Depressioncore Emojis & Text

..._...|..____________________, ,
....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = D
...../_==o;;;;;;;;_______.:/
.....), ---.(_(__) /
....// (..) ), ----"
...//___//
..//___//
.//___//
ιf уσυ ωσυℓ∂ נυмρ ιи fяσит σf α вυℓℓєт fσя уσυя gιяℓfяιєи∂, вσуfяιєи∂,
єχ-gιяℓfяιєи∂, єχ-вσуfяιєи∂, вєѕт fяιєи∂, fαмιℓу мємвєя, σя נυѕт α
ρєяѕσи уσυ ℓσνє, яє ρσѕт тнιѕ σитσ уσυя ραgє!

new lovecore livecore excore familycore riskycore boyfriendcore girlfriendcore lifecore

                          __                    __
          __       __     \_\  __          __   \_\  __   __       __
          \_\     /_/        \/_/         /_/      \/_/   \_\     /_/
        .-.  \.-./  .-.   .-./  .-.   .-./  .-.   .-\   .-.  \.-./  .-.
       //-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_// \\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\
     __(   '-'   '-'\  '-'   '-'  /'-'   '-'\__'-'   '-'__/'-'   '-'\__
    /_/))            \__       __/\          \_\       /_/           \_\
 ___\_//              \_\     /_/  \__                      ...
/_/  ((                             \_\                  {@} * {@}   
      )) __                                           {@} * {@} * {@}   
__   // /_/                                         : * {@} * {@} * .;       
\_\_((_/___         /\\,/\\,  ,-||-,    /\\,/\\,   {@} * {@} * {@} * {@}   
     ))  \_\       /| || ||  ('|||  )  /| || ||     * ; * ; {@} * ; * :
     \\            || || || (( |||--)) || || ||      ;\ \ \ \| /  / /; 
      )) _         ||=|= || (( |||--)) ||=|= ||         \\ \ Y/ / /
__   // /_/       ~|| || ||  ( / |  ) ~|| || ||          `_\ |/ _'
\_\_((_/           |, \\,\\,  -____-   |, \\,\\,         / \\Y// \ 
     \\           _-                  _-                ( ,-}={-, )
      )) _                                               \_//((\_/
__   // /_/                                               //))(\valkyrie 
\_\_((       When You Thought I Wasn't Looking.....        (/  ))
     \\                                                        (/
      )) __  When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first
__   // /_/  painting on the refrigerator, and I wanted to paint another one 
\_\_((_/___   
     ))  \_\ When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray 
     \\      cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.
      )) _ 
__   // /_/  When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite 
\_\_((_/     cake for me, and I knew that little  things are special things.
     \\
      )) __  When you thought I wasn't looking, I heard you say a prayer,
__   // /_/  and I believed there is a God I could always talk to.
\_\_((_/___    
     ))  \_\ When you thought I wasn't looking, I felt you kiss me  
     \\      goodnight, and I felt loved.
      )) _ 
__   // /_/  When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your  
\_\_((_/     eyes, and I learned that sometimes  things hurt, but it's all
     \\      right to cry.
      )) _ 
__   // /_/  When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared
\_\_((_/     and I wanted to be everything that I could  be.
     \\
      )) _   When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked . . . .    
__   // /_/  and I wanted to say thanks for all the things I saw when you 
\_\_((_/___  thought I wasn't looking.  
     ))  \_\                __                    __   ~Author Unknown
     \\     __       __     \_\  __          __   \_\  __   __       __
  __  ))    \_\     /_/        \/_/         /_/      \/_/   \_\     /_/
  \_\_((   .-.  \.-./  .-.   .-./  .-.   .-./  .-.   .-\   .-.  \.-./  .-.
       \\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_// \\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\_//-\\
        'dc\__'-'   '-'\  '-'   '-'  /'-'   '-'\__'-'   '-'__/'-'   '-'\__
            \_\         \__       __/\          \_\       /_/           \_\
                         \_\     /_/  \__
                                       \_\

new momcore poemcore grandmacore

────(♥)(♥)(♥)────(♥)(♥)(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ'ʀє αʟσηє,
──(♥)██████(♥)(♥)█████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɧα∂σѡ.
─(♥)████████(♥)████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ѡαηт тσ cʀƴ,
─(♥)██████████████████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɧσυʟ∂єʀ.
──(♥)████████████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ѡαηт α ɧυɢ,
────(♥)█████████████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ρɪʟʟσѡ.
──────(♥)█████████(♥) ɪƒ ƴσυ ηєє∂ тσ ɓє ɧαρρƴ,
────────(♥)█████(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ɓє ƴσυʀ ѕɱɪʟє.
─────────(♥)██(♥) ɓυт αηƴтɪɱє ƴσυ ηєє∂ α ƒʀɪєη∂,
───────────(♥) ɪ'ʟʟ ʝυѕт ɓє ɱє.

new humancore lovecore amputeecore poetrycore poemcore

July 27th, 2010, 3:46 AM

Today, my boyfriend came over and met my parents.

Then he left, and my Dad told me that my boyfriend loved me.

I smiled and asked, “How do you know?”

He said, “Because he looks at you the same way I look at your Mother.”

Love GMH

new lgmh boyfriendcore familycore lovecore LoveGivesMeHope

░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░
▄▄▄░░▄▄░▄▄░░▄▄░░░▄░░▄▄░░
░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░
░█░░▀█████▀░█░█░█▄█░█░█░
▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░

I 🤍 DAD

new dadcore familycore

December 13, 1977, Evansville Aces players, coaches, supporters 
and flight crew boarded a chartered DC-3 plane to travel to Murfreesboro for a game against Middle Tennessee.
Just one minute after taking off, at 7:22 p.m.
 crashed, tragically taking the lives of everyone onboard.
The only member of the Purple Aces who did not die in the crash was 18-year-old freshman David Furr; 
he was out for the season with some infirmary and thus was not on the plane that day. Lucky break? Well…
Davis Lee Furr, weeks after the plane crash, and his younger brother Byron were killed in a car accident near Newton, 
Illinois, leaving the entire 1977 Evansville team dead.

new coincidencecore airplanecrashcore carcrashcore

Go to TwoSentenceHorror
r/TwoSentenceHorror
11 hr. ago
daneylion



I was told that I was getting too old to 
be a pilot and that this would be my last 
flight before retirement.


I’m going to make sure for everyone on board that it’s their last flight 
too.

new reddit oldcore airplanecrashcore TwoSentenceHorror

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then
I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. 
The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them.
I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out.
I called them and told them to not get on the plane. 
The sand in the hour-glasses refilled.
—Human_Gravy

new timecore shockcore airplanecrashcore familycore glasscore terrorwave twistedcore

July 1974, Neville Ebbin was knocked off his small motorcycle and killed by a taxi in Hamilton, Bermuda.⠀
🚩⠀
One year later in July 1975, his brother, Erskine Lawrence Ebbin was knocked off the same motorcycle by the same taxi with the same driver, carrying the same passenger, on the same street that had killed his brother, Neville.⠀
⠀
Both brothers were 17 when they died. 

new hamilton taxicore bikercore 1970s brothercore familycore

“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding 
our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead 
girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer

new horrorposting girlfriendcore familycore

🔵
The first man to drown during the building of the Hoover
was J.G. Tierney, on December 20, 1922. The final man to
during the project was Patrick W. Tierney, his son, in 1935 -
- also on December 20.
🔵

new hoover tierney familycore

Anglo-Celt
Published in Cavan, county Cavan
Ann MORRISON for her child on 5th January last.

Frances MORROW, sworn and examined -- Knows Ann MORRISON who was in her service ; she came to witness' house on the 10th of January ; she asked her what became of the baby, prisoner said it was dead-born ; did not say who the father was ; she remained nine days in her house, and the Head-Constable arrested her the Friday after.
James SPROULL, Esq., M.D., sworn and examined. He deposed to having made a post mortem examination ; the child must have from strangulation ; there was a conjestion(sic) of the lungs ; there was a mark on the left side of the neck ; strangulation must have been caused by the thumb ; the child was a fine child.

The witness gave similar testimony to the Court.
http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Cavan/1857/MAR.html
March 5, 1857

new néonaticide neonaticidal neonaticides murdercore killercore anglocore

9 Tʜɪɴɢs ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ 
Author's 
𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap:
 01/01/22
┏━━━━•❅•°•❈ - •°•❅•━━━━┓
┗━━━━•❅•°•❈ - •°•❅•━━━━┛

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊

┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

┊         ┊       ┊   ✫

┊         ┊       ☪⋆             𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲, ⒉🄀⒉⒉

┊         ✫                         #hashtag     ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ༄

✯ ⋆      ┊ . ˚                   ☾   ❥                            

           ˚✩.     

‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊ʟᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ. ʟᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉˢˢᵒⁿ. ғᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢᵗ. ᴀⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒⁿ. ꒱

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          ⋆ ☄. ʙᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɴᵒᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ˢᵉˡᶠ. sᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ. sᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ. ɪᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵇⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿⁱᵠᵘᵉ. ·˚ * :telescope:

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⇢˚⋆ ✎ ˎˊ- " ᴅᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ, ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵒᵘˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉˡᶠ-ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱˢʰ. ʙʸ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ, ɪ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ. ʏᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˡᵒᵛᵉ, ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ... ᴛʰᵉ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱˢ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ. ɴᵘʳᵗᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵛᵉʳˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ʏᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɴᵒᵗ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. "

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           -`, ʏᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ɢʳᵉᵃᵗ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ. ᴀ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵗ ᵍʳᵒʷˢ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵘʳᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ. ɴᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷᵗʰ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈˢʰⁱᵖ. ɪᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵒᵘˡ ʸᵉᵗ, ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ. ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˡᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵇʸ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ. ᴛʰᵉ ˢᵒᵒⁿᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ. ꒱ ↷🖇🥛

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           ˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :email: :; ʟᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴡᵉ ᵃˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ. ᴛʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷʰᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷʰᵒ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢ ⁱᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ. sᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵘⁿⁱˢʰ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱˢʰ ᵇʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ. ᴡⁱˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗʰᵉᵐ? ɴᵒ. ɪᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵃⁱᵛᵉ. sᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ. ɴᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ.

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           ༘♡ ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵃˡᵘᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰⁱⁿ. ɴᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵗʳᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ɴᵉᵛᵉʳ. ᴛʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒʷⁿ. ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇʸ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ɪᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳʸ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳʸ ⁱˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ. ᴛʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ. ⋆｡˚❀

┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄

_ _ ᴏʷⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴡᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴊᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵒʳ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱˡˡᵉᵍⁱᵗⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉ, ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʳᵘᵉ. ʙᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʲᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʳᵈⁱᶜᵗ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. ᴛᵃᵏᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳˢʰⁱᵖ. ᴜⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃˡˡᵒʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ༉‧₊˚✧

┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄

         ꒰ :vhs: ꒱°⁺ ⁀➷ ʟⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ. ᴛᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ. ɴᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ. ɴᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ. ʟⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ. ᴏᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉ. ᴡᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ. ᴀˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶜᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒˢⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃʳᵛᵉˡ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ʰᵘᵐᵇˡᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ.

┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄

          ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪┊ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃˢʰᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ᴄʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ. ʟᵃᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ. ᴇᵃᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ. ʀᵉˢᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ. ᴡᵒʳᵏ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ. ʙᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵏᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉ. ˎˊ˗

๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ - ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑

new healingcore healcore youcore paincore emotionalcore

𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾
Author's 
𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap:
 09/23/21
𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜.

𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚎". 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝?

𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

new healcore healingcore paincore livecore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
6 hr. ago
AnonymousNeverKnown

↓

I chuckled to myself, changing the 'is" to "was" on celebrities' wikipedia pages when they weren't dead.

Imagine my horror when I saw breaking news about a plane crash, killing those very celebrities.

new horrorcore reddit anoncore terrorwave airplanecrashcore

r/shortscarystories
4 yr. ago
myymyy
 
Rollercoaster

"Mooooom, I don't like it. I want to get off!"

I was a bit surprised. He had always been so brave. I was way more afraid than him when we got on. I never liked to be so high up from the ground. "This will be so much fun!", he had said when we were parking the car. I had kinda hoped he would be strong for both of us.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry but we can't get off now, the ride has already started. But remember the small rollercoaster, in the park we went to when you were little? With the funny clown? This is just like that, only bigger. And remember how AWESOME it was?"

My son looked at me with watery eyes. 

He had been so excited about this. I tried to swallow my own nervousness and keep talking to calm him down. My voice was shaking a bit, but I managed to put on a smile.

"It's okay, it's okay. You might feel a bit funny in your stomach. It's because of the speed and the changes in the force that pushes you. It's normal! Listen, do you hear? Other people are scared too."

He looked at me with his kind, blue eyes and nodded. Just barely. I wanted to hug him, but my back was pressing to the seat so heavily I couldn't move enough. So was his. My eyes caught a glimpse of the sun over my sons head. The sky was so bright. I tried to ignore the metallic clanging sound and people screaming somewhere that seemed to be so far away. Oh, how I missed the ground.

Then I felt a big drop on my stomach. We were going faster and faster. My son started sobbing and I tightened my grib on his hand. I thought that he would become such a handsome man someday. He would end up having a good life, and marry a nice girl - or a guy, who knows? I didn't care as long as he was happy. That's all I wanted. For him to be happy and not scared.

"Hey, you know what? Close your eyes. This will be over soon. I'm here. I'm not letting go."

Someone behind us started to scream. I felt my blood run cold. I tried to keep my focus on the one thing that mattered: my sons hand and my calm voice that kept telling him that it was all going to be okay.

Oh, he would become such a handsome man someday. But at this moment he was just a 6 year old boy on his first flight, going to surprise his grandparents all the way across the country.

And the last thing I saw before I closed my own eyes, was the second engine on fire...

new shockcore scarycore terrorwave horrorposting reddit terrorcore horrorwave stomachcore voicecore airplanecrashcore rollercoaster

I destroy the monsters you don’t ever want to know about.
by KMApok
'Why is there bad in the world?'
It’s a common question, but it is misplaced.
Light and dark.
Without one, the other cannot exist.
I roam the Earth, disposing of the bad wherever I find it.
I destroy the ones you don’t even want to know about. 
I eliminate them completely so you can sleep at night. 
You people have no idea how many of you live because of the suffocating work I do.
'What about criminals, Mussolini, Adolph...'
Well, those are the 'minor' ones I had to let live. 
For balance. 
The ones I suffocatingly destroy are too horrible and vile to even speak of...
You see, I would wager you never have heard of me, specifically in any religious texts.
Still I bet you have known of me. Some, for example, have their own name for me: SID's 
short for what you might call Sudden Infant Death Syndrome..

new horrorposting horrorpunk angelcore monsterkin angelkin monstercore horrorcore fictionkin terrorwave terrorcore sidcore miscarriagecore cot death crib death néonaticide

‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage
She's gone, all because of him.
Dead.
He killed my wife.
She'd still be here, if it's not for him.
If only he could speak with reason; I could’ve let him live long enough to explain.
But that was obviously not going to happen. 
After all, he was born just a few minutes ago...

new crycore cryingcore killercore murdercore horrorposting horrorwave horrorpunk horrorcore twistedcore fetuscore birthcore childbirthcore neonaticidal néonaticide neonaticide

Love SMS

I ωιℓℓ ∂ιє
вυт му ℓσνє ηєνєя …
Iт ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ
тσωαя∂ѕ тσ уσυ …
Oηє яєQυєѕт
ηєνєя ¢яу ƒσя мє ωнєη ι.
ωιℓℓ ∂ιє …
Oηє ωιѕн ∂ση’т ƒσяGєт мє
αƒтєя му ∂єαтн …
Oηє ƒα¢т ι ¢αη’т ѕтσρ мιѕѕιηG уσυ
υηтιℓ м αℓινє !!!

July 18, 2014 by Love Doctor

new lovecore poemcore poetcore poetrycore remembercore

SUNDAY, JULY 12, 2009
YAADEIN...
Holle se chupke se aati hain yaadein..
Ateet me hume kheench le jaati hain yaadein..
Koshish to ke the bhoolne ke aapko..
Par har koshish ko nakaam kar jaate hain yaadein..

Tez hawa ka jhonka bankar aati hain yaadein..
Is shaant zindagi me hulchul le aati hain yaadein..
Fir dheere se humara haath thaam kar..
Khwabon ke duniya me le jaati hain yaadein..

Kya maksad hai inka, kyu aati hain yaadein..
Beete hue baatein, dohraate hain yaadein..
Ab peeche reh gaya hai sab..
Aur chal pade hain hum..
Ab to yaadein he yaadein hain..yaadein he yaadein..
Bas yaad aati hain baatein.....yaad aati hain yaadein......
POSTED BY SAUMYA SHRIVASTAVA AT 3:02 AM

new YAADEIN poemcore poetcore poetrycore storycore

r/TwoSentenceHorror
5 yr. ago
spenceyfresh



As death came for him, his life 
flashed before his eyes.


He remembered everything 

his birth, 
his trip home 
and the blank look in his mothers eyes 
as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.

new reddit horrorwave waterpunk lifecore birthcore neonaticide neonaticides neonaticidal

"
I ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴅ sᴀᴡ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇ ɢʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ; Mʏ ғᴏʟᴋs ᴡᴇʀᴇ sɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛʟʏ, sᴛᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ɪᴛ.


“Hᴇ’s ʜᴇʀᴇ, I ᴄᴀɴ ғᴇᴇʟ ɪᴛ.” Tʜᴇ ʟᴀᴅʏ ᴍᴜᴍʙʟᴇᴅ, ᴀs I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴀɴᴅs.

