Love Begins
AnasAbdin
Sweet Seals For You, Always
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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Peter Solarz
sheepfilms
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Three Goblin Art
Jules of Nature
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hello vonnie
taylor price
Discoholic 🪩
Kiana Khansmith
Stranger Things
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@fraxtum
I WOULD LIKE TO FORMALLY APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE ON THE PLANET EARTH FOR BEING A HUGE PIECE OF SHIT, I KNOW I DISAPPEARED FOR WAY TOO LONG WITHOUT LETTING Y'ALL KNOW BUT SCHOOL SUCKED FOR A WHILE THERE. I AM BACK NOW AND I AM DOING DRAFTS/REPLIES PLS LOVE ME and by love me, i mean like this post if i owe you because my activity feed is fucked ty xx
He chuckled. “No. You’re not a nurse. You’re too young.” He refused to believe his companion was a nurse. She looked like she was a teenager. “How old are you?” He nodded. “Nice to meet you, too, Elise.” He noticed she smiled a lot. Although he wasn’t fond of his companion’s optimism, he was grateful his companion wasn’t a bitch. Plus, he was grateful he didn’t have to wander around San Jose because he didn’t know where his colleague’s favorite nightclub was. He was confused when she tossed the newspaper. He was positive she was quite fond of it since she, well, read it. He didn’t want his opinion to affect his companion’s opinion. It wasn’t reasonable. He didn’t comment on it, though.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” He followed his companion. He didn’t like how crowded the streets were. He wasn’t claustrophobic and he wasn’t agoraphobic. He preferred not to be surrounded, mostly because he valued his personal space. He was aware of how close he was to his companion. He questioned the reason he accepted his companion’s offer. She was a stranger. No. She wasn’t a stranger. She was a ‘nurse’. She liked to read — the shitty newspaper. She liked to smile. She liked to… help. It was weird. “Do you really want to go?” He paused. “I don’t want your parents to worry about your absence.” He pursed his lips. What if she wasn’t a teenager? What if she was actually an adult? He shrugged. “Of course. If you’re an adult, your parents don’t have to worry.”
He was quite awkward. He still didn’t understand the reason she was, well, nice. He didn’t know how to react around his companion. You’re an idiot. Don’t be awkward. You’re an idiot. Don’t argue. Just… talk. He retrieved his pack of cigarettes before he seized his black lighter. He tilted his pack of cigarettes towards his companion. “Do you want a cig?” He placed a cigarette between his lips as he waited for his companion’s response.
She scoffed lightly and furrowed her brows, though it was more out of confusion than... Well, than any other reason people scoffed for. The smile was still present on her features despite that much, and she shook her head. --Hey, it was better than having him think that she was too old, wasn't it? Yes, it definitely was. "Hasn't anybody ever told you it's rude to ask a lady her age?" Elise teased, her brows swiftly changing from their drawn together position to one raised above her hazel eyes. "I'm twenty five." She answered his question good-naturedly, not at all bothered by the fact that he thought she was too young to be a nurse. Her boss had mentioned before, on occasion, that she was better at her job than some the ladies twice her age.
Caleb wasn't the first person to be confused by Elise. It was rare, in a world like the one that we live in, to come across someone as kind and eager-to-please as her. Most people assumed she had a motive at first, though they would quickly discover that she never asked for anything in return. In fact, she hated asking for or accepting anyone's help. She gave, but she refused to receive. Making their way through the crowded sidewalk, Elise was startled by his question. Her parents? "I..." A pause. What was she supposed to say to that? "I don't live with my p-parents, actually." It wasn't technically a lie. --They had passed on, and as such, she didn't live with them. It just wasn't the whole truth.
While she cursed herself for stuttering - something that never failed to make her feel unreasonably insecure - the other was bringing out a pack of cigarettes. "Oh, no thanks. I don't smoke." She'd never thought smoking to be a pleasant habit, but she wouldn't voice her opinion nor would she hold that against him. After all, there were worse things to occupy your time with than cigarettes.
