Brcu - Blog Posts

The greatest Bartylus variants

Barty is obviously Bobby Worst and Regulus is literally Bryce Tankthrust

"Hey yk that green horny villian from that youtube show where most of the characters are played by the same person?" Which one

Chapter Two: We fucked up.

Part 1

My ao3

That same scenario runs through his head over and over on repeat the entire walk home, and it was bad enough that he was out of cigs or else he'd be turning to crying or something.

It's all he's thinking.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘴 𝘥𝘰, 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵. 𝘛𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘢, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘈𝘭𝘳𝘰. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴? 𝘈 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵?

Sighing, he drags his feet over and over to get home with a deep pout and frown on his lips. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want this lifestyle anymore. Not the fame or… not the fame it brings. He's not happy. It's doesn't feel right to be here, controlling and being supposed to look after people when he can't even look after himself. Twenty eight years old and he can't even do that: take care of himself. It's pathetic.

__

Opening the door to he and Manjusha's shared.. apartment(?), he drags himself inside with slumped shoulders and a pout. Making the smart decision to at least close the door before slowly trudging his way to the kitchen after stopping by the couch and grabbing a blanket to tightly wrap around himself like his mom used to - But it's /his/ blanket, his worn to softness, rocket blanket that nobody else can touch, not even Manny- before trudding all the way to the fridge. Cool-aid seems like the only thing Manjusha will let him drink these days, after what happened.. he doesn’t think the scar will fade. But at least it wasn’t all that bad.. right? Right-?

But a loud clatter coming from his bedroom tears him out of his thought, already in a bad enough mood given today, not to mention that he's all out of red cool aid.

Taking in a sharp and shakey breath -don’t fucking cry, you pussy- he waddles a little closer to where the sound had come from. His upset pout quickly gone when hearing the commotion, just to be replaced by a scared kid. Arlo may be an odd 6ft something, but helped by the day he's had with all the sounds, bright coulors and lights, he though it was safe enough for him to put his gaurd down even just for a little bit. But he was wrong. He's always wrong.

So instead of walking closer, he quietly whimpers to himself. Stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen with a kids blanket wrapped tight around him and unshed tears in his eyes, he watches as what made the loud sound walks out of his room.. he can't move from the spot he's in, there's so many monsters it could be..

𝘧𝘶- 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘔𝘴. 𝘉𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥-

And oh.

It's…. Dave.

"Ah- shit. I /seriously/ need to ask Arlo what the hell that is-"

Oh.

Of all people, It's Dave who has to see a scared, younger looking Arlo stood terrified in his kitchen. Eyes glasses over with what could be tears, or just that childlike way his eyes get when seeing something particular. Not that he'd know exactly, but he's seen it first hand, and yep- okay. He's crying.

"Uh, shit, hey man. It's- hey, it's okay. I wasn't trying to rob you guys-" and, okay. Internally he's cursing himself for not parking his car out front, but he didn't know this would happen, okay??? He wad just trying to do something kind, and..

"I am NOT doing that, are you kidding me??? Look, Sasha-"

"No, Dave, shut UP. /You/ are going to fix this, and /you/ are going to cheer him up if it costs you fucking everything just because I can’t be there for him. You're basically like an older brother to Arlo" Sasha exclaims while looking at Dave through her glammed out mirror, trying to get 'these damn lashes on-'

"I have known him for two MONTHS! How does that make me- I'm just not. That guy fucking hates me and I'm not going to go babysit him because he can't take care of himself"

And oh did that hit something in Sacha.

Tightening the grip on her tweazers, Sasha visibly shakes in anger with a glare as she turns in her stool. Trying and failing to fully control herself as she stands up, dropping her prized tweazers and poking Dave hard in the chest when face to face.

"Arlo is, /NOT/ a fucking child" she grits, voice thinly avoiding the tone of pure murder before continuing.