"
 ʙʏ 

Eʟɪsᴇʜғᴀʟʟ2

new candlecore familycore horrorwave

vicenarian (20–29)
tricenarian (30–39)
quadragenarian (40–49)
semicentenarian (50)
quinquagenarian (50–59) 
sexagenarian (60–69)
septuagenarian (70–79)
octogenarian (80–89)
nonagenarian (90–99)
ultracentenarian (100+) centenary
semisupercentenarian (105–109)
supercentenarian (110+) supracentenarian 
centevicenarian  ages 120-129

↓ below are unreached ages of human people ↓

sesquicentenarian (150–159)
bicentenarian (200–299)
multicentenarian (200+)
tricentenarian (300–399)
quadricentenarian (400–499)
quincentenarian (500–599)

new oldcore agecore grandparentcore familycore mathcore centenarianism

My family        
Story by Pansyk            

I died eight years ago.

It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life.

It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful.

If anything, I’m the opposite..

↓Keep reading ↓

31ST OCT 2020 

u/Pansyk

I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and

lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe.

It's not his fault.

I am not vengeful.

I’m the opposite.

You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her.

I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home.

Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her.

As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent,  so they weren’t afraid or angry.

They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family.

Someone is trying to force the door.

Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family.

The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that.

The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin.

Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.

new familycore twistedcore carcrashcore ghostkin revengecore obsessivecore excore loricore jackcore lilycore lostcore my family

https://www.wordexample.com/list/words-suffix-cide
Foeticide, of a fetus
Neonaticide, of a child during the first 24 hours of life
Infanticide, an infant from month old to 12 months
Avunculicide, one's uncle
Fratricide, one's brother
Mariticide, one's husband or significant other
Matricide, one's mother
Nepoticide, one's nephew
Parricide, of one's close relative
Patricide, of one's father
Sororicide, of one's sister
Uxoricide, of one's wife or girlfriend
Nepticide, of one's niece
Amiticide, of one's aunt
Geronticide – the abandonment of the elderly to Senicide

new amicide murdercore familycore https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_types_of_killing

Repost this If you miss
someone right now.

July 27, 2015

new memorycore friendcore familycore tumblrcore instagram

 	one's mother	matricide
 	one's parent(s)	parenticide
 	one's brother	fratricide
 	one's sister	sororicide
 	one's husband	mariticide, viricide
 	one's wife	uxoricide
 	one's son or daughter	filicide, prolicide
 	 a close relative	parricide
         father        Patricide
woman	femicide, gynecide, gynaecide
 	an infant	infanticide
 	a fetus	aborticide, feticide, foeticide
 	 old men	senicide
 	a king	regicide
 	a lord or master	hericide
 	a philosopher	philosophicide
 	a prophet or poet	vaticide
 	a tsar	czaricide
 	a bishop	episcopicide
 	 an apprentice	prenticecide
 	a Brahmin	Brahminicide, Brahmanicide
 	a Spartacus member	Sparticide
 	a modernist	modernicide
 	a guest or host	hospiticide
 	 a favorite	nepoticide
 	a friend	ambicide
 	 an enemy	hosticide
 	a heretic	hereticide, heretocide
 	 a tyrant	tyrannicide
 of bears	ursicide
 	of birds	avicide, birdicide
 	 of boars	apricide
 	of bulls	tauricide
 	of cats	felicide
 	chickens or turkeys	gallinicide
 	of cows	vaccicide
 	of deer	cervicide
 	of dogs	canicide
	of fish	piscicide
 	of fowls	gallicide
 	 of fox	vulpicide
 	of goats	hiricide
 	of kangaroos	macropocide
 	of leeches	hirudicide
 	of mice	muricide
 	 of moles	talpicide
 	of oxen	bovicide
 	of partridges	perdricide
 	of reptiles	herpecide, herpicide
 	of snakes	serpenticide
 	of snails/molluscs	molluscacide
 	of vermin	verminicide
 	of whales	ceticide
 	of wolves	lupidide
 of aphids	aphidicide, aphicide
 	of bedbugs	cimicide
 	of bees	apicide
 	 of fleas	pulicide, pulicicide
 	 of flies	muscacide, muscicide
 	 of gnats or mosquitos	culicicide, culicide
 	of lice	lousicide, pediculicide
 	of mites	acaricide, miticide
 	 of mosquitos	anophelicide, mosquitocide
 	 of spiders or scorpions	arachnidcide
 	of wasps	vespacide
Amebae	amebacide, amebicide, amoebicide
 	Animal parasites	epizocide
 	Anthrax	anthracocide
 	Bacilli	bacillicide
 	Bacteria	bactericide, bacteriacide, bacteriocide
 	Blood corpuscles	globulicide
 	Blood flukes	schistosomacide, schistosomicide
 	Cancerous cells	tumorcide
 	Cells	cytocide
 	Diarrhea-causing parasites	trichomonacide
 	Fever (reducing fever)	febricide
 	Germs	germicide
 	Gonorrhea	gonococcide, gonoccocide
 	Intestinal worms	helminthicide, vermicide
 	Leukocytes	leukocide, leucocide
 	Malarial parasites	gametocide, plasmodicide, schizonticide
 	Microbes	microbicide
 	Nematode worms	nematocide, nematicide, nemacide
 	Oxyuris worms	oxyuricide
 	Parasites	parasiticide
 	Parasitic bacteria	treponemicide
 	Protozoans	protozoacide
 	Roundworms	ascaricide, filaricide, lumbricide
 	Scabies	scabicide, scabieticide
 	Sleeping sickness infection	trypanocide, trypanosomacide
 	Sperm	spermicide, spermatocide, spermatozoicide
 	Spirilla bacteria	spirillicide
 	Spirochetes bacteria	spirocheticide, spirochaeticide
 	Spores	fungicide, sporicide
 	Staph	staphylocide, staphylococcide, staphylococcicide
 	Streptococci bacteria	streptococcicide
 	Tapeworms	taenicide, taeniacide, teniacide, tenicide
 	Toxins	toxicide, toxinicide
 	Tuberculosis bacilli	tuberculocide
 	Viruses	viruscide, virucide
flowers	floricide
 	 of plants	herbicide, phytocide
of a giant	gianticide
 	of a monster	monstricide
 	 putrid things	putricide
 	Destruction of books	tomecide
 	Destroying words	logocide, verbicide
 	Destruction of a culture	ethnocide
 	Destruction of ancient buildings/monuments	petracide
 	Destruction of laws	legicide
 	Destruction of liberty	liberticide
 	Destruction of life	biocide
 	Ruining a suitor's chances	suitorcide
 	Ruining someone's reputation	famicide
 	the mind (brainwashing)	menticide
 	a faith	fideicide
 	facts (distorting the truth)	facticide
 	 someone with a motor vehicle	autocide
 	Destruction of everything	onmicide
 	Destruction of the entire world	mundicide
 	Destruction of the natural world	ecocide
 	 of all people	populicide

new népoticide murdercore side

+ ‌ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ?
- ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴs!

new paincore funnycore ex

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝔃𝓮: 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 & 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 
𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮. ଓ

new girlcore familycore romancecore femalekin romanticise

r/TwoSentenceHorror
2 hr. ago
villianrules
 
After taking the ancestry test I discovered that I was related to a serial killer.

It makes me so proud of continuing the legacy.

new horrorposting horrorposters familycore

Jan 1, 2011 9:47 PM

Mom 

<Your great aunt just passed away. LOL

Why is that funny?>

<It's not funny! Wht do you mean? 

Mom lol means laughing out loud!>

<Oh goodness!! I sent that to everyone I thought it meant lots of love.

new familycore smscore smartphowned

i turned to the guy who 
k1lled my wife
✨
He cried so 
desperately, scared for what was to come. 
If only he had talked to me and tried to 
reason, maybe I could have spared him. 
But that was impossible. After all, he was 
born just a few moments ago...

new familycore twistedcore horrorposting ✨ horrorbuff

Do need the pap smear test if a virg!n and/or not s*xual active?

You may not necessarily require, unless...

You want to plan on having offspring
To check for as*ault (such as ab*se)
A family relation has had female reproductive cancer
if contemplating feticidal abort1on
If getting some reproductive apparatus


if any of the above applies to you, the circumstances might be different
regarding whether or not you as a virg!n should get one if you're not active

The pap smear test only checks for cancers caused by the hpv transmitted virus
which is transmitted vía such contact

If you're not virg!n you may have hpv (said cancer causing virus, which the pap 
checks you for) dormant in your system

new papcore testcore viruskin femalekin abusecore abortioncore familycore healthcore pap

r/shortscarystories
4 yr. ago
RVKony
Join

The Blind Child

"Stãbbing."

Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went.

The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered.

Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops.

My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying.

One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?"

I did.

Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school.

The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water.

Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me:

"He was…my partner…my soulmate."

While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room.

"Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?"

She hesitated.

"Honey, you know you can talk to me."

She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy."

My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant.

Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said.

My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child—

I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter.

My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked.

He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape."

That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?"

The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered:

"Poisoning."

new reddit blindcore familycore horrorbuff the blind child

http://www.celticcousins.net/scott/stmaryscem.htm

new familycore cemeterycore st. mary's cemetery burials

In the original story of "Peter Pan", Peter murders the 
Lost Boys when they seem to grow too old to still 
live in Neverland, because being an adult in this place 
is against the rules. In the middle of a battle 
against pirates, he would sometimes even
switch sides and start killing Lost Boys for fun.

new murdercore disneycore peter pan

𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓪 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 ~ 𝓾𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷

new momcore blesscore blessedkin blessedcore familycore babywave unknown

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS v

(Autistic Author)



Karen watches the exchange, her heart 
heavy with the weight of their 
conversation. "Plankton," she says 
gently. "What can Chip do to help you?"


"Just be
patient," he says. "And maybe don't 
touch me to much."

Chip's eyes widen at the admission, and 
he nods solemnly. "Okay," he says. "But 
what if you don't look okay?"

Plankton's antennae twitch in what 
Karen recognizes as a sign of 
discomfort, but he answers. "Inform 
Karen, I mean uh ‘Mommy’, but just wait 
for me to come back I guess," he says. 
"Don't call panicked attention to it."

Chip nods, his eyes searching 
Plankton's face. "But what if you fall 
down or something?"

Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Well, 
if that happens," he says, his voice gruff 
but gentle, "you can offer to help me up, 
yet also same thing. But then just 
remember to give me some space, 
okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's face. "I will, Dad," he says, 
voice earnest.

Karen feels a knot in her throat, 
watching the two of them. Plankton's 
vulnerability is a rare sight, but she 
knows it's a step in the right direction. 
She decides to push the conversation a 
bit further.

"Chip," she says softly. "Do you have 
any more questions?"

Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes 
searching. "Why’d you get so mad when 
asking you questions?"

Plankton's antennae twitch again, a hint 
of frustration in his eye. "It's just... it's 
hard to explain," he says, his voice tight.
"I know you're trying to help, but 
sometimes it feels like you're poking at a 
sore spot."
Chip's expression falls, his lower lip 
trembling. "But I didn't mean to hurt you, 
Dad," he says, his voice a whisper.
Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping 
to his side. "I know you didn't," he says, 
his voice softer. "It's just that sometimes, 
when people ask questions about it, it 
feels like they're not accepting me the 
way I am."

Karen's heart breaks a little at her 
husband's words, but she knows this is 
a breakthrough. "Chip," she says, her 
voice gentle. "What Daddy's trying to 
say is that sometimes, it's hard for him 
to talk about."

Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton. 
"But you're still my dad," he says, his 
voice firm. "I'll always love you, no 
matter what."

Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods 
and for a 
moment, Karen sees a flicker of emotion 
in his eye. The room is silent, the air 
thick with unspoken words. Karen's 
heart is racing, knowing this is a pivotal 
moment. Plankton has always struggled 
with expressing his emotions, especially 
with their son. The words "I love you"
are as foreign to him as the surface 
world.

"I know you do, buddy," Plankton says, 
his voice gruff. He clears his throat, 
looking down at the rock on the coffee 
table. "But for me, it's not always easy to 
say those words." He looks up at Chip, 
his eye filled with something Karen can't 
quite place—pain, perhaps, or regret. 
"But just because I don't say it, doesn't 
mean I don't feel it, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his 
dad's face. "But why can't you say it?" 
he asks, his voice small.

Plankton's antennae droop, and he 
looks away, his eye avoiding contact 
with both Karen and Chip.

"I just want to make sure you know that I 
love you," Chip says, his voice a mix of 
hope and desperation. "Isn't that what 
families do?"

The room seems to shrink around them, 
the air charged with anticipation. 
Plankton's antennae shoot straight up, 
and his eye narrows into a glare. Karen 
can almost see the cogs turning in his 
mind, the struggle to find the right 
words.

"Why do you keep asking?" Plankton 
snaps, his voice sharp as a knife.

Chip flinches, but Karen squeezes his 
hand, giving him the courage to keep 
asking. "I just want to understand," Chip 
whispers.

Plankton's eye flashes with irritation. 
"Why does it matter so much?" he 
snaps, his antennae quivering. "Why do 
you have to know everything?"

Chip shrinks back, his voice trembling. 
"Because I don't want you to be sad," he 
says, his eyes brimming with tears.

Plankton processes Chip's words. His 
antennae quiver, his eye flitting between 
his son and Karen, who's watching with 
a silent plea for patience.

"Why do you keep asking?" Plankton 
repeats, his voice rising slightly. "What's 
so important about me saying it?"

Karen's eyes are filled with a silent 
apology as she sees the confusion and 
hurt on Chip's face. She knows 
Plankton's words are a defense 
mechanism, a way to keep his own fears
at bay. But she also knows how much 
their son needs to hear those words.

"Plankton," she says gently, her voice a
soft reminder of the love in the room. 
"Chip just wants to understand."

Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping in 
defeat. "I know," he murmurs. "I just... I 
don't know how to explain it so he gets 
it."

Karen nods, her heart aching for both 
her son and her husband. "Chip," she 
says, her voice soft. "Daddy's trying, okay?"

But Chip's eyes are on Plankton, 
searching for answers that Plankton 
seems unwilling to give. Plankton's 
antennae are a blur of movement, his 
frustration palpable in the air. "I don't 
know how to explain it so you'll get it!" 
he snaps, his voice echoing off the 
walls.

Chip's eyes widen, and he withdraws 
further into himself, clutching the rock 
tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice 
shaking.

Karen's grip on Plankton's hand 
tightens, a silent plea for calm. 
"Plankton," she says gently, "you don't 
have to explain everything right now. We 
just want to help."

But Plankton's antennae are a blur of 
agitation, his eye darting around the 
room as if searching for an escape. "I 
don't know what you want from me," he 
says, his voice tight. "I'm trying to be 
honest, but it feels like no matter what I 
say, it's not enough."

Karen can see the frustration in her 
husband's movements, his antennae 
waving erratically. "You don't have to 
have all the answers right now," she 
soothes, her voice a gentle reminder of 
the love in the room.

Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae 
stiff with tension. "But Chip expects me 
to," he murmurs, his voice filled with a 
hint of accusation. "You want me to just 
lay it all out, like it's simple."

Karen can feel the frustration rolling off 
of him, and she knows that pushing him 
further won't help. "I know it's hard," she 
says, her voice soothing. "But we can 
take it slow, okay?"

Plankton's antennae quiver, and he 
nods, his eye still narrowed in irritation. 
"Fine," he grumbles. "But don't expect 
me to be good at it."

The tension in the room is thick, but 
Karen refuses to let it linger. She takes a 
deep breath, her eyes on Chip. "Why 
don't we start by talking about what 
happened today?" she suggests, her 
voice calm and even.

Plankton's antennae twitch, and he 
nods, his eye flicking to Chip before 
looking away again. "Ok," he says, his 
voice tight.

"Do you remember what happened at 
the park today?" Karen asks, keeping 
her voice gentle and steady.

Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods 
stiffly. "Yes," he says, his voice tight. "I 
had one of my... moments."

Chip looks at him, his eyes wide with 
concern. "Is it okay with Dad…"

"I'm right here, buddy," Plankton 
interrupts, his antennae still, his eye 
fixed on the floor. "And I'm okay."

But Chip isn't convinced. "But you 
weren't okay at the park," he says, his 
voice quivering. "You were scared I 
think.."

Plankton's antennae shoot up in 
frustration. "I was not scared!" he snaps, 
his voice echoing through the room. "It's 
just... it's hard to explain!"

Karen's heart squeezes, watching her 
husband's distress, but she knows they 
need to keep the conversation going. 
"Chip," she says gently, "why don't you 
tell us what you felt when you saw 
Daddy's moment?"

Chip looks at Karen, his eyes glistening. 
"I was scared," he admits, his voice 
shaky. "I didn't know what to do, and 
everyone was looking."

Plankton's antennae droop, his eye 
flicking to the floor. He's visibly upset, 
and Karen can see the anger bubbling 
beneath the surface.

"I just want to know," Chip says, his 
voice trembling, "I wanna know why 
you…"

But before he can finish, Plankton's 
antennae shoot up in anger, his eye 
flashing with a fury. "Why do you keep 
poking at me like that?" he yells, his 
voice echoing through the room. "Can't 
you just leave me alone?"

Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he jumps 
back, his small body trembling. Karen's 
heart sinks as she sees the fear in her 
son's eyes, and she knows that 
Plankton's outburst isn't helping.

"Plankton," she says firmly, her voice 
cutting through the tension.

new chip off the old talks familycore

 | © Generally Gothic


𝕺𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝕸𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖞

No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
       Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d
       By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
               Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
       Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
               Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;
       For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
               And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
       Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
       And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
       Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
               Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
       Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
               And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

She dwells with Beauty—Beauty that must die;
       And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
       Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
       Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
               Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
       Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;
His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
               And be among her cloudy trophies hung.


– John Keats, 1820

new melancholy poetcore poetrycore poemcore gothiccore johncore john keats

𝙎𝙄𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎

Today.

You smiled at me.

Your voice rang through the phone, sentimental dreams shared. A crusader against my nightmares.

I watched you blow out your birthday candles, silent whispers of divine wishes floating out with the call.

Your wish was to no longer exist, amongst the cries of the sky.

So, you held in your final goodbyes, keeping those words withheld, as the hit of grim made your world go dim.

