Cant Get Over It - Tumblr Posts

2 years ago

otherworldly ~ coraline!au (pt.3)

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PAIRING ~ jimin x reader

GENRE ~ horror/thriller

WORD COUNT ~ 20K

SUMMARY ~ when you discover a tiny door in your home that leads to a much better version of your own life, it seems too good to be true. little do you know, the man posing as your boyfriend may be a lot more dangerous than you care to admit. and he is not intent on letting you leave.

WARNINGS ~ profanity, ANGST, relationship struggles, kidnapping, general creepiness, guilt tripping, spiders, violence, mentions of starvation, minor body mutilation, insects, restraints, blood, rats, non-graphic body horror, slight gore, needles/impalement, referenced medical horror, slight injury, jimin is a creep, dub-con kiss.

A/N ~ thank you for your patience!! I hope you like it :)

PART 1 PART 2

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The floorboards aren’t enough to ground you. Not when your heart is about to pound out of your rib cage, shaking hands scrabbling for purchase on something solid, something real.

How does one ground themselves after crawling out of hell?

Keep reading


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1 year ago

School

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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
School

Our six-year-old Erik was very tall as a child. He looks more like a seven or eight-year-old boy... but his Ma is very small, only 1.64 meters.

I can remember that I was very excited about school. I was so damn fucking ready to learn. But well... In the end, I hated school. I hated the others. I hated the teachers. I hated everything about it. Sit still. Don't talk. Don't ask twice. Don't look out the window. Don't stand up for no reason. Read faster. Spell it better. Don't be so fucking stupid. Back then, as an undiagnosed child, it wasn't easy for me. For nobody. My mother told me once, that I was, at the age of seven, so damn close to my autism diagnosis. But then, she said I didn't want to go anymore to this therapist so bad, that this is my very own fault, that I am now late diagnosed. It is? I was seven. A child. I don't know.


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