#cw missing person

[persimmonsimmer]

“I thought everyone knew.”

“People know less than you give them credit for, and what they think they know is often wrong. That’s why I don’t like to rely on gossip. …I know it’s none of my business,” Carl added, “but I have to admit, I’m curious. And—to make myself sound just a little less abhorently selfish—I really do believe it helps to talk things out.”

He might be right. It might be good to talk to someone who wasn’t walking on eggshells to avoid upsetting her like her parents, or veiling their disappointment in her with sisterly concern like Leonor. A friend.

She began, slowly at first, with dinner at the Campbell’s. Carl was a good listener, absorbing her words quietly but not impassively, speaking up only to encourage her to continue.

“I never meant for him to leave his wife,” she insisted. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I was upset, and it just did.”

Carl nodded. “That story of Anna’s really shook you up, hm?”

“I guess so.”

“What happened with Anna’s lover—from what I’ve heard, it sounds a lot like what happened with Miguel’s father.”

It still hurt to think about Griff. “I’ve never been able to make sense of it. I keep thinking that one day it will all click into place, and I’ll understand what was going through Griff’s head that night. How he could propose to me and then run off the very next day. It just doesn’t make sense. Even if he was having doubts.” Citlali swallowed the painful lump that had risen in her throat. “Sometimes I wonder if there was something else, something he didn’t mention. Something that could explain why he had to leave without telling me, why he was acting so strangely—“

“Acting strangely how?” It was the first time Carl had interrupted her.

“Just… withdrawn. Anxious. The night before he disappeared it felt like things changed in an instant. We were talking, and then suddenly it was like he couldn’t wait to get away from me. And then, the next day, he wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t see me at all. And the day after that, he was gone.”

“And what else?” Carl pressed, eyes lit up with an unsettling gleam. The intensity that had entered his voice scared her. “Did you notice anything else unusual? Anything you couldn’t explain at the time?”

Citlali hugged her knee to her chest, a shiver passing through her. “Like what? I don’t… what are you suggesting?” She couldn’t keep a note of wariness out of her voice.

Carl’s demeanor changed so quickly that she almost believed she’d imagined the fire in his eyes, the stiff set of his jaw. His features rearranged themselves into their familiar mild lines, his expression one of sympathy and apology.

“I’m so sorry, Citlali,” he said. “It wasn’t my intention to dredge up painful memories, or imply anything about Griff’s disappearance. You get used to hearing some pretty fantastical stories on the road... I guess I got carried away. The fact is, I’m too nosy for my own good. It can be handy in my line of work, but it can also make me an insensitive ass. Please accept my apology.”

“No... It’s OK. I understand,” she said slowly. She was eager to forget the uneasy feeling Carl’s questions had raised in her. “Part of me wants to believe that Griff had a good reason for leaving, or even that he didn’t go willingly, because that would mean he didn’t leave because of me. But what reason could there be? I have to stop trying to think up excuses for him.” She smiled wanly at her own foolishness.

“It’s just... I thought he was my soulmate,” she continued. “Maybe that sounds silly to you, but we practically grew up together. I think I had a crush on him from the first time I met him. ...Do you believe in soulmates?”

“Not as such.”

Citlali waited, but he seemed content to leave it at that. “Why not?”

He gave a short laugh. “You’re a little bit nosy yourself, you know. Maybe that’s why we get along. ...Well, I guess the idea of a predetermined soulmate just never resonated with me. I was almost married once—surprised? Ha. It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.

“In my experience, there always comes a time when two people who love each other have to decide whether to or not they want to keep loving each other. And not just once. Every time things get hard. To me, real love isn’t finding the perfect person for you and living happily ever after. It’s choosing to keep trying.”

Citlali thought about that. “That’s not very romantic. Or... maybe it is. In a way. Something about choosing someone over and over is kind of nice. ...I don’t know. Maybe believing in soulmates is stupid.”

“I didn’t say that,” Carl said gently. “I could be wrong, too. Maybe only the Watcher knows. ...But here, there’s no reason you should be forced to listen to an old man rambling on about love. I’ve probably kept you away for too long as it is. We should head back.”

[slenderman-apologist]

I found this website that gives you prompts and deletes your writing if you don't write for over 10 seconds, and i kept making every story somehow related to Slenderman.

AND SINCE THIS IS A CRP BLOG (MAINLY) IM SO POSTING THEM

CW: 1st story, paranoia, a person goes missing. 2nd story, murder, paranoia, psychosis, nightmares, 3rd story, no warnings^^

1st short story,

They found his diary under his bed, and with little to no hesitation his worried friends started reading it. Within a few pages they started noticing these small untidy doodles on the sides and corners of the page as the writing got messier and messier.