Today,

We buried you.

new poemcore poetcore poetrycore twistedcore diarycore silent whispers

To sleep comfortably with period cramps, the best position is typically the "fetal position" - lying on your side with your knees pulled up towards your chest, as this reduces pressure on your abdomen and can alleviate cramping; you can also try placing a pillow between your knees for extra support. 
Key points about sleeping with period cramps:
Fetal position:
This is considered the most effective position for easing cramps as it minimizes tension on your abdominal muscles. 
Side sleeping:
Sleeping on your side, either in the fetal position or with your top leg slightly bent towards your stomach (recovery position), can also help. 
Pillow support:
Using a pillow between your knees can provide additional comfort and support. 
Alternating sides:
Try to switch sides throughout the night to avoid muscle stiffness.

new periodcore crampcore crampscore paincore girlism

Apr 25, 2013, 1:45 AM 
Lol honestly if you were still here I would be lookin
towards dating you. You're so sweet and a really good friend and super beautiful. But you're
so fat
FAR!! I meant far
lol

new poemcore poetcore poetrycore smartphowned

𝑰𝒏 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓, 
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒔' 𝒃𝒆𝒅 
𝑶𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒓; 
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅, 
𝑩𝒚 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓, 
𝑺𝒊𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆, 𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅, 
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓, 
𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆; 
𝑨 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒍 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅, 
𝑰𝒏 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒅 
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓.

- 𝑹𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

new robert louis stevenson poemcore poetrycore robert louis balfour stevenson

6 NOV 2013 ANESTHESIA
If you’re having general anesthesia, an anesthesiologist will give you medications that make you lose consciousness. After the surgery is complete, you won’t be wide awake right away.
General anesthesia brings on a sleep-like state with the use of a combination of medicines. The medicines, known as anesthetics, are given before and during surgery or other medical 
procedures. General anesthesia usually uses a combination of intravenous medicines and inhaled gasses. You'll feel as though you're asleep. But general anesthesia does more than put 
you to sleep. You don't feel pain when you're under general anesthesia. This is because your brain doesn't respond to pain signals or reflexes. While you're under anesthesia, the anesthesia 
team monitors you, watches your body's vital functions, manages your breathing and treats pain related to the procedure.
Your surgery might not require general anesthesia, but you might need sedation to be comfortable during the procedure. The effects of sedation, also called twilight sedation and monitored 
anesthesia care, can include being sleepy but awake and able to talk, or being asleep and unaware of your surroundings. The recovery from sedation is similar to that of general anesthesia 
but patients usually wake up quicker and their recovery time is shorter. As with general anesthesia, you won’t be able to drive and should probably have someone stay with you for at least 
the first several hours after you return home.
You'll slowly wake either in the operating room or the recovery room. You'll probably feel groggy and a little confused when you first awaken.
You may continue to be sleepy, and your judgment and reflexes may take time to return to normal. 

new sleepcore paincore anaesthesia

January 2, 2013
Messages
I think we should see other
people
...
Roses are red
Violets are blue U really thought I would cry over
u?
I said I loved you You thought that was true well guess what player
You just got played to
smartphOWNED.com

new excore poemcore poetcore poetrycore smscore smartphowned

r/TwoSentenceHorror
34 min. ago
MistStarz


“Sweetie, dolls don’t move on ıt's own,” 
mother comforted her terrıfıed 
daughter.

“So just sit sti̕ll while I stitch your prettɥ lıttle møuth up.”

new dollkin dollcore familycore sitcore twistedcore terriblecore horrorbuff

 disabilityreminders
You’re allowed to use accommodations even if you could technically 
get by without them.
Use the accommodations if you can. You don’t need to be at the
highest level of suffering to be valid in using them. If they improve
your quality of life or paın level or anything at all like that, then they’re
worth using and you deserve to use them.
Jan 18th, 2024

new tumblrcore paincore lifecore tumblr

July 1996

. Twins can be conjoined at the:

Abdomen (omphalopagus).
Chest (thoracopagus).
Top of head down to the belly button, facing each other (cephalopagus).
Head only (craniopagus).
Pelvis, facing each other (ischiopagus).
Pelvis, side-to-side (parapagus).
Rump-to-rump (pygopagus).
Vertebral column (rachipagus).

Generally, parapagus are conjoined at the upper chest. Parapagus, united laterally, always share a conjoined pelvis with one or two sacrums and one symphysis pubis. Dithoracic parapagus is when the two chests are separated, and the fusion is confined to the pelvis and abdomen. Dicephalic parapagus is if there is the union of the entire trunk but not the heads. The heart, liver, and diaphragm are fused, but there is a duplication of the respiratory tract and upper digestive tract; the viscera organs are fused. There are two arms, two legs, and two complete vertebral column and spinal cord. The number of limbs varies from 4 to 7, rarely with four legs. Generally, each lung is present in a separate lung cavity. The fusion of lungs is very rare. The alignment of the conjoined pelvis is diagnostic-one complete pelvic ring, with a single anterior pubic symphysis, and with two laterally fused sacral bones, and predominantly only one rectum. Ischiopagi are united ventrally extending from the umbilicus down to a sizeable conjoined pelvis with two symphyses pubis and two sacrum. Craniopagus can be united at any portion of the skull except at the face and the foramen magnum. Pygopagus varieties are joined dorsally; sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions, sometimes even involving the spinal cord. Rachipagus twins are united dorsally above the sacrum. The union may also include the occiput. The cephalopagus varients are fused from the umbilicus to the top of the head. The pelvis and lower abdomen are usually not fused. Thoracopagus are united face-to-face from the upper thorax down till the umbilicus. Omphalopagus are primarily United at the umbilical region aligned face to face. The pelvis is not united. The pure parapagus is two heads, two hands, two legs, two hearts and two pairs of lungs.

Conjoined twins are classified on the basis of the union's site, with the suffix pagus meaning fixed or fastened. The twins can have four (tetrapus), three (tripus), or two (bipus) legs.

Cephalopagus: The twins often have a fused thorax in addition to a fused head. The single fused head may have two faces (janiceps) 

Cephalothoracopagus twinning is characterized by the anterior union of the upper half of the body, with two faces angulated variably on a conjoined head. The anomaly is occasionally known as janiceps, named after the two-faced Roman god Janus. The prognosis is extremely poor because surgical separation is not an option, in that only a single brain and a single heart are present and the gastrointestinal (GI) tracts are fused.

Craniopagus: The conjoined twins share the skull, meninges, and venous sinuses 

Ischiopagus: The twins may lie face to face or end to end

Pygopagus: The twins are joined dorsally, sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions 

Rachipagus: The twins generally have vertebral anomalies and neural tube defects.

Thoracopagus: The twins lie face to face and share the sternum, diaphragm, upper abdomen wall, and liver and have an exomphalos 

new familycore healthcore surgerycore conjoint

22 years ago, a 16 year old girl was pregnant with a baby.

Understanding the circumstances, her parents told her to abort or be disowned.

Her best friend - her 18 year old neighbour - although he was not the father, stepped into the father figures shoes. They got married 2 years later.

Mom and Dad, your love for me, and for each other, GMH.

 Dec 1st, 2014

new lgmh neighborcore familycore abortioncore gmh

୨ৎ⋆.˚‪‪❤︎‬‎⭒ fun things you can manifest
⭒ 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬!

⭒ 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐞.𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬, 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡!

⭒ 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝟐𝐤!

⭒ 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲!

⭒ 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬!

⭒ 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬!

⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!

⭒ 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞!

⭒ 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 & 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞!

⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐩𝐩!

⭒ 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩!

⭒ 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭!

new schoolcore paincore studycore friendcore tumblr

 ｡・ ﾟ・｡     ｡ +. ﾟ｡・.     ｡.  * ﾟ + ｡・ﾟ・｡・ﾟ・.   ｡* ｡ ・ﾟ・

                                             ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ a small reminder for you,

try not to be so hard on yourself, i know you are trying and giving your best! i know it might sound crazy to you right now but better days WILL come and you will look back at this exact moment and remember how impossible it all seemed. ♡ but look, you DID it! you got through one of your hardest days.
so, don’t give up. healing takes time. it might all seem impossible but you will get there. it doesn’t have to look a certain way, in fact, healing looks different for everyone. go at your own pace and don’t try to rush anything! it’s not a race! ♡ don’t stress yourself out and try to worry less. you are stronger than you think and i KNOW you can do this and get through whatever you are going through! 🌸
                                                                       you GOT THIS! ˙ᵕ˙

 ｡・ ﾟ・｡     ｡ +. ﾟ｡・.     ｡.  * ﾟ + ｡・ﾟ・｡・ﾟ・.   ｡* ｡ ・ﾟ・

new smilecore paincore tumblr

Unknown Female Infant

Found Baby in a Creek. Đeađ Bødy Discovered in Race at Rose Valley. New Born Child Fished Out of the Water in the Rear of Fausts' Tannery on Monday--No Clue to Parties Whom Neglected the Baby--Coroner investigating.

A déád female infant was found at Rose Valley, Upper Dublin township, at noon on Monday by Alvin Faust. It's discovery caused considerable excitement in the ancient village. The bødy, which was that of a white child, was found lying in the race of the tannery just back of Mr. Faust's new residence and near the small bridge which spans the creek. The bødy was that of a child apparently but a few hours old.

From appearances the child could not have been placed there before late Sunday evening as Mr. Faust uses the bridge frequently during the day in passing from his house to the barn of his farm, which lies just over the creek to the south.

The discovery was immediately phoned to the Coroner's office at Norristown and instructions were returned to place the corps in the hands of Undertaker Davis, of Ambler which was done immediately.

Coroner Kane is expected over in Ambler this Wednesday to investigate the discovery of the déád bødy and ascertain if possible any clues which may lead to the apprehension of the guilty parties. Just a week ago Samuel Tyson, of near Hatboro, found the bødy of a baby girl in a four quart jar in a quarry near that place. The theory was advanced at that time the bødy in the bottle may have been a physician's specimen. The finding of a second baby in an interval of less than a week at a point not less than eight miles distant presents an entirely different line of thought--the possibility that the proprietors of baby farms in Philadelphia are taking this method of disposing of bødies rather than risk further chance of discovery and arrest for conducting the nefarious busıness, by disposing of the bødies in Philadelphia.

[Source: Ambler Gazette, April 7, 1904, p. 1. Submitted by Nancy.]

new babywave farmgoth bodyhorrorcore whitecore femalekin mysterycore neonaticide

In 1989 a woman gave birth to a girl who had down syndrome, and a hole in her heart and stomach. She died 3 years later.

Her next child was miscarried. She got pregnant again and was told to have an abortion that refused even though she knew the risks were high for her and the baby.

Here I am 14 years later, perfectly healthy.

Mom, your LGMH

 Dec 1st, 2014

new lgmh miscarriagecore abortioncore familycore gmh

Terms for the Mvrder of Loved Ones

Amicicide:  of one’s friend  (amicus - friend)  

Avunculicide:  of one’s uncle  (avunculus - maternal uncle)  

Familicide:  of one’s family (spouse and children)  (familia - family)  

Filicide: of one’s daughter or son  (filia - daughter; filius - son)  

Fratricide: of one’s brother (or sibling) (frater - brother; fratrem - sibling)  

Mariticide:  of one’s husband (or spouse) (maritus - husband, spouse)  

Matricide:  of one’s mother  (mater - mother)  

Neonaticide:  of one’s newborn child (neo - new; natus - born)

Patricide: of one’s father (pater - father)

Prolicide: of one’s offspring (proles - offspring)

Senicide: of one’s elder (senes - elderly; senex - old man)

Sororicide:  of one’s sister (soror - sister)

Uxoricide:  of one’s wife (uxor - wife, spouse)

Amiticide:  of one’s aunt (amita - paternal aunt)

Aniclicide:  of one’s female elder (anicla - old woman)

Avicide:  of one’s grandparent (avia - grandmother; avus - grandfather)

Conjicide:  of one’s spouse (conjux, coniux - spouse, husband, wife)

Nepticide:  of one’s niece (nepti - niece)

new murdercore familycore friendcore grandparentcore friendscore

WIFE 

"Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner
table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook,
a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you
mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...'
I shrug, and start to eat dinner.
"Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile.
She races upstairs, and I continue eating.
escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really
take that long to put away clothes?
So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife
and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.*
"What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife
into her chest.

new familycore twistedcore wife

Date: 15/12/22

Autistic qualities such as differences in how we understand 
what our body is feeling (interoception), our experience of 
pain (hypo/ hyper sensitivity) and difficulties in noticing 
and identifying how we feel (alexithymia)

Nurse practitioners and doctors may have a limited understanding of the unique and significant ways in which autism and its associated issues impact a patient’s experience of a given medical procedure. This means that the particular supports that might help to alleviate discomfort could be lacking.

We might encounter resistance to our own attempts to self-
regulate and take care of our sensory and emotional needs 
during the appointment. We may even experience medical gas 
lighting or invalidation when attempting to express our 
experience or request much needed accommodations (
we know that this happens at higher rates amongst female 
presenting people, people of colour and those with additional 
learning disabilities in our community). For those of us with a 
history of these types of experiences, just being in a medical 
environment could feel threatening and unsafe.


* Autistic person with a particular set of qualities and traits, this is not a prediction of what others might encounter or an attempt to generalise my own experience to the broader community.

Date: 15/12/22

new * papcore nursecore doctorcore surgerycore paincore 2022

 24 April 2027

If a woman's baby dies before labour starts, she will usually be offered medicine to help induce labour.
If your baby has died, you may be able to wait for labour to start naturally or your labour may be induced. If your health is at risk, the baby may need to be delivered as soon as possible.
Some parents want to have the induction as soon as possible. Others prefer to wait for a day or two so that they have time to take in what has happened and to see if labour starts by itself.
Waiting for natural labour increases the chance of the baby deteriorating in the womb. This can affect how the baby looks when she or he is born and can make it more difficult to find out what caused the death. 
Finding out your baby has died is devastating. You should be offered support and have your options explained to you. If you're alone in hospital, ask the staff to contact someone close to you to come in and be with you.
Before the birth, a person with skills and experience with parents who have lost a baby should be available to talk with you about whether you would like to see a photograph of your baby, have a memento such as a lock of hair, or see or hold your baby.
A baby may have died during late pregnancy (called intrauterine death). Or, a baby may have died during labour or birth (called intrapartum death).
What happens after a baby is stillborn?
Your midwife or doctor should ask you if you would like to see, touch or hold your baby. This is a highly individual decision. Many parents decide to see and hold their baby, and most find it of help and comfort to do so, but, equally, some may not. It's up to you to decide what to do, and you should be given time and space to make up your mind.

Your instincts may be to see and cuddle your baby, but worries about what he or she may look like could hold you back. To help you to decide what is right for you, your midwife or doctor can describe your baby to you. Maybe one partner could look first, or you and your partner could look at a photograph of your baby. Some people know instinctively that they don't want to see their baby, while others choose to or not to for religious or cultural reasons. 
After a stillbirth, many parents want to see and hold their baby. It's entirely up to you whether you wish to do so. You'll be given some quiet time with your baby if this is what you want.
The important thing is to take time over your decision, and be sure about how and when you want to say goodbye to your baby. Whatever you decide about the post mortem, your views and wishes should be respected. If you go ahead, your doctor should tell you when the results are likely to be available. 

Some of the possible causes of stillbirth include the following.
Congenital abnormalities — such as a genetic condition or heart condition.
A medical condition in the mother — such as diabetes, high blood pressure in pregnancy or pre-eclampsia.
Problems that can cause bleeding during pregnancy— such as placental abruption or placenta praevia.
Complications during birth.
Certain infections.
Problems with the umbilical cord or placenta.
Major injury or trauma to the mother's abdomen (the tummy area).

Grieving the loss of a baby is a very traumatic experience. It's normal to feel a range of emotions, including shock, disbelief, deep sadness, anger and emptiness. There’s no right or wrong way to feel and it's okay for you to take as much time as you need.
The care and support you receive during this time should consider your beliefs and practices. Your preferences and values should be respected. 

https://www.pregnancybirthbaby.org.au/what-is-a-stillbirth

new fetuscore childbirthcore birthcore pregcore pregnantcore pregnancycore familycore wombcore memorycore miscarriagecore 2027

r/shortscarystories
10 hr. ago
KieranWriter


Family Photo


The father stood at the front of the 
family photo and beamed a huge smile.

The kids were seated in front of 
the father on little stools.

His wife Deborah was at his side 
and he had his arms around her.

The camera was an automatic one 
the father had set before quickly 
running to get in to the frame.

Click. Big smiles.

The father walked over to the camera.

Just one more. Click. Big smiles.

It was done. A perfect family portrait. 
Get this up in a frame and he can take 
it with him wherever he goes...

The father put the kids to their beds 
and then his wife in front of the TV. 
It was Desperate Housewives; her favourite!

It made the father smile.

Don’t worry dear, I’ll do the dishes. 
I’ll load the washing. You just watch TV.

The father was a perfect husband. He did 
everything that he said he would. A real 
whizz around the house.

The house was sparkling 
by the time he had finished.

There was a chime on Deborah’s phone.
It was her sister Mary
 - Hey, not heard from you all day. You ok?

Deborah won’t mind, I will just shoot off a 
short message so that Mary isn’t too alarmed.

 - Hey all good, just watching TV, really tired. 
Long day. Off to bed soon xx.

It’s fine. They look at each other’s phones all 
the time. There’s trust in this relationship.

A reply from Mary
 - OK call me tomorrow xx

The father thought for a moment, just a moment, a 
flicker of worry, then replied
 - sorry better I don’t, I’ve caught a bad sore throat.

The father went into the living room to Deborah and 
gave her a big kiss on the forehead...

The next day, the father puts the frame up in 
the hallway, it will be the first thing that people 
will see when they walk into the house - the beautiful 
family, everybody’s dream...

Then he spent about an hour mowing the lawn.

After everything around the house was sorted, the father 
knew he could relax, finally relax and that the pressure 
was on for anything unexpected visits, so they don't walk 
into a dirty home...

He got into the car and took it out of the garage, turned it 
around and hit the road heading out of suburbs and through the city.