"That boy has been through so fucking much just to be here, and don't think for a /second/ that he's keeping you here out of pity and not because he's the sweetest fucking person you'll ever meet. That 'Manchild' is who's giving you a fucking job and you're going to help him when I can't. Say no one more fucking time and you can see what it's like being in a coma for twenty years. Got it?" she says lowly through gritted teeth as she looks Dave dead in the eye. Shit she's gotten closer-

"Yes. Yeah- I- I've got it. Got it." He says with shaken breath and a stiff nod acompanied with a tight smile to sell that he knows Sasha's being seriously, and that he much appreciates being alive once she mentioned it.

And with that, she nods and steps back enough for Dave to realise he needs to breath. Not realising he'd been holding his breath.

"Good. You better make sure he's okay, I'm not fucking kidding /Dave/." Sasha spits as she backs up, putting on a fake smile after checking her hair in the mirror and throwing the thin strap of her bag over he shoulder. Spitting out his name like it was some sort of poison she didn't want on her breath anymore.

BOBBY'S GUITAR IN BRANDONS NEW VIDEO!!

Daddy issues, Mommy issues. He's got issues, doesn't he?

Part 1 of my new Arlo fic :)

She drops the fucking cards, all of-

"No- stop that, stop." He sighs leaning forward to rest his face in his hand before getting up with a huff.

"I'm jus' gone have a little bit of private time, jus' one moment.." he says with a faked, happy tone an smile. Not denting that it's faked anymore.

As Arlo walks away and behind the set of hit Tv30 kids show 'Magic FunHouse', all that is heard is a raw, loud "FUUUUUUUUUCK!" before loud footsteps grow quieter and quieter. The show left on and running.

-

"That fuckin' bitch, embarrassing me like that in front of- move!" He mutters to himself as he strips of his disguise 'Mr. Marble', who the fuck even thinks of that, I mean really. A fucking marble is what I could come up with? I'm such a fucking idiot.

"Oh, hey. So Arlo- what the hell!?" Sasha backs up with a sour expression as Arlo shoves by, throwing off his wig and hat as if it was offending him to the highest degree.

"I don’t want to hear it Sacha, fuck off"

And, okay, rude. Arlo's an asshole and all, but he 's never been this bitter towards her, not even when… she's supposed to be his friend.

"Arlo-??"

But he's gone and out of sight before there's any more protest to be had.

-

With stomping feet he rushes past Sasha, save for their fucked interaction, but right now he just want to. Just doesn’t. He can feel like shit about talking to Sasha like that later, right now he just wants to get home and away from all this fucking coulor. Which, great. It was the uber driver that he'd had on the fucking show, way to go numbnuts. Walking home again, aren't you smart.

*

"I don’t want to be heere, my feet huuurt" he whines, tugging on his moms pant leg as he looks up to her with a pout. He never really liked the park, always had to play by himself in the sand. Nobody else wanted to play astronauts with him.

"Who don't you go play with the others, sweetie? I'm sure they wont mind, hun." His mother, Darla, sweetly says. A not-so-there smile on her face.

"But momm-"

"Arlo. You're a big boy now, go play with the others. Daddy said your his big strong boy, okay? Show 'em that you are." She says with a softer tone, bending down to wipe the mud off of Arlo's cheek with the reassurance. But even at six, Arlo knew that wasn't true. Mommy and Daddy fight all the time, Ms.Bory said so too.

With a huff and a deeper pout, he stomps off into the sand. His little feet making a small thud as he marches over to the swing set hoping to find a friend. But nothing's ever been easy for little Arlo, has it. Looking up from his journey to the swings, he sees a little girl getting pushed off some sort of box. So /that's/ where the music was coming from. But before he can come to that full realisation, he sees five kids ganging up on that girl and throwing hackey sacks at her. Her singing was nice, and he didn't like that it was gone now.

Without a second thought, he stands up as tall as he can, and stomps on over to the bullies. Punching one square in the nose just like he seen Daddy do to make the man at the arcade to give Arlo his tickets back. That man was loud, but so is he.

Nodding to himself he moves onto the next one and does the same thing. Quickly moving to punch the other in the gut, uppercutting the next just like he seen that wrestler guy do, and head butting the last boy. Daddys big, strong boy. Didn’t even cry this time, even if he hurt his nose hurting the last boy.

"Thank you, my hero!"

