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#heart racing
androidboy · 2 years
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yo some old man just clapped in my face and said “goddammit take off that mask man you’re ok”
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glossykris · 8 months
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ive fallen in love :((((( this new picture is too much for me :((((( never seen a more beautiful guy :(((((
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purplesoulsapphire · 2 months
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If you could choose Anyone From One Piece
Who Would You Want For Your Valentine 💌
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For me It would be either Sweet Fiery Ace 🔥 or Caring Simp Sanji 😘
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Resharing from Twitter.
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sweaty-betty · 3 months
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Umm mcscuse me!? Hello? I'm not ok!
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ickadori · 5 months
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i wanna get stuck in an elevator with wrio
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gentle-author · 4 months
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Heart racing
They make my heart race.
Race from fear and love
Race from act and thought
Race in uncontrollable velocity
Keeping it sane in this world of insanity
Damn, they leave me speechless each time
Are they so valuable or am I just kind?
So sad they make me stay
When I've always been meant for leaving
Saying a word, or maybe two
Saving a vein from eruption
Dark times, is that so?
Shush, I can't say no more
My heart races cause I can't do this no more
Is it strange yet, or not?
I love, hard, I love
For once, it's not only myself anymore
My heart's racing
I can't breathe
My thoughts demand some more
Velocity's out of context
I can't control
Damn, I love
I do, I do, I do
And because of that
My heart's been racing for so long.
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uuuhshiny · 1 year
Photo
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Russell Crowe in the Beautiful Mind
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helloitstsyu · 1 year
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oh my DADDY❤️‍🔥🥵
Creds
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drabbles-mc · 1 year
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More To Say
Javier Peña & GN!Reader
For Day 25 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: heart racing / on the run
Warnings: 18+, language, light angst?, mentions of guns etc., typical canon things
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: How this fic ended up being almost 3k, I truly do not know. I also don't know what's happening here but it sure is...something. Idk what was going on in my brain to create this but it's out there now.
Narcos Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @southotheborder @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @passionatewrites @artemiseamoon @narcolini @hausofmamadas (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
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You had almost made it to the stairs that went up the outside of your building when the shooting started. There was a scream lodged somewhere in your throat, not coming out, not allowing you to suck more air in. You wondered how far you could run without breathing, wondered if it was even going to matter or if someone was going to shoot you before it even became a real problem.
Your feet managed to carry you down the stairs without causing you to trip and fall face first into them. It felt like each part of your body was moving independently from the others, and your brain wasn’t keeping tabs on any of them.
The screams and the gunshots were ringing through your head, slowly traveling in one ear, across every facet of your brain, before they finally made it out the other side. It was deafening, almost enough to bring you to your knees if your body had been working as one cohesive unit rather than a marionette doll that had different people pulling on each string.
You all but flung yourself around the corner into the alley between your building and the one next to it. The thin strip of land that acted as a walkway for the locals that lived here, the dirt path that you were sure had grass covering it at one point before everyone had moved in, gave you a clear-cut escape route. If someone started coming down from the other end, you’d be fucked, but it was your only option at this point. It wasn’t as though you were going to head back towards the gunfire.
It took a few seconds longer than you cared for, but you finally got your feet and legs to start moving. A couple strides at a swift walk, but soon enough you were breaking into a run as you raced down the makeshift alley. Your heart thundered against your chest, and even though you were pumping your legs as quickly as you could, you knew that your rapid heartbeat had more to do with the fear coursing through you, the feeling that the gunshots were getting closer even though you were getting away.
The walkway hadn’t ever felt so long in all of your other trips to and from your apartment. Twice a day, almost every day, you tackled it at a leisurely pace, and you seemed to get from one end to the other in no time at all. But now, as you were doing your best to sprint for all you were worth, it felt like the end of it kept receding with each step you took, like no matter how fast you ran, you were never going to catch up.
Then, finally, you did. Like a car taking a turn just a bit too fast, you felt like you were skidding on the dirt beneath you as you swerved around the turn, trying to stay as close to the wall as possible while you did. Fingers of your one hand gripped the corner of the building, hoping that it would provide you with just enough stability so that you wouldn’t fall over.
Your eyes were cast down at the ground, trying to make sure that your feet didn’t get caught over each other in the process of your mad dash. You’d been paying so little attention to anything around you that you were caught completely off-guard when you slammed into something, someone, that sent you stumbling back a few steps.