He loved his family, he really did, but sometimes a man needs a change 
and this father needs a fresh start. It wasn’t his first change of scenery.

He looked at the copy of the picture of his wife and kids on the dash
board and he felt a stab of pain...

If only he had taken that picture when they were still alive...

new familycore hometowncore horrorkin family photo

r/TwoSentenceHorror
11 hr. ago
SkullStar

“I only want two kids; no more, no less”, my husband reassured me as I smiled.

The twins went inside the house and as my husband's pregnant mistress crossed the street, my foot pressed on the gas pedal.

new familycore pregcore twincore feticidal

I was at my friends house, whose 5yr old little
brother died very recently due to a fire. He lived with his aunt and uncle. At dinner, his 4yr old
cousin blessed the meal. "Dear God, thank you for this meal. And I know your
keeping Brenden safe. Never stop playing with him.
Amen."
Little kids GMH

Mar 23, 2011 at 11:30pm by Carly, AR

new familycore kgmh gmh

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

Francis Edmund Bessette
Male 1904 - 1917  (~ 12 years)

Name	Francis Edmund Bessette 

Father	Augustin Seymour Bessette,   b. 1870,   d. 28 Aug 1948  (Age 78 years) 
Mother	Marie Louise Poulin 

Born	Jul 1904 	Richford, Vermont  
Gender	Male 
Died	1917 	Richford, Vermont

 	
The Bennington Evening Banner, Friday, October 10, 1919
Boy Suffocates In Elevator
Head Forced Between Knees When Caught in Pit by Descending Car

Richford, Oct. 8 ? Edmund (Edward?) Bessette, the 15-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Bessette, died of suffocation shortly after six o?clock tonight in a very unusual accident, his body being caught between the bottom of an elevator pit and the descending elevator, which forced his head between his knees and shut off his breath.
The accident happened as the lad went down to the basement of the Sweat Comings building for the purpose of getting some cracked ice to put in ice cream tanks for he Corliss Candy Kitchen where he was emplo9yed after school hours.
The buckets were filled with ice and it is supposed that the boy pulled the cable starting the elevator down and it pushed him under it. The accident was discovered when the boy failed to show up. H.H. Comings, first selectman, and Dr. R. M. Pelton were summoned and removed the body to the undertaking rooms of Powell & Comings, where and examination was held. No broken bones or even abrasions were discovered on the body and death was found due to suffocation.

Buried	All Saints Cemetery, Richford, Vermont

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

new familycore vermontcore bessette

Today my aunt found out she's having a girl 
She told me she was upset, I asked why She said "I don't think anyone can live up to be as great as you, but then I remember that she will have you to look up to and to become as
wonderful"
My aunts love for me GMH:)

Jul 15, 2013 at 4:00am by Ashley S

new lgmh familycore gmh

Yesterday I saw a mother and daughter studying
for a big test, and the daughter has a disability . A man at the restaurant paid for their dinner and said, " God bless you for taking the time and working with
YOUR daughter, and not paying someone else to do it".
Loving families like this GMH !

Mar 22, 2011 at 3:00am by Morgan E,
Nashville, TN

new yesterdaycore familycore gmh

Baby Moses law for abandoning newborns

In Texas, if you have a newborn that you're unable to ca̢re for, you can bring your baby to a designated safe place with no questions asked. 

The Safe Haven law, also known as the Baby Moses law, gives parents who are unable to ca̢re for their child a safe and legal chøice to leαve their infant with an employee at a designated safe place—a hospıtal, fire station, free-standing emergency centers or emergency medical services (EMS) station. 

Then, your baby will receive medical ca̢re and be placed with an emergency provider.

Information for Parents

If you're thinking about bringing your baby to a designated Safe Haven, please read the information below:

Your baby must be 60 days old or younger and unhἀrmed and safe.

You may take your baby to any hospıtal, fire station, or emergency medical services (EMS) station in Texas.

You need to give your baby to an employee who works at one of these safe places and tell this person that you want to leαve your baby at a Safe Haven.

You may be asked by an employee for famıly or medical history to make sure that your baby receives the ca̢re they need.

If you leαve your baby at a fire or EMS station, your baby may be taken to a hospıtal to receive any medical attention they need. 

Remember, If you leave your unhἀrmed infant at a Safe Haven, you will not be prosecuted for abandonment or neglect.

new abandoncore abandonedcore abandonmentcore babywave lawcore hospitalcore medicalcore havencore abortioncore abondoncore texascore texancore childbirthcore neonaticide

Go to TwoSentenceHorror
r/TwoSentenceHorror
13 hr. ago
Classic-Dog8399

 ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵖˡˢ ⬇️

When I picked up my daughter from the mental institution, something was off about her.

It was not just the feeling in my soul, but the stitches across her forehead.

new soulcore horrorpost horrorposters horrorbuff familycore mentalcore acrania

Mary Bell, 11-Year-Old Serial Kıller, Scotswood, England, 1968 - M*rdered Martin Brown (age 4) on May 25, 1968 and Brian Howe (age 3) on July 31, 1968. Her best friend Norma Bell, 13, (not related) took part in the 2nd m*rder. 
Mary attempted many mvrders besides those. Quotes: “I like to hur͘t people.” - “Brian Howe had no mother, so he won’t be missed.” - “Mvrder isn’t that bad, we all dıe sometime anyway...”

new murdercore scotswood england serialkillercore marycore mary bell

Horror Confessions
@Horror_Fessions 
"When I was 8 I would hear what seemed like a younger girl calling for me in my back yard, my mom decided to ask around to see if any young boys had the same name as I did, turns out 8 years prior, a girl and her brother with the same name as I were murdered in a
courtyard behind our house."

new horrorbuff horrorposting familycore murdercore

🔴 - 🔪 - 🔴
🔪 - 😈 - 🔪
🔴 - 🔪 - 🔴

new redcore murdercore nevermore design by alysssa

Raͩnͤsͣoͭmͪ

new 𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖙 murdercore

         __________
       [___________]
        |      . - .       |
        | , ( o . o ) . |
        |   > | n | <   |
        | `    ` " `   `  |
        | POISON!  |
        `  " " " " " " " `

new medcore murdercore poisson deathcore dyingcore coco héctor deathforevercore deathanddyingcore disneycore ernesto de la cruz hector rivera voldemort

i̸̦͙̯̐ͅt̵̛͍͓̱͔̳̍̓͋̽̓͑̚͝͠'̴̧̧̩̝̓ͅs̸͓̲̜͒̌... m̵̨̨̢̢̡̢̢̡̨̨̡̧̢̧̛̛͔̞̖̝͔͕̮͖̹̩͚͙̰͎̺͔̠͙̬͈̦͍̟̲͍̩͖͈̬͙̱̳̭̘͎̳̜̟̱̱̥̫̙̰̺̹̬̟̝͖̫͉̣̪̘̠̙̫̣͉͈͍̱̙̞͖̗͚͍͍̼͇͍̪̝͚̟̙̞̬͈̱͙̠̣̖̭̰̹̤͈͍̭͈̪̰̥̦̠̑̔̏̑̊͆̑̿̽̔̄̓͒̀̄̄̈́̆͂̍̎̇̑͂̔̑̿͐͌͌̾͋̀͒̒̇̂̊̏̂͒͊̌͛͂̈́̀̆́͆͌̑̿̇̑̆̉͆̑͐̍̌̇͑͐͆͌̂̍́͑̃̈̌̾͆́͑̅͑̐̋̒͗̽̉̂̀͑͑̾̅̔͂́̇̓́͆̈͒̎̊͗̔͌̈́̔̔́̈́͋́͒̍͆̉̀̏͛̏̈́͊́̓̌̉̑̾̒̔́͌̑̎͗͆͛̍̎̒̎́̊̓̽͌́͆͌́͐̏̌̒͑͛͗̀̌̀̇͂̍́̒̽̇̈́̔͂̏̌̎͐̿͐̈́̅̉͋̈̔̓̓̀͑̿̔̋̾́͌͘͘̚̚̚͘͘͘̚̚̕̕͜͜͠͠͠͠͠͝͠͝͝ͅͅë̵̡̨̡̢̧̡̦̫̗̞͕̱͉̪͉̼̫̱̯̳̗̱͎̥͈̪̮̺̺̪̼̗̬̭͙͓̙̮͎̼͇͇̻̼͙͉̲̭̲͓̮́̐͗͆̓͐̽̀̽̒̎̈̎͒͜͝͝͠ͅͅ?̵̧̧̧̢̡̡̧̢̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̛͉͎̮̟̞͓̪̜̻͕̳̞̰͚̘͍̠̼̫͈͙͉̙͇̰̠̼̲̼̟̹͎̞̙͔̹̻͙͉̞̩͚̫̮͖̳̳͉̩̳̹̞̝̹̰̩͈̮͙̦̻̩̤͕͚̗̻̩͕̫̣̦̰̬̮̩͈͔̮̜̙̟̺͍̤͈͔̺̬̳̫̟͔̙̣͖͎͍̗͓̜̙̯̹̗͓̗̖̱͉̦͊̉͐̋̑͆̓̉͊̒̃̎̾̈́̎̍̉͛̈́̂̾͋͊̈́́̓̓̐̈́̈́̋̌́̌͒̿̿͒̌̓̽̌̈́͗̉̎̀͐̃̈́̔̈́̐̄̑̅̾̐̉̿͛̆͊̉̈́͂̉̋́̽͂͗̄̄͛͂͆͊̃͑̉̏́̑̅͗̑̋͌̑̉̅͒̋̐̌͐͛̿̐̅͑͑̌̓̃͂̓̂̌́̄̊͌̋̍̀̂̀̿̐̐̿͆́̇̋̈́̎͛̆̈́̓͆́̃͐͐̅͋̾̆̅͆͌͊̄͋͑̿̑̍̓͑̀͒͂̏͑͂̈́̎̀́͊̑͌͋͊̾̔̅̓͂́̃̉̀́̿̍̿͛͒̓̈́̀̇̇̍̈́͊͆̑̽̍́̈̌̉͒̈́̒̀͒̅͗̈́̏͊̾̂͌̎͗̽̒͆́̀͒̀́͋̏͌͒͛͒͛̌͐̀͂̓͊͘̚̕̕̚̕͘͘̚̚͘͘͘͘̚̕̚̚̚̚̚͘̚̕͘͘͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅ

new zalgo murdercore copypasta ᴄᴜsᴛᴏᴍɪsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

What GENS are y’all? 🤨

Lost Gen – 1883-1900 😩 

Greatest Gen – 1901-1927 👵🏽👴🏾

Silent Gen – 1928-1945 🤫 

Baby Boomer Gen – 1946-1964 👩🏽‍🍼👶🏽👨🏾‍🍼
 
Gen X – 1965 - 1980 ❌ 

Millennial – 1981-1996 💎 

Gen Z – 1997-2012 💤

Gen Alpha – 2013 - present 🎁

new familycore listcore peoplecore gens

r/shortscarystories
3 yr. ago
deontistic

Unnatural Birth

ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ

There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance.

Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed.

I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın.

I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . .

I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

new familycore surgerycore reddit

r/shortscarystories
1 day ago
CBenson1273

My Aunt Tried To Protect Me From My Mother
My childhood was a nightmare. My mother hated me and took every chance to show it. Nothing I ever did was good enough. ‘B’s on report cards were because I was stupid. Unfinished chores were because I was lazy. Any beatings I got were because I deserved them. And my father was just as bad.

Fortunately, her sister was my refuge. When things got too bad, I could go over there to escape for a day or two. Perhaps that was why my mother didn’t like Aunt Lisa. The feeling was mutual.

So I was surprised when my aunt told me she’d invited my parents over for tea tomorrow.

“Why would you invite them here? The whole reason I come here is to get away from them!!”

“I know,” she replied. “But that all ends tomorrow. I’m going to have a talk with them; they aren’t going to mistreat you anymore.”

I knew in my heart they’d never change, but she was determined to try.

The next day, I sat in the corner as my parents entered.

“There you are, you wretched child,” my mother said. “Come home this instant and stop causing trouble!”

“Now, now, Lydia,” replied my Aunt. “That behavior is exactly why I called you over today. It’s quite enough.”

“HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO RAIS—!”

“Do calm down, Lydia. All that screaming isn’t good for your blood pressure. What’s say we all relax, have a nice cup of tea, and discuss this like adults?”

My mother still looked furious, but she took the proffered cup and retook her seat.

“How you treat Annie isn’t right. It needs to stop.”

“You have no say in what I do in MY home. And whatever MY daughter gets, I can assure you it’s deserved.”

“So you aren’t open to change, then?”

“Absolutely not - that girl’s gotten exactly what she deserves.”

“Very well, then. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

“Come to wh—“ my mother started when she suddenly began to foam at the mouth and grasp at her throat.

“Don’t mind that,” my Aunt said. “Just a bit of poison I placed in your cups. I was hoping you’d agree to change your ways, but clearly you never will. Goodbye, sister.”

After my parents had collapsed on the floor, I looked over at my aunt. “What did you do?”

“What needed to be done,” she replied.

“But what if they’d agreed to stop?”

“Then I’d have given them the antidote I was keeping in my purs—“

A look of shock crossed her face as her throat closed, replaced by panic as she rifled desperately through her purse.

“Looking for this?” I asked, holding up her syringe.

“But…. why?” my aunt asked as she collapsed.

“Remember all those times you saw my bruises and scars and sent me back there anyway?”

“But I loved you like a daughter,” she gasped with her final breath.

“Then you should’ve done better,” I said

new familycore unaliving reddit

𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒,

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦’𝑠 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑖𝑒,

𝐵𝑢𝑡, 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒,

𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑦.

𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢, 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠,

𝐹𝑒𝑒𝑑’𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡’𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓-𝑠𝑢𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑒𝑙,

𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠,

𝑇ℎ𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑙.

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑’𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑎𝑢𝑑𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔

𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑏𝑢𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡

𝐴𝑛𝑑, 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑙, 𝑚𝑎𝑘’𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑛𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔.

   𝑃𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑒—

   𝑇𝑜 𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑’𝑠 𝑑𝑢𝑒, 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒.

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑤

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦’𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑,

𝑇ℎ𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦, 𝑠𝑜 𝑔𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑛𝑜𝑤,

𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑.

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠,

𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑙𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠,

𝑇𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠

𝑊𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑙-𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒.

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦’𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒

𝐼𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑟 “𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒

𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑢𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑒𝑥𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑒,”

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑏𝑦 𝑠𝑢𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒.

    𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑙𝑑

     𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙’𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑.

𝐿𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡

𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟,

𝑊ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑠𝑡,

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑, 𝑢𝑛𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.

𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑏

𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑑𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑦 ℎ𝑢𝑠𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑦?

𝑂𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑏

𝑂𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓-𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒, 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑦?

𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟’𝑠 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒

𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝐴𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒;

𝑆𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒,

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

     𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒,

     𝐷𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒.

new poetrycore poetcore poemcore humanitiescore sonnet

-`ღ´-𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱-`ღ´-
𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔨𝔶,𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫.𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱,
𝔴𝔢’𝔩𝔩 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔯𝔰,𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.
𝔑𝔬 𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔥, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔲𝔰,𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡,𝔰𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢—𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰,𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰.
ℑ’𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔞𝔶,𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢,𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱,
𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱.

new poetrycore poetcore poemcore fraktur

r/shortscarystories
3 mo. ago
Intrepid_Wanderer

ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ

Delivery Room

My grandparents were worried when I said I'd decided to get the tablet.

They're a bit old-fashioned, but they mean well. The thing is, it's 2084. 

Most people who can get the tablet just go ahead and accelerate 

through all nine months of pregnancy. The baby can be born as soon 

as the parents like- no need to endure mornıng sickness or false 

warnings for labor. And miscarriages are nearly a thing of the past- 

most babies are accelerated at the first warning. Medical technology 

is truly amazing.

Not everyone accelerates. Some people worry about those obscure 

studies on bonding ability in accelerated babies, some consider a 

"natural" course an unmissable experience and some just don't have 

access to it. Most of the time, though, people accelerate.

I was so excited to get to the hospital. I didn't even get an ultrasound 

done first- the test was positive, and I was about to see my baby 

anyway in a few minutes.

There were the occasional horror stories. Most of them were urban 

legends, tales of some quack who messed up and made horrific 

things happen. Truth was, there was very little to mess up, especially 

at a nice clinic like this one. With today's medications, I could 

expect to hardly feel the labor and go home with my family on the 

same day.

They said I'd feel a tingling in my abdomen, maybe even some light 

kicking. At first I did, but it was more uncomfortable than I'd imagined. 

It was like a twisting, stretching sensation inside of me. I hated to 

imagine what it might have been like if the tablet didn't also act as an 

aesthetic.

I tried to close my eyes and breathe through it. Something was 

soaking through the bed- must be my water breakıng. But it smelled 

metallic, and I was so dizzy. Why didn't I hear crying? Shouldn't it have 

worked by now?

Someone started shouting, but I couldn't open my eyes to see why. 

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was a doctor 

asking about ultrasounds and the words "ectopic pregnancy."

new familycore Science Fiction & Fantasy delivery room

𝕭𝖊 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙,
𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖆 𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊,
𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖊𝖕, 𝖘𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒,
𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖋,
𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙’𝖘 𝖕𝖔𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖆𝖗.
𝕭𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌,
𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖘 𝖇𝖔𝖑𝖉,
𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘,
𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙,
𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊.
𝕷𝖊𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖊,
𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖞,
𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐
𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖞.

new poetrycore poetcore poemcore different

“Si dovrebbe, almeno ogni giorno, ascoltare qualche canzone, leggere una bella poesia, vedere un bel quadro, e, se possibile, dire qualche parola ragionevole".

new poemcore italiancore

To my dear darling baby.
Author: Anonymous
Baby Name: Baby Zepeda
Birth Date: May 2011
Abortion Date: October 2010

The pain sometimes is so hard to bear, even after 11 years. I regretted it all the moment I woke up from the procedure. I screamed, “My baby!”. I’m so sorry I was weak and insecure. Your dad didn’t want to keep you because we were barely making it and didn’t want to give you a bad life. I was scared, no one would love me like your dad and he would leave me if I kept you. How wrong we were. He wouldn’t have left me. He would have loved you so much. Baby, you are missed every second of my life. Both your dad and I regret our decision. He also hurts for you too even tho he doesn’t show it. You have 2 sisters and 1 brother. I can’t wait to hug you and hold and kiss you in heaven. Oh my baby. How could I have been so stupid and weak. I know you are with God, Jesus y tu bisabuela y tus tios! I love you with all my being and hope you can forgive me. Your passing lead me to God. The only positive. I love you!

