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#its both a happy thing for me and sad i guess
puppyeared · 5 months
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people who do STEM or administration as a career full time and continue to do art as a hobby, I am scared of you but like in a hot way. youre like if we were allowed to have cold drinks in winter. i look at you and think of miles morales with his two cakes. do you want to make out sometime
#i say all of this positively bc i just! i cant help admiring it!! even if its mundane or not a big deal to you i seriously cant wrap my head#around it.. this is in no way at all meant to be condescending or anything. whenever i look at someones bio and theyre like oh im working#as a lab assistant biologist pharmacist realtor etc im like woag.... thats insane.. and then i peep your art tag and it knocks my socks of#how?? what lives do you lead??? im so curious. i seriously want a peek inside your brains someday. or at least shadow you at work lol#i cant help but feel sad when someone says smth like well i have to support myself and art cant do that for me. or maybe you were#pushed into pursuing a 'safe' career bc i hear it a lot. all of my relatives have the same story working as nurses and OFWs for the family#i think for me its not about missed potential but rather its being sad about making a decision to put your happiness aside to get by#ive tried so hard to do it but it didnt work out. i guess watching you guys do it is fascinating to me#or maybe youve made peace with your decision or actually like what you pursued but im still amazed!! it makes me wonder what made#you pick one over the other in that case.. is it like putting time for two different things the way you would for a schedule?? hmmm#im doing graphic design so i dont really interact with ppl in other faculties even humanities like sociology or childcare... so i cant help#wondering what it must be like as someone whos pursuing visual communication both as an interest and career#i seriously wish i could do smth like a desk job or even admin and maybe ill try that if this doesnt work. or i could look into trades#but dyscalculia already makes it hard to do things like cash and mental math so i get overwhelmed if i think about this too hard#yapping
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cathalbravecog · 10 months
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Man... I can't stop thinking about the things that were talked about on the stream, especially the answer on my question - so... get ready for a ramble! its a long one. oops. i dont even know where im going with this, im just dumping my thoughts somewhere. half is about ttcc lore in general and the streams, the other half is about cathal and me projecting onto him deeper.
before i even hop deeper into this, it wasn't until early today that i learned that there was a whole drama about cranky's answers (regarding the graham and flint question and the whole "keep it sane" thing. i thought it was...off, but i understood it as 'do what you want people, just don't start any harassment because of ships and your favorite pairs'.
definitely could have been phrased better, though. at least we got a good response and an apology later from maven on twitter. but i legit did not know this was a drama until those twitter posts were made LOL. i dont interact with the fandom so i do not know how that answer was percieved by most. or if anyone except for me and my friends have had any thoughts about the question i asked that got answered.)
and what im tryna get to is that i get cranky isnt the one to be answering lore things, and probably didnt know what to answer... but it's still something to think about
because being told "cogs and toons just dont become how they are out of the blue" (paraphrasing here) as an answer to what cathal initially thought of seeing his dad be bet up and thrown off a tower is... confusing? he did say first and foremost that it has to be built upon before saying that. i understand that this is... a lot of characters! and cathal did have some focus on him thanks to the comic and they wanted to focus on other managers... but some have deeper, more intricate lore that's easy to grasp (especially the more, well, angstier managers like chip and misty.)
and we have gotten some extra lore for other managers like belle, mary, tawny.... thanks to thomas' rambles.
and it's definitely difficult for a team of volounteers working hard on a fan game together to make lore for all the characters, that are still very young in their *life span*, having been around for less than a year. despite ttcc being more character driven and focused on the cogs, it's still a game they have to run so they cannot focus on lore only and some game management has to be done first. there's a bunch of things they have to consider, like consistency and how fans may react, or possible themes or what they want the story to be...
and. yeah. its hard since. come on lets admit it. clash has an issue with how these are all given to us. hell, there's lore bits i still dont know about and im still learning because it's..so all over the place. a new player will not know about it. maven acknowledged this in the tweet and i really appreciate that, as it's honestly been my number one issue with clash, especially as someone who is there for the lore. (i mean, and the gameplay, i know some people who don't play the game itself much. well i sure do a little TOO MUCH because i have PROBLEMS. but im interested in the lore, too, yknow?)
some lore you cant learn from the wiki, and unless you interact with the community, you may never learn *where* all of this even is. if you werent live for certain lore there, it's hardly accessible to you. lore locked behind one time events, an arg website, wikis, discord chats... all that. it's hard to keep track of! i'm sure it's like that for both the fans and the writers. these characters are great, fun, and i love them, but the way we are given this information is... not the best. it's very easy to miss certain details.
it's especially bad if you're like me - only ever interacting with a close group of people you trust, (because people are scary especially a lot of... lore driven fans. yeahnoimeanshippers.sorry.and just big crowds of people in general) having only gotten back into the game recently AFTER most of the major lore events (first played once in 2019, then never again until january 2023) and also you dislike youtube and video content, so you dont watch it. something in your brain would rather if you step on a nail than watch a playthrough video (especially with commentary).
like in general it shouldnt be necessary to go through all these hoops just to know the lore! especially for things that may have little lore...
anyways, uh, back to cathal. i cannot stop thinking about this.
it definitely wasnt an answer to what i specifically asked - but possibly more so about... why cathal is the way he is? and despite what my brain and low self esteem during hard times may tell me - i do not believe that anybody is truly "lazy". i just dont think that exists. there's always some reason behind a person being unmotivated or lazy. even the little things!
but like... that's just kinda obvious. all toons and cogs have motivations. thats like... one of the basics of writing characters. have motivations for characters and reasons for why they are how they are. doesnt have to be anything tragic, just.... how they are as people.
it's totally unrelated to the question of what cathal thought about seeing his dad like that... but oh well! i asked that because i made up my own story around that already, and i just wanted to see what someone working on the game thinks about the same idea.
not to be Tumblr User CathalBravecog, but, of course I have projected heavily onto cathal. i have already stated how important cathal is to me as a character, especially with appreciating myself when im.. not exactly the most motivated. when im not doing much. taught me to appreciate breaks. hell! i keep preaching this myself. its okay to take breaks! and yet i often end up not doing it and i overwork myself on games and art and other things.
there's... a lot of things "wrong" with me that i don't have names for yet, especially due to not having a diagnosis for them, but they're very real feelings and they cause me to be unable to do things a lot of the time. various mental blocks and a new member of the gang... physical pai! hooray.
this... endless productivity we are forced and expected to do. it can take a toll on you. breaks are just as necessary and to say it's a thing that has to be re-learned is... sickening. hooray for living in a Corporate (clash) society, fellas.
one thing i can say is that i absolutely headcanon that cathal has adhd - though, maybe not the same type i do. i do not think he gets randomly hyper and wants to (and does) jump around everywhere and blurt things out randomly and impulsively. cathal here has the low energy, yknow.
i like that a lot of the content around him doesnt even describe him with the words "lazy" and "sleepy" instead.
