I've been sitting on this and stewing on it for a while but I keep seeing it and it bothers me to no end and it's disability pride month so.
Stop erasing the muteness of characters in fanfic and headcannons.
So often I see fics or hcs where a character that's canonly mute or nonverbal or semiverbal is just suddenly completely able to talk normally and are just like...shy or soft spoken. It's messed up, and it's ableist.
Making a mute character a selective/situational mute is excusable in some cases, but if a characters muteness is a vital part of them, why are you changing that?
Why do you feel like you're so super Y/N special that a mute/nonverbal person would just get over it and fully talk to you because you're ✨special✨ ??? Or is just it that writing muteness is just inconvenient or annoying for you??
Sure, most mutes can speak, I certainly can and I certainly do when I'm comfortable and have the energy. But I'm not cured of my disorder because there's situations where I can talk or people that I can talk to. I'm still a mute, I still go nonverbal, that doesn't go away because it annoys someone or because I'm comfortable talking around some people.
Seeing muteness/nonverbality consistently erased across fandom is so fucking disheartening. It makes me feel even more that my muteness and/or nonverbality is annoying and inconvenient and something to be "fixed" than I already do.
Erasing a disability because you don't know how to write it or you think you or your oc is so goddamn special that it'll just be gone when your blorbo falls for you/them is ableist and it's fucked up. And real people with these conditions or disabilities are going to see that and feel like a burden in a place that's meant to free us from that feeling because we already deal with it every day out in the real world.
If you can't write it, figure it out or don't write that character at all. Get better.
Bo spent the entire bus ride back to Ambrose stewing.
He was pissed that he and Vincent are stuck on the after-school sports bus with all of the asshole basketball kids, pissed about the detention that he had to stay after school far, which then nessiciated the riding of the sports bus. He was pissed that stupid Marty Waters barely got a scolding for spreading those bullshit rumors, but Bo didn’t even hit him and still got written up for ‘inappropriate language’. He was pissed that his folks were gonna blow a gasket when the school called, if they hadn’t already.
But he wasn’t scared.
No, Bo didn’t get scared anymore. He learned to push down that feeling years ago. It felt better to be angry than it does to be scared, and he didn’t have the time to be scared, anyway; not when he’s got shit to do. Not when he’s got brothers to protect-Vincent from the asshole kids at school and Lester from their asshole parents-and homework to finish and yelling to drown out and almost-teenage boy shenanigans to get up to. He was busy, dammit.
The bus stopped in the middle of Main Street. Bo and Vincent were the last off, lingering behind the rest of the rowdy, whooping middle schoolers. They immediately broke off from the group and started up Main Street. The Sinclair house sat tall and imposing across from the House Of Wax, practically looming over Ambrose. Looming over Bo, at least.
There was no Dad marching down the sidewalk towards them, which Bo took as a good thing. That meant the school hadn’t called yet, or at least if they did, no one picked up the phone. Thank god. He hated it when Dad got angry enough to ‘discipline’ him in public. It didn’t happen often, because people stared and sometimes attempted to intervene, quiet suggestions of “I don’t think you need to grab him around like that, Victor.” and “Boys that age swear sometimes, you shouldn’t get to upset about it, Mr. Sinclair.”
Dad hated that too, though; people meddling in his family's private business, talking like they know anything about anything at all. Bo hated that, too, but in a different way. He didn’t mind Mrs. Allistor gently telling Dad off in the grocery store, or when last years gym teacher noticed his raw ankles and asked if ‘everything was okay at home’. A small, secret part of him found comfort in it, in the knowledge that there were a few people in town who gave even a fraction of a shit about him.
It’s the other kids that really made him steam.
Vincent tapped him on the elbow before he could fall too far down that rabbit hole. He could always tell when Bo is going into that blazing, violent place in his mind. Sometimes he could even pull him out of it.
Probably 20 yards from the house, something burst out from the woodline, filthy and grinning and running at full speed.
“HEY!” Lester shouted, sprinting up to his brothers like there was a fire under his ass. He just barely stopped himself from slamming into Vincent, then began to ramble a mile a minute in that way small children love to do.
“On the bus Andy Beamer asked me if I wanted to go down to the creek with him and I did so we went and we caught frogs and I had this frog in my hand and it jumped out and landed on Andy’s chest and he screamed then it hopped away but I chased it and went over this log but I tried to jump and I fell and I got mud in my mouth and Andy laughed at me but then he had to go home so I came home but I saw these worms and-”
“Lester!” Bo exclaimed, cutting him off. God, he loved him to death but that kid could talk.
