Youre Good! - Tumblr Posts
Where are we going then? The question makes Jerome’s unnaturally wide smile stretch even wider. “You’ll see.” He shifts the van into drive and pulls away from the manor. He’s practically vibrating with excitement. He’s very pleased with himself for managing to pull this off. After a few minutes of tense silence, Jerome sighs dramatically and flips the radio on. He hums along to the song spilling from the speakers, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the beat. “Loosen up, Bruce. This is gonna be fun.” It’ll be fun for Jerome, at least. And that’s all that matters. He cackles as they continue on to their destination, his laughter mixing with the music to create an odd cacophony of noise.
When they arrive at the carnival, Jerome hops out and grabs a bag and a pair of handcuffs out of the back of the van. He shoves the bag over Bruce’s head and clamps the handcuffs around his wrists. “Come on, handsome.” He tugs Bruce from the van and shoves him in the direction of the carnival. “Don’t worry, you won’t be a baghead for long.” He laughs again, giggling as they get closer to the carnival.
When they reach the entrance, he whips the bag from Bruce’s head and tosses it over his shoulder with all the dramatic flair he can muster. “What d’ya think? Ya like it?” He drapes an arm around Bruce’s shoulder and shoves his face next to Bruce’s. “Hm? Come on, gimme something! I can’t work with silence, Bruce.” As he speaks, he leads Bruce deeper into the carnival, occasionally pausing to play one of the macabre games his followers had set up. He wins a stuffed octopus at one of them and proudly presents it to Bruce. “For you, darlin’.”
He fought the frown that threatened to form upon his facade — a mask of the young man he imagined his father would have wanted him to be: calm, collected and calculating. With a stifled exhale he regains his composure, returning his steady gaze towards his captor. If prodded about his passed parents upon their first meeting, perhaps the performer might have triggered a desired reaction. However, as the years without them neared the number with, Bruce forced himself to adapt to their absence. Not that he wasn't without his juvenile outbursts; when Alfred first forced socialization upon the grieving, self-isolating adolescent, he didn't make it a day before finding a fight with Tommy Elliott and his imbecilic entourage who found pleasure in rubbing salt in the young orphan's fresh wounds. He had learned two lessons that day: when to hold back and when to hit hard (and, that his father's watch was an excellent makeshift wrist wrap in a pinch).
His expression darkens at the mention of Alfred. Bruce's gaze flickers, falters, yet his lips stay sealed, sewn shut in stubborn defiance. Dark hues widen once more following the random intrusion of his personal life — or rather, the embarrassing lack thereof. Not that Jerome necessarily knew that. But before he could come up with anything cunning, Jerome had already thrown another punch. Pretty boy, Bruce loathes the deep scarlet that surfaces upon his cheeks. He scowls in response to Jerome's growing grin, jerking himself as far from the joker's touch as he can manage. This only tightens the gloved grip of the showman, however, and Bruce feels himself launched towards the night's cool call. His attention shifts and for a minute he leaves the moment, instead staring ahead at the shattered surface of the broken glass that webbed the destruction of Jerome's entrance. He found himself mesmerized by the shimmering shards of sharp glass that glistened against the backdrop of snow that began to gather. Bruce looked towards the dark sky above, charcoal clouds obscured the city in the distance molded into an enormous, ominous entity. For a few seconds, the sickle moon shone through the shadows, reminding Bruce of his mother's shy smile. Jerome could kill him here and now. And maybe Bruce should have egged him on. Maybe then he could return to his parents and be free of the showman's stunts. With closed eyes he could picture the ghosts of his parents with their arms open, ready to soothe him into the eternal silence. But it wasn't his time yet. No, not yet. Not here and not now. He staggered under Jerome's grip, his blush growing as he was easily overpowered and pulled every which way. He grimaces, giving the joker a rough shove but doing little to hinder the larger's hold. He hated this, how helpless he felt — it brought him back to that day, that allyway. A harsh voice in the back of his mind questioned the purpose of all his training if he could still be so easily subdued. You couldn't save them then and you wouldn't be able to now. Say goodbye, he shakes his head, messy raven locks obscured his expression. He's survived Jerome once and he'd do it again. He'd return home to Alfred, to his mission. But once again he fumbles, and his words bring forth a shudder. He can only imagine what the criminal considers to be fun. His mind immediately jumps to what weird things Jerome could possibly want to do with him. Having already probed his love life in the little time they've been reunited, Bruce's anxieties metastasized and wandered. I'll make it good for you, Bruce squirms in the arms of his infatuator and childishly attempts to wipe the touch of Jerome's lips from his temple. A warmth gathers and grows in his stomach — ravenous — spreading by the second. He tries to shake him away, alongside his growing need for affection and attention. For a moment, Bruce considers running. Whether back to the mansion or to the forrest that outlined his family's estate, he knows running from Jerome only meant he would take his aggressions out elsewhere, on the innocent. He holds Jerome's unwaivering, all-consuming gaze for a few moments before proceeding to the passenger's seat without much complaint (aside from his ever present scowl). "Where are we going then?" Bruce reluctantly relents.