Posted: Jul 6, 2022

new familycore abortioncore

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 8
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

As she pulled the blankets up
to his chin, Plankton's hand
reached out, grasping for hers. "Stay,"
he murmured, his voice
barely above a whisper. Karen squeezed his
hand gently. "Always," she promised.

They sat in the quiet of
the room, the only sound the
rhythmic squeezing of the fidget
toy. Plankton's eyelid grew
heavy, his breathing deepening.
"It's ok," Karen whispered,
stroking his forehead. "Rest now."
Plankton's hand tightened briefly
around hers before his grip
slackened. His eye fluttered
closed, and she watched him
slip into a deep, much-needed
sleep.

During the week, Plankton got
more comfortable as Karen 
helped make adjustments. She
let him stim safely without any
judgment, even suggesting
different ways to fidget. And
she saw Plankton's old self shine
through, too. As usual, he stayed
up late watching movies. He'd
sigh and lightly tease Karen when
it came to mundane matters. Yet
she knew when it came to sensory
matters and potential triggers, it's
unnegotiable. He did open up to her
more due to his fears which came
from the autism. He didn't try to
steal the krabby patty formula any
more, but that didn't stop him from
spying on the krusty krab.

But their son Chip, whom they
adopted at birth, was going to
come home. Chip had left during
the beginning of the week before
Plankton acquired autism, to a
week long camp with some school 
mates of his. But now it's the
weekend, and Chip will be coming
back from his trip today.

Karen felt a pang of anxiety
as she thought about Chip
seeing Plankton. Would he
understand? Would he be scared?
Would he still love him? "Plankton,
Chip's old enough to underst--"

"No," Plankton said firmly,
his voice clear. "I don't want
anyone to know." Karen knew
his fear of change, of being
different. "But, Plankton,"
she began, her voice gentle.
"Chip is our son, and he might
notice changes..."

Plankton's eye grew stormy.
"No," he repeated. "I don't want
to be..." Plankton trails off as
Chip himself came in excitedly.
"Mom; Dad!"

Plankton's gaze darted to their
son, his hand tightening around
his fidget toy. She watched as
Chip rushed over, his eyes full
of excitement from his camp
adventures. "Hi, I'm home!" Chip
says, hugging Karen before turning
to Plankton.

Plankton's body tensed, his
eye avoiding Chip's gaze. "Hi,
son," he murmured, his voice
forced, But Chip, ever cheerful, 
doesn't seem to notice.
"Dad!" Chip said, launching
himself at Plankton.

"Welcome home," Plankton said,
his voice a monotone. Chip's
expression fell a little, but
his excitement was too great
to be dampened.

"How was camp?" Karen asked,
trying to ease the tension.
Chip's enthusiasm was
infectious. "It was amazing!
We did archery, and I even
made a new friend!"

Plankton's gaze remained
on the fidget toy, his thumb
flicking the switch back and
forth. "That's... nice," he
managed, his voice tight. Karen
could see the effort he was
making to engage.

Chip chattered away, not
noticing the strain in Plankton's
voice. "Her name's Luna, and she's
super cool! We're gonna be
pen pals!"

Plankton's gaze flicks up to
meet Karen's. She gave him an
encouraging smile, willing him to
find his place in the conversation.
"Cool," he murmured, his mind
racing to process the sudden
flood of information. "Pen pals."

Karen watched as Chip's
eyes searched Plankton's face,
his youthful innocence unable to
comprehend the gravity of the
situation. "Why don't you show
us if you've any pictures
you took?" she suggested,
trying to shift the focus.

Chip nodded, eagerly pulling out
his phone. He sat beside
Plankton, scrolling through the
photos, his excitement a stark
contrast to his father's
detached demeanor. Plankton's
eye flicked to the screen, his
heart racing at the thought
of impending touch.

Karen watched as Chip's
fingers hovered over a picture
of himself and Luna. "Look,
Dad," he said, holding out the
phone. Plankton blinked. "Oh
nice," he says.

But as Chip's hand reached
out to hug, Plankton's arm shot
up, his antennae quivering.
"Don't," he murmured, his voice
barely audible. "Don't touch me."
Chip's hand hovered in the
air, confusion clouding his
features. "But, Da-"

Karen stepped in quickly.
"It's ok," she whispered. "We're
all family."

new familycore lunacore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 12
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

But Plankton was too lost in
his rage to hear her. "Get
OUT!" he screamed, his antennae
thrashing. "I don't need Chip!"
The words were a knife in
Karen's, but she knew they
were not truly his own.

"Dad," Chip's voice was small,
his eyes wide with shock. "I didn't
mean to..."

But Plankton's anger was a
beast that had been unleashed,
his words cutting like a knife.
"I said get out!" he roared, his
body vibrating with rage.

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, looking for the man
he knew beneath the storm of
emotions. But all he saw was a
stranger, a creature of fear and
frustration. He took another
step back, his heart racing. "But
Dad," he whispered, his voice
barely audible. "I didn't do anything
wrong.."

Plankton's antennae stilled,
his breathing erratic. "You're
right," he murmured, his voice
deflating like a balloon. "You
haven't done anything wrong, in
fact, you're pretty perfect." The
words were laced with sarcasm, a
bitterness that made Karen's fists
clench. "After all, it's not like
you called me burdensome or
anything," he added, his voice
dripping with false sweetness.

Chip's eyes widened, the
impact of his father's words
hitting him like a slap. He
looked at Karen, his eyes
pleading for help, for
understanding. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "That's not
what I me-"

But Plankton's anger had
become a living entity in the
room, feeding off his fear and
frustration. "Oh, I'm sorry,"
he said, his voice thick with
sarcasm. "Did my little falling
accident hurt your precious wittle
feelings?" His antennae twitched,
his eye glinting with rage.

Chip took another step back,
his chin quivering. "But Dad,"
he protested, his voice shaking.
"I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't mean it,"
Plankton interrupted, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "You're
so innocent, so pure." His antennae
waved erratically. "But let me tell
you a secret, Chip. You see, there's
a wonderful thing called tact.
Maybe you should try it sometime!"

Chip felt his screen burn with
embarrassment, his eyes filling
with tears. "But Dad," he whispered,
his voice shaky. "I just wanted
to-"

"Oh, I know what you wanted,"
Plankton sneered, the sarcasm
dripping from his words like acid.
"You wanted to be the hero,
didn't you? The big strong
boy who saves his daddy from
his own brain!" His antennae
twitched erratically. "But let me
tell you something, Chip. You can't
fix this. You can't make it all
better with your toys and your
stupid questions. So why don't
we all just praise perfect little
Chip for trying, shall we.." The
words were a slap in the face, each
one hitting Chip harder than the
last.

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his body trembling. "But Dad,"
he whispered, his voice
desperate. "I just want to help."
"Oh, how noble," Plankton said,
his voice thick with sarcasm.
"Want a medal?" His antennae
quivered with anger, his eye
glinting with spite.

"I just want to be with
you," Chip said, his voice
breaking. "To make you happy."
"Well, you're doing a fine job,"
Plankton said, his voice like
a whip. "Keep it up, Chip.
You're a regular miracle worker."
His words were barbed, each one
designed to cut deep.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
desperate for some sign of the
love he knew was there. But
all he found was anger, a wall
so thick it was suffocating.
"Dad," he said, his voice
shaking. "I'm sor-"

"Don't," Plankton interrupted, his
voice cold. "Don't you dare say
you're sorry. You don't get to
feel sorry for me. You don't get
to pity me." His antennae
twitched with agitation. "You don't
even get to be upset about what
you said. Because it's all true,
isn't it?" His eye bore into
Chip's, his voice like ice. "I'm a
burden. That's all I am. That's all
I'll ever be."

Chip's breath hitched, the
weight of his father's words
crushing him. "Dad," he managed,
his voice a whisper. "That's not
what I-"

But Plankton talked over him,
his voice a sneer. "Oh, I see.
You're going to play the innocent
now, are you? Pretend like you didn't
just say I'm a burden?" His antennae
were a blur of movement, a silent
testament to his rage. "How
convenient."

Chip felt his world crumbling,
his heart shattering into a
thousand pieces. "But Dad," he
whispered, his voice shaking.
"I didn't-"

"Don't you dare lie to me,"
Plankton's voice was like a
knife, cutting through the air.

Chip felt the room close in, his
throat tight. "But Dad," he choked
out, "I didn't mean-"

"Oh, the poor little hero,"
Plankton said, his voice a mocking
whisper. "So misunderstood."
He rolled his eye dramatically.
"It's always about you, isn't it?"
The sarcasm was a knife twisting
in Karen, but she knew
it was the fear and pain speaking.

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his own brimming with tears. "But
Dad, I just want to help," he
whispered, his voice shaking.
"To make things right."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
gaze cold. "You want to make
things right?" he echoed, his
voice laced with condescension.
"How sweet! Why don't you go
play the hero somewhere else!"

Chip felt the sting of his
father's sarcasm, his eyes
welling up. "But I'm your son,"
he whispered, his voice
breaking. "I'm supposed to-"

"Oh, I know your role,"
Plankton said, his tone biting.
"The golden child, always
trying to fix things." His antennae
quivered with disdain. "Dad,"
Chip protests, "I just want
you to be happy."

Plankton's eye narrowed, his
face a mask of condescension.
"How sweet," he said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "But you
see, Chip, happiness is a
concept lost to me. I'm just
a broken toy now, remember?"
He twirled the fidget toy in
his hand, his thumb moving
compulsively over the patterns.

Chip's cheeks flushed, his eyes
filling with tears. "But Dad,"
he whispered, "you're more than that."

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
face a contorted mask of
disdain. "Oh, really?" he said,
his voice thick with patronizing
sarcasm. "Enlighten me, oh great
and wise Chip. Tell me what I
am." He leaned back in his chair,
his antennae waving in the air
as if inviting a lecture from
his son.

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to keep his voice steady. "You're
my dad," he said, his eyes
shining with unshed tears. "And
you're... you're still you, even if
you're a little different now."

But Plankton's sarcasm was
a shield he couldn't penetrate.
"Ah, yes," he said, his voice
dripping with mockery. "The
ever-elusive 'you're still you'
argument. How original." His
antennas twitched in disdain.

"You don't get it," Chip's voice
was desperate, his eyes
pleading. "I don't care if
you're different. I just want
you to be happy."

But Plankton's anger had
become a shield, his words a
barbed wire fence keeping his
son at bay. "Oh, you don't
care?" he said, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. "How
magnanimous of you." His antennae
twitched in a mock salute. "Well,
let me tell you something,
Chip. You can't just ignore
the fact that your perfect
little world has been shaken
up, can you?"

Chip felt the sting of his
father's patronizing tone, his
eyes burning with unshed tears.
"But Dad," he said, his voice
quivering. "I just want to-"

"Oh, I know what you want,"
Plankton interrupted, his voice
dripping with condescension.
"You want the perfect little
storybook ending where we all
hold hands and skip off into the
sunset." His antennae waved in
the air dramatically. "But life
doesn't work that way, Chip.
Sometimes, bad things happen to
good people, and there's no
magical cure for it." His eye
was cold, his antennae stilled.
"So save your pity for someone
wh-"

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm and firm. "Plankton, that's
enough." She knew his words
were a defense, a way to push
away the pain. "Chip's just
trying to help."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
breath hitching. He looked at
his wife, his anger momentarily
fading. "I know," he murmured.
"But I don't want his pity."

Karen's gaze was filled with
understanding. "It's not pity,
Plankton," she said, her voice
soothing. "It's love."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
expression softening slightly.
"But what good is love when I can't
eve-"

"Love is more than just
touch," Karen interrupted, her
voice gentle. "It's understanding,
it's patience, it's being here
for you." She took another step
towards him, her hand outstretched.
"It's about connecting in
other ways."

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
eye flicking to her hand and then
back to her face. He knew she was
right, but the fear was a beast
that ruled him. "But I don't
know how to," he murmured, his
voice barely audible. "How do
I connect without... without
the things I used to do?"

Karen ached, her hand
still extended. "We'll find a
way," she assured him, her voice
steady. "Together."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 13
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
eye focusing on the fidget toy
in his hand. It was a silent
testament to his internal
turmoil, his mind racing with
thoughts and fears. He knew Karen
was right, that love didn't need
to be physical, but the concept
was still so alien to him, so
difficult to grasp in his current
state. "I'm trying," he murmured,
his voice tight. "But it's just..."

Karen's hand reached out to
cover his, her touch gentle. "We
all are," she said, her voice
soothing. "And that's all we can
do." Her gaze was filled with
understanding, her eyes speaking
volumes without a single word.
"We're all just trying to
navigate this new world,
together."

Chip watched his parents. He knew
his father was struggling, but he
also knew that love didn't have to
be about touch. He took a step
forward, his hand hovering..

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his eye wide with fear. Karen
quickly intervened, placing a
hand on Chip's shoulder. "Not
now," she whispered, her screen
meeting her son's. "Let's give
Dad some space."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving Plankton's, the
desire to connect with his
father a palpable force. But
Plankton's reaction was a stark
reminder of the invisible barriers
his injury had erected, the
sensory minefield that surrounded
him. The room was thick with
silence, the only sound the
steady tick of the clock on the
wall.

Karen's hand remained on
Plankton's, her touch a gentle
reminder of her presence. "It's
ok," she murmured, her voice
soft. "We're all learning
together."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye meeting hers with a glimmer
of hope. "I know," he said, his
voice tight. "But it's so hard."
The words were a confession,
his vulnerability laid bare.

Karen ached, her grip
on his hand firm. "I know," she
said, her voice understanding.
"But we'll get through this.
Together."

Chip took a deep breath, his
eyes still locked on his father's.
He knew that his dad's reactions
were not personal, that his
brain was just trying to make
sense of the world in a way
that was different now. He
forced a small smile, his voice
steady. "We're here for you, Da-"
But Plankton's antennae shot
up, his body stiffening. "Don't,"
he murmured, his voice tight.
"Just... don't."

Karen stepped in, her voice
calm and firm. "Plankton," she
said, her eyes never leaving
his. "Chip's just trying to
tell you that he loves you."
Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye flicking to his son and
back to Karen. The words hung
in the air, a bridge between
his old life and his new reality.
He knew his son was trying,
but the fear was a thick fog
that clouded his mind, making
it difficult to see the love
beyond the barrier of his own
emotions.

Chip knew his father was in
pain, and his words had only
added to it. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "I don't
want you to feel li—"

"Don't," Plankton interrupted,
his antennae drooping. "I know
what you're trying to do."
His voice was a mix of
fatigue and frustration. "But it's
not that simple."

Chip's eyes searched his
father's, the depth of his pain
mirrored in the tremble of his
chin. "But Dad," he said, his
voice shaking. "I just want to
make you happ..."

Plankton's antennae shot up,
his body stiffening like a board.
"Don't," he murmured, his voice
strained. "I don't want your pity."
The words were a warning, a
reminder that his love was not
conditional on his ability to
function in the traditional sense.

Karen's gaze remained
steadfast on her husband's face,
seeing the raw pain beneath
the anger. She knew his
frustration was a shield, a way
to protect himself from the
overwhelming sensory assault that
his brain was still trying to
comprehend. "It's getting late,"
she said. "Let's all get to bed."
Plankton's antennae drooped, his
body slumping in defeat. He
was tired, so tired of fighting, of
trying to make sense of this new
world of sensory overload and fear.
He nodded, his voice a whisper.
"Ok." The silence that followed
was heavy, filled with the
unspoken words that hung in the
air like a thick fog. As they
made their way to their separate
rooms, the weight of the evening's
interaction settled on Chip's
shoulders. He knew his father's
reaction wasn't personal, but it
was hard not to take it that way.
He lay in bed, his mind racing
with thoughts of his dad, his
heart heavy with the knowledge
that their relationship was
forever changed.

The next morning, Chip awoke
and went to his parents room.

The door was open, the light
filtered through the blinds. Plankton
was sitting on the edge of the bed,
his antennae drooped low. He looked
up as Chip entered, his eye
wary, as if expecting another
onslaught of emotions he couldn't
comprehend. Chip paused.
He knew he had to tread carefully,
his father's sensory issues a
delicate dance they were all still
learning. "Hey," he said, his
voice soft. "How are you?"
Plankton's antennae twitched, a
sign of his internal struggle.
He took a deep breath, his eye
flicking to the fidget toy
resting on the bedside table.
"I'm... ok," he murmured, his
voice tentative. "Just tired."

Chip took a step closer, his
movements deliberate and slow. "Do
you want to talk?" he asked, his
tone gentle.

Plankton's antennae quivered, his
expression a mix of fatigue and
frustration. "Talking doesn't change
anything," he said, his voice
flat. "But if it makes you feel
better..." His eye met Chip's, the
unspoken challenge clear.

Chip took a deep breath,
his mind racing. He knew his dad
was in pain, knew that he needed
to be patient. He sat down on
the bed, his movements careful.
"It's not about making me feel
better," he said. "It's about...
understanding."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye focusing on Chip. For a
moment, the anger and fear
receded, replaced by a hint of
curiosity. "Understanding what?"
his voice was gruff, but there
was a crack in the armor, a
glimpse of the man he used to be.

Chip took a deep breath, his
heart racing. "Understanding...
how to be there for you," he
said, his voice earnest. "How to
love you in a way that doesn't...
hurt." He swallowed hard, his
throat tight. "I know it's different
now, but I still want to be your
son."