Lester stared at him with huge brown puppy dog eyes. Bo sighed through his nose.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah! Why?”
Lester looked at the twins like he hadn’t just told them he’d gone ass over kettle in the creek. Bo looked at Vincent, just to make sure that they were on the same page, but Vincent was zeroed in on Lester's bulging corduroy pocket. Come to think of it, that pocket did seem a bit odd.
“Are there worms in your pocket?”
“There are!” Lester yelled, ratcheting up the volume again. “That’s what I wanted to tell you guys! I found these cool worms in the woods!”
Lester plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of squirming, wriggling tan worms. Bo thought they just looked like regular old earthworms, probably washed up by the recent bout of rain. One look at Lesters excited grin, though, and he couldn’t stop himself from playing along.
“Those are cool, Les. You found ‘em in the woods?” Lester was always finding things in the woods, bones and bugs and snakes and old coke bottles.
“I did! They look like earthworms but I don’t think they are! Guess why? Because I found them all huddled together! Isn’t that weird?”
“It is.” Bo found himself leaning closer to look at the worms, and saw Vincent doing the same in his peripheral vision. Lester’s excitement was contagious.
Vincent pulled back from the worms and hiked his backpack further up on his shoulder. One look at him told Bo they were thinking the same thing.
“You can’t take those inside. You have to let them go.” Vincent said.
“I thought I could maybe keep one as a pet, or maybe two so it won’t be lonely. But I don’t think worms get lonely because Andy said his older sister said that worms don’t think and so they can’t get lonely.”
Bo, admittedly not an expert on earthworm psychology, thought that sounded pretty solid.
“Lonely or not, Mom will have a cow if she catches you with those. They’ve gotta go.” A big part of protecting his siblings was getting them to maintain a low profile. Coming home covered in mud and sporting pet worms were not a part of that low profile.
Lester’s face fell. Bo felt guilt creeping up his throat. He’s a little kid! He should be allowed to do gross little kid stuff!
Vincent tapped Lester’s wrist to get his attention. “You could put them in Mom’s garden. That’s kind of like having a pet that lives outside.”
Lester immediately brightened again. “I could!” He turned and raced the rest of the way to the house. Bo could see him crouched where the petunias bloom in the springtime, gently releasing the worms.
Vincent shrugged and started towards the house. Bo watched Lester in the garden for another moment, then followed.
“Come on, Les!” Bo called. “I’ll hose you off. You stink like frog shit.” They all knew that if Lester tracked mud all over the wood floors, it wouldn’t matter that he’d put worms down.
Vincent held out his hand for Bo’s backpack, then headed inside. Bo went around to the side yard, Lester trailing behind him.
Lester started talking again as Bo turned on the hose and let the water spurt over his hand.
“I heard too that when you cut a worm in half it grows into two worms! Isn’t that cool? I don’t know if it’s true, though, because I guess that means that one worm doesn’t have a face. I wouldn’t cut a worm in half ever, even if someone told me to.”
“Take off your shirt.” Bo said, turning the hose on his brother. “And flip down, lemme get the shit out of your hair.”
“It’s gonna be cold!” Lester whined, breaking out the puppy dog eyes again. Bo rolled his.
“You can wear my jacket if you want, just come here.”
That seemed to do it. Lester pulled his mud soaked shirt off and stepped forward, eyes and mouth shut tightly as he bent under the spray.
When Lester was decently clean and the water was turned off, Bo made to pull his sweatshirt off. It really wasn’t that cold, but Lester was wet and Bo had promised. Just as he was pulling it over his head, a scream that could shatter glass sounded from across the yard.
“Oh my God!” Trudy shrieked, dashing to Lester and grabbing him by the shoulders. “What’s going on here? Where’s your shirt? Why are you wet?”
She released Lester and rounded on Bo. Of course she did. Bo felt the anger he’d been stewing in since 2pm begin to lick up the back of his throat. He wasn’t scared, he was angry. He wasn’t scared.
“What the hell are you doing?! Are you trying to give him hypothermia? What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she screamed. Bo set his jaw and took it. This was the routine.
“I fell in the creek with Andy-” Lester began in a small voice. Trudy silenced him with a vague wave of her hand.