They first paid no mind to it but as they skimmed over the pages they started noticing a pattern of only high leaning oak trees or these weirdly tall and disproportionate stick figures being drawn. Not to mention the entries got more and more worrying in it’s contents, their dear, now missing friend was only talking about his day in short bullet points and then in a long paragraph of this “it” (as he referred to it) has been following his every movement, a list of times he has caught “it” looking at him.

One friend at this point got way too unnerved by the contents of the journal and strongly suggested the other friend stop reading and return to investigate it more later; but the other friend denied, being weirdly intrigued by the uncanniness and horror of the diary. Little did he know this would be the cause of his and his friend’s demise.

2nd short story,

She had made a poor job of hiding the damage. She couldn't help but smile awkwardly as she hid the knife and her bloody hands behind her back, trying to convince her own "hallucination" that she did not commit first degree murder out of pure insanity.

It was so stupid, so dumb and so horribly wrong and disappointing at the same time, she tried to be such a good person, good grades in uni, clean house, good social status, a nice relationship with her family, she tried so hard it was going good, it was going great, she was doing so well and there it fell straight down the well, as she descended into madness.

She was weak. She was manipulable, she did it. She did what it said. All she needed was a little push, just a few months of sleepless nights or slumber filled with horrors. A little social isolation, just a small amount of suspicion that maybe others were in on it. Maybe others saw him too, maybe they all were working against her with him. She couldn't help it, whenever she was near this person she just had this overbearing urge to kill him, and since up until this point she didn't, she had to leave the room or even the building with a horrible anxiety attack. It was the consequence of her actions, disobedience is not well rewarded. But she won't have to worry about that now.

3rd short story,

He hadn't meant to scare the child. He genuinely didn't, and it's the first time that's happened in a good while. He didn't want to hurt the child either, he was so small, fragile and scared, too little of a challenge for the creature to feel good about eating. Ok, maybe he just simply wasn't hungry, it had to be admitted; he liked to stay true to himself. But what to do about the frozen-in-movement little boy standing in front of him, afraid to even blink fearing if he does his life would be over.

He moved his disproportionate “hand” towards him slowly in order not to scare the boy and took his hand. Surely his parents were near, right? The boy was surprisingly not resistant at all and walked silently with him on the non-existent path to find his parents. As they were finally back on the trail, near to the edge of the woods, it heard a male and a female voice screaming a name. They were his parents by all means, judging from how the child's eyes lightened up as he gasped with joy when he heard his name. It let go of little Chris' hand, and after he mumbled a "thank you" while walking backwards, he turned around and sprinted in his parents direction yelling "mom, dad i'm here!". Rarely even evil forest creatures can do something nice it guessed.

[wormieapple]

please understand that i will never and can never condone John Winchester’s actions but some of y’all really don’t understand what “he did the best he could” means.

he neglected and at the very least emotionally abused his kids, and there’s a pretty good argument that he might’ve physically abused them as well. he isolated them, prevented them from forming any lasting relationships outside of immediate family, left them alone for days if not weeks on end with firearms and very little food. And that’s not even the half of it. and everything he did was a manifestation of grief and drive to protect his family. which does not in the slightest justify how he treated sam and dean, but it does lay out his morals and motives pretty clearly.

He loves his kids, he really does. and while struggling to deal with his own trauma he was doing everything he could in his mind to keep them safe. but that doesn’t make his best enough, not by a long shot. that doesn’t even make his best efforts good efforts. at the end of the day he abused his kids and royally fucked up their ability to cope with their own grief and trauma in ways that i cannot touch with a 10ft pole rn or i’ll be writing 57 essays right here and now.

and again i hate john just as much as the next person but he did not set out to abuse his kids. he didn’t have nefarious intentions when it came to how he raised his kids. he was a good person who turned into an abusive asshole due to grief, paranoia, and alcoholism. and it makes perfect sense that sam and dean still love him even if they recognize the damage he did to them. because they also know how hard their dad tried, and they’ve said as much several times. and i get it cause that’s how i grew up. my dad did everything he could despite his grief, despite his depression, despite working 14 hour days in poverty and homelessness, and he still neglected and emotionally abused me. not because he was a bad person, but because he had no tools to deal with everything he was going through. and his best wasn’t enough, his best failed me. and i still love my dad cause not every memory was bad, and he does truly love me and my siblings. And i��m lucky in a way that sam and dean never were because my dad recognized where he failed us, owned up to what he did and tries everyday to repair the damage he did.

I have closure, and that’s something sam and dean could never really have. but they do have the clusterfuck of emotions that is he tried his best and it wasn’t enough.

[jesncin]

Random question, how come Goldie's form is that of a small child if he died in the womb? And if his spirit/soul aged, how come he's not the same age as John? Was there something that happened that stopped his aging, or is that just how John sees him?

Other than me following how Goldie/Golden Boy looks like in his first appearance in Hellblazer (though I aged him down a bit), I imagine that John perceives Goldie as someone growing with him but as John quickly loses his childhood innocence, Goldie stops growing.