Still unable to let out the scream that had been trying to fight it’s way out of your throat, you were almost silent as you fell backwards. The surprises didn’t stop there, though, as whoever it was that had run into you, or you ran into them, reached out and grabbed onto your arm, keeping you from completely hitting the ground.
Javi was just as surprised as you were. He was dripping sweat, gun clutched in the hand that hadn’t just saved you from smacking your head off the ground. The second you were stable and upright, he let you go. Both of you stood, like you were frozen trying to figure out what to say or do about the other.
The panic on your face, the fear in your eyes, let Javi know that you weren’t the threat that he was after. Your whole body was practically shaking. You kept looking back and forth between his face and the gun in his hand. While you knew that you were trying to run away because you didn’t want to get caught up in the middle of a mess that you weren’t a part of, the thought crossed your mind that whoever this man was could easily think that you were on the run trying to escape being brought in by him, or one of the other officers you were sure were storming your entire neighborhood at this point.
You tried to get the words out, tried to tell him that you just wanted to get away so that you would be safe enough, alive enough, to make it back to your apartment later to see if any damage had been done to it. You just wanted to make it through this. You couldn’t manage to say any of that to him.
“You should go,” he finally cut through the silence. It’d only been a couple seconds, but given the circumstances, it may as well have been an eternity.
You nodded, trying to get your legs to work once more, but you couldn’t. It was like you’d stopped for just a few seconds too long, and now your feet were rooted into the ground. Your breathing became erratic, heart pounding hard enough to make you wonder if it was going to burst inside your chest.
“Go!” he snapped, voice harsher this time.
The reality hit you that you were wasting his time as well as your own. You were just trying to get away. This man, whoever he was, was actually trying to get to the fight. Your goal and his couldn’t have been more opposite. Despite the differences, your freezing up was making it so that neither of you could achieve your own personal endgames.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he stepped so that he was standing right next to you.
You thought that he was just going to keep going, brush past you so that he could get to wherever he needed to go. His shoulder bumped against yours for a moment and you thought that that was going to be the end of it, the first and hopefully last time you ever saw him. Then you felt his hand pressing into your back, fingertips pushing harshly right between your shoulder blades. He pushed, not hard enough to topple you over, but enough to get your feet moving one in front of the other.
“You need to keep running,” he said, the slight strain of his voice giving away how out of breath he still was.
He was right, of course. All of the reasons you’d taken off in the first place were still very much in play. You nodded, trying to keep up the momentum that he’d given you with his push, but it felt like you were trying to drag your feet through wet cement as you moved.
You didn’t bother to turn and look over your shoulder. Whether he was still there or not wasn’t going to do you any good. All you had to worry about was pushing forward. So you tried, one heavy footstep in front of the other you waited for your pace to pick up the same way that it had before.
All of the sprinting had apparently been knocked out of you when you collided with the man who had been a few seconds from having a gun pointed in your face. Still, though, you managed to start going a little faster. You carried yourself down the path that ran along the backs of the other buildings on your street. You didn’t know when you were going to stop, where you would be when you finally decided that you’d gone far enough. Wherever it was, you hadn’t gotten there yet.
Finally, you couldn’t hear the gunshots anymore. You didn’t know if it was because you’d gone that far, or because the shooting had finally stopped. The answer to that didn’t really matter. All that mattered, was that you finally felt like you could give your legs a rest.
You’d passed by one building after another that looked a lot like yours, each of them with a little pathway between them just like the one beside the building that you lived in. Some were partially blocked off, people leaving things behind, and creating barriers where there didn’t use to be any. You managed to stop at the end of one that had just that kind of makeshift blockade.
After what felt like too long, you let your feet slow back down to a walk on purpose, you stepped into the alleyway, slumping back against the wall of the building behind you. There was something comforting about the fact that someone was only going to be coming from one direction, if they were going to show up at all. You had to figure that by this point, everyone was either inside, or long gone. It must’ve been safe now. Or, at least, as safe as it was ever going to be.
You didn’t know how long you sat there. It couldn’t have been too long, you reasoned. It wasn’t long enough for the usual noises of the neighborhood to pick back up. As you brought yourself back up to your feet, you could feel the lingering tremble of exertion in your legs. Taking a deep breath, you started the task of putting one foot in front of the other once more.