“Be quiet. Beauregard, do you think this is fucking funny?” Bo knew that questions were a trap when Mom was angry. Answer and get hit for talking back, be quiet and get hit for ignoring her.
Trudy didn’t give him a chance to respond either. She grabbed him by the bicep and began tugging him back around the front of the house.
“God, you’re in for it. Wait until your father hears about this, I swear! I work so hard, I leave to create fucking art and this is what I get!”
As Bo was pulled through the yard, he turned and saw Lester, holding his balled up, dirty shirt. When they passed through the front door and living room he saw Vincent, standing on the stairs, holding a clean towel. He’d get Lester, and they’d both be okay.
Bo set his jaw, tuned out Trudy’s soprano screaming, and was pulled into the kitchen.
Bo x reader where the reader used to live in town and be friends with him and Vincent then comes back because they wanted to and find bo but bo doesn't remember till he sees the bracelet you made for the both of them (the readers has Bo's name on it.
I always think about scenarios like this with Bo, you’re so smart for this anon<3 I made it to where Lester didn’t know you, making you out as just a reg victim and Vincent isn’t really mentioned in the story.. this feels very biased but I’m in love with Bo so 🙌 (NOT PROOF READ)
Dwelling on the past was saved for when Bo was alone, truly alone. Dwelling as in the scars on his mind and body slowly reopening. There’s also the… reminiscing. The parts where Bo will wall subconsciously slower by a certain house or land. He remembers the meet ups he’d have with his school ‘friends’ or the places he’d run away to. There was always this old lady who seemed to overlook what everybody rumored about Bo as a little boy, bringing out home made snacks for him. That house was now a fabricated version of the comforting place, the blood stains hidden away forever.
That didn’t mess with him as much as the flowers that grew near by the house did. It’s not like he really cared for taking care of plants or a garden, but he knew what they meant. Who they represented. Bo only liked the way they bloomed because of what you had told him. You, his true first crush and friend. You’re mom and dad owned the only flower shops in Ambrose, giving leeway to flower seeds “borrowed’’ by you. Taking it upon yourself, you mothered the flower until it blessed the world with it’s color and shape. Of course, you were loaded with facts about it, but Bo only listened because you seemed to bloom when talking about this. Your colors shined the brightest in the Louisiana sun while you smelled the flower.
That was a core memory, his best friend that had left the town. His first true heart break, the one added onto the pile in the back of his brain. This life required a certain type of blockage. One where he had to disconnect with the ethical values and memories. It’s almost like he forgot all about his past life that didn’t include his parents. He wouldn’t be able to point out anybody that could’ve lived in the town. This also includes any sentimental material items. Besides his fathers ring and some of his mothers jewelry, all other possessions was lost after he went to foster care with his brothers.
Bo sighed, air quickly escaping his nose as he prepares for the victims heading his way, trying to place his mind back in the present. Vincent had gotten signal from Lester that there was a singular person with car troubles heading their way. This is going to be quick and simple, depending on how quick Bo wanted to discard of the person. He was seated behind the counter to the mechanic shop, fidgeting with his truckers hat. There was already sweat forming on the back of his neck and forehead, collecting on the collar of his suit and hat.
You could say the same, regretting not taking the invitation of a ride up here from the odd guy you met. Your shoulders were definitely sunburnt, the sun blazing your form as you walked the oh so familiar roads. Your body was tense, not just from the long walk, but also the anxiousness of seeing your old home town and old friend. Your bracelet stuck in place, making its own tan line on your wrist. You could never forget Bo, his prescience always at the front of your mind. You couldn’t help the extra sweat forming just at his name mentioned. Your body heated up when the truck guy had said Bo was just up ahead.
Anticipation filled you both, your form coming into Bos view while the shop could now be spotted by you. You could almost run to the store, checking every room if it was true he was still here. You played with bracelet now, even more anxious now that everything was coming back to you. The memories, the feelings. Bo simply cracked his knuckles, standing from his seat and heading for the shop door. His southern charm was present, his infamous smirk greeting you.
You already knew it was Bo, his stance and build all too familiar. You smiled, slowing your fast walk as you took in his matured features. You wanted to say so many things, why you left, how you felt, how you remembered him and Vincent after all- “hey there, what can I do for ya.” Your smile faded as your eyebrows furrowed. Did he not remember you, or was he playing around with you.