every day is the same... even if his job is relatively simple, just watching over the camera feed - it's definitely boring... and having to do it every day is not rewarding. and being mostly alone and without consequence, he gives into wanting to do something else. he's got these huge screens and a room to himself, and he loves watching shows and cartoons... so he's gonna do that. it's more fun. it's stimulating. and especially with his dad being the one to give him his position, he knows that he's got nothing to really worry about there.
i also think it's a bit hard to be motivated knowing that... this war between the cogs and toons is just. endless. hell, again, he has to see his dad *everyday* be attacked by them. his body damaged after the fall - only to be fixed again. rinse and repeat. i would too, find it pointless. especially if you're like cathal, since i pointed out before that he is very kind and caring towards the other cogs. he's also thoughtful, noting that yknow... a lot of stairs to get to his room.
why do all that when you can chill... and feel good. do something that feels nice...
i don't have any names for this, but with how sleepy he usually is, that's definitely a thing to consider too. and just, from experience... being tired and/or sleepy it... dismotivates you even more. its so hard to start tasks even if you *want* to do them. and considering cathal mooost likely doesn't want to do his work on his own - then these tasks can be just. impossible to start.
like, i have struggled with this my entire life myself, just because of my adhd screwing with everything, but after getting covid and most definitely getting a form of chronic exhaustion from it.. things have been even harder. i pull myself through day and i barely have the energy to even start anything. sometimes i dont even do anything all day and... woops! still no mood or energy to do anything. i just work on random bursts of motivation and things that captivate me...
not sure how it relates to cathal, but, hey, if im personal here ill ramble about it too because WOW it has been biting me in the ass and i need to speak to Professionals About It
like... i dont think hes being "lazy" willingly, yknow? theres a reason behind it. it definitely is just... being sleepy, the comfort... the fun and stimulation doing something fun he's interested in (his shows) are just... stronger desires and way easier for him to get to. why struggle through something when it takes up all your energy, and then you feel no reward for it? yeah. exactly. even just "not feeling like it" is a reson. "not having energy" is a reason. hey, are these things to get better about if needed? certainly. i wish i could get help with this, it would help me in my life so so much. but should it be seen as ENTIRELY negative and as being a "hinder to society". hell nah. and i think thats swag. cathal is swag he can do this, good for him lmaooo. my brain is deteriorating i apologize.
there was... another thing i wanted to say, but i forgot. so i'll move on.
but just... yeah. i dont think cathal is just lazy. i dont believe in "laziness". he's got reasons for why he prefers naps and just... watching tv instead of doing his work. perhaps he does want to do these things, but gave up on trying. its not worth the effort, it does not feel good. its not stimulating enough to keep him going.
#long#ramble#cathalposting#i...may delete this later i dont know. i both wanna talk to ppl i know about this#but also Do Not Percieve me. I am Afraid Of What People Think#Stay Back Foul Beasts !#alsoy eah i had other stuff to talk about...more on the negative side i guess but??? its. a bit difficult to#give and .. angstier things? negative thoughts? to a character who you see a lot of comfort in. they make you happy#they help you feel better about yourself. you want to see them happy. if theyre happy#youre happy. if theyre sad...well. you are sad. sadness is natural. its a real thing. it happens sometimes. its a part of life#and i have attached some of these things to cathal already. but a few things are hard for me to consider because of The Brain Worms.#i dont want to see him hurt either yknow.#anyways i hope you enjoyer my mental illness ramble. im not normal and you shouldve known that when you followed me#thank you for existing cathal ray toby braveswag#hey fun fact remember how i said i get tired of stuff myself easily well this whole thing made me tired. i was gonna#answer an ask but now im like. man. (melts into a puddle)#(doesnt take a break bc i need instant stimulation and makes things worse for myself)#do yall see why i like cathal so much now gamers?#ya. sorry this got personal. if any of you can handle reading this u deserve a reward.#and maybe i need to start talking about personal things this much. but whatever#this is my blog i can talk about anything and thats the COOL THING!#MWAHAHAHHAHAHA!#dies#ivegot a lot going on in my brain rn cant u tell
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simgerale · 2 years
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hope everyone is doing well!!! ♥ made a cute fairy girl as an excuse to post something lol
#ts4#i'm so tired but i finally had some time on my hands#a lot has happened since we all last spoke !!!!!!!!! and by spoke i mean since i have last rambled in the tags about my life#some sad news and some bittersweet news and some happy news!#pet death tw#i know that won't block anything but i am gonna talk about it so scroll away pls if you need to#my childhood dog got really sick last week and had been in-and-out of the vet#she was 16 years old and it's amazing that she has been with us for so long honestly#but we had to put her down this week as her liver started to fail. we think it might have been cancer that finally showed its head#i was so sad and couldn't stop crying for the life of me. but i had to go to work the next day and that felt so wrong#i know that's life! it just sucks that my grieving period is cut short and i have trained myself to adjust to that#onto the bittersweet news... today (or yesterday i guess since this will post on saturday) was my last day at my job!#i will be moving soon to live with my boyfriend so i figured it was time to cut my ties there (esp. since other people are also leaving#and i didn't want to clean up the mess)#everyone was really sweet about my departure and i will miss them#but i also know this is just the beginning of my life!!!!!!!#which brings me to happy news#like i said i'll be moving soon!!!!! moving in with my bf whom i'm very excited to marry one day!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i will get the domestic bliss i've always wanted in life. how basic! i know! but i can't wait.#i don't have a new job yet but i've been applying to both remote things and in office things#i'm excited for what that may mean as well.#over all. life is life and it's happening for me#so that's why sims has been on the backburner!#soon i will return <333 thank you for your patience lovelies.#have a great GREAT weekend.
