i'm still a bit sick though

  • Priest: So who have you got on the outside? A boyfriend, from what I hear?
  • Aaron: Is this the bit where the kind priest makes friends with the nasty inmate?
  • Priest: Kind? I've not even offered you a biscuit yet. But, yeah, sometimes this is where friendships form, within accepted parameters. Other times, someone acts how you're being now, then it gets tedious.
  • Aaron: Well, come on. Let's get on with it. Pat me on the head and give me some rosary beads and tell me it's all gonna be all right.
  • Priest: I never tell anyone it's gonna be all right. I hope it will, but I can't see the future.
  • Aaron: My mim and my little sister... on the outside. A few mates.
  • Priest: What's your boyfriend's name?
  • Aaron: Robert.
  • Priest: And how's he doing with all this?
  • Aaron: Fine, I guess.
  • Priest: He doesn't have Jason to contend with, I suppose.
  • Aaron: I can handle him.
  • Priest: You're doing a good impression of someone who can't, if you don't mind me saying.
  • Aaron: Well, actually I do mind you saying, yeah, because you know nothing. You flounce round here with your 'Bless you, child.' You met me an hour ago and you've only just scraped the first millimetre of the tip of an iceberg you can't even imagine the size of.
  • Priest: Oh! Poor baby's had it hard, has he? Did your mum used to hit you? Did she start before you can even rememberand hit you every day and tell you you're useless and you'd made your dad run off and you'd ruined her lif? And did you dread going home from school because you knew there'd be something new you'd done that gave her another excuse? And did she put you in the hospital when you were ten and tell the nurses you'd been in a fight because were an evil little git? And did you push it all down because it's wrong to hit girls? But then, one time, after years, when she came at you with a 6"stiletto, did you put her on her backside with a broken nose and end up in a young offenders' instiitute? Or was that me? We've all lived a life that's brought us to this point... and we all think our stories make us special. They don't.
  • Aaron: And did she rape you, your mum?
  • Priest: No, she didn't your dad did. So what? I could go out on the balcony and spit on half a dozen people who've been through the same. Be a bit harsh, though.
  • Aaron: I'm just sick of being this person.
  • Priest: Hard luck. You're all you've got.
  • Aaron: You know he actually said something that makes sense. Jason. He said that I, erm... He said I could change my name, but it doesn't change who I am.
  • Priest: He's right. You're always gonna be Gordon's son, but it doesn't have to define you. Be proud of it.
  • Aaron: Proud?
  • Priest: You're the son of a man who repeatedly abused you, but you've still made something of your life. I mean, obviously right now, you're in prison for assault. You're a thug, no offence. I'm talking about the future, if that's the one you decide for yourself.
  • Aaron: Yeah, cos it's that eaysy.
  • Priest: Well, it's easy to try. You remind me of Jason, you know. Not the waste of life you know. No, the Jason of five or six years ago, on his first time around. Broody little thing, had his issues, but had a bit of spark as well. Some decency. He was havong a rough time with the prison hards and he was missing home. Him and his girlfriend had just had a baby. Trying to front it all out. I said 'You can't. You need to talk to her, to someone.' He wasn't having that. Too proud. Said he'd sort it himself. Proved me wrong, I suppose.
  • Aaron: Good for him.
  • Priest: Oh, yeah. Girlfriend moved to new Zealand. He'll never see the kid. Probably spend moft of his life on here, or somewhere like it.
  • Aaron: And I'm supposed to feel sorry for him?
  • Priest: I want you to look at him and then at yourself and see if you see a difference. There is one, but it'll get smaller. And if you bottle all your problems up and deal with them how he did, when you leave here, you'll be going back to your boyfriend, your sister and your mum, another loser who the system spat out. Is that who you wanna be?
  • Aaron: No.
  • Priest: Then tell the people who matter to you what you're going through. It'll help.

fireworks-boom  asked:

Hello. I'm a bit sick and can't watch the total eclipse today. Can I have some sick headcanons with the proxies?

Toby is the guy who is always sick and infecting others. He usually is forced to be alone since no one wants to take care of him or get infected themselves. Even though he is sick he is still very active. They lock him in his room to make sure he doesnt spread it. 


Masky is the guy that gets hit hard. He cant get out of bed and hoodie has to play nurse. Masky wants to be pissed but he does not have the energy to. He spends all day in bed for about a week. He also has to be watched since he might overdo it once he gets back out there.


Hoodie is the guy no one thinks gets sick. He gets a slight cold but he easily hides it and takes care of it in the early stages.

Cough || Closed @sugarrushwrecker

The house was quiet… 

Ever since they had returned from the castle the house had been this way; quiet, still, almost as if no one actually lived here. That was further from the truth seeing as it was currently filled with every one of its residents, including its newest member. A rather large, pink sloth-like creature Sparkler had called a Slakoth, and had given Chase shortly after they’d come home. However, other then the faint sound of someone trying to discretely rummage through the kitchen, the house remained almost as quiet and seemingly empty as it had been while they were gone.