Arlo turn his head to see the girl stepping down off her box with a smile and an arm held out politely.

He nods a little to himself at seeing her and does the same, because that's the right thing he's supposed to do, right?

"I'm Arlo, Arlo Dittman" he says looking down to her hand before quickly remembering 'its not polite to not look someone in the eyes, sweetie'.

"Sacha, Sacha Barbican" the girl says with a grateful smile, shaking Arlo's hand.

"ARLO-!" A voice yells from across the park, breaking the peace and staring at the two as she approaches.

"Arlo, it's time to go, honey" she says with a sweeter… fake, tone. A cracked smile to match with it it, too.

Later that day, Arlo had Sacha over for dinner. Mom heard all about how he was a big boy today and helped Sacha from trouble, but dear old Dad wasn't having it. Especially not when Sacha went as far as to compliment Moms cooking.

"Oh fuck you, /she/ microwaved it-"

He knows better than to act shocked, but he thought that- he thought that his time might be different…

"It's because you haven't fixed the goddamn oven! I am so sick of-"

"OH IM GONNA KILL YA BITCH-!"

Turning to quickly grab Sacha's hand, he knew it was time to go when Mom and Dad started to reach for each others neck over the table. Mom said he wasn’t supposed to know that part happened.

"I'm sorry my Mom an Dad had too much juice today and became expressive.." he says with a slightly sad, but sorry, tone.

"Thank you for rescuing me from my two bad situations today" Sacha says, sitting across from him on the sidewalk with a cool-aid, one of the cool blue ones. But he always preferred the red.

"You can count on me Sacha" he says with a new smile as he raises his red cool-aid in the air to cheers, to celebrate getting out of their situations together.

Chapter three: And Who Said Love Was Dead? I Sure Didn't.

(Part 2)

Ao3 @Arloooh

Gasping and clutching where her own heart once was, Bryce drops to her knees, putting an arm out to keep herself up. What the fuck was Bobby doing here, he's supposed to be... 

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF HER!" Bobby all but screetches, in a tone bryce had never heard before... Is he.. crying-? Whatever- I can worry about that later, my fucking hearts exploding here. 

There's maybe twenty people around her, maybe a hundred, hell if she knows. 

Gasping and coughing, she keeps her head hung low as arms grapple at her sides and arms. She's wheezing by the time Bobby gets to her, not knowing how he'd suddenly appeared right infront of her when being a football pitch away just moment before. Or maybe it has been long, she doesn't know, her fucking heart is failing. 

Well wasn't this a way to go out, I finally made it to graduation only for this stupid heart to fail after seeing him again. Who said love was dead? 

-

"I SAID, /OFF!/" Bobby yells, yanking prying arms and hands off of Bryce as if she was his to hold. He kneels down as fast as he can, not knowing what the fucks going on but he needs to fix it, and quick. Internally cursing "what the fuck whatthefuckwhatthefuck-" on repeat with staggered breaths, Bobby grabs on to Bryce's shoulder to help her up and off of her knees only for her to groan in pain now lying on her side. When did her face get so pale? When- when the fuck did her eyebags get so dark? Is she a fucking vampi-

"Bobby.." she says clawing a hand across the floor. He looks to her with baited breath, wait this isn't how it's supposed to happen, not like this- THIS ISNT HOW ITS SUPPOSED TO END- "one of you dickbags help me up, and don't fuck up this hair-" she says with that 1960's tone, the sound of authority in her voice that the men around can't help but oblige, but not without Bobby clawing at them to get back while yelling about how "this isn't how it's supposed to end, I'm not- IT ISN'T FAIR!"

And, oh- they're EMT'S. They've been here the whole time trying to pry him off of Bryce. 

"Sir, you need to- stop- sir, you need to calm down-" 

"YOU CAN'T TAKE ME AWAY FROM HER! SHES NOT- I'VE WAITED SO LONG-" He yells as arms surround his and lock under his armpits, trying to keep him still so he can be dragged away kicking and screaming with marks all over his arms from the EMT'S efforts. He can see at least a good ten people surrounding Bryce as she groans for "you to get off me, prick! Fix this, asshole!" But that doesn't ease Bobby, if not make him want to get back over to her even more. 