When you reached the end of the alley, the question became whether you should just head back home, see what damage was or wasn’t caused to your place, or if you should just continue on your way and head to town. That’d been your original plan for the afternoon when you had stepped out your front door anyhow—run to town to grab some groceries, maybe takeout so you wouldn’t have to cook dinner for yourself. However you hadn’t expected the run part of running to town to be quiet so literal at first.
Taking a deep breath, you turned and started to head towards town. There was no point in going back to your place empty-handed after all of this. Maybe the extra time out and about would rid your body of the last of its shakes that were still clinging to you.
You had your bag of groceries slung over your shoulder as you waited in line to place your dinner order to take home. There was still a slight tremble in your hands, but no one else would notice it if they didn’t know to look for it. At this point you were thinking it was just as much from hunger as it was from everything else.
It was interesting, almost comforting in a way, to see everyone going about their business like it was a completely normal day. For most of these people, it probably was. Chaos and gunfire off in the distance wasn’t a city-wide disturbance anymore. If it was far enough away, no one allowed it to interrupt their routines. You’d been the same way—up until today trouble had never knocked quite so literally at your front door.
Your gaze was cast down to the floor, just listening to the music and the conversations happening around you as you stood in line. There was a couple in front of you talking about what they were going to get for their room in their new place, playfully debating who got decorating rights. The family sitting at the table to the side of you was talking to their kids about their days at school. It was all peaceful, lovely. Or it would’ve been if your brain wasn’t still partially latched on to the sounds of bullets whizzing too close to your head for comfort.
You tried to focus on the conversations around you again, eavesdrop for the sake of your own sanity rather than the nosiness and curiosity that normally fueled it. You were gripping tighter onto the strap to the bag that held your groceries as you tried to dial into all of it.
You’d been so focused on distracting yourself, that you missed the sound of footsteps coming up behind you. Another person waiting in line for the same thing that you were. Your jaw was clenched tight as you forced yourself to focus on the present.
“Hey,” the person behind you spoke up to get your attention.
Your head snapped up, assuming that they were saying something to you because the line had moved and you hadn’t. But things were still at a standstill. Turning to look over your shoulder, you checked to see who was talking to you. Your eyes grew wide when you saw the same man from earlier now standing behind you. He, like you, hadn’t bothered or had the time to change out of the clothes he’d been madly dashing around in before.
You turned around, facing him a little more directly. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, not having expected to see him ever again, certainly not under these circumstances. “H-hi.” It was more than you’d managed to say to him before.
Even though Javi was the one who had initiated the interaction, he didn’t know where to go from here. He felt like he’d just thrown another wrench into your day that already had gone so far off the rails. He couldn’t just insert himself back into your life like that and not provide you with any kind of follow-up, though.
He looked you up and down, like he was trying to make sure you were still in one piece. “You’re alright?”
You shrugged, giving a tiny nod. “Yea. I…yea. As I can be, I guess.”
He nodded. “Good.” There was a pause that was just long enough to make it awkward before he said, “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You hadn’t been expecting it. He didn’t really have anything to apologize for. None of the mess had been his fault, really. Still, you gave another shrug and said, “It’s okay.”
There was something about the look on his face that told you he had no better clue as to how to handle the situation than you did. You had to think that it wasn’t often he really ran into the same people twice like this, not when the circumstances were like the ones that you’d been in.
“There anything I can…?” he trailed off, but you knew where the question was going.
Despite the exhaustion that had slowly been taking over you one limb at a time, despite the utter chaos and panic of the day, the ends of your mouth lifted just the tiniest bit in an effort to smile. It didn’t quite happen, but the effort was there, and given the state of everything that was the best you could do.
“No,” your voice was soft, tired as you said it. It was a short answer, but there really wasn’t anything more to say.
The line had moved up a bit, the two of you moving with it without having realized it. Just going through the motions after a day filled with anything but. There was a lingering sense that one of you was supposed to say more, do more, but there wasn’t anything more to be said or done. And yet.
Javi’s hand dragged over his mustache, down to his chin before letting it drop back down to his side. He was about to say something else, try to pull some other question or conversation topic out of the air when another man materialized behind him, clapping him on the shoulder.
“We gotta go, Jav.”
He startled for a moment, peeling his gaze away from you and putting it onto the man who had appeared behind him. “What?”