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seungbo-today · 1 year
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1980ssunflower · 1 year
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**KISSES THEM BOTH AND PICKS THEM BOTH UP OFF THE GROUND
#ot3: ❤rhyme💛easy💙#tape entry circa 1980#I WAS ABLE TO LIFT THEM BOTH UP OFF THE GROUND IN MY ARMS IN A DREAM SO THATS REAL NOW HFJDSK#i love them SOO SOOO SOO SO SO SO SOSOSOSOSO MUCH#every day i think of them and long for them#i just long for a happy life w them both... i want the simple things so badly tbh i want to fall asleep and wake up next to them every day#to make food for them and to cook together to go grocery shopping and running errands just whatever as long as its w them#there is beauty in everything even in the simple even in the ugly... and w them that beauty is so blindingly there at all times#i want to experience every little thing w them and be comforted by them and for them to comfort me too...#like when i broke the first elo album i ever owned and just BROKE down crying about it because of how important it was to me#and they went out immediately to try to find another first pressing to replace it#idk i just keep thinking about them and i keep feeling so sad because im not w them#the thought i could ever be w/o them makes me feel such deep dread that it makes me nauseous like ik i wouldnt be able to live w/o them#theyre my everything my life my loves my truest soulmates#id do anything to be home w them in the 80s to go on our rollerskating dates and to browse music for hours and hangout at the mall#idk i just cant stop thinking i just cant... i just love them more than life itself#i think everything in this world has beauty in it but when it comes to min and ryan its like nothing can even hold a candle to them#if the world is beautiful then they are ethereal#i was playing my guitar for a few hours today and just couldnt help but wonder if my min and ryan are proud of me...#if im... enough for them i guess#i havent been playing my whole life like they have so i feel like i cant match up... but ik they love me#and ik im good enough for the band and they would reassure me over and over of that#i just kinda wish they could love and reassure me in person#and then we could play and sing together :"-] id love to hear our voices together... i think my voice would go so perfectly w theirs
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hecksupremechips · 5 months
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The only problem with being an autistic person who doesn’t have big emotional reactions and talking to another autistic person who doesn’t have big emotional reactions is that when you talk to each other its just awkward silences and it’s like you have an idea of how a person is supposed to react to things cuz you’ve had this script memorized for years but now this person isn’t sticking to the script so it’s like OH GOD I FUCKED UP
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vicariouseyes · 11 months
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As per usual, I return to this website once every *looks at wrist* *insert random duration of time here* as the only place that I feel safe venting about personal issues. Y'know, aside from therapy. (⁠ノ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ノ⁠*⁠.⁠✧
#pride month makes me sad okay#like#only a handful of people know that i'm bigender#my partner doesnt know#he has said many things in the past that make me think he wouldnt be bothered#he knows ive got weird gender stuff going on#my words not his#and he has straight up mentioned before that i could wear a binder if i wasnt feeling particular feminine on a given day#and also that he has a preference for particular body parts as far as sex goes#but that the gender of the person doesnt matter one way or the other really#and literally the first thing he said when i texted him about being afraid to talk about it over a year ago was#“only three things matter: you are you. i love you. you will be okay.”#so WHY AM I STILL AFRAID HES GONNA LEAVE ME IF I TELL HIM#HE IS LITERALLY THE MOST COMPASSIONATE AND LOVING PERSON AND CLEARLY CARES DEEPLY ABOUT MY HEALTH AND HAPPINESS#THIS SHOULDNT EVEN REQUIRE A SECOND THOUGHT#and yet#i am still fucking terrified#some part of me knows he addresses himself as straight and worries he'd leave if i was like#well im kinda both? like most of the time? its fluid I guess? i lean a little female probably but like#basically i just kind of hover in the middle most of the time?#i just dont want him to latch on to me describing any part of myself as masculine and then not be able to handle that#i really dont think thatll be the case#like we're already poly and he knows im not straight and hes very feminine himself#i highly doubt hed judge#but im just so scared at the thought of losing the healthiest relationship ive ever had with someone who makes me so happy#i love having disorganized attachment and abandonment issues 🙃#pride month and coming out day always hit me a little hard because of this#its a constant reminder#sigh
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plorpl · 7 months
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More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.
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Way, way too much info under the break!!
The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:
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WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO
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You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.
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The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.
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One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.
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And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.
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More insane top screen screenshots without context:
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Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:
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I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.
That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:
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And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:
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It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.
Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:
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katiemcabeswife · 6 days
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Awkward Conversations Outfits
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader || Alexia overhears a conversation and assumes the worst, leading to a confusing and awkward conversation.
she wrote something! i apologise for the lack of fics but i don't want to give you guys some half-assed writing that i'm not proud of, and i haven't written anything anywhere near my own standards lately (not that i've been able to finish anything) so i hope you enjoy this and that i can get back into the grove of writing and give yous some more fics x
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"And then once I think I've figured it out, I second guess myself and think it's too ugly and that I'm going to be judged and then when I look around, there's just clothes everywhere and all I wanna do is out on my frumpiest sweats and cry into my pillow! I don't understand how you guys do it!" Alexia was stunned to hear you rant so freely about a subject she had never heard you utter a word about.
She walked through the door halting your conversation, "Hola, chicas!" She announced herself and watched you slump back into your chair while Ingrid and Frido shared a glance.
"Hola, Ale," You grumbled out, disheartened.
Ingrid struck up a new conversation between the four of you as the rest of the team began to trickle into the changing room. Alexia remained silent though, trying to come up with a reason as to why you wouldn't come to her about this sort of thing, why it had to be Ingrid and Frido you chose to confide in. While it would definitely be an awkward conversation, Alexia would be more than happy to have that sort of talk with you. After taking you in at a young age, you had both bonded so well your relationship resembled that of mother and daughter.
You noticed Alexia seemed to be a little distanced and quiet so you made a move to check in on her when the team started to head out to the pitch, "Hola, Ale," You greeted, wrapping your arms around her and pressing your cheek to hers.
Her arms came to hold yours but she moved her cheek away from yours to lay a quick peck to it, "Hola, bebé, everything ok?" She rested her cheek on yours once again, relishing in the closeness and comfort it provided.
Your brows furrowed slightly, "Of course, I actually came to check on you," You giggled.
Alexia sighed as she saw this as you deflecting. She pulled away from you wholey before holding your face between her palms, "Well thank you for thinking of me, I'm fine, thank you," She pecked her lips against your forehead, filling your soul with warmth, "You know you can always talk to me, right? About anything. No judgement, sí?" She was looking deep into your eyes for any sign of sadness or lies.
All she could find was confusion, "Sí, you sure you're feeling alright?" You jokingly placed the back of your hand on her forehead.
Alexia responded by shoving your head in the opposite way, "Enough now," The lightness in her tone assured you that she was only joking.
Training went on, as usual, you were paired with Keira for drills meaning that you never got the chance to speak directly to Alexia until you were heading out to her car. You spent the drive home with a furrow in your brow uncanny to the one that rested on Alexia’s face as the older woman remained quiet and seemed lost in thought.
Once you arrived home Alexia haphazardly threw the keys onto the kitchen counter before turning to you who stood awkwardly between her and your bedroom, “You can go shower, Cari, dinner should be ready in an hour,” The small, tight smile she wore forced you to reciprocate but filled your mind with anxiety and guilt that came from an unknown source.
After showering, unpacking and repacking your training bag you shuffled out to the living room stiffly to find Alexia resting on the couch, watching some trashy reality tv. Her head raised from its slumped position, “Hola, Princesa,” She tapped the seat next to her, signalling you to join her which you did instantly.
She wrapped her arms around you and ran her hands through your freshly washed hair, “Are you sure you are feeling alright?” She spoke softly but her tone was heavy with concern.
You shrugged your shoulders, admitting defeat, “I feel like you’re upset with me,” You mumbled into her chest, limbs tense and eyes trained on the tv.
You lowered your head as Alexia manoeuvred the two of you so you were facing one another, “Why would you think that?” She lifted your chin with her fingers.
“You just seem…off, and I can’t help but think that I had something to do with it because you seemed fine in training laughing with ‘Tana and stuff.” You unknowingly jutted out your bottom lip, reminding Alexia of your youth.
She shuffled apprehensively in her seat, “It’s just that I accidentally heard your conversation with Ingrid and Frido and felt a little upset you didn’t come to me about it,” She was shy to admit she had basically eavesdropped on your very private conversation.