You wanted to believe it was just a small joke, a little taken back at the lack of remembrance. What if this was just a guy who looked almost exactly like Bo with the same name. You opened your mouth to say something, anything to make him remember. He stood there as well, raising his eyebrows at your hesitation. You seemed to be in deep thought, so he took the time to look over you. He got down to you hands, the way one pinched at the small bracelet with letters.
It was his name. The letters spelled his name. He squinted his eyes, looking back up to your face, and then it just fell into place. Your face was present in so many of his memories, but it’s like there was also a blank space. Now you were radiant, flooding him with all the time you spent together. As if you could sense the realization just from his face, you offered a small smile.
“Well I’ll be damned..” Bo kept his smirk, making his way to you. You took no time in hugging the man close, a slight grip on the back of his mechanics suit. Bo had felt as if he had drank your scent, drunk from the heat of your body on his. There were no words as you guys bathed in each other’s presences. You didn’t care for heat anymore, or how your shirt stuck to your skin. You could only focus on the way Bo still slowly rocked when you guys held a long hug. The way his hand held the back of your head.
When you guys broke, he held your shoulders, looking over your face. “I haven’t seen a face like yours in years, almost slipped my mind on who you were.” His calloused hand finding your wrist with the bracelet. You watched him, wanting to savor this moment. “Good thing one of us knows how to keep up with things.” He smiled as he took in the old piece of jewelry, feeling a little guilty for losing his.
You scoffed, gently placing your hand on his face, a smile permanently placed on your face. “I can always make another one, this time I’ll weld it together so you can’t lose it .” You both laughed, pulling each other close once more. Bo wasn’t just glad that he could put a face on his good memories, he was relieved to know that you never forgot him or the town.
It gave him something along the lines of a possessive and appreciation feel. He was obligated to keep you here, be with him and his brothers. Bo uncovered the veil, and he saw you.
Okay okay so I have a question for you. Do you think Asa/ The Collector cares much about looks when he’s choosing his victims or picking who is favorite is. Or do you think it’s more based on personality/obedience and stuff like that.
I just wonder if he cares about like societal beauty standards like being thin or super pretty or if there’s more to it. (Like I want to think that I could become the favorite but also I’m not like supermodel pretty and certainly don’t have a perfect body or anything)
Anon, I have the same thoughts, even with all the slashers. I believe, and this is my personal opinion, but I think Asa has a mix between personality and looks. For the obedience part, it’s preferred if your more obedient, but either way you are going to submit to him no matter what. I can see Asa looking for someone whose easily manipulated and tricked, but there’s also the ones that can put up a mental fight. He’ll like having that subconscious control over your mind as he breaks you down in ways you wouldn’t expect. But for looks, I think he’s the type to follow the ones that catch his eye, but if your personality doesn’t match what he’d like, you’d just be another tortured victim.
Butttt, if you really catered towards his personality type, he’s going to make you his perfect specimen. He doesn’t care for body type, but he’ll dress you up to what he wants, altering the way you look for his own preference.
All in all, I think it really depends on your whole self, personality and all. God help whoever that is 💀, cause it’ll be no walk in the park to be this mans ‘favorite.’ You will be locked away, your only human interaction being his tricks and manipulation:)
Asa Emory’s reaction to the reader trying to tickle him❤️
This idea is so cute and I could imagine it with slashers like Thomas, Lester, or Jason.. but Asa would literally kill you. Just him breaking bones. Don’t know which ones but your done for💀
Could you please write Jesse proposing to his s/o?
Jesse Cromeans ~ proposing to his S/O
(Reader wears a dress in this) also I’m uh back 🥲 my writing skills have went somewhere I’ll never know, but please have this!
It had floated around in his mind for longer than you’d imagine, just one of those things you think on. Marriage was a different course in Jesse’s life style, but not unwelcome. He’s never had a true, sound proof plan to propose to you. He felt almost intimidated by the whole thing, wanting you to feel over joyous but not overwhelmed. He couldn’t even think about you saying no without nervously wringing his hands and sighing.
It took him months before he actually decided on a ring. He’s went through magazines to walk ins, even fucking e-bay. He needed a big range for something like this, not wanting to miss out on the perfect jewel for you. He could envision it hugging your ring finger, shining bright like your smile.
Jesse always carries it with him, in his pants pocket or jacket ones. He’s constantly searching for the right time, so it’s best to stay prepared. You two traveled all over the place, trying to delight in the time you had together. You were smiling from everything, laughing at his jokes and whatever you thought about. You were so free it made him feel light, hand fiddling with the ring in his pocket.