He took his hand from Javi’s shoulder, gesturing towards the door. “Colonel called—Search Bloc got a hit. We gotta go.”
He nodded. “Right, yea.” He watched as the other man took a step back towards the door before turning back to you.
He didn’t know why he felt like he should be saying some kind of a goodbye to you, but he did—he just didn’t know how to say it. You could see him try to figure it, try to spit it out, but in the end, he just gave you a small nod before turning and heading out. You watched him go, disappearing out onto the street and meeting up with the rest of the men that were out there. They were all fast movements and aggressive gestures as they got ready to go to wherever the next pocket of chaos was erupting.
You watched, completely tuned in until the young woman behind the counter spoke loud enough to get your attention to let you know it was on you to order next. Then you were both right back to it, each of you chalking it all up to a bad day, a strange one, pocketed in the middle of everything else.
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whump-about-it · 1 year
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Heart Racing/ On the Run/ “We’re Being Watched”/ “I Won’t Leave You”
@whumpril day 25 and 26 (a little late)
CW: implied torture, imprisonment, blood, broken bones, gunshot wounds, blood loss. 
They had made a mistake putting two prisoners who spoke the same language in a cell together.
To be fair, the guards hadn’t known. It wasn’t like the languages a person spoke was listed on their papers. And it wasn’t the official language of either the country they were from nor the one they’d been captured in. A and B hadn’t even realized the other spoke it until A overheard B slip into it during a particularly rough interrogation session several months into their internment together.
The escape planning had begun as soon as B had become lucid again.
It had been months of the two of them whispering in low voices between the patrol rounds. At night, when the guards were half asleep on duty and didn't notice the incomprehensible jabber as conversation. And under the cover of other prisoners screams.
They thought they had planned for everything. But as soon as their escape had begun things had started to go awry.
They had gotten out. By some miracle they had gotten out. But now they were on the run through an unfamiliar town in enemy territory in the middle of the night, with guards at their heels, and A was falling behind.
"This way" B hissed before taking a hard left into a particularly dark ally. They had grabbed A's hand at some point to make sure they kept up, so the direction wasn't strictly necessary, but A was stumbling so much as it was B was afraid the sudden change in direction would cause them to face plant in the street.
B turned them into the ally and used their momentum to propel A into the wall behind a stack of crates. To A's credit, they didn't make a noise, but B could see their face contort in pain and feel the air leave their lungs as they pushed their own body against theirs trying to make it appear to anyone who may actually notice them there as though they were out of breathe for completely different reasons.
A either understood what B was trying to do, or they were worse off than B thought because as soon as A pressed their body to theirs they snaked their good arm around B’s shoulders and placed a not insignificant amount of their weight on B.
A tried to pull them closer as best they could with their own good arm. Their other one had been broken, they suspected in multiple places, when they fell from the window during the escape. Their forearm was completely swollen and they could feel their heart racing in it. Adrenaline had dulled most of the pain for now, as it had for their ankle, which was at the very least twisted if not also broken, but with their arm sandwiched between their and A’s heaving torso’s they couldn’t help but let out a silent gasp of pain.
“Are you alright?” A breathed in B’s ear.
“My arm” B breathed back. “You?”
A only shook their head and tightened their grip around B’s shoulders. Back on the street the guards ran past shouting directions to one another, unaware of the pretend lovers pulling each other closer in the ally only feet away.
The back of A’s shirt was soaked in blood. As B squeezed the fabric, blood dripped into their hand and ran down their wrist. A had been shot in the shoulder during the escape. The bullet had missed all their vital organs and A had insisted they would be okay. But now, sandwiched between B and the wall, B could feel how much blood they were loosing, How much their legs were shaking trying to stay upright, and the irregular beating of their racing heart. Even for having been running it felt like it was beating too fast. 
The voices of the guards faded down some other side street one of them had insisted they’d seen their prey going down and B made to pull away from A to figure out their next move. Before they could move more than a centimeter though A tightened their grip on B’s shoulders and held them in place. 
“We’re being watched.” They breathed. B heart skipped a beat and glanced at the dark street. It seemed empty of even the rats. The depths of the ally was so dark B couldn’t make out anything to tell if A was seeing things or not. 
“Where?” They shifted their weight to take on more of A’s as one of their legs began to shake more. 