But he's being dragged away for his wounds. 

"No. You need to calm down and /sit/" the stern, albeit soft, voice of the EMT says, pushing him down onto a bench nearby with the slow fall of two other paramedics lowering him down to sit. Bobby looks to him with furrowed brows and a scowl "..YOU CANT JUST-" His efforts for fighting back are quickly shut down as another puts a hand over his mouth, proffesional, right? Effectively shutting him up. He gives an stern look to the EMT infront of him and slowly licks his hand to give him his freedom back, a devilish smile on his face for just a split second as the man wipes his hand away. But Bobby's soon back to the same attitude.

"Tell me what the fuck is happening with Bryce or I swear to shit I WILL GIVE YOU A FUCKING SEX CHANGE!" he yells, teeth bare and sharp as he tries his best to move and kick out of the paremedics grasp, but before one could get a word in, he frees himself out of their joint grasp after biting ones arm enough to draw blood. What? He was too close. 

Bobby allbeit bolts to Bryces side where she's being loaded onto a stretcher into the back of an ambulance. It wasn't hard to find her when anyone within a 10 mile radius can hear her yelling. The only people by her side are paremedics, not a parent to be found. 

Before he can reach for her, there's multiple men tackling him to the ground before he can get away.

*

Location: 'whatever the fucks' local hospital. 

Bryce is rushed into the loading dock and wheeled through the corridors and doorways, Bobby soon following behind as he sticks to the back of a paramedic, hoping to get in and through to Bryce. He doesn't know what the fucks going on and he can't lose her, not again. He's waitied almost ten years and isn't going to have Bryce ripped away from him again.

But he's soon ushered into a waiting room.. cell? He falls to the hard, cold floor and is met with shutting doors. Scrambeling to get to his feet, he's already yelling and screaming, pulling at the bars of this cage. 

"Calm your ass down. Lady got you down, kid?" A stern voice calls. And glaring to the side he spots an, officer? Something of the sort. Broad and tall, definitely the build of authority. 

Before yelling back, Bobby scowls with an angry expression, one knowing that he won't win this fight. With gritted teeth he gets out "No lady's got me down, and I'm not a fucking kid, shitbag. Why am I here." There's an uneasy rage to his voice that no doubtlessly registers to the officer. 

"Well then what's got you down, son? Mama got hurt?" The man asks with a gruff voice, looking way too interested in what Bobby's got to say that it actually irritates his soul. You're not /supposed/ to care about me. No one does. 

"No.. my fucking GIRLFREINDS HAD SOME SORT OF FUCKING HEARTATTACK-SEISURE SHIT AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCKS GOING ON, SO STOP /CARING/ ABOUT ME AND LET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING CELL!" He screams as his balls fist up while clutching the bars, voice going higher in the way it always has when he screams. Not noticing what he'd said in the heat of the moment, but before he knows it he's being berugantly let out of his cell by a scared looking man. 

- 

Squinting her bleary eyes, Bryce opens her eyes to a bright light and the smell of sanitation. Y'know, I didn’t think hell would be this nice. And then there's a flashing light. 

"-ust? Ms. Tankthrust? Ma'am, we know you're awake." A nurse instructs with the click of a flashlight. Okay, so not hell, but close. 

"What 'd fuck..." she slurs, her signature tone lost to the anesthetic. 

"Bryce, you've had surgery. We had to get a second party to approve your form with your mother denying to pay a fee. Do you know of a Bobby Worst? ..ma'am?" 

Bryce stares up to the nurse with a blank expression, save for her furrowed brow. Since when did Bobby change his name to wors-? "Wuh, I-... I'm sorry, you said a Bobby Worst?" she asks, voice in awe, but now more awake and aware. Her now signature tone present. "Yes. He's here to see you actually if-" 

"Bryce.."

Chapter Two of my Bryce fic: Another Chance To Fuck Up

(@Arlooh on ao3)

June 17th, i've worked so fucking hard to get back into this grey ass state and not even her bitche of a mom will let me talk. It's, not, FAIR. I only know that shes graduating because unique fucking monique and her excuse of a boyfriend have been yelling at each other outside the milkshake mania. I'm trying to sit at the fucking bus stop, not see a whore yell about how she gave her heart to him. Fuck that.