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye flicking to the floor. He
was quiet for a long moment,
his thoughts racing. He knew Chip
meant well, but the concept of
nonverbal love was so foreign
to him. "I know you do," he
murmured, his voice tight. "But it's
not your job to fix me." "I don't want to
fix you, Dad," he said, his voice
shaking. "I just want to be with
you." He reached out tentatively,
his hand hovering over the
fidget toy. "Can I?"

Plankton's antennae shot up, his
eye wide with fear. "No," he said,
his voice sharp. "Don't touch it."
He knew the toy was a lifeline, a
way to ground himself in a world
that felt like it was spinning
out of control. But he also knew
his son meant well.

Chip's hand retreated, his eyes
filling with tears. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered. "I just want to...
connect."

Plankton's antennae drooped, his
eye closing briefly. He knew his
son's intentions were pure, but
his own fear was a cage he couldn't
seem to escape. "I know," he said,
his voice softer. "But it's not that
simple."

Chip felt his chest tighten, his
desire to help his father a physical
ache. "But there must be a way,"
he said. "We'll find it."

Plankton's antennae quivered, a
tiny spark of hope igniting in
his eye. "Maybe," he murmured,
his voice tentative. "But you have
to be patient." He picked up the
fidget toy, his thumb tracing
the patterns.

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving his father's. "I can
do that," he said, his voice
determined. "I'll do whatever it
takes."

 Plankton's antennae twitched, a
tiny glimmer of appreciation in
his eye. "Thank you," he murmured.
The words were a lifeline, a
connection in the storm of his
emotions. "But you have to
understand," he continued, his
voice strained. "Sometimes, I just
need to be left alone."

Chip nodded, his eyes never
leaving his father's. "I get it,"
he said. "But I'll always be
here when you're ready."

new familycore emotionalcore brain chip

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 14
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) 

Karen's voice was gentle
but firm. "Plankton," she
said. "Chip's right. We'll
find a way to connect that
works for all of us. We just
have to keep trying. Why don't
we all go drive to the new
sensory park they just opened?"
It was a place designed for
those with sensory processing
disorders, with areas that catered
to different sensory needs. "It's a
bit of a drive across town, but
do you wanna try going?" They
both nodded.

They parked the car. "Let's 
go slow, ok?" Plankton nodded. 
They approached the sensory
garden, a place designed to be
calming. The scent of lavender
was thick in the air, and the
soft crunch of gravel beneath
their feet was a comforting
contrast to the harshness of the
city.

As they walked through the
gates, Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye scanning the area. 
The sensory park was a
symphony of soft colors and
soothing sounds, designed to
minimize the overstimulation that
so often triggered his seizures. "This
is nice," he murmured.

Chip watched his father, his
heart in his throat. He knew
how much this meant to him,
how much Plankton was struggling.
"It is," he said, his voice
matching his dad's quiet tone.
He took a deep breath, his
sensors tuned to his father's
every movement. "Do you want to go
on the swings?"

Plankton's antennae twitched, his
eye flicking to the swing.
He nodded slowly.

Chip led the way, his
movements cautious. He knew
his dad needed space, needed to
feel safe. They approached the
swing set, a simple metal frame
with plastic seats. Plankton
closed his eye, the rhythm
familiar and comforting as 
he swings.

Chip took the swing 
next to Plankton, his 
movements tentative. 
He knew his father's 
fear of touch was a 
battleground, and he 
didn't want to cross 
any lines.

The squeak of the
chains and the gentle
breeze through the leaves
of the nearby trees were
the only sounds that 
accompanied them as
they swung back and 
forth, side by side.

Chip watched his father. He
wanted so badly to reach
out, to hold Plankton's
hand, but he knew the
boundaries. Instead, he
focused on matching his
swing to Plankton's, their
motion in sync. He hoped
the rhythm would be a
comfort to his dad, a
small piece of the connection
they used to share.

As they swung, the tension
slowly began to ease from
Plankton's antennae. The
back-and-forth movement
was soothing, a gentle rocking.

After a while, they got off
the swings.

Plankton's antennae were still
twitching with the residual
energy of the movement, his
body craving the sensory input
that had become so rare. Chip
noticed and searched the park for
a suitable activity. His eyes
lit upon the sandbox. "How
about playing in the sand?"
he suggested, his voice hopeful.
Plankton's antennae quivered
with interest, his eye lighting
up slightly. He had always
enjoyed the feel of sand
between his... well, the
equivalent of fingers. Karen
smiled, seeing the potential
for a positive interaction.

They approached the sandbox,
the fine grains glinting in the
sunlight. Chip took a seat on
the wooden bench beside it,
watching as Plankton tentatively
placed his hand into the cool
sand. His antennae quivered with
pleasure at the sensation, his
body relaxing slightly. Chip
followed suit, his movements
deliberately slow and cautious,
mirroring his father's. He
knew that sudden movements or
touch could send Plankton spiraling,
so he remained still, his eyes
on the sand.

Together, they began to
sculpt the sand, their hands moving
in harmony without any need
for words. The gentle scrape
of the grains against their
hands was a soothing balm, a
silent conversation that
transcended the barriers of
language and injury. Plankton's
fears and anger from the night
before seemed to melt away with
each mound of sand that took shape.
Chip watched his father, his
heart swelling with hope. He had
found a way to connect, a
sensory experience that didn't
overwhelm Plankton. As they
played, he noticed his father's
breathing slow, his antennae
relaxing slightly. It was a
small victory, but it felt like a
huge step in the right direction.

The sun grew higher in the
sky, casting warm rays down
on the sandbox. Karen sat
beside them, her eyes filled with
gratitude for this moment of
peace.

Plankton's antennae twitched
slightly as he focused on the
sand, his movements precise. Chip
watched, mimicking his father's
careful touch. The sand was a
bridge between them, a shared
experience that didn't require
words. They built sandcastles
together, their hands working
in harmony despite the unspoken
fear that hung in the air.

Chip felt a weight lift from
his shoulders as he saw Plankton's
eye light up with each new
creation. The sand was a
therapy in itself, a gentle
reminder that love didn't need
to be loud or physical to be
felt. They built a sandcastle
together, their silent
companionship a balm to the
wounds of the previous night.

After a while, they 
finished. "Want to
try something else?" Chip
asked, his voice soft.
Plankton's antennae quivered,
his eye flicking to the nearby
beach ball. "Maybe a
game of catch?" Plankton 
suggested, his voice tentative.
Chip nods. He knew
his dad's fear of the 
unexpected, so he rolled it
gently to him.

Plankton caught the
ball. He tossed
it back to Chip, his eye
watching the arc of its
flight with a hint of 
excitement.
Chip's throw was
careful, underarm, 
keeping it within
Plankton's visual
comfort zone. He knew
his dad's limits,
his fear of fast
movements.

Plankton's antennae
twitched as he caught
the ball again. The
sensation of the cool,
smooth plastic was a
comfort in his hands.
He threw it back to Chip,
his movements calculated,
his mind focused on the
game. It was a simple
activity, but it was one
where he felt in control.
Chip watched his father, his
movements mirrored. He knew
his dad's fear of the
unexpected, so he
threw the ball with a gentle
underhand toss, keeping it
slow and predictable. Plankton
smiled slightly, his eye
tracking the ball's
trajectory.

Later, Karen told them it's
time to go, to start the drive
back home. She got in the
driver's seat as Plankton and
Chip sat in the back together.

Chip's eyes were on his dad,
his heart racing with
excitement. The car's
movement was a gentle rocking,
akin to the swing. Plankton watched
the world pass by. The
sensation of the car's vibrations
was soothing.

Karen glanced in the rearview
mirror, her eyes searching for any
sign of distress. But Plankton was
calm, his antennae still. The drive
was a quiet reprieve, a chance for
them to process the newness
of their relationship. Chip knew that
his dad's sensory issues made
the world a minefield, but in this
moment, the steady hum of the
car was a comfort.

As Karen drove, Plankton's
eyelid began to droop, his 
antennae slowing.

The gentle vibration of the
car and the predictable rhythm
of the road was a balm. He
leaned back, his head resting
against the seat, his hand 
clutching the fidget toy.
Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, his eye
half-closed, head dropping.
Chip felt his heart swell
as Plankton's head slowly
dropped onto his shoulder.
And as Plankton starts to
snore gently, Chip realized
his dad had fallen asleep,
his head resting heavily on
his shoulder. He stiffened for a
moment, fearing that any
sudden movement might
wake his father, might
disrupt the fragile peace
they had found. But Plankton's
snores grew deeper, the tension
leaving his body.

Karen glanced in 
the rearview
mirror. "It's ok,"
she murmured. 
"You're doing a
good job."

Chip felt his muscles
relax slightly, the weight of
his father's head a comfort.
He knew that this moment
was precious, a sign that
his efforts were not in vain.
He leaned into the warmth of
his dad's body, his hand
finding its way to the fidget
toy. His thumb traced the
patterns, mimicking the
rhythm that Plankton had
found soothing. Chip then
decides to take a selfie. He
holds up his phone after looking
at his dad, who started to drool
at the corner of his open mouth.
He chuckles quietly, snapping the
photo as Plankton remains asleep.

Chip posts the picture with
adding this caption:
"Went to the park with my
dad @ Sheldon Plankton
today 💙👨‍👦💨 "

Plankton still
snored softly against Chip's
shoulder. Chip noticed more
drool escaping the corner
of his mouth and felt a
surge of affection mixed with
concern. "Mom, he's drooling,"
he whispered to Karen, his voice
barely audible over the car's
hum. Karen chuckled, her eyes
meeting Chip's in the mirror.
"It's ok," she said softly.
"It's a sign of his tiredness.
Let him sleep."

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Sleepıng on your side or back will help alleviate neck paın, according to Harvard Health. If you're on your back, you'll want a rounded pillow under your neck for support. If you're on your side, you'll also want a pillow directly under your neck for support so your spine stays neutral.
There are a couple of sleeping options if you have ear paın. The Cleveland Clinic advises you to sleep on the opposite side of the ear giving you trouble. You also want to sleep slightly elevated so that you're taking off any of the pressure from your inner ear. 
If you have a cøld or the flu, try sleeping on your back but with your head propped up. This can help keep your sinuses from becoming more congested than they probably are and can help you rest easier. 
According to Keck Medicine of USC, the best sleeping position for lower back paın is to lie on your back so your spine stays neutral. For lower back paın specifically, it can also help to use a pillow under your knees so that your legs aren't pulling on your spine. 
For those who wake up in the morning with hip paın or who find their hip paın exacerbated by the way they're sleepıng, try sleepıng on your back. You can also sleep on the opposite side of the hip that's giving you trouble, the Center for Spine and Orthopedics suggests. You should also put a pillow between your knees to take some pressure off your joints.
Back sleepıng and side sleepıng can both help with knee paın, though back sleepıng is generally more recommended. If you're sleepıng on your back, the Arthritis Foundation recommends placing pillows under your knees to take any pressure off. If you choose to sleep on your side, place a pillow between your knees.
Sleepıng on your back can help with perıods paın. This position, especially with a pillow under your knees, takes the pressure off your stomach and organs, as well as your back — all of which can help ease cramping. 

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Drowning In Sorrow
I had a cousin who drowned when I was much younger. At the time, he was off at college, so nobody knew about it until the next day. His parents were taking care of his 2-year-old niece. The night he drowned, she woke up screaming in the night and would not go to sleep. She just kept pointing to a picture of him that was on the nightstand. His parents gave it to her, and she hugged it and wouldn't let go of it all night.

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𝔄𝔪𝔬 𝔐𝔲𝔠𝔥𝔬

ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥,

𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰,

𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰

𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔲𝔰

𝔦𝔫 𝔦𝔱𝔰 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔩𝔬𝔴.

𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰

𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯,

𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪,

𝔣𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔧𝔬𝔶 𝔱𝔬𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰.

ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔬𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡,

𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰,

𝔪𝔶 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔯,

𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢,

ℑ 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢.

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𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔱 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩

𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔢𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫

𝔘𝔫𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔬𝔫.

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔶𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩

𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔶𝔢𝔱 𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩

𝔄𝔩𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔪𝔢; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔳𝔞𝔦𝔫.

𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢

𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔡𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢

𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔢

𝔉𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔪𝔢; 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢.

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CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS vi

(Autistic Author)



"Plankton," she says firmly, her voice 
cutting through the tension. "Let's take a 
breathe."

He glares, his antennae vibrating with 
agitation. But he does as she says, 
taking a deep, shaky breath. Chip 
watches him, eyes wide and full of 
tears.

"Chip," Karen says, her voice calm. 
"Why don't you go to your room and play 
for a bit?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton's face. He slips off the couch, 
clutching the rock to his chest. But doing 
so, Chip accidentally touches Plankton 
when he passes, and Plankton yelps in 
alarm when Chip brushes his shoulder.

"Sorry," Chip whispers.

Plankton flinches, his antennae shooting 
straight up as he jolts back from the 
contact. "I told you, no touching!" he 
snaps, his voice a thunderclap in the 
tense silence.

Chip's eyes widen with fear and 
confusion, his lip quivering as he backs 
away, holding the rock protectively. "I 
didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice 
barely above a whisper.

Plankton's antennae wiggle in an 
exaggerated fashion, his eye rolling 
dramatically. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he says 
in a high-pitched mockery of Chip's 
voice. "I didn't mean to touch you and 
make everything about me."

Karen's face falls, and she knows 
they've taken a step backward. But she 
also sees the hurt in Plankton's eye, the 
pain that he's trying to hide with anger.

"Dad," Chip says, quivering. "That's not 
fair, I..."

But Plankton doesn't let him finish.

"You know what's not fair?" Plankton 
spits, his antennae whipping back and 
forth in fury. "Is having a son who thinks 
he knows everything about me!"

Chip's eyes fill with tears as he stumbles 
back, clutching the rock tighter. "I just 
wanted to help," he whispers, his voice 
breaking.

Plankton's in a sarcastic imitation of 
Chip's movements. "Oh, the great 
helper," he says, his voice dripping with 
sarcasm. "You think you can just fix me 
with your questions and your pity?"

Chip's eyes fill with hurt as he watches 
his father mock his innocent concern. 
Karen feels a mix of anger and sadness, 
but she knows she must tread carefully.

"Daddy," Chip says, his voice shaking as 
he puts the rock down, "I'm sorry if I 
made you mad."
But Plankton isn't listening. He picks up 
the rock and with a sudden, violent 
movement, he throws it against the wall. 
It shatters into a hundred pieces, the 
sound echoing through the room.
"Son, I’m sorry if I made you mad!”
Plankton's sarcastic tone cuts through 
the silence like a knife, his antennae 
flailing wildly. Chip flinches at the 
sudden outburst, his eyes wide with 
shock.

"That's what you want, right?" Plankton 
continues, his voice rising. "To fix 
everything? Sorry doesn't cut it," 
Plankton snaps, his antennae trembling 
with rage.

"No, Dad," Chip says, his voice barely 
audible, "I just wanted to understand."

But Plankton isn't done.

"Oh, I'm sorry, little genius," Plankton 
says, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Is 
that what you want to hear?"

Chip stares at him, his eyes brimming 
with tears. "No," he whispers. "I just 
want you to be okay, I love you!"

But Plankton's anger is a living, 
breathing thing, swirling around him like 
a storm.

"Love isn't enough, Chip!" Plankton 
yells, his antennae quivering with rage. 
"You can't just love away my problems! 
You don't get to decide that for me!"

Karen's heart is in her throat, but she 
forces herself to speak calmly. 
"Plankton, please," she says, her voice 
shaking. "You're scaring him."

Chip nods. “I just…”
But Plankton's fury is unrelenting.

"You think a simple game of 'I love you' is going 
to make everything okay?" Plankton 
interrupts, his voice a roar that shakes 
the walls of their tiny underwater home.

Chip's eyes fill with confusion, and he 
takes a step backward, trembling. "But, 
Dad," he whispers.

"But nothing!" Plankton's antennae whip 
around, and he stands, his whole body 
vibrating with anger. "You think you can 
fix me? You think you can just love me 
and everything will be fine?"

Karen tries to interject, but Plankton's 
rage is like a tidal wave, crashing over 
everything in its path.

"You think you gotta have the last word 
just to show how great and special you 
are Chip. But in the real world No means 
No so BACK OFF."

Chip's eyes widen, and he stumbles 
backward, the shattered rock on the 
floor a stark reminder of Plankton's 
outburst.

"Daddy," he whispers, his voice 
trembling.

Plankton's antennae only stiffen 
further.

"I'm sorry, Chip," Karen says, her voice a 
thread of calm in the storm. "Let's go to 
your room, okay?"

Chip nods, his eyes never leaving 
Plankton, who's still standing with his 
antennae flailing. Karen can see the hurt 
in her son's gaze, and it breaks her 
heart. She helps him off the couch, and 
together, they navigate the shards of 
rock on the floor.

As they leave the room, Karen casts a 
sorrowful glance at Plankton, who's now 
slumped into the couch, his antennae 
drooping. The anger seems to have 
drained out of him, leaving behind a 
tired, defeated creature.

In Chip's room, Karen helps her son sit 
on the bed, the soft glow from the 
glowfish lamp casting a warm light on 
his tear-stained face. She sits beside 
him, her hand gently rubbing his back in 
comforting circles. "You didn't do 
anything wrong, sweetie," she whispers. 
"Daddy just has a hard time with his 
feelings."

Chip's eyes are glued to the floor, his 
chest heaving with quiet sobs. "But 
why?" he asks, his voice cracking.

Karen takes a deep breath, trying to find 
the right words. "Sometimes, when 
people are upset or scared, they don't 
know how to show it," she says gently. 
"Daddy's just trying to deal with his own 
stuff, and it can be hard for him to talk 
about."

Chip nods, his eyes still on the floor. 
"But why does he have to get so mad?" 
he asks, his voice trembling.

"It's not that he's mad at you," 
she says softly. "It's just that he doesn't 
know how to express himself without 
getting upset."

"But why?" Chip asks, his voice muffled 
by the pillow he's buried his face in.

Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes 
misting over. "Daddy's brain works 
differently, Chip," she says, her voice 
cracking. "Sometimes, when we're sad 
or scared, we get mad instead."