In his teen years John tries stubbornly to be independent, out of survivor's guilt that he's growing up while his brother can't.

They stick together. I like to think of Goldie as the one spirit out of Constantine's ghost crew who doesn't hate or blame him for their death. John still feels awful about it because of course.

I do enjoy reading people's interpretations of Goldie's age being a reflection of how John remembers and grieves him. That's sweet.

[raevenlywrites]

Tell me why in the tags

[isatoru]

the vision of gojo actually being really scary and unsettling in theory and he laughs about it as if he's not and like ":>" about it is what makes me want to fuck him so bad lol. that's the only appeal if i'm being honest

[lumi-cherries]

praying more shu booba arises 🙏🙏

SHU BOOBA YOU'LL HAVE MY DEAR ANON 🤲

[bpdpr1ncess]

i wish i could have this crippling obsession with anyone else. the only person who’s been able to handle me and my obsession is my first ex bf. at least he understood me and cared enough to be gentle with me.

[balladetto]

hh...hii.

[jenny-ate-ink]

Okay, okay, so hear me out:

Modern Au!Linked Universe x Stardew Valley crossover with Lon Lon Ranch being the players farm, and all them are related in some way, either being father and son, uncle and nephew, or cousins, and where the Goddess is uniting them in canon it's instead trauma (because love me some good whump)

I already came up with some (very) rough design drafts, a family tree, new "modern"/more human names for them based on their titles, and backstories for Time, Twilight, and Wild

Here's the designs + a bonus transparent version

(Like I said, it's a very rough draft, the first draft, in fact. Warriors needs tweaking, and Legend needs to be a tiny bit shorter, etcetera)

Here's the family tree I came up with (also a draft):

And I'll put the few backstories I came up with under a read more sense they contain a lot of triggering material (like I said, trauma is the uniting thing here lmao). Everything is tagged, of course, so I recommend looking that over first

(*Note: click to read)

[eternal-moss]

Falin panel in my style

:D I suddenly felt compelled to redraw the panel. Miss Touden you are my muse

Lineart + original panel under the cut

I mean, look at the improvement from one drawing to the other, Ryoko Kui’s art makes me think hard about anatomy + physics and it feels really good to draw :3

\/ original panel!

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 15] At First Sight. [Patreon | Commissions]

[miradelletarot]

Trauma Dump Hours

Apologizing in advance. This is gonna be HEAVY FEELS. I just...need somewhere to put all of my thoughts down so feel free to scroll past this.

**This is HEAVY mental and emotional trauma with mentions of abortion within so please be mindful of the content below the cut**

I have made mentions of my parents before, but never really went into too much detail about my relationship with them because of everything else going on. But, in light of some things that have happened recently, I need to just get these thoughts out in some sort of order...which might not happen but here we are. So my relationship with my parents has been interesting to say the very least. i was raised in a very conservative catholic home. Silent gen dad, and a boomer mom. both very intolerant of anything they don't agree with. My dad is the epitome of hating everything that doesn't align with his beliefs...If you aren't white or straight especially, and do not live the traditional lifestyle that he feels one should abide by. (hopefully that paints a picture for you).

Anyway, I am the baby of my family. My brother is 50 and my sister is 49 (they are a year and 4 days apart). I arrived 12 years later. I was very well and truly an OOPS. My brother is the golden child, my sister, the problem child (former, anyway, but she was definitely more wild than they liked,) and I...well, I had to be the perfect one to do as my parents wanted 100% of the time.

my mom had no self-esteem and raised me to be the same way. never be too confident and sure of myself b/c it was unbecoming to do so. I had to always get good grades, and always follow the rules. If I ever did something wrong, i got the wrath of my father (that stern, military rage). So, as i got older, my mom would hide things from him on my behalf, but only if I did something for her. Things like keeping secrets from dad, hiding mail so she didn't get in trouble with the finances again. If i ever dared to stop doing that shit for her she would blackmail me...would threaten to tell my dad all the shit i did wrong if I stopped helping her. Basically, I was scared and brainwashed into having ZERO autonomy or individuality. If I showed any emotion other than happiness I always had "an attitude." But, I saw my mom's behavior as if she was the only one in my corner...my buddy who kept my secrets for me because no one else would.

I struggled in school, but almost always got As and Bs. I had to work my ass off for it too. Math was always a sore subject that made me and dad lock horns. He's a math wiz, and I'm not. I'm not well read because I HATE reading books. (thanks school for ruining that for me). history? forget it. i have a horrible memory. But, if i ever got a C? holy shit i was a failure in their eyes. I feel like I am so far behind everyone intellectually that it's hard for me to have conversations with people sometimes because I feel like I can't keep up. By the time I got to high school was when I finally started to see what they were doing to me, but I was too afraid to break free. Honestly? i didn't know I had a choice in the matter. When I was in college, I had to be in remedial math. When my dad found out (b/c he was paying for college,) he literally screamed at me in the financial aid office b/c he couldn't believe I was in such a low math class. His apology? "I just worry about you, and i want you to do well." What a fucking joke. Again, in college, I was big into choir. we had a huge spring performance that we NAILED and we wanted to celebrate. So, we carpooled and went to a nearby club. I was barely 20 so i had the wristbands of course. I CALLED my mom to ask if i could go. Told her who i would be with, where i was gonna be, and that it would be WAYYYY late before I get home. Said I would keep my phone in the car b/c I knew i wouldn't hear it or feel it vibrate, but i could call her when I leave even if it was like 3 am. She said no need, and let me go.