- 

Looking into the mirror of the thrift store changing room, he scans himself up and down, looking for any signs of "hey, I'm fucking poor, mind kicking my ass back to the penitentiary please?" as he forces himself to stand still and stop bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 He's fucking nervous. 

Wiping his hands down his jeans, giving himself a stern and harsh "whispered" talking to (he's been yelling into the mirror for 10 minutes, some employee as been asking him to leave for the better part of that, he won't) and fixing what makeup he has on, he turns and leaves the changing room. Giving a polite "Screw off, asshole!" and middle finger to the worker and swifly walking out without paying for a thing, only after sliding a sick pair of sunglasses off some dude waiting in line. 

-

But all that worry leads him to now, jumping a fence into the graduation event at 'Whatever the fuck' high school, so what if the entery was free, this is cool. 

The first thing he sees is probably the last person he wants to see, Tacky Tammy in the fucking flesh. And god, she looks worse than the last he seen her. That fucking bitch. 

Quickly avoiding that mess, he runs off to the right where he can hear people chatting, yelling, the typical American slang, and to behind the bleachers where he can finally fucking breath. He's only been up a few hours and yet it feels like hes been up for days, all the while having the energy to fight the thing people call god. "Where ever that old bastard is, he sure had a shit plan for me" he hisses as he lights up the last cigarette he's got, stole it from some homeless guy lastnight and yet it doesn’t make him feel any better about it. 

But blasting speakers, which are WAY to fucking loud mind you, go off right by my fucking ear "Five minutes till showtime everyone! I hope you've got your disposables ready! And no /flash/ please, thank you" God. Fucker sound like an asshole to be around, fucks he got to be so stern for. And why the fuck would someone flash the crowd at a high school. This isn't the big bang, we don't need to see that you bleached your ass, Marissa. But shit, 5 minites till showtime. And I was calling it that before grandpa over he did anyways..

He can barely see through the crowd of green gowns and capes to even see the stage from here, it takes him all of 5 minutes to climb out of the prison that is bleachers pressed to a wire fence. Good thing he's scrawny of else he wouldn’t have been able to get out in time to see the show that is Bryce Tankthrust. Fuck. To think that he ever hated her for what happened. All the hate he'd ever bared for Bryce washes away in a second at seeing her up on that stage, when did she straighten her hair? Whatever.

She looks fucking /good/, greens definitely my favorite coulor. Fuck, she can take green if it means he can see her like she is now. Even in a graduation gown. 

And for the first time in a long time, he smiles. Bobby smiles because fuck is he happy. He didn’t /mean/ to look like a smug bastard, even if he is. He's just happy. But nothing ever goes right for him does it. Bryce looked at him, right in the eye, could you belive that? But he just smiled back, but not when her prideful smile turned down and into shock. He hasn't seen that face since.. since he threw up all over her heart, the one that she took out for him to profess her love. Fuck. Shit, SHIT. 

He hasn't ran that fast in, ever. The second he seen Bryce drop, clutching where her heart is (right?) fuck, did he really do that much damage? He didn’t think it was /that/ bad, he just wanted to surprise Bryce after escaping and... he just ran through that crowd. Over the people who were starting to pile up on the stage, he didn’t give a /fuck/ if he got sent back now or to some place worse for doing what he did and all but growling for security to get off her, Bryce was fucking hurt and it was all his fault.

Bobby absolutely took this photo and no-one can convince me otherwise.

A nice date by the beach at the carnival? Yes. Did they kiss at the top of the ferris wheel? Abso-fuckin-lutely.

But looking over to Bryce, he snaps a photo of her. Up high, looking over the sea of people and flashing lights. All Bobby knows, is that if he can't rule the god damn world, he's got something even better in front of him for everyone to see instead. To be jelouse that a woman like her chose to be with Bobby, just some horny terrorist and his evil wife. Her and a super villain, yeah. He likes the sound of that.