“There’s always a reason you’re pissed off. You’re a little girl. You’re too innocent. How did I know? It’s pretty simple. You’re too young to be, well, pessimistic.”
"I'm not a fucking little girl; I'm nineteen, alright? And who says I can't be pessimistic just because I'm not some old bat? Your logic is flawed."
“Right, for me too— but since you’ve apologized… I’ll let that slide, just don’t do it again— adds to the stress, yeah?”
"Yeah. Yeah, thank you. --And thanks for coming around in the first place. I know you didn't have to, so.. It means a lot."
NINE FOLLOWERS AWAY FROM MY FIRST HUNDRED WHAT IS THIS
You are broken I don’t want to fix you I want to run my finger along the shattered pieces I may bleed a little And it will hurt But you’re worth it
“No, I don’t really appreciate that tone, you called me here; I can easily turn around and leave— would you like that? No, I didn’t think so.”
"... I'm sorry. I don't usually snap like that --or at all, really. It's been, um, it's been a rough couple days."
==⊱He looked over to her at the question, his brain trying to process the exact meanings behind her words. Did she mean as in everyday life? Maybe a job? She must mean a job, right? He didn’t have one of those. He was only nineteen. He didn’t see the rush, personally.
❝I don’t. I mean, I don’t have a job. Unless that’s not what you mean unless you meant like hobbies or something but…no, I’m in college.❞ And trying his best not to get people to notice his bruises, most days.
"Really? Wow." That exclamation was genuine, though it might not have sounded that way. With that in mind, she quickly added, "I've always wanted to go to college or university or something, but I... Haven't."
She didn't have any good reason not to get herself together and apply somewhere, but she kept putting it off anyway. Nerves had sent her spiralling down into her own little reclusive world, and she was comfortable there. She didn't know how long she could live that way, but she'd drag it out until she had to change things.
pιzza ғor тwo [or ѕo] ✗ nιall + elιѕe
Oh, being downwind of him—that was brave and Niall took note of it. He quietly made his entrance into the room, quite lost without someone to follow, he had quickly became a puppy to her heels in the past half hour. When she requested he sit on the bed, he gave her a soft nod, sniffling, still, to try and stop the blood, and his tail swished calmly. Niall directed himself around the room very calmly and slowly, not wanting to speed up the moment because of the pain it may come with, but also because he didn’t want this moment to go away. He wanted to cherish it forever, even if his nose was bleeding, and he was aching, and he wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for a week.
"Yuh gots somethin’ that will help?"
Niall was comforted by the situation, and almost felt a little better from the reassurance that someone was taking care of him. He could’ve wrapped his arms around her and half of him would be cured. Not only his mind, but his bruised, beaten body had to understand that it would be okay. He had accepted that Elise was his friend, but it hadn’t clicked in that having her in his life would make it a whole lot easier than it was before. Ah, to cuddle her, to brush against her neck, to feel her breath against his skin, to hold her petite frame in his arms.
It was certainly the stuff of dreams. His tail thumped off of the bed and he brushed a hand against his face, grimacing at the messy texture. How bad did he look?
"I should, yeah." She wasn't sure how much it would help, but it would definitely be better than nothing. A first aid kit didn't seem like it was up to Niall's current standards, really - not unless she had an industrial sized, hospital-official version. Which, she didn't. Obviously. She pulled out the top drawer to her dresser and laid eyes on the first aid kit, thankful that it was indeed there. --She wasn't sure why it wouldn't be, but it was still a relief to finally have it and be able to make use of it. Pulling it out and walking over to Niall, she placed it on the bed beside him and sat down on the floor. She'd start at his knees.
She sat there for a moment, not really sure of where to go from here. Well, she knew what she had to do, she wasn't sure how to go about actually doing it. It wasn't every day she patched boys up in her bedroom. With a tentative gaze up at him, almost as if she was asking for permission, she began rolling up his pant legs so they left everything from his knees to his ankles bare.