So, in I walk at 330 am to both my parents in the living room, and my dad SCREAMING at me that I am just like my sister. out partying at all hours doing "god knows what." I was dumbfounded. My mom didn't even look at me...just sat there as I got ripped into. Wanna know why that happened?? Because SHE PRETENDED SHE NEVER GAVE HER PERMISSION. She told me later that her and dad had to have a "united front" and I had "no right to be mad" at her. When I tell you I leveled my room into an absolute mess that night and cried myself to sleep. the betrayal I felt...as a 20 yr old, a legal fucking adult, and I had no voice. no independence. My relationship with them has gone south ever since.

Of course, several things have happened between now and then. Their relationship is very transactional, and always comes out with me needing to serve THEM for them to be happy. for them to see me as worthy. But, my mom likes to throw it in my face whenever she can about how great my brother is. How stable he is. that bitch is single and has no kids. fuck him. he's an incel anyway.

Mother's day this year was the last straw for me. I called my mom out of obligation. in that 15 minutes she gushed about my brother's financial stability knowing how hard i have been struggling since I left my husband. I told her how proud I was of myself, that I was doing all these things with very little help, and making so much progress in such a short time. her response? As deadpan as possible "Congratulations. You're finally adulting." Finally? FINALLY? Not like I had been trying FOR YEARS when my irresponsible idiot of a husband was the one who had the control. I left my childhood home and walked into another relationship with a person who was just like my parents. A transactional, mentally and emotionally abusive relationship. I was his shadow because i felt like i HAD to be. When he wanted to leave me in 2021 for that very reason i thought i would literally die. That's when I found my spiritual practice. when i started to really change and try to find myself. and yet, he STILL didn't like who I was. Hence, why i finally found the strength in me to leave him back in December. I got no support from my parents. They wanted me to move in with them....ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY EX...just so i could be close to my children. I'm only 15 mins away from them. I see them when I can with the 2 jobs I work for shit pay. I'm busting my ass to pay off my car. Have they ever called in the 6 months I have been gone to ask me how I am??? If I need help?? NO. And why would they?? Between my mom and dad both, I was told on three separate occasions that they wanted to abort me. But I SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT THEY DIDN'T. Why would I? I have lived my life feeling like I was never good enough, that i was a worthless burden to the world. All because i was conditioned to believe as such. Thankfully for my sister, she saw through their shit a long time ago, and left home when she turned 18. i wish I understood why back then...but I was a kid. All i knew was how hurt my parents were, or how they seemed to be, and I believed that if I did anything to hurt them i was a bad person. I couldn't be like my sister. because that was a bad thing. But...nothing makes you feel more unloved and unwanted than your parents telling you they didn't want you. Then act surprised when you block them and don't want to speak to them. I can't go thru 38 years worth of shit they did, but this was some of the bigger/more recent stuff. It's amazing i never blocked them sooner (though, being across the street from them at the time was certainly a factor...)

It's why my identity means so fucking much to me. i felt like my name is not my own, my existence isn't my own. Why I want all the labels that I feel make up who I am so i can have some fucking semblance of understanding about what makes me "me."

Aside from spanking as a kid (which was normal back then sadly,) i was never physically abused. i had a roof over my head, I had food when i needed it, I was clean, had nice (not name brand) clothes...all the necessities, but I never *ever* had a healthy grasp on my mental health. never had healthy coping mechanisms for my emotions, and I never felt truly loved by my parents. better seen than heard, and if i was seen it was always to do something that made my parents proud so they could brag about me. I was a trophy. A puppet.

And today, as i sit here, wondering how tf to deal with my parents...I am anxious and scared. i feel like a child all over again, trembling like I am about to be scolded. All because i was conditioned to believe that my feelings were worthless and wrong. I have gotten 2 voicemails today from my dad, telling me I "need" to call them. To explain what's going on. Suddenly, they are worried. Suddenly, they care. But I know it's only for their satisfaction. part of me wants to pour my soul out and light it on fire so they can see how much they hurt me over the years. Part of me wants to pretend they are dead and forget they exist. I am not sure what to do.