“The second story window” A mumbled. B held their possession and tried to glance at the windows in the ally. One of the windows was open a crack, and the curtains swayed in the breeze, but B couldn’t make out whether anyone was standing there. 
“They’re going to come back and start checking alleys soon” B told A. They were concerned by A seeing something they clearly couldn’t, but were trying to give them the benefit of the doubt and continued to hold their position. “We have to move.”
A shook their head again. 
“I don’t think I can” They whispered. “Everything’s spinning”  
B’s still racing heart began to beat faster. Between their arm and their ankle they didn’t think they could carry A. The adrenaline was already starting to wear off and their previously only uncomfortable ankle was beginning to feel like it would shatter if B moved it in the wrong way. 
“Just hang in there a little longer. We’ll find a place to hide.” 
Again, A shook their head and swallowed thickly. They slipped an inch farther down the wall and gasped raggedly as the movement aggravated their wound. 
“Leave me” they whispered. Their voice was already getting weaker. “I’ll slow you down.” 
“No. If they catch you they’ll kill you.” 
“I’m not sure I’m going make it as is” With that A’s legs finally gave out. B tried to catch them but their own injuries prevented them from being able to do much and the two collapsed to the ground with muffled groans of pain. With their rouse of being intimate shattered, B leaned away from A enough to look at their sweaty face. Their skin almost glowed from how colorless it was and their eyes didn’t look totally focused. 
B’s stomach flipped. The two of them hadn’t been friends. They hadn’t even known each other prior to being forced to share a tiny windowless cell. But at this point A was the only friendly face B knew. Probably the only person who even knew they were alive. They’d spent months planning this, gone through every eventuality. They had thought of everything. But they had always planned on doing it together. Now at the eleventh hour, with everything having gone wrong, B found they couldn’t abandon that. 
“I won’t leave you” B told A with as much conviction as they could manage in a whisper. 
B tried to smile and their eyes slid closed. 
“We knew the risks” Their voice was beginning to slur “At least one of us should get away.” 
B opened their mouth to argue. However before they could say anything, a door somewhere in the alley squealed open and a face, dimly lit by a single candle poked out. B’s heart stopped. A had been right all along, someone had been watching them. They should have taken them seriously and done something about it when they had the chance. Now they were caught and they had no weapons. Nothing to fight with. And they were too injured themselves do anything even if they did. They thought for a second that it was finally over. The person in the door way was going to alert the guards and A and B were going to be dragged back and executed. 
But when the person spoke, it was in a low whisper, and in the same language A and B shared.  
“You’re friend needs help” They said. It wasn’t a question. “Come. The guards will be back any minute.” 
B blinked at the person, then glanced at A who had gone motionless and limp between them and the wall. They could still feel their heart racing in their chest. It was beating too fast for how long they had been standing still. 
“I’m a friend.” The person insisted. “Come.”  
Even with a shared language, B wasn’t sure they could trust the person. But with A passed out, and the voices of the guards become louder in the distance, They were running out of options. 
“I can’t lift them.” They told the person in the doorway. Without question the stranger stepped from their doorway and into the alley. B, stumbled backwards as the stranger approached them. They lifted A into their arms as though they weighed nothing and turned to B. 
“Can you stand?” 
B nodded, and managed to get to their feet. Pain shot up their ankle in protest to them putting weight on it and they almost fell down again, but managed to limp after the stranger as they carried A back into the building they had come from. 
“Why are you helping us?” B asked once they were inside what appeared to be the storage room for a shop. 
“I heard the two of you talking” the stranger said. “I haven’t heard anyone speak my mother tongue in years. They don’t like it when people speak languages other than their own.” The stranger nodded towards the ever louder voices outside as they laid A down gently on a table, trying to identify the source of all the blood. “We help our own right?” 
B nodded somewhat absently. Their arm and ankle were hurting so badly, and A was looking only minutes from death on the table. The stranger seemed to know what they were doing though as they produced a pair of scissors and cut off A’s shirt. 
“Thank you” B breathed. 
“Of course. You can call me Caretaker, by the way.” 
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afza147 · 3 months
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Maboroshi (3)
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First kiss😍
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em-writes-stuff · 1 year
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Heart racing + on the run
@whumpril day 25
Warnings: escaped whumpee, young whumpee (implied)
Whumpee, caretaker, whumper
692 words
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Whumpee ducks behind a truck, crouching with his knees to his chest and his hand wrapped tightly around his dagger. He closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, his free hand presses over his heart.