You resided in one of the more wealthy stores, trying on clothes that you and him picked out. Mostly him shoving pieces of clothing towards you, along with a push to the rooms. He sat on the couch, legs open and arms across the back of the couch, he watched and admired. You looked good in everything, your favorites style complimenting you.
You came out in a darker piece of clothing, automatically gaining his praise just from the color. He looked you up and down with a head tilt, drunken gaze as he reached your face. Sometimes he just considered you soulmates, married without the physical reminder. But, as always, he needed it to be proper, for there to be multiple marks that you were tied.
You shuffled under his gaze, shyly smiling as you walked closer. “Do you like it?” You already knew the answer, trying to pull more from him. He always played along with you, his hand following along the hem of the dress when you were close enough. He was leaned forward now, wanting to nothing more than praise you in such a simple dress in front of everyone. But, he decided on just sliding his hands on your waist, feeling of the fabric as a way of saying he liked it.
It didn’t matter if you put some back, he would’ve bought them all anyways. You carried bags of clothes, all different brands too. It was most definitely a shopping spree, and it made you wonder what the occasion was. Well, it’s not the first time Jesse had you buy whatever you wanted for no reason. Yet, you always thought there might be something else, something more personal.
It was noon when you arrived home, Jesse bringing the car to the driveway with a slow stop. Instead of immediately unbuckling, you sat still just as he did. He seemed to be in thought, his hands slowly slipping off the wheel. You looked over at him, wanting to say anything to break the silence. His hands seemed to do the job, signing to you to hurry in and come back out in that ‘one dress.’ You wanted to question, to dig deeper, but you did what he said.
This gave Jesse time to.. prepare himself. He could almost wipe his hands on his pants because of the sweat. What was he scared of? Possible hesitance, or humiliation? Nothing could scare Jesse, but this… this intimidated him. No matter, the ring in his pants pocket awaited it’s home. Looking back at you coming from the front door, you looked perfect. He wanted you to be confident and feel good when he did this.
The car light came on when you hoped in, slowly shutting off as you buckled yourself back in. A slow breath made it’s way inside you, hand playing with the bottom belt. “Should I know where we’re heading, or is it another one of your surprises?” You smiled over at him, catching him already staring at you. Butterflies were going haywire in you, watching as he snapped out his daze, his hand coming up to move a piece of your hair away from your face. His thumb wiped across your bottom lip, lingering before he put the car in reverse and backed out the drive away once more. It made you consider what could actually being going on since Jesse failed to give you any give away. Y
The street lights flooded into the car every now and then, the radio on low volume as you enjoyed the moment. You were curious on where Jesse was heading, whether it would be somewhere new or one of your favorite places you’ve been. Your boyfriend was silent on the way, well, more than usual. This slight difference could make you nervous, but you looked over it. Little did you know, the silence was a cover up of what was truly going on in his mind. He felt as though if you touched his skull, it would burn your hand. His thoughts were flying everywhere as he got closer to the park.
He chose the park because of the lights and beautiful trail ways. Pulling up to one of the many parking spots closest to the entrance, he hoped out to open the door for you. His hand guided you out, closing the door for you. These gestures always warmed your heart, easing those worried thoughts. It was quite odd of him to make you wear a dress on a trail walk, but the view was good. The trees laced over each-other to cover the sky with a nature ceiling, fairy-lights hugging against the trunks. The walk was most enjoyable, Jesses grip on your hand making it just right.
Knocking you from your peaceful thoughts, you were almost halfway though when the man beside you slowed to a stop. This cause you tot turn around, a slight eyebrow raise. He looked down at you as always, both hands coming to your shoulders. What in the world was he doing? You couldn’t do anything but just watch what he did. His large hand slid down your arms, enveloping your hands before he kneeled down. Shock and adrenaline rushed though your body at this. You knew what he was doing by now, the small signs coming to light.
Jesses heart felt as though he just ran a whole mile, his right knee digging into the ground. He was finally here, looking up at you on the rare situations. He was so close, looking between your lips to your eyes, he just needed to reach for the ring. The silver and bejeweled band was revealed, looking extremely small between his fingers. Your gasp was choked, tears stinging your eyes. You almost couldn’t believe it, like it never occurred to you that Jesse would legally marry you. This expensive engagement ring would say other wise.