The reason why was simple, it was because of what had happened at the castle.. Because of Sparkler…

The moment they had returned home, she had done exactly what she had told him she had wanted to do, which was to lay down on her couch. However since then the virus had only moved from that spot to occasionally leave the house for hours, then return to her couch without explanation. Allowing the world to pass her by as she seemed to ignore the boy, while wallowing away in her own state of misery. 

At first, Chase had told himself not to bother her. That she needed some time to herself, and that eventually she would bounce back like she always did. So he left her alone, hoping as he watched from the sidelines for her to get up and give him a sign. Something to tell him what to do, how to cheer up the person who’d always cheered him up. He knew all of her likes and interests, but with all that had happened.. he was afraid. Afraid and worried that whatever he did wouldn’t make a difference, or would make things only worse…

Soon it became a routine of worrying, watching, and waiting. Every morning he would get up, feed and take care of himself and their animal companions, and wait for anything, even for the slightest shift in his sister. Everyday became the same… until the morning Chase couldn’t pull himself out of his bed…

A soft, noiseless moan passed through Chase’s dry, cracked lips as he dragged his head over his pillow, and stared at the door. He licked his lips, as he dragged his arm laboriously across his chest. Feeling as if he had exercised for hours, as he reached for the toilet paper roll Speedy had thankfully delivered. Then clumsily tore off a section before he dragged it across his pink nose, and dropped it to the side as he roughly coughed without making a sound. Shivering beneath the thick covers on his bed, despite the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

Only one word could describe how he felt right now… Awful.

Only one desire floated through his hazy, fever riddled mind… Medicine.

Only one thing he could remember about what he was supposed to be doing… Sparkler… Though what about her he was supposed to remember was currently lost in the illness swimming through his head, he still faintly hoped that soon she would walk through his door with a joke and a smile. Ready to take all the worry and pain away, and help him feel better like she always did…

As time and time passed he hoped… though nobody in the quiet house came… 

Hey, Just a Reminder

You all are great. I know it’s been a while and things have calmed down a bit in this fandom (though Winona has caused quite a stir!), but you’re all still wonderful people. I hope you never forget that.

Things I may or may not have:

  • strep throat

Things I definitely have:

  • an ear infection
  • a fever
  • aches and pains
  • antibiotics
  • saltines
  • chicken soup for later
  • throat spray
  • throat lozenges
  • lots of water
  • vitamin water for when i want to shake it up a bit
  • complete solitude and quiet
  • a very very comfy bed with comfy pillows
  • pajamas on
  • tumblr pulled up to enjoy Doc’s liveblog
  • tickets to see Cameron Esposito and Rhea Butcher on Sunday night that I’m becoming increasingly nervous that I won’t get to use but we’ll see.
  • a gigantic skincare delivery coming from sephora today
Reblog if you still have faith in Ohtaka and believe in her ability to finish this story well.

I’m starting to think I’m the only one here admittedly.

lion-hearted-gal  asked:

V, I'm still sick (cold, dying, bleh) so obviously I need your kinky-est Gaara scenario. Please and thank you! <3

If you’re still sick, go to the damn doc because this took me forever. Let some sexy times in Suna warm you up, though. (Also maybe I got a little too emotional writing this– let me live.) ~V

(Content warning: consensual manipulation/a lil’ bit of emotional sadism)

Originally posted by karurah

“No one will ever love you like I do,” You felt the muscles across your chest and ribs contract, fighting for a breath. “I won’t let them. I won’t ever let you leave.”

You felt the roughness of Gaara’s sand wrapping around and around your neck and across your shoulders. It covered your nose and mouth—before your lungs had depleted themselves, you could almost smell the faint tang of blood. Gaara undressed while keeping you quite literally breathless. As tunnel vision set in, you noticed how wet you’d gotten. At that moment, the dusty grip relented and you coughed, sucking oxygen back into your bloodstream. The grains of sand had rubbed your lips raw and Gaara’s eerily gentle kisses stung.

***

You had waited all day for Gaara to return. He’d been gone for a week, leaving you (intentionally) alone and awaiting his return. You’d nearly lost track of time, stuck between fear that he’d left you and the aching arousal imagining how you would watch his control shattered the moment he returned to you.

You’d cried when Gaara stepped into your room and lock the door behind him. Faintly, he may have smirked and bit the inside of his cheek upon seeing your tears.

“I thought you’d left.”

“Of course not,” he kissed you, pulling you close. Your heart sang before he broke the kiss and pulled you into a hug, his mouth at your ear. “Who else would bother with you, my broken little girl?”