Whumper’s car crawls past the truck, headlights shining down the street. The car comes to a stop and Whumpee deflates, making himself smaller and clinging to the side of the truck. For a moment, he thinks about making a run for it, but there was no way Whumper wouldn’t see him.
The car speeds up again, disappearing around the corner and Whumpee laughs in relief. He peels away from the car and stares up at the moon and stars, letting the wind blow through his tangled hair and bite through his clothes.
He rubs a hand over his face and looks around. Closest to him, a bar is pulsing with activity and across the street, there’s a small diner with a few customers scattered around. He sighs and crosses the street, constantly looking over his shoulder.
He pushes into the diner, feet shuffling to a booth in the corner and sits down. Everyone in the place looks at him, their eyes burning into his skin, making him itchy. He rolls his shoulders and pulls his knees up to his chest, tucking a hand into his hoodie pocket and keeping the other firmly grasped on his dagger.
The cashier hangs the phone back on the receiver and walks over to his booth, sitting across from Whumpee. “Can I get you anything, hun?” Whumpee stares through her, barely registering her existence. She tilts her head close to the table and he focuses on her.
“What?”
She smiles faintly and repeats herself, “Can I get you anything?”
He shakes his head, curling into himself more, “No, thank you. I don’t have any money.”
She looks him over and leans back, “On the house.”
One of the nearby customers makes a sound of protest, but she shuts it down with one glare over her shoulder. Whumpee uncurls slightly and looks at the menu on the wall, then shakes his head again.
She sighs and scoots out of the booth. She walks back up to the counter and reaches over it, grabbing a pot of coffee and a mug.
Whumpee watches as she pours it and sets it down in front of him, but he doesn’t drink any. Mesmerized by the steam, he relaxes even more and loosens his grip on his dagger.
The cashier smiles at a new customer and Whumpee tenses when he hears the voice.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” He says, nodding to her sweetly, “Have you seen a boy, about this tall-” he holds his hand just below his shoulder “-he’s my sister’s kid and staying with me while she’s in the hospital. We don’t get along too good and he ran off, so I’ve been driving around past few hours looking for him.”
Whumpee ducks under the table, knuckles turning white around the dagger, he stares at her and she stares back, smiling gently. “I’m sorry, sir,” she says, leaning against the counter, “I haven’t seen any boy-not this late at least. If you give me your number, I’ll be sure to give you a call if I see anything though.”
Whumper sighs and runs a hand over his hair to smooth it, “No, no, that’s alright. Thank you, ma’am. I’m sure I’ll manage. Sorry for botherin’ you.”
“Not at all,” she said, smoothing her apron.
He nods to her again and turns out of the diner, sighing loudly just before it shuts.
Whumpee waits for his car to drive away before coming back up to the booth, he wraps his arms around his knees and rests his chin on his shoulder, looking around the diner.
The cashier sits back across from him and tilts her head again, “Ok, kid. I’m not gonna ask you what’s going on but do you need anything?”
Shaking his head, he forces a smile, “I’m alright. I just need to sit here for a little while, if that’s alright?”
She sighs and nods, pushing the coffee mug closer to him.
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euesworld · 10 months
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"Boom, boom like a boom box.. my heart goes boom, boom every time that you walk in the room and talk. All I can do is fall for you as I gawk, all for you, truth, the sky sprawls for you so blue and I can do nothing but get harder than a rock.. just stop!! You are far too hot, like a star in the dark that produces rain drops.. to fall and fall like my heart as you seduce my sweet spots like Cinderella at the ball, I'm hella falling and if I can't love you I won't love at all. Boom, boom goes my heart racing tunes.. I'm doomed to love you, won't you come to my room?"
I might like you a little bit.. I would like you a lot more if you were here.. let me make you a beat with my sweet little heart shaped boom box - eUë
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quietyearning · 1 year
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Crushing on someone is like catching feelings in a tornado. Heart races, palms sweat, and cheeks blush. The thrill of the unknown, the sweetest torture. One word: butterflies.
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silentscroll · 11 days
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With each palpitating pulse, numbness reigns
Ground beneath a foreign land, estranged
Blood spills, a tale untold upon the floor
Burns, a scalding sign, life's whispered lore.
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sadghostgirl14 · 8 months
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