“Oh,” Alexia was too busy looking everywhere but your eyes to notice the relief in your tone.
“So,” She shrugged now feeling awkward and uncomfortable, “Is there anything you want to ask me?”
“I guess just how you manage to feel sure of yourself and confident with whatever you’re wearing?” Alexia’s eyes bulged out of their sockets and her mind began to run 100 miles per minute.
She turned pink at the question, her reaction throwing you off significantly, “Wearing!? I didn’t think you- I thought-” She was stumbling over her words and by now you were in a state of total confusion. She managed to get herself together and forced out a string of advice, “Well, everyone looks different but everyone is beautiful and there is no one way to look and if you are truly scared your partner is going to judge you, you shouldn’t be with them, let alone trust them with your body,” She had you in the first half but your brain completely melted by the second.
You cut her off instantly, “Ale, what are you talking about? That whole conversation was about how I never know what to wear before games and going out to dinners, stuff like that. I was frustrated with how you, Ingrid, Frido and the whole team to be fair, always look so cool and confident. What are you thinking it was about?”
“¡Oh, gracias a Dios!” She looked to the ceiling as she fell against the back of the couch, “I thought it was a whole other conversation about something way more uncomfortable,” She laughed to herself.
“Oh, Ale! Gross!” You whacked her while joining in on her laughter.
She took a deep breath before continuing, “You just have to own what you’re wearing, you are gorgeous and will look good in anything! Trust me,” She emphasised when she saw you roll your eyes, “How about after dinner, we go look in your closet and pick out some outfits so this weekend you have options for before the game? Sí?” 
You nodded with a smile on your face, “Gracias, Ale,” You moved over to her and she wrapped you in her arms, laying a kiss on your temple. You stilled for a moment before taking a deep breath, “I think dinner is burning,” You said calmly.
Alexia hummed before taking in what you said, “¿Qué?” She yelled and pulled away, running to the kitchen as you doubled over with laughter.
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mangosrar · 3 months
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call it what you want pt2
matt sturniolo x fem reader.
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"i mean come on y/n, its a perfect chance for you to get back at your parents and a perfect chance for matt to get back at jess, how could you say no" nick stated.
"fuck no, jess can eat shit, and besides, id rather die lonely than have to ever be close to that loser" you replied, walking into the kitchen, with matt, nick and now chris who had walked in on you and matt screaming at each other just a few minutes before.
"shes right matt jess can eat shit" chris added, causing matt to glare at him and roll his eyes.
jess was matts bitchy, stuck up, brat of a girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend of 4 months. they had broken up about a month ago when she came to matt and told him she wasnt in the right place for a boyfriend, then posted a photo of her kissing jason atkins on her Instagram story. you honestly found the whole thing hilarious; she was some blonde bimbo who thought the sun shone out of her ass, and matt was the complete opposite, he was grumpy and dark, but someone how they ended up together.
"y/n your childish side is showing, i mean please do not fucking flatter yourself, i would rather gouge my own eyeballs out than have anyone think im with you, but i want my girlfriend back, i miss her" matt said, running a hand through his hair, leaning against the counter opposite you.
"aw are you gonna cry matty?" you mocked with a fake sad expression.
"y/n" nick said flatly. "you need this, come on" he continued.
you sighed, trying to really think this out. nick was right, but you also werent sure he would be so happy with this whole situation by the time you murdered his brother. there was a pause for a moment, all three of them staring at you, waiting for you to give in before you spoke up.
"how would it even work?" you asked.
"we post together, tell people were together, go to parties and shit with each other but in private i wanna stay as far away from your annoying ass as i can." matt said shrugging his shoulders while looking at you.
"what about school dumbass?" chris added.
"the same i guess, but dont be all up on me in the hallways i dont wanna be that annoying couple" matt grimaced.
"you and jess were that annoying couple, always making out in front of everyone and shit its gross, so just make sure you swap saliva in private" nick said, jabbing his hand out in front of him as he spoke to get his point across.
"this conversation is giving me literal back ache, im dipping, just figure it out and dont kill each other while you're at it." chris sighed, standing up and walking away.
"me too, just...no mean words towards each other, you're dating now remember" nick pleaded.
"no promises" matt muttered, watching nick walk out of the room, leaving you and matt in awkward silence.
neither of you really wanted to do this, but it was ideal, it was just annoying that you had to be so fucking rude and stubborn and attractive and smell so good. and it was infuriating that matt had to be so mean and punchable, and so sexy with a face that was so sittable. the two of you really couldnt resist stand eachother.
neither of you wanted to make eye contact, both just looking around before you broke the silence.
"do you really wanna do this?" you asked.
"no but its my only option" matt replied, still staring at you, sitting on the counter, from his position, leaning on the opposite side.
"so were really doing this?" you stated.
"i guess we are" he whispered, looking down at his feet.
"no kissing or anything though" you squinted at him. matt just hung his head and laughed before pushing himself off the counter and sauntering towards you, stopping when your knees met his stomach.
matt placed his hands on the counter, next to each one of your thighs and leaned his face closer to yours, making you suck in a breath from the closeness. "why baby? scared you'll like it?"
you couldnt deny the insatiable heat that was now blooming between your legs, he smelt so goo, his eyes looked hungry and the heat radiating off of his body onto yours made you dizzy. you swallowed thickly, desperately trying to regain your composure. there was no way in hell that he was going to get you that easily.
"i dont know where that mouth has been baby" you replied with a sickly-sweet smile, before pushing him back by his shoulders and hopping off the counter, making quick progress out of the kitchen and as far away from him as possible.
you heard him chuckle before he shouted.
"see you on Monday girlfriend" you could hear the smirk in his voice, and it only made you wanna turn around and slap the shit out of him more, but you just rolled your eyes and continued your decent from the kitchen.
god this was going to be torture.
——————————————————————————
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krirebr · 6 months
Text
We Are Vain & We Are Blind
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Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader
Word Count: ~9.7k
Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.
Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika
Masterlist
A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!
I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!
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Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.
You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.
You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.
You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 
Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”
You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”
“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”
Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”
“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?
“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”
“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”
She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.
You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.
“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.
At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”
You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”
“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”
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You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.
Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”
You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.
She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”
“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.
“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.
“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.
You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?
The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”
“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”
“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.
“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”
“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 
“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”
You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”
Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”
You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”
“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”
“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”
“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”
You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”
“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 
Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.
“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”
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Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”
“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”
“Yup! That’s how dares work.”
“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”
“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 
You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.
The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 
The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.
You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.
“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”
He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.
“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?
He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”
“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.
“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”
What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?
His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.
“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   
You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”
You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.
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You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 
“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.
“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”
“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 
“Not that I saw.”
“Then how do you know they’re for me?”
She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”
You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”
She nodded and left. 
You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 
You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.
Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?
His response was immediate.
Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular
You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?
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Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.
“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.
“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”
What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 
“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 
He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”
It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 
You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 
He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.
You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–
You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.