So, if anyone ever wonders why Gale means so much to me...why i have such a mental and emotional attachment to his character. this is why. because aside from my 2 bffs, he was the only other entity that made me feel loved and worthy, and it breaks my heart that he isn't real. For now, though, he's a beautiful escape.

idk if I need anything rn...I'm not sure where to go from here. I have no idea what will make me feel better. getting some of it out helps. Being in therapy definitely helps. If you read this then you're a damn trooper...or a glutton for punishment, idk. Either way, thank you for listening to me.

I really don't expect anyone to say anything or even read this. It really isn't necessary. But please know that for the many of you whom I have befriend on here since I joined tumblr...I am grateful for you all. Just being in this space has been so healing for me. thank you.

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Sugar Crash Void Bash: The Fanfic!

CWs: Parents arguing, drug mention, anxiety mention, childhood trauma mention

chapter 1 chapter 2

Chapter Three: Licorice Laced Lies

chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8

“Hm?” Ramón jolts awake. The teenager rubs his head, scratching gently at his scalp. His fingers get caught a bit in the little pink curls resting upon his head. His mouth feels uncomfortably dry and chalky, lightly rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Why do I always get so thirsty at night?” He mumbles, lazily rolling out of bed and climbing down the ladder.

He sneakily opens his bedroom door so as to not wake his fathers, suddenly he sees the light is on in the kitchen and shadows moving around. He gets startled and glitches into the void, just in case they might see him up so late.

“Vanilla, stop it.” Tippy sounds exasperated.

“I’m not kidding around.” Vanilla speaks with irritation, “We hardly have enough money as it is to keep ourselves alive, let alone live in this house.” He rubs his forehead and rests his other hand on the center island. Ramón listens in, feeling anxious… My fathers don’t fight… do they?

“Vans, seriously. I can pick up some extra hours at the studio and-”

“God damn it, no.” Vanilla’s voice isn’t raised, but his tone is harsh, “You work yourself to the bone and you have no energy to spend time with your family. I’ve seen you burn out so badly that you sobbed hysterically on your knees after work. I don’t want you to be in that state again, Tippy.”

“It’s either that or you and I could skip dinner. We’ll just tell Ramón that we already ate before he gets home from school.” Tippy tells him.

“We don’t need to go that far, you’re going overboard. We just need to save money in every way we possibly can.” 

“Then stop buying every single thing our son asks for. He doesn’t need all of that stuff anyway!” Tippy argues.

“No. I’m not going to neglect my kid, I want him to have a better childhood than I ever did. You know that. I had nothing growing up.” Ice gulps, “I had nothing… I want him to have everything.” Ice pushes back. “I grew up without a family, without anyone to look to or lean on, and I’ll be damned if my own child grows up feeling unloved and neglected.”

“What the hell does that have to do with you buying him all this useless shit?! You’re not neglecting him by telling him, ‘No, we can’t afford that right now.’ You need to set basic boundaries with our kid.” Tippy tries not to raise zeir voice, but there’s still venom.

“There’s no point in you arguing with me. I’m not changing my mind. I’ll give him whatever he wants. I’ll pick up a second job if I have to.” Vanilla speaks.

“No! You will not do either of those things!” Tippy hisses.

Ramón’s heart races as he listens to his parents argue. This is all my fault… Papa does everything I say… he probably didn’t even tell dad about how I slammed the car door or called him by his first name.

“This is ridiculous. I’m not fighting with you, Gratuity.” Vanilla uses Tippy’s full first name… Tippy’s brows frown, giving a completely distraught look as ze stays silent. The brunette man walks over to one of the cabinets and rummages around.

“Where is it?” Ice mumbles.

“What are you looking for?”

Vanilla gives Tippy a desperate look and his shoulders drop. Tippy analyzes Vanilla’s expression for a moment then quickly speaks,

“Oh no. No, you can’t be serious. You said we’re not about that life anymore, Vans.”

“We have no other choice, Tippy… we’re stuck.” Ice sighs and looks around, “Where did you put it?”

Ramón trembles, his heart pounding and adrenaline shoots into his veins, are they going to do drugs!? What is happening?! 

Ice looks around through drawers and cabinets until finally he rests his hand on the very thing he was searching for. He is about to take the object out until,

“Vanilla, wait…” Tippy touches zeir husband’s arm. Ice relaxes and looks into his husband’s eyes. “We don’t have to do this…”

The brunette keeps his hand on the object for a while… he retracts his hand and wraps Tippy up into a hug, 

“You’re right… we’ll get through this together. We’ve been through a lot worse… but…” He looks back to the drawer, “Think about it. Really think about it, sweetie.”

Tippy is silent for a few moments. Ze looks at the drawer for a while then speaks,

“Okay, big fella… Y-you’re probably right.”

Ramón is very relieved to know that his fathers are no longer arguing… although this entire argument seems rather strange in the first place. What else is going on?

A few days later

“Yeah, they’ve just been acting really weird lately.” Ramón is on a video call with his friends. Jared speaks up,

“What happened exactly? I uh, didn’t understand any of that.”