Reaching back to the first aid kit, Elise picked out a few disinfecting wipes and tore open the first one with surprising ease - she'd done this before. "This is going to sting a little," she warned him, eyeing the cuts on his knees and knowing that it might be more than a little, but thinking that if he could handle those bullies, he could handle this. This time, she looked up at him as she dabbed the alcohol wipe against his knee, as gentle as butterfly wings at first while she waited to see how he would react.
There was nothing quite as satisfying as the jagged edge of a knife cutting through tendons and the musculature of a vampire’s neck.
{ the devil’s minions were mere play-things. it was an enticing thought to make a fool of the horned —G O D. }
It was with ease and precise flick of his wrist that Dean wedged his machete through thick, viscous tissue and out the other side in a clean cleave. Snapping it’s jaws and snarling listlessly at the hunter, Dean finished it off before it could do much more than pathetically open and close it’s mouth like some plastic children’s toy.
— —However, in his momentous victory, he hadn’t noticed the ruckus that had derived. The sounds & the carnage spilled were of typical routine for him. But a bystander would see nothing more than a murder in progress.
This became obvious when Dean stepped from the shaft of shadows, fingers flexing around the blade’s handle, mug flecked with blood, and eyes hungry and terse with the residual aftereffect of expunging yet another monster from the earth. To an outsider, he looked like the dark antagonist of a horror film, and within moments he registered the stark fear across a nurse’s face, eyes panning from top to bottom and rendering her own theory of what he’d just done.
{ a beat. silence seemed to carry a cacophony of mental communications. }
❝Wh— - WAIT ! Lady hold on, it’s not— -this isn’t— it’s not what it looks like I swere ; —just let me…explain ! ❞
"Oh, my--" her words were cut off by a hand flying over her mouth to silence her words - it was her own, though it felt distant and unfamiliar. Like it wasn't connected to her body, and it shocked her even further. The figure that emerged from the alley looked like something straight out of her nightmares, and it was all she could do to simply keep breathing.
Everything in her told her to run or to hide or to take out her goddamn phone and call the police, but the only thing that registered with her were the man's words. It's not what it looks like.
It wasn't rare that Elise's naivety got in the way of any good judgement, and she never judged people without giving them a chance beforehand, but... This had to be a reasonable situation to make an exception to that rule, right? Fearing for her life seemed like a better reason than any other she'd come across.
"I-I'm calling the police," she announced. How stupid of her. Giving the man a warning wasn't exactly a sure-fire way to ensure success in her endeavour. No less, she reached for her pocket --and found that her phone wasn't there. Fuck. She must have left it in her purse, which she'd left at the hospital. She hadn't expected to be gone for long, so she didn't assume she'd have any need for it.
After a moment of staring down at her hand placed inside her empty pocket, she raised her eyes to look back to the ominous figure and spoke out in a timid voice. "If you let me go, I won't tell anyone. I-I promise."
I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,
I’m sorry that I survived,
And if I could go back in time
You never would have died
“You’re very cleaver. Actually… That would be wonderful. And completely not weird at all.”
"Thank you, I think. All right then. I hope I don't end up regretting this."
“You do have a shitty attitude. See? I’m honest, too. You’re obviously going through… something. Can I guess? You found out your boyfriend was a douchebag. He probably was. He’s the reason you’re pissed.”
"First of all, I'm allowed to just be pissed off. I don't need a reason. Second of all... Yeah, actually. --How'd you know?" Lies. It's easier to go along with it, though.
LETS PLAY THE “TYPE THESE WORDS IN YOU R TAG BOX AND POST THE FIRST AUTOMATIC TAG THAT COMES UP” GAME: DIRTY WORD ADDITION OK
fuck
shit
dick
no
hell
sex
damn
”Wow. You’re great. You’re absolutely wonderful. I bet everyone loves your compassionate nature. No. I don’t want to leave. I want to know the reason behind your shitty attitude.”
"Look, I don't have a shitty attitude, okay? I'm just being honest with you, which is more than what I'm guessing anybody else will do."
” — — fine. One drink. That’s it. Then you have to leave - it’s not even technically legal for me to serve alcohol at this hour.”
"Yeah, well at least I'm givin' ya some business. A little optimism never hurt nobody."