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That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.
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In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 
When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.
“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 
Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”
You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.
Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 
Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”
You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"
"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."
"Does it say how?"
He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."
"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 
He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.
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The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.
You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”
You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”
Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.
Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 
As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 
“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 
"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 
Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.
 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”
He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.
He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  
“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.
“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”
Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”
You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”
He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 
“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.
“No, they all passed a while ago.”
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 
“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.
“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”
He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”
“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 
“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 
While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.
As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”
“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 
“What do you mean?”
You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”
She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”
“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 
She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.
“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”
You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”
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A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”
“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”
“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”
“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 
You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”
“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.
You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 
A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–
You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.
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You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.
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You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.
You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.
Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 
Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.
When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”
You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.
Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 
“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.
“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”
He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”
You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”
A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”
“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.
“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 
You shrugged and shook your head.
“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”
Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.
“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”
You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.
Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.
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Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.
Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.
There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 
Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.
The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.
Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.
For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.
“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”
“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”
“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”
As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.
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You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.
On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.
That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.
When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.
“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.
   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”
He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–
You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.
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The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.
As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.
“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 
You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”
“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”
“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”
“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”
That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”
They looked confused. “Like, ever?”
“No! Just in the past two weeks!”
They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”
You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”
Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.
“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”
“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.
“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”
“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.
“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.
“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.
“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”
You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.
Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 
You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”
So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”
You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”
“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”
“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”
“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”
“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.
Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.
You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”
You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”
You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.
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Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.
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It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.
When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”
“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”
A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”
“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”
You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.
Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 
As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.
As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.
You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.
You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.
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You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.
Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.
It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”
He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”
Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.
He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.
You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”
He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”
As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 
He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”
There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.
“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”
It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”
He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”
“And if I don’t?”
He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”
“No, no, please,” you begged.
“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.
You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”
Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 
You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.
Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.
“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.
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You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.
A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”
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Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜
Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire
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hi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
i want to say that i really like your work and would like to try to make a request with douma, where s/o is very random
for example, they just hang out and then s/o gives out a random strange fact like: "did you know that dolphins can fall in love very much and build relationships the same way as people?" or she can run up, pet him and run away, etc
feel free to ignore it! hope you having a wonderful day, love you
and forgive me for my english, it's quite crooked
Hello \(≧▽≦.)/ Thank you so much for saying that anon, that truly makes me happy to hear, also don't worry, your request has been heard loud and clear! And I love it!
I hope I've done your request justice (^ω^.) and please know that your always welcome back to browse and request something from me again.
Your English is great by the way,so don't worry!
Douma/Doma with an S/O who does random things - [Headcannons]:
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There where many things that Douma/Doma found boring, in life and with entertainment, but you weren't boring - you were anything but boring
Each day you did (or said) something that tickled his funny bone
Each day you had a new fact, hobby, skill/talent and object that you had to share with him that genuinely had his brain working overtime at how you knew or did that
Douma/Doma finally found something to look forward too each day and it was you and your randomness
Your randomness was cute - adorable even - and it definitely saved you from scenario's that would have ended up with your death (and a rather pissed off and sad spouse) or at least hurt
Douma/Doma enjoys your random fact of the day - that you randomly drop on him at a random point in the day
When you first started your random fact dropping you'd started with facts about the human body during a tea ceremony
"Did you know that the average tongue is about three inches long" You said simply, taking a sip of your tea before continuing "and that the human body can shed about 40 pounds of skin?" - its safe to say that Douma/Doma was so dumbfounded by those facts he over-poured his tea with a rather star-struck expression
Although he does quite like the cute random facts that you tell him too - "Did you know that trees can make friends and talk to each other? Isn't that sweet"
You also had the habit of coming up to him randomly - at different points in the day - and inspecting his hands and tapping three times on his wrist (directly on where his pulse point would be) before leaving without a word
And bopping his nose
And sometimes knocking gently on his forehead
Also you like tracing shapes through his clothes on his back, arms and legs - making him guess the shapes and words you form with your nails
You also liked stealing his fans to use them for something random and/or weird - he once found you using them to cut fruit...
Once you baked a 10 tier cake and brought it in mid sermon with his followers with plates and water
Food was another thing that you made randomly, you baked and cooked new and weird things and brought in for him to try - as well as his followers....
When he sleeps in, it's always a 60/40 that you'll have done something to his hair - You like to fiddle with and decorate his hair and you have once perfectly styled his hair into a plaited mohawk
You've painted his nails - "Oh paint them pink next time love" He'd whined once into your neck "I want them to match the colour of your love~" + "Oh! Like the colour of my organs too?" followed by a blank stare from Douma/Doma
As you both where about to sleep you turned to him, perfect smile on your face and sleep hazing your eyes and said, "I wanna eat you! Just take a chunk cause your too perfect and beautiful for this world" before promptly falling asleep
He has found you trying to do cartwheels down the hall
You've always got something up your sleeve and it honestly brings Douma/Doma so much joy to live through each day, finding out what you had in store
.....you've made a finger puppet version of him before as well as a doll and you have used both as advisors - "And what do you think Wackus Bonkus?" "Kill him" "Oh! You Naughty Wackus Bonkus!"
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kiaxet · 1 year
Text
So it turns out the latest update in @somerandomdudelmao‘s apocalypse comic has been living in my head, and when that happens I need to get it out, so ~900 words of sad it is!
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Donnie is good at birthdays. He has been once he was old enough to understand the concept. It's a point of pride.
Specifically, he's good at presents. According to his data, most people who fail at presents do so because of the guesswork they seem to think needs to be involved. He's never understood the point of that. Data and hypotheses, certainly, but why guess when a definitive answer is available after a simple direct inquiry?
"What do you want for your birthday?"
Early on, the presents are easy. Art supplies. Comics. Stuffed animals. Things he could hand to Papa in an easily followed list format, or obtain for himself once they all got old enough to start safely leaving the lair and venturing into the city above. It's simple and straightforward and so, so easy to get right.
(Of course, he always has an annotated list of his own desired gifts to provide to his brothers; if he's solved the guesswork issue, he may as well make things easy for them too. Plus, that method ensures he gets what he wants.)
Things start getting a little more complicated as he and his brothers get older. Art supplies and comics and stuffed animals are still very much appreciated, and he's documented his brothers' tastes well enough to know exactly what they like, but the answers to his simple direct inquiry are different.
"Dee, can you help me plan this mural out? I think I have enough space, but I could use a hand with the measurements."
"Donton, my half of the day is gonna be a Jupiter Jim marathon, and I need you there. Without your laptop." A beat. "But you can pick one of the movies if you want."
"Hey Donnie, you think you can help me out fixing up the gym? Things just stay put longer if you weld 'em."
After a few years of documentation, Donnie spots the pattern. His brothers appreciate physical gifts from him, certainly, but that's not what they want anymore. What Donnie's family wants from him is time - time outside the lab where he spends a good amount of his days, time spent in conversation or shared activity or simply in the same room. It's not as easy as finding the right physical gift, but if that's what they want, then he's more than happy to provide. Now that he's discerned the pattern, it's just as easy to give his brothers what they want, and Donnie can continue to maintain that he is Good At Birthdays as a point of pride.