He let go of your hand to speak to you, a little frustrated at that part. “I need you to be mine in every way. Soul, mind, body..” he looked down at you left hand, slowly bringing it to his mask less lips. He looked back up at you, watching your reactions. He couldn’t tell whether this silence was good or bad, his ability to read people ineffective. He almost wanted to stand up and walk away, the anticipation getting to him. You were the only one who could make him feel such anxious feelings, you had that hold over him.
You’re eyes were stuck on his, mouth opening and closing as your vision blurred. All you could do was smile, nodding your head vigorously while you held your hand out. He quickly slipped it on, raising back up to sweep you of your feet. He wanted you close in this moment, holding you close in every way he could. Of course there will be excessive planning, multiple agreements and disagreements. That didn’t really matter to either of you right now as Jesse held you right against his chest.
Your scent filled his nose, such a familiar and grounding smell. This was something new for him, and he’d rather it be you than anyone else. In fact, he couldn’t imagine anybody else being here, causing him to feel, act and think life this. That’s how he knows this is true to him, this love. The love that led to hazardous thinking and rash decisions; the type to make you blind but see at the same time.
Imagine being 4 years old and your parents force you to constantly wear a mask, even around the house, because they don’t want to see your face, much less have anyone else see you. Imagine growing up looking physically different and your family re-enforcing that feeling by making you hide a part of yourself. I can’t even begin to imagine what this kind of treatment did to little Vincent’s psyche.
#it’s so sad but so fascinating#i really have to get around to editing and posting my analysis but#the way he immidiately tends to his mask in the kitchen when bo rebuffs him implies he considers it akin to actual physical injury#:((((#house of wax
-@venusanatomica
Vincent is three.
Momma holds the wax face up to his, testing the measurements, heating and pinching and fixing wherever she needs to. Vincent sits still even though the wax is too hot when she presses it into his hairline, trying to get the face to stay. When Bo squirms, he gets hit. So Vincent sits polite and quiet.
“There we go.” Momma takes one last look before peeling the face back. She turns it, holds it in both hands so Vincent can see. She looks him in the eye and speaks clearly. “This is yours now, Vincent, okay? You always wear this. This is your face, understand? This is your face. You have to take real good care of it. We don’t want our face to get broken, do we?”
Vincent’s little fists tighten and and loosen on the seat of the chair, gaze going from the face to Momma. It’s his. It’s his face. Can he touch it?
“Here…” Momma leans in and uses her lighter, squishes the face into his skin and hair again, then blows to make it stick. “Your brother had to sit still for a long time so I could make this. Looks just how you’re supposed to.”
Vincent blinks behind the face. It’s warm under here. Warm and safe. Secret. Does everyone hide secrets behind their face? He raises a hand and brushes his fingertips across the smooth surface of the right side. Just like Bo’s.
Bo sat still for this?
Bo hates sitting still.
“You keep that on,” Momma repeats earnestly. “Always. That’s you now, Vincent.” And then she smiles bright. “Don’t you like it? Isn’t that better? You’re so handsome.” Her fingers in his hair… “I love you so much, sweetie.”
Jason & Bo with an s/o who’s on SSRI antidepressants please? It’s my first week on them, I vomited once, other than that I’m super super sleepy and have energy, also love to show affection - pats & hugs! <3
Thank you for response <3 love ya, stay hydrated and eat <333
Proud of ya bud!! Thanks for the reminder and kind words<3 love you too:))
Jason and Bo with S/O who takes anti-depressants
Bo Sinclair
He had noticed the sudden appearance of a orange pill bottle on your nightstand. You rested peacefully on your side of the bed. Still in his boxers and a fresh shirt, he bent down, his knees popping with a wince. Slowly, he peaked over at your soft features as he reached for the bottle.
He let his face relax with a soft grin, his attention back on the orange bottle as he read the foreign name.
“Anti-depressants huh… I should probably try these out.” He just scoffed at himself, placing them back down to their original position as he continued getting ready. The bottle had seemed a little empty, letting him know you had been taking them.
He smiled to himself as the black crew neck shirt squeezed his head through; he was proud to say the least.
Still, there were times when he would treat you like one of the visitors, being all flirty then aggressive the next. It was confusing and distressing, not helping with the overwhelming emotion paired with your new medication.
It was a sick feeling, nauseous as you tried to wipe down the counter and table after dinner. You couldn’t stop it, a burp came then you were leaning over the sink emptying whatever had been eaten before.