Chapter one - An opportunity

A continuation of my previous Bryce graduation post.

(uploading here before ao3 (@Arloooh), I suggest not looking at my other bryce graduation post if you don't want to be spoilt!!)

-

You see, it all happened almost ten years ago to the day. It was like any normal summers day in school, bright uniforms and freah air, until unique monique and her stupid boyfriend exchanged vows (a fart machine) and became official. Boyfriend and girlfriend. And boy was it a sight to see, no longer was Bryce the main act, but these two losers who hugged like they were happy. /happy/. Something Bryce hasn't felt in years, not since she ripped her own heart out for Bobby only for the boy to empty his lunch all over it. She stormed away that day, stabbing Bobby's dad and stomping on what was left of her now broken heart, in two with glitter spilling out like some stupid analogy she'll get later in life. 

But that was then, and now is now. And today's graduation day. 

God has she had waited years for this. Having her heart ripped out only to have a shittier one put back in by "Dr" Paul from down the street, the /mortician/. But looking across the crowd that was once her playing game, pawns to put into place, she can't help the inkling of pride she feels knowing she won't be just like her mom. That she isn't just anothet high school dropout who swindels cash for a living. She's a top grade student who may have finessed a thing or two to get here, but she's finally here and that's all that matters. Not caring for the people that are around her. Sure, Cindy's a nice girl, pretty hair and straight teeth, but she's just a freind. She's no Bobby. 

Fuck. Bobby. 

It's been almost ten years, and even without her own heart to feel, she still can't get over what she did. What she's done. To the boy who, for a short ammount of time, she truly loved. But she's not sure she can call it that anymore, not sure she deserves to yearn for him after doing something like that. No matter the sleepless nights she's had week after week, or the notebooks full of apologies and dreams she could have lived out with him. With bobby. With... her Bobby.

-

Putting on a practiced smile, she shakes her head and follows the crooked line of soon to be previous classmates. Not bothering to look out for dear ol ma'. She's probably off swindeling princaple Higgans for cash anyways, she can’t keep her eyes off a cash cow when she sees an opportunity like that appear dressed in tight suits. 

There's filtered out chatter and banter around her as she walks in line, the speakers going off shutting down her day dream real quick. "Five minutes till showtime everyone! I hope you've got your disposables ready! And no /flash/, thank you." God. As if that entitled old dustbag has even seen a camera, you can't turn off the flash, prick. Not even that fancy camera mom stole could turn off that damn flash. Whatever, I'm almost up anyways.

Just a couple more people and here I am, shit, that really is alot of people. 

Looking over the crowd of graduates and parents alike, Bryce smiles. Truly smiles. Shes proud of what shes done, dredging her way through school after falling off her high horse all those years ago, but still remaning the powerful women she is now. Scanning the crowd, she looks for her mom, for the sliver of hope that she'll find her looking up and smiling back at her, smiling back with pride. But as she looks across the vast crowd, she spots a fermilliar smile by the bleachers and oh my god- 

Who knew seeing him would cause this rickety old heart to finally fail, ten years did me good huh..

Hey!! Just a heads up that my asks/questions are open if anyone's wanting me to write little post/ficlet or situation (as in "sam comes the the realisation that he's not so straight after all because of this, ect..) about any BRCU characters :) but I gotta say, I really do have a softspot for Arlo, Sam and Worstthrust :D

And maybe I'll expand some into full fics because God knows this community needs more :')

"You Broke The News!" Is out, during the escape route we get to bunker.. with a new group..

Now I see Donna, that's 100% her, BUT WHERE IS SAM?? YOURE TELLING ME MY BOY IS DEAD??? WHERE IS HE????

I know this is one of Brandons graduation photos, but I can't help but think of Bryce.

I know that little Brycies mam (mom?) Took her out of school when she was around 8, but for the sake of this, she finished school with the double diva diversion ect, still happening.