“That’s the thing, I have no idea. The fact that night my papa was reaching for something in one of the kitchen drawers really freaked me out.”

“Did you ever find out what it was?” Alex asks, getting closer to the screen.

“I tried to. But I guess whatever it was, Vanilla or daddo must’ve moved it or already taken it out before I could get to it.” Ramón plays with his hair, “On top of that, whenever I walk into the room while they’re talking… they immediately stop and pretend like they weren’t talking at all.”

"V-Vanilla?" Alex stutters quietly. She is ignored.

“Well, that’s freaking weird.” Jared snickers. “Oh, hey, did you hear about what happened to Ryan?”

“No, but I noticed he hasn’t been messing with me anymore. What happened to him?”

“Let’s just say he apparently got drunk one day and started texting everyone really weird stuff!” Jared laughs, “He even emailed the headmaster something like, ‘SUCK MY BUTT CHEEKS, OLD LADY’! Oh my god, it was awesome. I’m surprised nobody’s told you yet.”

“Huh…” Ramón remembers the fact that his papa had given his dad Ryan’s cell phone. He realizes that his fathers most likely destroyed Ryan’s reputation so badly that it caused him to finally get in trouble, and go silent.

“Karma, am I right?” Jared chuckles. Alex speaks up,

“It’s about time! Now you don’t have to get into fights anymore!” She snort laughs. “Oh yeah, and Cobie was worried about you the whole entire time.” Ramón sits up,

“They were?”

“Yeah!” Alex says. “They were sticking up for you with us, obviously.”

“But to be honest, they were probably the one to be the most defensive.”

“Wow…” Ramón lies down on the floor, feeling his cheeks heat up and his heart skip a beat.

“I legit think they like-like you, Ramón.” Jared tells him.

“Haha… yeah…” Ramón sits up and looks at his friends, “Y’know, maybe I don’t really have that much to worry about after all.”

Suddenly his door opens.

Ramón is startled, sits up in the criss-cross position, and turns around to see his fathers at the door, both smiling but looking nervous at the same time.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Tippy waves zeir hands around and chuckles awkwardly. Ice clears his throat,

“Uh, Foofy. May we speak with you for a moment?”

“Hm?!” Ramón looks to his friends on the video call. Jared immediately hangs up and Alex nervously goes,

“Uuuuuhhh, hi! Uuuhhh… bye!” Then hangs up. Ramón gives his fathers a confused and worried look,

“So… what’s up?”

“Foofy,” Ice approaches the boy and smiles warmly at him, “Your dad and I are so very proud of you.”

“It’s true, mi hijo.” Tippy tells him.

“So… we decided to get you a little gift.” Vanilla hands Ramón 3 tickets, “We should have given these to you sooner, but now is better than never.” The teenage boy gasps and takes them,

“W-what?! Are these tickets to Die-Saccharide?!” Ramón looks up at his fathers with wide, excited eyes, “Th-this is my favorite band of all time! Y-you guys remembered?! Oh my god, thank you!”

Vanilla and Tippy hug their son, then gently help him up and push him to the door.

“Wait…” Ramón looks at the tickets and his heart skips a beat, “Guys, these tickets say the show starts at 8pm… tonight.”

“That’s right!” Vanilla chuckles nervously, “So you better get going, Foofy. Go tell your friends and get a move on.”

The teenager can’t help but feel suspicious. Everything about this interaction is… off.

“But wait… right now? There’s no way Jared and Alex’s parents would let them come with me, especially not this late at night.” Ramón tells his fathers, looking a little worried. Vanilla and Tippy glance at each other then look back at their son. Ice smiles and rubs his son’s head,

“Don’t worry. We already had it taken care of, Foofs.”

“But- wait- what? How did you-? What do you mean–?”

Tippy presses Ramón’s back and Vanilla hands him his shoes,

“Please be safe and call us if you need anything, mi hijito.”

“W-wait. But-but how will I know–?” Ramón looks back and forth between his parents with startled confusion. Tippy and Vanilla look around outside, presumably for someone. The sun is starting to set, sending strands of light rays across the sky over the magenta clouds and bright orange sky. This reminds Ramón of rainbow sherbet. They send their boy off. He looks back at his fathers, then hops into the glitchy void with Sugar Crash, texting his friends on the way to the bus stop.

At the concert

Alex sips her drink and fidgets with her concert wristband, “So your fathers somehow just randomly got these tickets, huh?”

“Yes, Alex, I told you six times!” Ramón tells her. Alex continues sipping her drink,

“Maybe they didn’t realize it was for tonight! I’m just lucky my mom let me join even though it was on such short notice!” She giggles.

Jared chuckles and raises his eyebrows up and down,

“Or they probably wanted to keep you out of the house tonight so they can get it on.”

“Ewwww! No! Shut up!” Ramón gags and shakes his hands around, “Never say that again, Jared!” The tall teenager just laughs and rests his arm on top of Ramón’s head. 