The distraction worked for your mind but not your body, your stomach cramping as you tried to wipe your hair from your eyes and mouth.
You remembered being taught to keep your neck straight as you threw up, it helped with breathing. Deep breaths were taken with cough, swallowing the primal panic and controlling yourself. The tears swelled around your eyes, dampening your eyelids as you squeezed them shut.
Bo had just watched, eyebrows furrowing more as he just paused. His hands dropped from where he was waving them around, observing you but from a distance. He’s thee up plenty of times int he sink, but he never got over the smell.
Wiping your mouth with the other side of the rag, you stood up with a shaky breath. No words were spoken when he came over to pinch the fabric from your hand as he guided you to the couch. With a cup of water and a blanket from the chair, he said no more that night or the next day.
He’s taken note of how you talk more paired with lots of naps. He’s caught you talking your head off while works around to shop, putting things up on the racks in various spots.
In the middle of placing an old screwdriver in a cardboard box, he slowed down tilting his head as he relished in the quiet. He leaned back, checking on you from the aisle straight across from the counter. You had your head laid down on your crossed arms, slow breathing and not a sound.
He shook his head, a small smile on his face as he continued his job. This had happened more than once, yet he was happy to hear you open up more and joke around.
He also loves the way you shuffle over to him, crashing your head on his chest without moving anything. He sighs and takes this as a sign to hold you for a few minutes before sleep takes over.
Bo likes how you bring him lunch twice a day now, always saying you had just made extra from the day before. Def wasn’t complaining about more food you managed to cook.
He’s the type to ask if you’ve taken all you need when the day comes to an end, kinda like a last minute reminder. Sometimes he’ll forget, gently shaking you awake. You simply nod if you remembered and he leaves you be. If you haven’t, he sighs, getting out of bed and trudging to the kitchen to get a cup of water for you. He cares even if it’s late.
Jason Voorhees
He’s doesn’t know much about your medication, but he knows your emotions play along with it. Based on this, he’s very strict about it since he wants you to feel like yourself.
He’s very strict with it. He needs to make you a schedule that’s satisfies you and your needs. Totally cooks you a meal his mother had made so you can eat before you take the medication. Always on time too, it’s like he can sense when it’s time for you to take them.
A few days in, Jason and you diligently cleaned around the cabin, your weekly routine. It never truly got messy, unless one of you cooked or had a special occasion, so it was fairly easy.
As a treat to yourselves, a walk out the lake was always good. Hand in hand, you both took your time to arrive there, basing in the sun and warmth from the love. It was quiet exempt the birds and wildlife, but you could feel sweat forming on your lower back.
First it was a small burp, you quickly let go of Jason’s hand to step to the side of the trail. You wrenched over, heaving a little before eventually throwing up. He was just as quick the wrap a careful arm around your shoulders, the other hand pulling your hair away from your face.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes a little wet and your breathing faster. It was unexpected but the last time you had done it. Jason had kept an eye on you the whole time; when you undressed to get in the water, when you got dressed and sat on the deck, hell even waiting for you to call to him when you excused yourself.
More cuddles were always welcome to him, especially the times where you would simply take his hand to the couch to hold him. Himself between your legs as his head lay against your stomach. Arms scratched down his back and on his shoulders, drowning him in your sweet warmth and kindness.
Every time he finds you forcing yourself to stay awake, he only signs that it’s okay to take a nap. He wants you to feel good, even if your almost always tired. Might even take naps with you if he has time. Even the special ones out in the field at the dead of night. Those are the special ones to him, it lets Jason know you trust him enough to protect in your most vulnerable state.
Then there are the days where you’re so talkative, it almost deters from your previous death like slumber. That was the day he learned about the entirety of your favorite show and how you have an attachment to your favorite characters. Of course, he asks questions, trying to squeeze as much socialization as he can out of you.
He’ll sit you down, turning his whole body to you as he simply listens. Loves when you talk with your hands, showing the most emotions when your staring off and simply: talking. He loves it so much, just as he loves you.
this is so random but i took that house of wax quiz you made and i have genuinely never laughed harder
I didn’t make it, credits go to the perosn I @ below on the post, but thank you so much for taking the time to do it and read what I said. I’m telling you some people have to best way to explain shit, like how they explain they’re feelings for Bo concludes his whole simp squad
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
pixelskylines