If anyone was going to be proud of her for graduating, for losing the boy she gave her literal heart to but surviving until graduation all those years later, you're damn right it's going to be herself. Even if her mom only showed up to pocket anything she could from bystanders and try swoon the principle for cash, she's ultimately what got herself here. Not her mom using /her/ sticky fingers to scrape by on rent and steal from former classmates, no, she's who dragged herself through school knowing that she's the one who did that to Bobby. To the boy she loved, loves? Wherever he is, she misses him and her heart breaks more and more each time she thinks of him.

So yeah, you could say she might have had a sharp breath or two when she sees a familiar face across the bleachers by the entrance, looking right back at her with that damn smile. Her face drops from the practised smile it once was, it's been almost ten years, she doesn't think her heart can take it. The shock. Seeing /Bobby/?

She tries to run after being stuck in place, but she drops. She drops to the ground, a hand clutching over where her heart once was as she gasps for air. For air that won't come. Seems like the heart "Dr" Paul, the /mortician/ gave her, won't last a lifetime after all.

She never was good at avoiding stress.

Yeah, yeah, whumptober with your favorite characters, yeah.. what about BRCU?? Sick Arlo, all at home trying to make mac 'n cheese before slumping down on the couch to feel better?? Tissues all over the ground, he doesn't know what he's doing, he hasn't been this sick in.. ever. His fever is high, nobody bothers to worry when he doesn't show up at the studio because it's a good day when he does show up. He doesn't know why he feels hot and cold at the same time, maybe he's dying? It's his best guess.

Maybe 2 days go by, Manjusha's wherever, maybe at work. And maybe Sasha eventually shows up, walks right on in because the door was left open and unlocked. Maybe she calls Arlos name a few times, get a sad sniff in response. Just maybe, she finds a sad, red nosed, sick Arlo huddled up in his rocketship blanket with enough tissues surrounding him to be a fire hazard and a half, looking more tired than usual. More... pathetic.

(Picture below is the scene for reference, more all over the place like. Just replace Ms.Bory with sasha :)) (NOT A SHIP BY THE WAY!! She's just worried)

(Also posted to me ao3(@Arloooh), and I hope to write it out fully there soon enough:))

We all know that Bryce was heartless, in all senses of the word, but I think what people fail to notice is how hard the constant work affected her in the long term. I mean, yeah, she's money hungry and wouldn't stop if there was a literal baby in her way, but she has a heart now, her own heart.

Those 30 years of constant upping the anti while working, working, working, and not to mention the /literal/ heartbreak over bobby, has eaten away at any energy and life she's got left. Now she's got Bobby alive, and she's finally seen as a hero again, all the while she finally has some time to rest after 30 constant years of increasingly harder work; but god she must be tired. You can physically see it in her face. You can see how worn down she is between the two pictures, and you KNOW it's not just because of age. Stress ages you ten times faster and god does Bryce have a story to tell.

SAM!! I'm only now realising that what Sam's wearing here, is what he's always wearing but without the vest.. how did I not know.. AND IT'S SO OBVIOUS NOW THAT I LOOK AT IT.

guh.

He looks so good without the vest too, very much giving preacher boy that's in the closet. Or 60's house wife. I mean Sam's not far off from that... ANYGAYS!

(See ⏬??)

"Hi, um, i'm Arlo and I'm looking for my parents. Do you think you could help me?"

Just Arlo walking out into the roads looking for his parents after being 'asleep' for 20 years, and meeting Manjusha. Her helping him and seeing how childlike he is in while watching TV and eating all sorts of things packed with sugar. I can't stop staying on the thought that, yes, Arlos now 26 (at the time) but must still have such a childlike mind from 'sleeping' through so much life and experiences. But then we skip to 2 years later, no longer is the childlike Arlo that first walked into the Tv30 studio, but someone completely different on the outside that had to grow and 'man up' in such little time and pretend to be so adult so quick. But on the inside? He's just a kid. A kid looking for his parents.

He had to go from 6 to 26 (and now 28) in a matter of months? (Mentally that is) along with trying to find his parents and being is all senses of the phrase, a completely different person than who he was before the incident. A mental age of SIX. And now he's supposed to act like he's got it all together? Go get a job? The kid was six just moments ago to him, but now he's a grown man. In matters of an instant to him. I can't even imagine the out-of-place-ness that he would have felt, does feel, so lost completely and just seeking out to find his parents, and then boom: 'adult' and going around smoking and drinking just because he's an adult now and that's what adults do.