At this, your heart had twisted, but so had the growing heat in your stomach. Every rational part of you said that you were wrong for loving the way he spoke to you—but you couldn’t help but get wet every time he reminded you that he could see straight through you. Gaara saw the darkest, most unlovable parts of you—and those were the parts he treasured most. The more he tore them out of you with his dangerously low voice and teeth on your throat, the more you embraced them. You ached to belong to Gaara, to let him show you those broken, frightening parts he could never fix.You wanted him to lose his control and you wanted to lose yourself to him.

“No one. I’m all yours.” At this, the atmosphere shifted. Gaara took a handful of your hair in his fist and yanked your head to the side to expose your neck. He sucked and bit at your neck, never letting go of your hair. He pushed you to your knees, nearly expressionless, but there was something steely and demanding behind his eyes. He would ruin you—ruin you until you were nothing but his—and you would thank him for it.

You no longer needed commands. You took Gaara into your mouth, doing your best to push his cock to the back of your throat. What you lacked in the ability to suppress your gag reflex, you made up for in enthusiasm. You wrapped your hand around what you couldn’t fit, and tried desperately do well enough to avoid his rough hands forcing you to swallow him down. Gaara knew what you were doing—he pushed your hand off of his cock and bucked his hips. You gave a muffled cry, though the vibrations would only spur him on. Hair still in his fist, Gaara fucked your throat while looking down at you with those possessive, malicious eyes.

Once you were pulled away from him, you felt yourself gag a little. Thankfully, all that resulted was tears in your eyes and the thick, stringy saliva that only came from having him so far down your throat. You let yourself drool—there was no point in dignity while on your knees for the man you loved.

“On the bed.” His voice was low, perhaps a little growly. You quickly obeyed, and as you stood up you realized how wet your cunt had gotten in anticipation. For before climbing onto the bed you stripped, then laid back with legs spread wide. It seemed that the more vulnerable you felt beneath his gaze, the more exposed, possessed, enraptured, the hotter your skin felt. Gaara wasted no time, showing how much he missed you in his own monstrous way. Without warning or preparation, he was inside of you. You were relieved that you’d gotten so wet just from being on your knees—it would have been far more painful otherwise.

It was then, as Gaara plunged in and out of you with no regard for your moans, that the sand crept up to smother you. After Gaara so softly reassured you that you were his, his, his, and the sand had finally let you breathe, you felt yourself getting tense. Gaara undoubtedly felt it too, and trailed warm fingers down to pinch your clit before harshly rubbing you closer toward the edge.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, ah, yes please, Gaara…” You bit your lip as the sand started tightening again. You looked up, nearly in tears from the intensity.

“If you come for me now, then you’ll always belong to me,” he paused, gasping slightly with a sharp thrust. Your face started to feel swollen from the choking. “You can never go back. Do you want it?”

You tried to answer, but your throat was too tight and you could only squeak out a hoarse “yes.”

Immediately, his cock slammed into you and the sand snapped tighter, both putting stars into your eyes. You opened your mouth in a silent scream as you orgasmed, feeling yourself gush over Gaara’s cock. He continued thrusting into you as your orgasmed ebbed into a swollen sensitivity. Once it did, the sand fell away and you heard Gaara moan loudly, finishing inside of you like he was marking your soul.

Without a word, he got up and stepped into the bathroom to clean up. You curled up on your side, a wave of emotion hitting as it always did. Every time, you wondered if he’d leave you lying there. Every time, he would come back and turn you over to pull you into his chest. You listened to his heartbeat like it was the gospel.

“You’re okay?” He asked quietly, his gentle demeanor back.

“I am. You?” He kissed the top of your head in response, humming softly. “You’re staying?” You always asked, even though it was always Gaara who constantly told you that you were always stuck with him, that no one else would love a broken girl like you.

“I am. Who else would stay with me like you?” 

It’s happening. All of your flaws that I once brushed over because I was head over heels for you are starting to show their faces. The way you contribute to a discussion by adding a single phrase or two and then nothing more bothers me. The way you respond to social interactions and gestures is unappealing in so many lights. The way you question me, but do nothing to back yourself up makes my head spin in circles. Maybe I never noticed these habits of yours, or maybe I chose not to notice them. I’m not sure. I do know that I get frustrated talking to you more often than not, more often than I would like to. My patience has never been great. But now? I have reached a whole new level of irritability. It happens every time. I just thought maybe you would be different.
—  10:11pm thoughts// maybe you would defy all odds

Wandering through the halls was always a bit of a daunting experience for Anson, considering he was still so new. He tended to feel like everyone was staring, though that could just be his paranoia. Although, at that moment, he was sure it was not just paranoia and that there was definitely eyes on him.·“Is there something in my teeth? I just brushed,” He asked aloud and bit his lip hesitantly.