The concert starts, thousands of people yell, “Die-Saccharide!” and cheer when the emo clad band members appear on stage. The lead singer, a person with short hot pink hair and heavy eyeliner lean into the mic and speak,

“Are you sugar fiends ready to get sickly sweet?”

Ramón, his friends, and the rest of the crowd scream in excitement. The electric guitarist strikes a heavy chord, then the song starts playing,

“Laughing nasty, talking back, I’m addictive like cigarettes,

Breaking bones, fighting back … I’m addictive like sugar crack.

I have your heart wrapped around my finger,

I’ll put your sugar skull right through the ringer,

To your elegy I’m the lead singer…

Take one step closer I’ll pull the trigger

You! Can’t resist my candy venom.

You! Get strangled by my serpent charm.

You! Like the way I do you harm.

You! Have fallen for my diamond eyes and you… keep clinging to my scaly lies.

It's irresistible, the taste of my cherry cola conscience

It is just terrible, how you fall for my candy coated nonsense

Be careful not to choke on my diabolical… candy venom.”

Meanwhile

Ice is pacing back and forth in the kitchen, fidgeting with his left bang and biting the inside of his cheek. Tippy nibbles on the skin around his nails, but zeir husband takes his hand gently,

“Don’t do that, sweetie.” 

The brunette moves the three wine glasses around on the table, then reads the label of red wine. He moves it around the kitchen island a little bit.

“So, uh… why is he taking so long, Vans?” Tippy asks.

“I don’t know…” Vanilla looks out one of the kitchen windows facing the road, “but he had better get here before Ramón comes back.” He shakes his head slowly.

Two Hours Later

The crowd is going bonkers. The lead singer, their eye makeup running down their face from sweat, speaks breathlessly into the mic,

“That was syrupy sweet, sugar fiends… You have been a great audience! Goodnight!” 

Ramón and his friends, exhausted but still wired from having seen their favorite band, cheer loudly. The three of them take a bus back to their neighborhood, say their goodbyes and all head back to their respective houses using their stands for safety. 

Ramón dips into Sugar Crash’s void with his head poking out, and floats back to his home.

“Huh?” Ramón pauses Sugar Crash. “W-why is there a hearse here?” Something isn’t sitting right with the teen. He sneakily glitches inside of the house, careful to be extra silent. A voice that sounds strikingly familiar rings in the air,

“Once again, my deepest apologies for showing up so late. You know how it is with the ultraviolets and my complexion.” 

Ice watches the man take a drink of his wine and nods,

“Indeed.”

Ramón can only see the back of the man’s head. Silky, golden locks cascade down the back of a pasty, alabaster skinned man. This man is sickly pale, almost translucent, as if he were a reanimated cadaver. Ramón narrows his eyes while glitched in between the wall’s existence and Sugar Crash’s void. The blonde man speaks,

“I’m thrilled that you two have decided to contact me during this time." He pauses for a moment, "I'm also happy to note that the little spell book I've gifted you has managed to work, even after all these years. Supernatural communication is quite the convenience, hm?" The man chuckles,

"What a delightful coincidence that we both needed help from one another, yes? Let’s make a deal, shall we?” He swirls the glass of wine around a bit, “I am more than willing to pay you as much money as you need, plus a bonus if you get rid of somebody for me.” He pauses for a moment.

Ramón listens closer, trembling a bit from anxiety. The young boy can’t put his finger on it but, yet again he gets this strange sense of familiarity when he hears this man’s voice. The blonde man continues after a sip of wine,

“It won’t be a team of morons like last time. It’ll be just,” He puts his finger up, “One. Person.” 

With that, he stands up and walks around the kitchen island and goes to the fridge. The man’s face is still obscured by the long strands of blonde hair. He fiddles with the fridge magnets a bit,

“Oh, that’s cute…”

Suddenly he turns and seemingly faces Ramón. Even though Ramón knows he is hidden, this makes the teenage boy’s heart stop for a moment. The man’s face is eerily familiar, which sends chills down his spine and a strike of adrenaline into his heart. It looks as if this man is staring directly into Ramón’s eyes. The blonde man smirks,

“What a lovely little family you all are.” He reaches up on the wall and takes off the picture that was hanging. The blonde walks over to Vanilla and Tippy,

“He’s… 15 now?”

“That is correct.” Ice nods. The man lazily sets the family portrait in the middle of the island counter and walks around to the couple. He gets uncomfortably close to Ice, nothing malicious, it’s as if he simply doesn’t understand the concept of personal space,

“Does he have a stand?”

It’s very tense and silent. 

“Why do you ask?” Vanilla replies.

“I think you know why I ask, Mr Ice…” Dio tells him, “He does, doesn’t he?”