You can SEE that he's still so young to himself in the gif when he first meets Manjusha, god It makes me want to give him a hug so bad.

Age regression wouldn't even be able to begin how he must feel, I just want to read something where Arlo finally gets the comfort and time to be like a kid that he needs :(

I can link the 2 or 3 fics I've found that Include comfort and time to be a kid again for Arlo if anyone is looking for something like that to read!

Just thinking about Arlo and how scared and sad he looked in that scene when he wakes up and the first thing he sees is Ms. Bory running over to his side to comfort him after being in a coma for 20 years. Poor guy didn't know how old he was, where he was, where his parents were, and what happened after he got hit in the head :(

The last thing he seen was his parents fighting, the last things he seen of his parents was them fighting

Waking up in his childhood room with all his teenage, and childhood years gone by; birthday cards left on his nightstand with the same wallpapers and bedroom he had when he was just a kid; the only sense of normality and comfort that he has. He's just a kid.

I'll never get over how bad Arlo's got it, and it makes me so sad that there's only 2 or 3 fics out there that highlight Arlo's childish tendencies and antics, how how struggles mentally or how sad he must be from having such a huge reality shift from being six to 26 and now 28. He's only been awake for 2 years and he just wants to go back to sleep :(

@steponmebrycetankthrust

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭

Bryce and Bobby are the fucking best.

Their cuddles are warm, and comforting.

Not to mention you get them every night.

Now, when you're upset, they treat you so well, better than they do already.

And they treat you wonderfully no matter what.

But they just treat you like literal delicate royalty when you're upset.

Blankets and pillows galore

Snacks galore

Anything you want, Bryce is screaming at Donovan to go get.

Anything you need, Bobby is racing out the door to get you.

They also give the best kisses.

Now, you may think that Bobby's kisses are sloppy but they're really not.

His kisses are soft and delicate and sweet.

Bryce doesn't kiss often, but when she does, it is extremely romantic.

She prefers to kiss your hand or your chest (as stated in previous headcanons)

Your nightly routine is... something.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥, 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭! 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲-𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦. 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡. 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤. "𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛."

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐢𝐞?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐬. 𝐍𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭. "𝐀𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 (11)," 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧 '𝐨𝐡' 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐫.

𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈'𝐦 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭.

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

@pinkrussianbarbie

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭🧍‍♂️), 𝐀𝐬𝐬-𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥)

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭

If you've ever had a broken heart, give your ex, or whoever did so, some money to flee the country.

They will hunt them down and will feel zero(0) remorse for whoever hurt you.

The cuddles with these two are absolutely immaculate.

You'll probably end up with cycles, sometimes with bryce and bobby on the outside, sometimes with you and bryce on the outside, etc.

...Neither of them can cook. At all. Whatsoever.

So that's up to you, unless you can't cook. Then that's why we have Donovan.

𝐁𝐫𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭

(𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥.)

It takes her... a while to fully trust you, even after you start dating.

Once she does fully trust you, expect her to absolutely kill for you.

And I don't mean that metaphorically.

She has a habit of just.. randomly kissing your chest in private.

Not in a sexual way, but as a way of "kissing your heart."

She cherishes you. Absolutely cherishes you.

Her PDA level isn't that high, the most she'll do in public is either a kiss to the lips or to the cheek.

On occasion, she might hold your hand.

𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭

Okay, I'm just going to get this out there now: he would die for you, kill for you, hell, he'd serve you his own head on a silver platter if you were mad at him.

He'll do your makeup if you ask, but it's a little... over-the-top.

He tends to just randomly kiss you.

If you have an apartment and he lives with you, you could pass by him in the hallway and he'd yank you towards him, kiss you, and then continue on his way as if nothing just happened.

Like Bryce, he cherishes you.

His PDA level is very high.

Kissing, hand-holding, hugging, it's all on the table for him.

If he were to spot someone flirting with you, he's not afraid to come up to you and grab your ass for funsies.