@notefinal
Friendly Reminder 🤗
What is meant for you is going to happen no matter what choices you made or which direction you're going...
There's no need to live in regrets
The problem is accepting what's the purpose that was destined for you
You're on the right track
he helps you clear the farm of leaves during fall but what he doesn’t tell you is that he hides those leaves in the back to burn when you set up the bonfire later
you best believe sam is throwing random shit into the bonfire to watch it burn
another thing I hope they change for the show is the bloater flashback. there is, again, no way that Joel "massacred an entire hospital" Miller just moved on from Ellie almost getting her head ripped off. there is just no way. I talked to my sister about it and sure, you could say maybe he doesn't want to baby her since they've already started drifting and she's 16 now, but there was barely ANY emotion after that. just "that was too close"??? your daughter almost died, my guy. give some emotion to that, please. it just felt like he was on a normal patrol that happened to run into a bloater, not Ellie (the kid he traveled the country with and has basically adopted) almost dying to a bloater
Hey, you're NOT terrible! I'm sorry you had to go through all this... That you're still going through all this... If I could, I would definitely hug you and tell you that you are far from the most terrible person in the world, as you probably begin to consider yourself sometimes. Of course, you don't have wealth, but each of us has it. And no matter how much it hurts us at some moments, we must get up and continue on our way. Someday you will find your happiness, but for now, we will support you with everything than we can.
*I hugged you
In general, I'm going to complain about my life now, who doesn't want to listen to me complain, just ignore it
Dude, I literally hate myself, thanks to my fucking parents for ruining everything for me.
I'm not kidding, my mom literally made me emotional swings. At first she would yell at me, and then she would come when I was sobbing and comforting, apologizin
My dad mostly ignores me, they remembered about me when it was night and I was not at home, then they needed me. Dad still doesn't treat me very well. Dude, just say you're proud of me, just do something good for once in your life, just hold me and that's it. But no, he needs to make fun of my drawing again, he doesn't even know what I'm drawing.
My sister, oh my dear big sister. She kicked me out into the street as a child, in winter and without a jacket. Dude, the temperature was below zero. I was a child, an unbalanced child, I don't remember why it happened, but thank you that she quickly realized what she had done and let me back in
Why did they all like to make me cry, I was a fucking scared kid, God, I'm still scared when people yell at me
But okay, the family, the people I considered close, just told me that it was all my fault.
My friend, whom I thought I was helping to cope with depression, just said that I left him, just because I didn't write first, dude, he never wrote to me first
I just said that we weren't friends anymore, like he said, so he changed his shoes and started apologizing and saying that he was a very bad friend. I didn't listen to him.
Another friend of mine had a fight with me. She just started arguing with me and bragging that she was getting an additional education, although she didn't even get a certificate, she didn't graduate from school.
She just told me to fuck off and said she shouldn't have made up with me. Yeah dude it wasn't the first time
My girlfriend just rudely dumped me, it was terrible.
I made the decision to break up with a guy because I just had bad relationships with guys. Thank him for being the only one who understood me and treated it well.
Conclusion
I don't like guys. I want a girl to love me. I hate myself, I wish they would pay attention to me in any way and I feel just terrible
Wow, dude, I'm terrible.
Draw a fusion of deku and luz
Requests aren't open rn until I get caught up
Well, let me see here. I’m currently out of Reapers, so the next best thing would be…
(Rifles through the pockets and holds up something labeled ‘Naga Viper’)
Sometimes I wish these had less dramatic names. Honestly, it sounds like I’m selling poisons.
For something mild, I’ve got a heavily diluted habanero sauce if you don’t mind garlic.
(Fuck this fuck this fuck this I’m supposed to be a neutral party, I should sell to anyone who pays, right? I hate to admit it, but he hasn’t done any damage to my self, my wares or my reputation. I don’t have an actual reason not to.)
…Hello, er, sir Price. Can I interest you in my wares? I have just about any spice level you might be tolerant to, and the smaller bottles are only five silver.
(Unrolls the spice rack to show off several dozen bottles of hot sauce)
It's Capitan Price, though I'll let it slide. I wouldn't mind a bottle, the food around here can be so bland... Your not from around here, hm? Well you should stay for a while, get lost within the crowd, have some fun.