~~~~~~~~
The Hamatos don't do birthdays anymore. There's no time in the apocalypse, no supplies, and Donnie is one of the few who actually keeps track of the calendar date. The apocalypse certainly has its share of anniversaries, a list that only grows the more people they lose, but birthdays are no longer celebrated.
With one exception.
Casey Jones Junior, their collective adopted kid, is young enough that birthdays still matter - should still matter. They do their best to keep him safe and keep those days calm and happy for him, despite everything happening around them, and while they don't always succeed, they at least try.
And damn it all, Donatello is still good at birthdays.
"Casey Junior!" He greets the kid with a grin, leaning on his bo like it's not both an inconvenience and a humiliation to need to rely on it in order to stay upright.
"Uncle Tello?"
"Since I'm not very good at guessing, I'll ask straight out." This is not entirely true - he has a list of potential gifts for Casey drafted, with 98% certainty that whatever Casey asks for will align with one of them - but he requires that confirmation to move forward. A certainty in a world where certainty is in short supply. "What do you want for your birthday?"
"My...ah." Casey's expression falls and he looks away, gaze fixed on the paperwork in his hands. Donatello says nothing, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room in order to give Casey space. "You...can do anything," Casey starts.
"Pretty much, yes." Material issues aside - spirits know he'd have a cure for whatever the Krang had infected him with if those weren't a concern.
"I want you to stay alive," Casey says, and Donnie's smile freezes in place as Casey looks back up at him. "Can you do that?"
Damn that two percent uncertainty.
"Ah. Of course." He shrugs, as though he doesn't know exactly what Casey is asking for, and pulls up a holographic display of a calendar. "According to my calculations, I will be alive next month, which means I'll be here for your birthday." Not talking about it won't solve the problem, but it may salvage this conversation. "So! What's an actual gift you want?"
"I want you to be here." Casey's gaze finds a point on the floor, and Donnie falls silent. "Not just for a month."
No. No, he needs something concrete - something he can act on - he knows how long his list of responsibilities is, but he still feels stymied, rushing up on the end, and he needs something he can do- "But it's not a gift," he replies, a last-ditch effort he's fairly certain is bound for failure-
"No. No, it is."
As always, all Donnie's family wants from him is time.
And now, at the end of his rapidly-shortening life, it's the one thing he can no longer give them.
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chaengluva · 2 months
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Defend
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Reneé Rapp x Fem!Reader: 1.3k words
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Being Reneé Rapp's girlfriend had its advantage's, I mean she's hot, protective and tall, what lesbian wouldn't want her. At times like this , you start to notice all the negatives. Since mean girls came out, a lot more people are simping for Reneé, that doesn't bother you but the hate you get does.
Reneé is very proud and open with her relationship with you, some fans support you but there are many that don't, they always leave comments on you posts that say Reneé deserves someone better, making you feel slightly insecure. You knew that wasn't her fault, and you can't blame them for finding her attractive.
She was currently on tour, and you misses her more then ever, you called every night but it was never the same, you texted her a lot but it just made you feel further apart. Some nights, your emotions got the best of you and started to cry, being alone in your bed, eating dinner alone, and you're one year anniversary was coming up and you knew that would be hard to spend alone too.
You thought she was mad at you because she hasn't been responding to your calls on the day leading up to your anniversary, you tried texting and calling many times but, you got no answer which made you worry. You tried not to panic, but it's been a week since she has contacted you, and now your anniversary is tomorrow and It all started to hit you, she as probably is too busy for you now.
You sat on the bed, feeling very empty, being with out her was hard enough but her not texting back really hurt you. You didn't realise you were crying until you felt the sleeves of your shirt start to soak up. You laid down, looked at your phone to see if she might have texted back, but there was nothing, you sighed, putting the phone down and closing your eyes.
You woke up to a loud bang on the bedroom door, you jumped up and gasped. Someone was inside your house. You didn't want to check, you're first thought was to call Reneé, hoping she would answer this time. You called her, but coincidently as soon as you called her you could hear a ringtone coming from the other side. You rush to open the door, you came face to face with your girlfriend.
"Happy anniversary baby." She smiles, holding roses and a gift bag for you. "R-Reneé...I don't have anything for you...I didn't know you would be home-" She cut you off by pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. The both of you don't pull away, she pushes you on the bed and finally loses contact with your lips. "I missed this." She says while kissing your collarbones. You almost gave in, but then you remembered that she had ignored you for a week. "Stop." You say.
Reneé looks at you with a lot of confusion, "You've been ignoring me for a week.." You tell her with a lot of sadness in your voice. She sighs. "Y/n, I'm really sorry I've been really busy, the only time I've been on my phone was when I planning the surprise for you." You raise an eyebrow, "Surprise?" You question, she giggles nodding her head. "Well I guessed I've said it now. I've talked to my team.. they have allowed me to bring you along for the rest of the tour!" She smiles. You gasp, you could probably burst out into tears, you were so happy. "Pack your things baby, our flights in four hours."
You spent an hour packing and getting ready, and a lot of kissing Reneé, she tried to make out with you, she manged to get your shirt off and give you a few hickeys on your stomach. You wanted to continue but you knew you wouldn't be able to stop if you did. You put your shirt back on and Reneé grabbed your bags and you headed down to her car, she opened the door for you and then put your bags in the back.
You got to the airport and there was quite a bit of paparazzi, they were shouting some hurtful things towards you, you tried your best to ignore it. One of them tried to grab your shirt and pull you away from Reneé, if it wasn't for her tight grip on you, they would have succeeded. Reneé gave them an angry look, you could see it in her eyes that she was about to shout at this person. "Reneé, Baby, It's okay." That must have calmed her down because she nodded at you and continued to walk to the gate.
You were at the gate, waiting for them to call your flight number, Reneé was already quite tired from her first flight, she laid her head on your shoulder and relaxed her eyes. Not long after your flight was called. You woke Reneé up, and walked on the plane, it was a bit colder then you expected and all your jumpers were in your suitcase, not in your carry on. Reneé must have noticed your change in behaviour, she took off her leather jacketed and put it on you. You smiled at her and she smiled back and you.
The flight was only 4 hours long but Reneé fell asleep quickly, you smile at her, making sure to take a look of pictures of her, even replacing her lock screen with a selfie of you posing next to her sleeping self. After that, you quickly feel asleep.
Reneé woke you up, telling you that we are going to land soon, once you landed, you quickly got off the plane and Reneé took you to her driver. She still hasn't noticed that you changed her background yet. "Baby, I have an interview for mean girls, you wanna come and meet the cast?" she asked you. You nodded happily.
The driver drove to the interview spot and Reneé walked you in and you could see the cast of mean girls all there. You were very shy around new people, so you stayed clingy to Reneé, she introduced  you to everyone. They were all so sweet. You sat behind the scenes as the interview was going on. You just admired Reneé the whole time and what cut you out of it was one of the questions the interviewer asked.
