alright u want a real grimey dust bunny from the bad corner of my skull u can't reach with the vacuum??
what if Bo gave Vincent and Lester a key to the dungeon and said this one's in me boys, visiting hours are from 10-3, use protection and put a sock on the door
ahhhh brainrot brainrot horror terror brainrot BRAINROT 🥴💀
his brothers always get his hand-me-downs and he hasn't quite grown out of this one yet, but they can borrow it for a bit
dead dove do not eat smutty nonsense thotz under the cut dhsuhjfdshjdsfh
thinkin about......how everything is just an inescapable series of events that happen to you. just WAKING UP to find a man wearing a mask standing silently in front of you
and first, you do the whole routine of trying to reason w/this strange new intrusion to the room. bc the face he’s wearing looks familiar but he hasn’t put his hands on you yet, seems hesitant to even approach you. and that isn't like the face you know.
when vincent does eventually touch you, it’s to move your limbs like you’re some kind of inanimate object. you’re not sure if he even hears you when you speak—he gives no indication if he does. he touches you and he doesn’t say anything...and somehow that feels worse than the constant barrage of insults and harsh words.
his brother won’t let him immortalize you yet and he’d like to know why. he touches you like he’s looking for something, like he’s trying to figure out how your bones connect to sinew, how far they can bend.
you wish he would say something, but he never does.
he brings you to the edge over and over again, but it feels like less of a tease and more of an exploration. you're trembling as you ask him what his name is. he doesn't tell you. he leaves with a satchel full of sketches and a lock of your hair.
lester shows up the next day with a bag of greasy chicken nuggets and drops them on the mattress. he gives you a lopsided smile and asks if you remember him. he’s not sure what that boy’s been feedin’ you down here, darlin’, but you ain’t lookin’ so good! he tries to skate around the circumstances that brought you here. he brought cards. you know how to play rummy? you feel a bit like you’re on a blind date, scarfing down lukewarm chicken nuggets as he deals you out a hand. he lets you win and does a poor job of pretending that isn't what he’s doing. his hand claps down on your knee, fingertips ghosting at the edge of your skirt. you're so sweet, you're so pretty. come a lil' closer, baby. don't be a stranger.
later, when your knees are knocking against his chest, he brushes the hair out of your face. tells you that he's never seen anythin' like you. he's one lucky sonofabitch. and there's a tenderness to it all that spears through your side like a fucking knife. because there's nothing tender about this. you kiss him because it's something to do. because you do remember him.
when the door unlocks on the third day, it’s bo. he wants to know if you had fun. bets you didn’t even miss him. gives you his best wounded expression, shaking his head. he’s hurt, baby. and you rush to tell him you did miss him, you really did. he calls you a liar. you wish you were one. pulls you into his lap, whispering into your ear. did you like it? did you cum? what were you thinkin' about? you thinkin' 'bout it now, baby?