The man holds his glass out to Vanilla expecting him to fill it, to which Vanilla reluctantly does. With a chuckle, the blonde looks at his drink and speaks,

“I will allow you to stay in my manor once again. It’ll be an easy task for you two to fight on my behalf and take care of this… ‘little problem’ of mine.” He takes a sip, “After all, I know how much you both have been struggling financially. Consider everything paid for, your flight, your housing, food, and other necessities. All it takes is for you to get rid of this little pest.” He sets the glass down and continues,

“Bring your son along. He can think of it as a um… oh what’s the word…? A little ‘field trip’. He’ll get a glimpse of yet another part of his fathers’ cultural background.” 

Ice lightly touches Tippy’s back, gently giving zem a reassuring rub. Tippy does the same right back to zeir husband. The blonde man sighs dreamily and looks at the wine glass, admiring his own reflection,

“It’s my understanding that your son has been to Mexico to see Gratuity’s relatives, hm? So it won’t be his first time flying in an airplane, correct?”

“Yes, Dio… that is correct.” Ice tells him.

“Grand.” Dio smirks and takes another drink of wine, “I certainly hope he has an easier time than I do when flying. I much prefer to cruise on a ship. But perhaps that’s just my age showing.” Dio chuckles and glances over at Tippy. The blue haired one nods,

“You don’t look a day over 21, Dio.”

“Ohohohoho! You’re such a lamb.” Dio grins, showing his sharp, pearly white canines. He finishes his wine and hands the glass to Ice. The blonde grabs his bag, and walks to the front door,

“I knew I could count on you two once again… although,” He looks off into the distance, “Last time your little antics cost me my head!” He cackles, “Or better yet… my entire body.” He flips his hair over his shoulder and looks at the couple, “I must go. I don’t want to keep my chauffeur waiting. You all have one week to get everything ready. I’ll meet you at my manor… don’t dawdle.” 

Dio makes his departure and leaves the couple in their home. Ramón waits a little while before sneaking back onto the front porch and opening the door with his spare key. Ice and Tippy are seated in the living room, they both jolt when they hear their son open the door.

“Ramón! You’re back already, pequeño?” Tippy asks. Vanilla makes his way over to his son,

“How was the concert, Foofy?”

“O-oh! It was awesome! Alex got so excited, she screamed so much that she lost her voice, haha!”

His fathers chuckle and nod. Ice gently touches his son’s shoulder and looks down at him with a sweet smile,

“Hey, little one… how would you like to…” He glances over at Tippy then back at Ramón, “Take a little vacation and learn about your papa’s heritage this time?”

To be continued…

[seeinganewlight]

NANCY DREW PARALLELS

the sign of the uninvited guest (1x14) ⇾ the witch tree symbol (3x12)

[marrfixated]

(More thoughts and drafting! Some weird formatting I know but it was all one block in my notes)

Emma is doing just fine. Average. It’s really not so bad.

She’s just been dealing with a lot of change. And with too many things not changing.

Which is… an odd thing to struggle with.

Because she likes change. Daunting challenges. The unpredictable. Doing new things every day and never being scared of them. And she likes independence.

She had thought so, at least.

After the show, she had been hit in the face with just how… isolated she was. She had only had two friends before the first season, but she had left them behind. Her mother wasn’t doing the best, and she didn’t have any nearby family.

She found herself laying in her bed in the middle of the day most of the time, scrolling through her contacts and old conversations.

Or scrolling through her comments on TikTok.

A few weeks ago, she had tried some stunt involving a motorcycle and an inflatable pool. She probably wouldn’t have messed it up if her hands weren’t trembling.

(She had forgot to check the breaks, and wasn’t sure if they were working.)

(They were.)

The blood dripping down her face and the gash in her lip didn’t sting as much as it did watching the video.

She looked ridiculous, and she probably always did. It was better when she had someone else to do it with. Maybe she was losing her touch.

She didn’t post the video.

She turned back to dancing instead, which did feel less embarassing, despite the constant mocking feedback. Sure, the jokes were “funny”, but she didn’t care about any of it. She didn’t feel the rush, she wasn’t planning every day, and she wasn’t known or loved for anything.

Except for what she lost.

And, the show, to an extent.

-Ugh, she misses the show. She shouldn’t, but as stupid as it sounds, she really did. She missed doing crazy things and talking to people. Having a chance of winning. Beating everyone. Being cheered on. It wasn’t always great, but at least it was something. She misses doing something.

And she really misses Bowie. She missed Bowie, but she knows better than anyone that she can’t go back to that. They just- have better things to do now. He probably does.

He’s got Raj- which is great! And she’s happy for him! She’s happy for everyone. For Wayne, however he’s doing, for Julia, despite everything.

And Caleb. For having Priya.

Emma is jealous that Bowie gets to have someone.

Emma is jealous that everyone else gets to have someone.

Emma is jealous that, unlike everyone else, winning the show probably wouldn’t have made her any happier.

She isn’t sure what would.