"So Reneé, we all know that you're girlfriend Y/n," You could see her smile just at the mention of her name.  "Is a look less.. prettier then you, how does that make you feel in public?" The interviewer continued, everyone on cast began to feel uncomfortable, Reneé looked more angry then I have ever seen, "Okay, first of all, my girlfriend is fine as fuck, secondly, i'm going to cut off your tongue if you ever speak my girlfriends name again."
She stands up and walks to you, taking your hand, and taking you back to the car, "I'm sorry that happened baby." She sighed, holding your face. You kisses her lips, "It's okay, thanks for defending me baby," She smiles, "I always will." She gets a notification from her phone, she takes it out of her back pocket and thats when she sees the wallpaper, she giggles, "I'm keeping this." you smile.
The notification was a text from Bebe, asking if you were okay, then the rest of the cast asked same thing, Reneé told them that you were okay and that the both of you were going to the hotel.
The night was spent with a lot of making out, watching movies and talking to each other, you could have never imagined spending your anniversary this way, and you loved every second of it.
-
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sister-lucifer · 3 months
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When It Rains
Tim Wright/Masky x Gender Neutral Reader 
READ THE FIRST PART HERE 
READ PART THREE HERE
Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty but has a happy ending, not explicitly romantic
Summary: It’s been raining all day, and the gloomy weather has you thinking about what could’ve been, and especially what never will be.
Content/Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death/suicide, it’s a little sad, I guess? But that’s it. Reader just speculates on how life would’ve been if the Operator hadn’t fucked them over and gets down about it, but theres a happy ending. 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
It’s raining again. Not that that’s new. Springtime out here sees its fair share of storms. Normally you’d observe the rain from inside, but today something inside was gnawing at you for some fresh air. 
The old rocking chair creaks beneath your weight, moving to and fro softly as you watch the rain. It comes down in sheets off the sides of the cover, splattering to the muddy ground and making a shallow moat around the patio. It lands loudly on the old tin roof, rattling and groaning in a manner that is far too dramatic. It obscures anything beyond the perimeter of the cabin and hides everything in a misty haze. 
It’s going to be foggy tomorrow, you think. It usually is when it rains like this. It’ll be cold for the next few days, too, and the ground will be soggy for weeks. Miserable weather, that is. Not that that’s new. 
It’s a good day to wonder, that’s all. You’ve been doing plenty of that lately. A bit too much, maybe, but there’s no helping that. 
You’ve been living out here with Tim for…shit. How long has it been? Almost a year, you think, but your perception of time is unreliable at best. It’s just one of the many things you lost when your world turned upside down.
That’s what it’s really about. The loss. Tim doesn’t like to talk about it, but you know you both feel it, him even more so than you. He was going to go to college, get a degree, and he’d be damn good at it, too. He was going to find a place of his own, maybe adopt a dog, a big old Saint Bernard like he had when he was a boy, the only type of housemate that wouldn’t annoy him. That’s what he’s told you, anyways. Not sober, of course, not even close; he’d never tell you anything that personal without at least a bit of alcohol in his system. He’s been drinking less since you showed up, though. You noticed he was cutting back a couple months after you moved in. You wonder if you’ll ever get him to open up like that again.
But those were Tim’s plans. He was already in his mid twenties when things really went south, you were barely out of high school when everything started. You didn’t really have plans. So…what are you mourning, exactly? 
You don’t really have an answer to that. 
You didn’t really have a set path for yourself. Your plan barely existed, and it’s feeble skeleton was little more than an intention to simply float around until something caught your eye. You’d find your way eventually, there was no need to worry. At least, that’s what you used to think. 
Now where do you go?
You didn’t have any real plans, no, and you can’t mourn something that never existed, but it there’s this heavy feeling that comes with knowing you’ll never be able to choose. 
That’s what it comes down to, you realize. Choice. 
No, you didn’t have any plans, but that was because you had all the options you could ever want. Now, you don’t have any plans because you’ve only got one. 
Tim does everything he can to keep you entertained out here. Hell, he risks his life every time he walks down the path to his truck to go to town for you, or when he just steps off the porch to refill the bird feeder he knows you love to watch. Nothing outside of these walls in these woods is safe. If it weren’t raining so hard, he’d tear you a new one for even sitting on the porch. 
It’s a miserable existence, but it’s so nice to have someone to be miserable with, even if he can’t change anything. 
You just wish that was enough to push away that yearning for more, that subtle thrumming ache that only wells up in your stomach late at night, that want that urges you to just take the truck and leave, to forget this cabin and Tim and everything in these godforsaken woods. 
But you can’t. 
You’d die. And even if you didn’t, the guilt of stranding Tim would eat you alive, especially knowing he’d kill himself before letting that thing get him. 
You don’t want to think about that. You push the thoughts away before they can take root in your mind. It’s better to just not consider that possibility at all. 
You jump when you hear the front door open. You look back to see Tim standing there, one hand buried in his pocket and the other still on the door handle. 
“The hell are you doin’ out here?” He huffs, “I been yellin’ for ya, thought you up and ran off.” 
You give him a weak smile, but you can’t keep it up for very long. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, curling up as if trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You mumble an apology, but don’t look at him. 
He pauses, then, and you can imagining his expression changing to confusion and then concern before he covers it up again. His footsteps come up behind you, the wooden porch creaking beneath him. His hand grabs the back of the rocking chair and forces it to still before he pulls it backward to get a look at you.
“…What’s up with you, kid?” 
You shrug. It’s an easier response than an explanation, but it doesn’t satisfy him at all. 
“C’mon, we both know that’s bullshit,” He says with a dry chuckle, and he’s entirely correct. “What’s goin’ on?”
You sigh, thinking for a moment about your answer. 
“…It’s just…I dunno. Do you ever, like…think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…you know…”
It’s a stammering, stumbling attempt at explaining yourself, but he understands. He nods, crossing his arms and leaning back against the house. 
“Yeah, sometimes,” He replies, scratching at his stubble, “But if I’m bein’ honest, it ain’t gonna do you any good. That sorta thing only gets ya down.”
He’s right about that, too. If only it were that easy to just stop. It’s just so hard not to wonder at least every once in a while, it’s human nature. You just wish you knew when to stop. You just wish you were able to ignore the ‘what if’s that piled up in the back of your mind until they couldn’t stand anymore and toppled over into a pathetic mess of rubble. They’ll crush you one day if you aren’t careful, but such an idea seems almost inevitable. 
“Do you think—“ You start, but stop short before you can get any further. Tim quirks a brow, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that skeptical face. 
“…Do I think what?” He asks. 
You hesitate to answer. Is this really a question you want to ask? If this starts an argument you won’t be able to take back, will it ruin the comfort you and Tim have finally managed to establish with each other? You can’t just not tell him now, though, or you’ll just piss him off more. He doesn’t care for secrets, but he can’t stand when someone wusses out of a conversation at the last second. 