Chip lifts his head, his eyes red and wet. "But why 
doesn't he just tell me he loves 
me?" he asks, his voice a broken 
whisper.

Karen sighs, sad but 
understanding. "Some people show love 
in different ways," she says. "Daddy 
might not say it out loud, but he does it 
every day. Like when he takes you on 
adventures or when he makes you 
laugh."

"But why can't he just say it?" he asks.

Karen's throat tightens. "Sometimes, it's 
hard for Daddy to say the words," she 
explains gently. "But that doesn't mean 
he doesn't feel it."

Chip sniffles, his eyes never leaving 
hers. "But why can't he just tell me?"

Karen sighs, her hand still rubbing 
soothing circles on his back. "It's 
complicated," she says. "Daddy's brain 
is like a treasure chest with lots of locks. 
Some days, the right words just can't 
find the key."

Chip looks at her, his eyes searching for 
a simple truth amidst the complexity. 
"But I want him to feel happy with me," 
he murmurs.

Karen nods, her voice soft. "And he is, 
sweetie," she says. "Just in his own 
way."

They sit in silence for a moment. Then 
Karen stands, her movements slow and 
deliberate. "Let's leave Daddy alone for 
now," she suggests. "He needs some 
space to sort through his feelings."

Chip nods, his eyes still glistening with 
unshed tears. Together, they leave the 
room, closing the door softly behind 
them.

As they walk down the corridor, Karen's thoughts are 
a tumult of emotions. She's angry at Plankton for his 
outburst, but she also understands his pain. He's 
been dealing with his condition alone for so long, 
and now he's forced to confront it with their son's 
innocent curiosity.

They enter the living room, and she can see 
Plankton sitting on the couch, his antennae 
drooping. He looks up as they come in, his 
expression a mix of guilt and defiance. Karen takes a 
deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in 
check. "Why don't we watch a movie?" she 
suggests, her voice gentle. "Something to help us relax?"

Chip nods, still sniffling, and Plankton's antennae 
perk up slightly. It's a small victory, but it's 
something.

They settle on the couch, Chip curled up in the 
middle with a blanket. Karen chooses a movie 
they've watched together before, a silent gesture of 
comfort and familiarity. Plankton's eye is on the 
screen, but his antennae are still twitching with 
leftover anger.

new chip off the old talks familycore autismcore

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS x

(Autistic Author)


Karen's heart squeezes as she sees the 
vulnerability in her husband. She 
reaches out and takes Plankton's hand, 
giving it a comforting squeeze. "We're all 
learning here," she says. "And we'll keep 
figuring it out together." Then, Chip speaks 
up again, his voice a little stronger. 
"Daddy," he says, "I still want to show 
you affection."

Plankton looks up, his antennae 
twitching with a hint of sadness. "I know, 
buddy," he says. "And I appreciate that. 
But sometimes, my brain needs a 
different kind of love."

Chip frowns. "But I 
don't know how," he says.

Plankton's antennae wiggle as he thinks. 
"How about this?" he suggests, his eye 
brightening slightly. "You can make me a 
'love rock'."
Chip's eyes light up with excitement, and 
Karen nods encouragingly. 

"You can 
pick out a rock from the beach or the 
yard, and every time you feel like giving 
me a hug but know I might not be able 
to handle it, you can give me the rock 
instead. That way, I'll always know 
you're thinking of me."

Chip nods eagerly, already imagining the 
perfect rock in his mind. "I'll find the 
biggest, smoothest rock," he says, his 
eyes shining with purpose.

Plankton's antennae rise slightly, and he 
manages a smile. "That's my boy," he 
says, his voice a little less strained.

“I’ll go look in our backyard right now,” 
Chip says as he does so.

Karen watches him run off and looks at 
Plankton, her eyes filled with emotion. 
"You ok?" she asks, squeezing his hand.

Plankton nods, his antennae still. "I think 
so," he murmurs. "Thank you, Karen."

Karen squeezes his hand in return, her 
eyes filled with understanding. "You're 
doing great," she whispers.

As Chip rummages outside, the sound 
of his little feet pattering on the ground, 
Karen and Plankton sit in the quiet 
kitchen, the weight of their conversation 
still hanging in the air. Plankton's 
antennae droop slightly, but there's a 
newfound openness in his gaze.

"Do you think he'll understand?" 
Plankton asks, his voice still raw from 
the previous night's emotions.

Karen squeezes his hand, her eyes filled 
with warmth. "He's a smart kid," she 
reassures him. "And he loves you. He'll 
get it."

They sit in silence for a moment, 
listening to the distant sounds of Chip's 
exploration. Then, Plankton speaks up, 
his voice tentative. "What if I have 
another meltdown?" he asks.

Karen squeezes his hand, her gaze 
unwavering. "We'll be there for you," she 
says. "We'll help you through it."

The sound of the back door opening and 
closing echoes through the house, and 
Chip returns, holding a rock that fits 
perfectly in the palm of his hand. It's 
smooth, with a slight shimmer in the 
light. "Here it is!" he exclaims, holding it 
out to Plankton. "It's your love rock!"

Plankton's antennae lift, and a genuine 
smile spreads across his face as he 
takes the rock. "It's perfect," he says, his 
voice filled with emotion. He can feel the 
warmth from Chip's hand still lingering 
on the stone. "Thank you, buddy."

Chip beams, his earlier fears forgotten in 
the excitement of the moment. "Can we 
go to the park now?" he asks, hopeful.

Karen looks at Plankton, who nods 
wearily. "Sure," she says, pushing her 
chair back. "But let's take it slow, okay?"

The park is a familiar place, filled with 
the sounds of children's laughter and the 
distant hum of the city. As they walk, 
Chip chats away, his voice a balm to 
Plankton's nerves. Karen notices the 
subtle changes in her husband's gait, 
the way his antennae twitch with every 
new sound or sight. She knows he's 
trying hard to stay present, to not get 
overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught 
of the outside world.

When they reach the playground, Chip 
runs off to the swings, his love rock 
clutched tightly in his hand. Plankton 
watches him, his gaze a mix of pride 
and concern. He knows his son's energy 
can be too much for him sometimes, but 
he doesn't want to miss out on these 
moments.

Plankton takes a deep breath, his 
antennae wiggling as he gathers his 
courage. He approaches the swing set, 
his eye scanning the area for any 
potential triggers. The chains of the 
swings glint in the sun, and he can 
almost feel the sway of the seat beneath 
him. He hasn't swung in years, not since 
before Chip was born.

Plankton sits on the swing by Chip.

The metal is cold and hard beneath him, 
but as he starts to push off with his foot, 
the chains begin to squeak a comforting 
rhythm. The motion is familiar, almost 
soothing, reminding him of a time when 
the world was simpler, less stormy. He 
watches Chip, his heart swelling with 
love as his son's laughter fills the air.

As they swing side by side, Plankton's 
antennae twitch with every movement of 
the breeze, every giggle that escapes 
Chip. The wind rushes through the 
playground, and he feels the rock in his 
pocket, a reminder of their newfound 
understanding.

The rhythmic motion of the swing starts 
to work its magic, and Plankton's 
beginning to relax. The gentle sway 
feels like a lullaby for his overstimulated brain. 
Plankton smiles, his antennae waving in a way that 
says everything is ok.

They swing in silence for a while, the 
steady back and forth a comforting 
metronome to the chaotic symphony of 
the playground around them. Plankton 
can feel the tension in his body slowly 
uncoiling, the squeak of the chains 
becoming a familiar melody that soothes 
his frazzled nerves.

new chip off the old talks familycore x

r/TwoSentenceHorror
12 hr. ago
CalebVanPoneisen

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓

Stinging paın jolts me awake, but my
broken bødy reminds me that I did
survive the plane crash.
Dozens of exotic snails are grazing my motionless bødy, slowly
tearing into my flesh, while I can do nothing but silently witness my 
torment..

new horrorbuff airplanecrashcore paincore snailcore fleshcore TwoSentenceHorror

GREAT CHIP ix
(Autistic author)

Chip took a deep breath, trying
to compose himself. "I know I can't
fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking.

Plankton's antennae stopped moving,
his eye focusing on Chip with an intensity
that made him feel like he was being x-rayed.
"You can't," he said, his voice firm. "But you
can support me. You can be there without
trying to change me."

Chip nodded, swallowing the lump
in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say.
"But I want to understand. I want
to be here for you."

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his eye narrowing slightly. "Understand?"
he echoed, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"Sure, it's easy. Just imagine your
brain's a pinball machine on tilt. Sounds
fun, right?"

Chip felt a smile tug at the corner
of his mouth despite the tension,
which only adds to Plankton's anger.
"Well, when you put it that way..."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye squinting at his son's response.
"What?" he barked, his voice
sharp.

Chip tried to hold onto his smile,
his heart racing. "I mean,
if it's like a pinball machine, I can
learn the patterns," he said, his tone
carefully light. "I'm pretty good at video
games, so..."

Plankton's antennae waved wildly,
his eye flashing with anger. "You think
this is a game?" he shouted, his voice
filling the room. "You think
I enjoy being out of control? WELL THEN
PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THE FUN OF FORGETTING
WHERE I AM FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!"

Chip's smile dropped, his eyes wide
with shock at his father's outburst.
He took a step back, his hands up
in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry,"
he said quickly, his voice trembling.
"I didn't mean to make a joke of it, I
just..."

"You just what?" Plankton spat, his
small body vibrating with rage. "You just
don't get it! You can't get it! You're not
autistic, you don't know what it's like to have
your brain turn on you like that!"

Chip's eyes filled with tears,
his heart breaking at the accusation.
"I know, Dad," he said, his voice
barely above a whisper. "But I'm trying."

Plankton's antennae quivered with
the force of his rage. "You don't know,"
he said, his voice cold. "You can't know.
All I see is a little child playing pretend,
thinking he can understand what I go 
through! And yet you're the one asking
for help! Face it, you're never going to get 
it and so don't expect ME to explain it to you!"

Chip's eyes watered, the words hitting
like a sledgehammer. He had never seen
his father so furious, so unyielding. "I'm sorry,"
he whispered, his voice shaking. "I just want 
to help."

Plankton's antennae stopped their wild
movements, his eye focusing on his son with
a cold, calculating gaze. "Help?" he repeated,
his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to
help by poking fun at my condition?"

Chip's eyes searched his father's,
his heart racing. "Dad, I didn't mean it
like that," he said, his voice trembling.
"I just wanted to lighten the mood."

Plankton's antennae waved, his eye
still cold and distant. "Don't," he said,
his voice like ice. "Don't try to lighten
it. And don't you DARE make fun of it."

Chip's eyes fell to the floor,
his heart aching with the weight of his
father's anger. "I'm sorry," he whispered,
his voice trembling. "I di-"

"You're sorry?" Plankton's voice
was a whip crack in the silence. "Sorry
doesn't cut it!" He slammed his fist
on the table, causing their plates to rattle.
"You think an apology is enough
when you belittle what I go through?"

Chip's eyes widened with fear
as his dad's anger grew. He'd never
seen Plankton like this before, his
tiny body trembling with rage, his antennae
thrashing like live wires. The kitchen
felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in.

"Dad, please," Chip begged, his voice
shaking. "I didn't mean it that way."

But Plankton was beyond listening, his
tiny body vibrating with fury. "You don't get to
make jokes about this!" he roared, his antennae
whipping about like agitated snakes. "You don't get to
reduce it to a game you can win with a simple joke!"

Chip took another step back, his heart
pounding in his chest. He had never seen
his father this enraged, and it scared him. "Dad, I-"
he began, but Plankton's tirade didn't stop.

"You think it's funny?" Plankton shouted,
his antennae a blur of motion. "You think
it's fun to live with this?" His voice grew
louder, his words sharper. "You think it's
easy to lighten up at the drop of a hat?"

Chip's eyes filled with tears as
his father's anger grew, his voice
crackling like static. He hadn't meant to make
light of his dad's condition, but now it
seemed as if he'd made everything worse.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands
shaking.

Plankton's antennae whipped around
his head, his eye bulging. "Sorry won't
make it go away!" he screamed, his voice
bouncing off the walls. "You think you can
make it better with a laugh?" He slammed
his fist down again, the sound like a gunshot.
"It's not a joke, Chip!"

Chip's eyes filled with tears as he watched
his father's outburst, his heart pounding.
He had never seen Plankton like this,
his anger a living, breathing thing that filled
the room like a toxic cloud. "I know," he whispered,
his voice shaking. "But I want to help."

Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his
body shaking with the force of his emotions.
"Help?" he spat, his voice a whip. "You want
to help? Then stop making it about you!"

Chip's eyes grew wide with fear
as he watched his father's anger
boil over, his voice shaking. "Dad, please,"
he whispered, his heart racing.

Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly,
his body vibrating with uncontrollable
rage. Suddenly, he grabbed the
coffee mug from the table,
flinging it across the room
where it shattered against the wall.
Shards of ceramic flew everywhere,
puncturing the silence like shrapnel.

"Dad, no!" Chip yelled, his heart racing
faster than it ever had before. He had
never seen Plankton this out of control.
And Karen knew she had to act fast.

Her voice was calm but firm as
she approached Plankton. "Sweetie,
it's okay," she said, her hands up in a
non-threatening gesture. "Let's go
to your workshop. You know that's your
safe space."

Plankton's antennae thrashed, his
eye darting around the room, seeking
anything to target his anger. "I don't
want to go anywhere!" he roared, his
body shaking with the intensity of
his emotions. "It's not okay!"

Karen stepped closer, her voice
steady. "It's okay to be upset,"
she said, her eyes never leaving
his. "But Chip..."

But Plankton's rage was unstoppable.
He lunged for the nearest object,
a framed photo of Chip,
his grip tightening as he raised it
over his head, ready to smash it
against the floor.

Karen's eyes widened, her heart
pounding in her chest. She had
to defuse the situation before it
got any worse. "Plankton, no," she
pleaded, her voice steady. "Please,
don't."

But Plankton's rage had taken over,
his body moving on autopilot as he
swung the photo frame with all his might.
It crashed to the floor, the shattering
glass echoing in the small room.
Chip's eyes grew round with shock,
his body frozen in place as he watched
his father's tantrum unfold.

"Dad, please stop!" he shouted, his voice
cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!"

But Plankton's rage was a runaway train,
his antennae quivering with the intensity
of his anger. He stomped over to the counter,
grabbing a plate and flinging it against
the wall, where it shattered into a hundred
tiny pieces. The sound was deafening, the force
of the impact sending a shiver down Chip's spine.

Karen stepped in front of Chip,
placing herself between him and the storm
of Plankton's fury. "Stop," she said firmly,
her voice a calm oasis in the chaos.
"You're scaring him."

Plankton's antennae stilled, his
eye focusing on Karen with a mix
of anger and confusion. For a moment,
his body seemed to pause, his arm
still mid-air, a kitchen towel gripped tightly
in his hand. Then, with a roar, he threw it,
the soft fabric landing limply on the floor.

Karen's eyes searched her husband's,
seeing the turmoil behind the rage.
"Please, Plankton," she said, her voice
soothing. "Let's talk about this."

But Plankton's anger was like a
wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
He picked up another mug, his arm
winding up to throw it, when Chip
suddenly stepped forward, his eyes
locked on his father's. "Dad," he said,
his voice shaking. "Please don't."

Plankton's antennae paused, his
arm still raised. "WHY?" he growled,
his eye wild with anger. "You think
you can just tell me what to do?" And
then, with a sickly twisted satisfaction,
Plankton hurled the mug in front of
Chip, purposefully missing him.

The room seemed to hold its breath
as the mug spun through the air,
the shattering of porcelain on the
tile floor a symphony of pain. "Dad,"
Chip said, his voice shaking. "It's not
about control. It's about us. Our fam..."

But Plankton was beyond words,
his rage a living entity that
consumed him. He grabbed a toaster,
his grip white-knuckled, and hurled
it at the fridge, the metallic clang
a cacophony in the small kitchen.
"I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!"
he bellowed, his antennae a blur.

new great chip familycore ix

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi

(Autistic Author)


The wind whispers through the leaves of 
the nearby trees, carrying with it the 
scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant 
sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure, 
but one that Plankton has often missed 
in his quest to protect his son from the 
storms in his own mind.

Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a 
ball comes hurtling through the air, 
narrowly missing Plankton's head. He 
flinches, his antennae shooting straight 
up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an 
abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The 
children playing nearby laugh, unaware 
of the chaos their game has brought to 
the quiet corner of the playground.

Plankton's eye darts around, trying to 
process the sudden assault of sound 
and movement. His breath comes in 
quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can 
see the beginnings of a panic attack 
forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip 
shouts, jumping off his swing and racing 
to his side.

With surprising speed and grace, Chip 
leaps into action, catching Plankton just 
as he starts to topple off the swing.

"Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with 
urgency as he gently guides Plankton's 
unresponsive body to the soft grass 
below. The love rock still clutches in his 
small hand.

Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with 
concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling 
beside them.

Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has 
an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice 
shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen, 
his eyes filled with fear and confusion. 
"What do we do?"

Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and 
love as she takes in the sight of 
Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing, 
his antennae limp. She's been here 
before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok," 
she says, her voice calm despite her 
racing heart. "Just give him a moment. 
He'll come back to us."

Chip nods, his grip on the love rock 
tightening as he watches his father. The 
world seems to slow down around them, 
the laughter of the other children fading 
into a distant memory. Plankton's 
breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen 
reaches out, placing a gentle hand on 
his back, feeling the rise and fall of his 
chest.

The seconds tick by like hours, each 
one filled with the weight of uncertainty. 
Chip clutches the love rock, willing his 
dad to come back. He's seen this 
before, but it never gets easier. He 
remembers the first time it happened, 
the fear that had gripped him, the feeling 
of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed 
over. But now, he knows what to do. 
He's not as scared; he's prepared.