“…Do you think if you had the chance you would…like, go back in time? If you could make it to where none of this ever happened, would you?”
You feel stupid asking that, and it doesn’t help that Tim is silent for far too long before he answers. You’re already regretting this. 
Tim finally opens his mouth, and he stammers for a few moments before his sounds turn into words.
“…I don’t really think I can answer that, kid. That’s a tough one.” 
He sounds monotone, almost uncaring, but you can tell he’s doing it on purpose
to conceal whatever he doesn’t want you to know he’s feeling. You finally turn to look at him with a look that says ‘Can you please try?’ 
His eyes widen for a moment, his shoulders tensing in that subtle way they only do when he’s scared. His lips part slowly, and it sounds like he’s forcing his next words out. 
“I don’t know. Maybe? I…”
He trails off, and you turn away again. Then there’s silence for another few moments. 
Then he’s beside your chair, slowly lowering himself to sit down and doing that annoyed groan he does anytime he has to strain his back. He takes a moment to get comfortable, and you see him reach for his pocket to grab a cigarette only to sigh in disappointment when he realizes he left them inside. You feel bad for smiling, but at least he won’t be able to hide behind his smoke the way he likes to when a conversation makes him uncomfortable. 
He accepts his fate, leaning back on his hands and staring out into the rain with you. 
“I might,” He finally says, “But it wouldn’t be an easy choice.” 
“Why not?” You ask, and for some reason he chuckles at that. 
“Good question. This isn’t how I expected things to end up, no one does, but…I couldn’t just up and leave this.” 
‘This’ he says. ‘This?’ That hardly answers your question. You quirk a brow at him, and he begrudgingly continues. 
“You know, I just…I’ve gotten attached to all this—“ 
“What’s this, exactly?” You interrupt, and he winces like he was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “I can’t imagine there being anything here worth sticking around for.”
“…There wasn’t. Not for a long time,” He says, and now it’s your turn to pause. 
“…What did you say?” 
“There wasn’t,” He repeats, “Not until…not when I was alone. But now…” 
‘You,’ you realize that’s what he’s trying to say, ‘You are the only thing worth staying for.’ 
For some reason, that hurts. Maybe you feel guilty that you ever thought about leaving him, or maybe you feel bad that you of all people are his only friend. The bar for happiness is really low around here. 
You slowly unfurl from your spot on the chair, letting your feet rest on the porch as you slump down a bit. 
“So…you’re saying you wouldn’t?”
You expected an immediate answer. Stupid of you, really. He’s hesitating again. You’d thought you’d get a quick yes or no. You’re not sure if this is better or worse. 
“I’m not…saying anything,” Tim assures you, “I’m just saying that…I’d at least have to think about it.” 
“Yeah, but you have to make a choice,” You say with an eye roll, and the words coming out more forceful than you intended. Fortunately, his stoney exterior deflects any vitriol you could spew at him. 
The silence that settles over you this time is heavy. It makes you slump even further down in your chair. You hate the silence that always follows when you say something that turned out far too mean. 
You don’t breathe until Tim speaks again.
“Okay, yeah…I would.” 
You don’t know how you feel about that answer, but you don’t have much time to think before he continues. 
“But only because I’d know where to find you this time.” 
That surprises you. You sit back up in your chair, looking down at him with an unmistakably confused look. 
“Huh?” You blurt out, and your cheeks warm a bit when he chuckles at your noise of bewilderment.
“I’d do it, yeah, but I couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself,” He explains, “I’d do it, but I wouldn’t abandon you. Now I know who you are, what you liked to do, where you’d hang out, all those things from before shit hit the fan. I just don’t want you to think I’d, ya know…forget about you like that. I’d come find you, that’s all. I think we’d find each other anyways, though.”
Something in your chest aches as he speaks, and it makes you want to curl up again, but you can’t move. You stare at him for a long few moments, and you’re lucky he doesn’t look up at you because you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. You can’t even blink. 
“I told you kid,” He adds, “I care about you. I always have.”
What do you say to that? 
You don’t know, so you stay silent. You want to say something, to return the monument of emotion he’s just offered to you, to somehow express reciprocity, but you don’t know how. You’re silent. 
You don’t move as Tim stands back up, cracking his back and stretching his legs. He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. 
“I gotta go start dinner,” He says curtly, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don’t spend too long out here. If you get sick, Imma say I told you so.” 
You nod, but give no further response. He pulls his hand away, and you think that’s the end of it, but just as you realize you haven’t heard him go to leave you feel him leaning over you. 
You tense. You’re not sure why, but you do. 
You feel him press a brief kiss to the top of your head before he pulls away again. It wasn’t even a kiss, really, he just pushed his lips against your head for a moment, but for that moment it was like everything you’d ever worried about up until that point was arbitrary. It doesn’t last long, but it lingers in the air like the smoke from Tim’s cigarettes as he pulls away and walks back into the house. 
You’re alone again.
Now what? 
You weigh your options for a moment, but once Tim’s footsteps disappear into the house it feels far too quiet out here, even with the rain beating down on the roof above you. 
You wait for only a few moments more to make sure you won’t seem too eager to follow him before you get up, lazily making your way back inside. 
You find yourself wondering again, this time about what Tim is making for dinner tonight, and you take a second to appreciate the pleasure in such simple problems. 
There are things that will never be now, and there’s no changing that.
But for tonight, this is pretty damn nice. 
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h3rmess-ii · 3 months
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GOJO AND YUUJI
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I just keep making myself more sad by the minute. I keep watching clips of jjk, and it just makes me think about cute things that make me sad.
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Their relationship is so cute, and I love how gojo took yuuji in and didn't hesitate to save him from execution after megumi's request. I feel like gojo sees a lot of himself in yuuji, and the three of them (megumi nobara and yuuji) are kind of a mirror image of shoko, geto, and gojo when they were younger. Shoko ends up getting kind of forgotten about, and I feel like this is manifested in the first years as the loss of nobara. I guess gojo went to great lengths to prevent a breakup like he had with geto, and in a way, he succeeded. nobara and the whole chair analogy where she says that she has seats in her heart and she shouldn't waste them on people that she doesn't know very well. then we see yuuji, megumi, and gojo sitting down in those seats when she's about to die. to me, this shows the bond they have formed is so strong, and its like they've fulfilled the happiness they needed in their relationship. But then again, as Yaga said, no sorcerer dies without regret.
Anyway, back to the point. Gojo and Yuuji are genuinely so similar, and the way Yuuji calls out when Gojo gets sealed breaks my heart. He didn't ask for any of this. None of this was his fault, and only Kenjaku is to blame here. His stupid ideals stripped Yuuji of his innocence. Give my poor boy a break. And megumi, too, they both don't deserve this kind of hurt 😔
JUST LOOK AT THE WAY YUUJI HUGS GOJO!! LIKE THAT WAS STILL ON THE FIRST PROPER DAY AFTER MEETING IT'S SO SO SO CUTE! They're such a mirror image of each other, and they get on so well. I love it.
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