With trembling hands, Chip takes out the 
love rock, its smoothness a comforting 
reminder of their conversation. He 
places it gently in Plankton's palm, 
curling the slender fingers around it. 
"You're ok," he whispers, his voice 
steady despite the storm of emotions 
inside. "We’re here."

Plankton's body remains still, a stark 
contrast to the vibrant world around 
them. The squeaks of the swings, the 
laughter of the children, the distant 
crash of waves, all seem to fade into the 
background as they wait for him to 
return from his brief retreat.

Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his 
shoulder, offering silent support.

Time seems to stand still as they wait, 
the rock in Plankton's hand a silent 
testament to their newfound bond. The 
park's vibrant sounds muffle into a 
distant symphony, the world holding its 
breath for Plankton's return. Above 
them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light, 
the shadows dancing as if in a silent 
ballet of concern.

The seconds stretch into eternity, each 
one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes 
never leave his father, willing him back 
with all his might. The rock in Plankton's 
palm is a symbol of love and 
understanding, a bridge connecting 
them through the stormy seas of his 
mind.

As Plankton's body remains frozen, the 
world around them seems to hold its 
breath. The rustling of the leaves above, 
the distant laughter of children, even the 
crash of waves in the background seem 
to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the 
universe itself is offering a quiet 
sanctuary for Plankton's return.

Chip's eyes never leave his father's 
face, his grip on the love rock in 
Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart 
races with fear, but he squeezes the 
rock tighter, trying to channel the love 
and support he feels into his dad's 
unresponsive hand. Chip decides to 
whisper comforting words.
"Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're 
safe here with me and Mom."

Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear 
and admiration for her son's courage. 
She watches as Chip decides to 
continue.

"Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip 
whispers. "It's my way of saying I love 
you."

Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a 
glimmer of recognition in his eye. The 
world around them seems to hold its 
breath, the very air thick with 
anticipation. Chip's voice is the only 
sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony 
of the playground.

The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm, 
almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love 
Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches 
as Plankton's antennae slowly start to 
wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to 
them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice 
barely audible. "I'll always be here."

Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her 
eyes glistening with tears she's trying 
hard to hold back. The sight of her son's 
unwavering support is both 
heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. 
Plankton's chest rises and falls more 
steadily, his breathing evening out.

The rock in Plankton's hand seems to 
pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent 
acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen 
sees the tension in Plankton's features 
begin to ease, his antennae drooping 
slightly as he starts to come back to 
them. It's a delicate process, like waking 
a sleeping dragon. Any sudden 
movement could send him back into the 
storm.

Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding 
Plankton through the fog. 
"It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice 
soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's 
antennae twitch again, and Karen can 
see the spark of understanding in his 
eye.

Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax. 
The tension in his shoulders eases, and 
his antennae twitch in a way that tells 
Karen he's listening, that he's with them 
again. His breathing evens out, and his 
eyelid flickers closed.

For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then, 
Plankton's hand tightens slightly around 
the rock, giving him a squeeze that says 
'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes 
shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s 
asleep," she whispers, her voice filled 
with a mix of humor and love.

Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like 
that for a while, the three of them, in the 
quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The 
storm in Plankton's mind has passed, 
leaving them in a gentle lull.

The playground's sounds slowly start to 
filter back in, the chatter of children, the 
distant hum of the city, the rustling of 
leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps 
whispering, his voice a gentle caress in 
the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're 
safe."

Karen watches her son with a mix of 
love and sadness, knowing the weight 
he now carries. He's growing up too fast, 
she thinks, but he's handling it with more 
grace than anyone could ask for. 

Plankton's hand relaxes around the 
rock, his breathing deep and even. The 
storm inside him has passed for now, 
leaving them with a quiet, precious 
moment.

Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper. 
"Is he going to be ok?"

Karen nods, her eyes never leaving 
Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine," 
she says. "Rest is sometimes the best 
thing for him after an episode."

Chip nods, his grip on the rock in 
Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He 
looks around the park, the world coming 
back into focus. The other kids are 
playing, their laughter a gentle reminder 
of the life that goes on outside their little 
bubble of concern.

"Should we go home?" Chip asks, his 
voice still hushed.

Karen nods. "Let's get him into the 
shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby 
tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him 
good."

Together, they gently lift Plankton and 
carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip 
is careful not to jostle him too much, his 
little hands supporting Plankton's head.

Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on 
the ground and they place him down. 
His antennae are still now, no longer 
dancing with the stress of the seizure. 
His breath is deep and even, his 
features relaxed in sleep.

Chip watches him intently, his thumb 
tracing the smooth surface of the love 
rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he 
asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. 
Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce 
protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie," 
she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."

new chip off the old talks familycore xi

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xii

(Autistic Author)


The tree above them provides a gentle 
canopy, casting dappled shadows on 
Plankton's sleeping form. The leaves 
rustle in the breeze, creating a natural 
lullaby that soothes not only him but 
Chip and Karen as well. The world 
outside the shade seems to melt away, 
leaving them in a quiet cocoon of peace.

Karen watches her son with a mix of 
admiration and sadness. He's growing 
up so fast, she thinks, having to learn 
about things most kids his age don't 
have to. But Chip's strength is 
undeniable, and she knows that 
together, they'll navigate the storms that 
come with Plankton's condition.

The park's cacophony slowly starts to 
fade into the background, replaced by 
the rhythmic sound of Plankton's deep, 
even breathing. Chip sits next to him, 
the love rock still in his hand, his thumb 
tracing the smooth surface. The 
shadows from the tree above dance 
across their faces, creating a 
mesmerizing pattern of light and dark 
that seems to mirror the complexities of 
their lives.

Karen pulls out a small blanket from 
their bag and covers Plankton gently, 
tucking it around his small body. She 
looks at Chip, her eyes filled with a mix 
of love and sadness. "Why don't you sit 
with him for a bit?" she suggests. "I'll 
grab the car."

Chip nods solemnly, taking a seat 
beside his father. He places the love 
rock in Plankton's palm, curling his 
slender fingers around it. The park's 
sounds seem to fade away as he 
focuses on Plankton's peaceful face, the 
only indication of life the steady rise and 
fall of his chest. Chip's eyes drift over to 
the swings, now silent, the chains still 
swaying slightly from their earlier use.

While Karen walks to get the car, Chip 
sits in quiet contemplation, feeling the 
weight of their conversation from the 
night before. He's learned so much 
about his dad, about the storms in his 
brain that make him different. But 
instead of fear, Chip feels a newfound 
respect and love, a bond stronger than 
any storm could break.

Plankton's eye flutter open, the sleepy 
confusion fading as he sees Chip sitting 
beside him, the love rock still clutched in 
his hand. He looks around, the park 
coming back into focus. His antennae 
twitch slightly, searching for the source 
of comfort.

"Hey, buddy," Plankton says, his voice 
groggy. "What happened?"

Chip's eyes light up, his grip on the rock 
tightening. "You had a seizure," he 
explains, his voice steady. "But you're ok 
now. We're just waiting for Mom to bring 
the car."

Plankton nods, his gaze drifting to the 
rock. He opens his palm, revealing the 
smooth, shimmering stone. "Thank you," 
he murmurs, his voice thick with 
emotion.

Chip looks up, his eyes meeting 
Plankton's. "It's our love rock," he says 
simply, his voice filled with the weight of 
their new understanding.

Plankton's antennae twitch, a hint of a 
smile playing on his lips. "I remember," 
he says, his voice a little stronger. "It's a 
good rock."

The two sit in companionable silence, 
the rock a tangible symbol of their bond. 
The park's sounds slowly filter back in, 
the laughter of children, the squeak of 
the swings, the distant bark of a seagull. 
Life goes on around them, but in this 
moment, their world is small and 
focused.

As Karen pulls up with the car, she sees 
them sitting under the tree, the love rock 
in Plankton's hand. She parks and walks 
over, her eyes filled with concern. 
"Ready to go home?" she asks gently.

Plankton nods, his antennae rising 
slightly. "Yeah," he says, his voice still 
shaky. "Let's go."

They carefully help him into the car, the 
love rock still nestled in his hand. The 
drive home is quiet, the weight of the 
day's events hanging heavy in the air. 
Chip watches his dad, his heart aching 
for the silent struggle he knows he's 
facing.

As they pull into the driveway, Karen 
looks back in the rearview mirror.

"Remember, Chip," she says, her eyes 
meeting her son's in the reflection, 
"today was a learning experience. We all 
need to be patient with each other."

Chip nods solemnly, his gaze never 
leaving Plankton's face. He sees the 
exhaustion etched into his father's 
features, the quiet strength that hides 
beneath the storm. "I know," he 
whispers, his voice filled with 
understanding beyond his years.

The house is a welcome retreat from the 
overwhelming sensory assault of the 
park. Inside, everything is familiar and 
comforting, a bastion of predictability in 
a world that often seems too loud and 
too bright for Plankton. Karen helps 
Plankton into bed, tucking him in with 
the care of a lighthouse keeper guiding 
a ship to safety.

Chip sits on the edge of the bed, holding 
the love rock out to Plankton. "Do you 
still want this?" he asks, his voice 
tentative.

Plankton's hand reaches out, his eyes 
never leaving the rock. He takes it, his 
grip firm. "Yeah," he says, a hint of a 
smile playing on his lips. "It's 
comforting."

Karen gives them both a soft smile 
before leaving the room, closing the 
door gently behind her. The room is 
filled with the hum of the fish tank, the 
calming blue light casting a soothing 
glow. Chip sits with his father, the love 
rock nestled in Plankton's hand, a silent 
sentinel of their bond.

For a moment, they just breathe 
together. Then, Chip decides to speak. 
"Daddy," he says, his voice gentle and 
soothing, "I'm here for you. No matter 
what happens, ok?"

Plankton's eye flicker with 
understanding, and he squeezes the 
rock in his hand. "Thank you, Chip," he 
murmurs, his voice filled with more 
emotion than Chip has ever heard from 
him. "I'm lucky to have you."

The words hang in the air, heavy with 
meaning, as Chip nods, his own eyes 
brimming with tears. He leans in to offer 
Plankton his hand to hold. Plankton 
takes it, his grip firm, his eye searching 
Chip's for reassurance. The love rock 
remains a silent witness to their 
conversation, a physical representation 
of the unspoken affection that flows 
between them.

Slowly, Plankton's eye grow heavy, the 
lid drooping as sleep claims him once 
more. His hand relaxes around Chip's, 
the rock still cradled in his other palm. 
Chip watches his father's chest rise and 
fall with each deep, even breath, the 
storm of the day finally abating.

Eventually, Plankton's eye opens, a 
glimmer of understanding piercing the 
tempest. His antennae still, his body 
going rigid with the effort of speaking. 
He draws in a deep breath, his eye 
locking onto Chip's and also Karen’s, the 
love rock a bridge between them. "Lo..." 
he manages to murmur, the word a 
tremor in the quiet room. Karen's eyes 
widen, her heart skipping a beat. "Lo..." 
he tries again, the syllable a whisper of 
hope. The room feels like it's expanding, 
the walls stretching with the weight of 
his effort. "Lo...ve," he finally says, the 
word a shaky but clear declaration.

The air shimmers with the power of the 
spoken word, the love rock in Chip's 
hand feeling like it's vibrating with joy. 
Karen's eyes overflow with tears as she 
squeezes Plankton's hand, her voice 
choking with emotion. "Oh, honey," she 
says, her voice a gentle caress, "we 
know." Chip's own eyes sparkle with 
unshed tears, his voice trembling as he 
speaks. "We love you too, Daddy."
 "Lo...love," he manages to repeat, the 
word a treasure pulled from the depths
of his mind. Chip feels a tear slide down 
his cheek, the love rock in his hand a 
warm emblem of victory.

"You don't have to say it, Daddy," Chip 
says, his voice shaky but earnest. "We 
know." But Plankton's eye
determined, the word 'love' a beacon he 
needs to reach. With a Herculean effort, 
he whispers, "Chip...Karen...love...you." 
The room is suffused with a warmth that 
feels like a sunrise, the shadows 
retreating to the corners.

Karen stands with 
love for her family. She knows that this is 
just the beginning of their journey, that 
there will be more storms to weather. 
But with Chip by his side, she feels a 
glimmer of hope that Plankton's world 
will be a little less overwhelming.

new chip off the old talks familycore xii

GREAT CHIP xi
(Autistic author)

After a moment, she turned and walked
towards the workshop door, her steps slow
and deliberate. She paused, her hand
on the doorknob, looking back at Chip with a
mixture of pain and resolve. "I'll check
on your father," she said, her voice a whisper.
"You... you clean up here."

Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving
his mother's. He knew she was hurting too,
but she was putting on a brave face for him.
As she disappeared into the workshop,
his heart felt like it was in a vice. He'd never
seen his parents like this before.

The kitchen was a mess of shattered
dishes and splattered jelly, a stark
contrast to the usually pristine space.
He took a deep breath and began to
collect the broken pieces, his mind racing
with thoughts of his father's pain.

Karen's footsteps were quiet
as she approached the workshop,
the door slightly ajar. She could
hear Plankton's muffled sobs from
inside, his tiny body hunched
over his workbench. She took a
deep breath, steeling herself for
what she might find.

The room was a whirlwind of
half-finished inventions, wires
and gadgets scattered about.
Her heart broke at the sight of her
husband, the usually stoic and
resourceful Plankton, reduced to a
tiny, shaking figure, his antennae
drooped like the wilted leaves of
a forgotten houseplant.

"Plankton?" Karen's voice was a soft
whisper, cutting through the quiet.
He didn't look up, his sobs the
only sound in the cluttered room.
Slowly, she approached, her eyes
taking in the chaos around them.
"Honey," she began, her voice
trembling. "I know you're upset, but..."

Plankton's sobs grew louder,
his body shaking with the force of
his emotions. Karen reached out,
her hand hovering over his shoulder,
uncertain whether to touch him.

Finally, she decided that in this moment,
space was what he needed most. She
stood there, a silent sentinel, her presence
a gentle reminder that she was there
for him. "Plankton," she said softly,
her voice a balm in the storm of his
rage. "Can I get you anything?"

Plankton's sobs grew quieter,
his tiny frame heaving with the
weight of his emotions. "No,"
he said, his voice muffled.

Karen took a step closer,
her hand still hovering. "Do you
want me to stay?" she asked, her
tone gentle.

Plankton's antennae twitched,
his head nodding slightly. It was the
barest of movements, but it spoke
volumes to Karen. She stepped
forward, wrapping her arms around
his shoulders, careful not to press
too hard. He stiffened at first, but
then, ever so slightly, leaned into her.

Her embrace was gentle, her touch
like a soft breeze, offering comfort without
smothering his pain. "I always love you."

The words hung in the air,
their quiet strength a stark contrast
to the chaos of the kitchen. Plankton
felt his body begin to relax, his sobs
easing as Karen's warmth seeped in.

He took a deep, shuddering breath,
his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry,"
he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.
"I didn't mean to... I don't know..."

Karen's grip tightened, her hand
sliding up to cradle his head. "It's okay,"
she soothed, her voice a gentle lullaby.

Plankton's antennae twitched
nervously against her, but he didn't pull away.
He knew she was there for him, even when
his own mind was a tempest of confusion.

"You don't have to apologize," Karen
whispered.

Her words were a balm to Plankton's
raw nerves, and he leaned into her
embrace. She knew he was
sensitive post-episode, his emotions
like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap.
Her heart ached for him, for the fear
and frustration he felt in those moments.

Karen's eyes scanned the room,
noticing the chaos of Plankton's
workshop, his mind's refuge.
Usually, the disarray was organized,
each gear and wire in its place. Now,
it was as though a tornado had swept
through, leaving a trail of half-finished
inventions in its wake.

Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his
body still tense under her touch.
"I just... I don't want you to look
at me and see something broken
and unlovable.."

Karen's eyes filled with tears.
"You are you, and that is all 
I've ever loved."

The words hung in the air,
a gentle rebuttal to the harshness
of the earlier scene. Plankton's
sobs grew quieter, his breathing
evening out. Chip hovered at the
entrance, his heart a tumultuous
sea of regret and fear. He'd hurt
his father, and he didn't know
how to fix it.

He took a tentative step into
the workshop, his eyes scanning
the room. The mess was a stark
reminder of the turmoil Plankton
was feeling, and it only served
to amplify Chip's own guilt.
He watched his mother's careful
movements, her gentle touch,
and he desperately wanted to do
the same.

new great chip familycore xi

She Knew Something Was Up
When my great-grandma was on her last legs, she was convinced that my mom was having a baby and wanted to know if it was a girl or boy. My mom replied by telling her that she was not pregnant, and after asking the same to my aunt she said, "Oh, guess I was wrong". Here's where it gets unsettling. Exactly nine months later, I was born.

new factinate familycore reproductioncore parenthood

Spiritually — I will win.

Financially — I will win.

Career wise - I will win.

Mentally - I will win.

Emotionally - I will win.

Physically - I will win.

Family wise — I will win.

Love Life - I will win.

In my life — I will win.

I will have it all I'm claiming it.

new spiritualcore familycore wins

😘😘💚🐾

new spotcore familycore green

  .                 .          .               .     .  .        .
       .                                .                     +
                  .       .       .               __      .
.   Be an adult,                                 <  >
                    .              //\\\\\\\\\\    ||
     Not a kid.                  //|||\\\\\\\\\\   ||       .
                               //|||||||\\\\\\\\\\ ||
     Hit the toilet,    .    //||||||||||\\\\\\\\\\||             .
   .                           MM       MMmmmmmmmm==`
     Not the lid!              MM  (    MMmmmmmmmm
                               MM       MMmmmmmmmm
 !  !  !  !  !  !  !  !  !  !  MM     o MMmmmmmmmm !  !  !  !  !  !
 #--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--MM       MMmmmmmmmm-#--#--#--#--#--#
 #--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--#--MM       MMmmmmmmmm-#--#--#--#--#--#
 #==#==#==#==#==#==#==#==#==#==MM       MMmmmmmmmm=#==#==#==#==#==#

   Date: 22 Dec 1994 07:25:33 GMT

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