tickletorso
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300 posts
I exist to follow stuff I like --  art, niche publications and media, a few poets, and Rumbelle.
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tickletorso · 2 months ago
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Coming Soon… RSS 2024
Hello and the most wonderful 1st of October to everyone!
It’s your mod from last year, @thedeaddollscorpse. I really enjoyed hosting Rumbelle Secret Santa 2023, and @deliriumsdelight7 said I could do it again if I wanted to (Thank you, Del!). And I do! I hope all last year’s participants had fun and that they enjoyed the event as much as I did.
Anyway, it won’t take long before this beautiful October turns into November. And you know what happens in November… The sign-ups for RSS 2024 will start, of course! So, start thinking up your prompts! (I’ll post a more detailed schedule at the beginning of November)
Have a lovely Autumn 🧡🖤🧡
-TheDeadDollsCorpse
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tickletorso · 2 months ago
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HUH
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tickletorso · 2 months ago
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😂
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sorry for the continuous toxic middle-aged man yaoi posting 😔(lying)
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tickletorso · 3 months ago
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Countdown to leaving Prague. Nothing special about a cup of coffee outside, but right now it feels like it’s everything.
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tickletorso · 3 months ago
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I’m making a bunch of DarkCastle! Rumbelle stickers (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。
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tickletorso · 3 months ago
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A warning about AI crap
@giannaaziz1998blog this user browses through art-related hashtags and steals your work, AI-fies it and posts with the same hashtags as in your original post. It could be a bot, it's getting hard to tell at this point. For example, that thing saw my post, stole my very old non-glazed sketch, slapped AI on it and posted with exactly the same hashtags, even though some of them aren't related to it. Also restricted replies, of course, and blocked me. Please, block and report them, I'm not the only artist who was "blessed" with this abomination.
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tickletorso · 3 months ago
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tickletorso · 3 months ago
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At this point, where is the OUAT support group for the trauma we all went through.
Shipping wars, bullshit story writing, and our favorite characters traumatized for 7 seasons of a series full of bad writing and not so happy endings.
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tickletorso · 3 months ago
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If you clicked the last option, please send an ask to the blog and I’ll answer your questions there for everyone’s benefit.
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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Emotional overlap, Venn diagrams
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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student!Belle x headmaster!Gold au moodboard (suggested by @taexxggu)
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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If you clicked the last option, please send an ask to the blog and I’ll answer your questions there for everyone’s benefit.
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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YOU'RE THE NICEST PERSON AND I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND ME SAYING THAT I LOVE YOU IN ALL CAPS IN YOUR ASKS
You can all caps me anytime!!! Especially to tell lil ole me that you love me 😊
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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Yay update day! 🥳
Covetous | Chapter 20
Pairing: Nostelle 
Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.
[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7] [chapter 8] [chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11] [chapter 12] [chapter 13] [chapter 14] [chapter 15] [chapter 16] [chapter 17] [chapter 18] [chapter 19]
[read on ao3]
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Belle couldn’t explain the nerves she’d woken up with at the thought of meeting with Kathryn again that afternoon. If anything, she should be less nervous for this second meeting instead of more, but maybe it was because a second meeting meant they were closer to the trial, even though there’d been no date set for that yet.
The sooner the trial, the sooner Nosty might end up in prison, and she didn’t know if he’d survive there. Of course she’d visit him, and of course she wouldn’t hold a prison sentence against him, but he valued his freedom above all. He’d been incarcerated before, but never for a felony sentence like this would be. A sentence like that might break him.
At least she didn’t feel the need to impress Kathryn this time, so she didn’t spend longer than usual on her outfit—a belted herringbone dress and yellow cardigan—and arrived at work in a good, if slightly manic, mood.
She shelved her books, gave Kaz more construction paper for the paper chain—almost long enough to drape around the reading room it was for by now—and read more books than usual for story time. 
Ashley was coming to relieve her when she left to meet Nosty at Kathryn’s, but since she couldn’t ask her to work just two hours, she came in at lunch. 
“What’s all this?” Ashley asked when she spotted the paper chain. Kaz blinked at her.
“It’s decoration,” Belle said. “Can you reshelve that cart?”
While Ashley worked, Belle sat at the circulation desk and browsed new titles she could start ordering next month. 
Her phone buzzed around one, but it was just Nosty confirming Kathryn’s address. She sent him a thumbs up and then, on a whim, a heart, and then blushed for no reason. Sending a heart with an address confirmation? His art purchase had turned her even sillier than she’d been.
Kaz appeared in front of her, and she jumped.
“Sorry.” Kaz grinned, not sorry at all, and Belle smiled in response. 
“I wasn’t paying attention. What can I do for you?”
“It’s getting a little out of hand.”
She was not wrong. When Belle took one end of the paper chain and Kaz took the other, it spanned almost the whole main area of the library.
“It looks like it’s time to hang it,” Belle said. The two of them trooped into the reading room with a stepladder, tape, and arms full of paper chain, and Belle stood on the ladder while Kaz held the bundle of paper and handed Belle tape.
“What else is going in here?” Kaz asked, watching Belle like she might tumble to her doom at any second. 
“I haven’t decided yet,” Belle said. “What do you—oh, hang on.” 
She pulled her buzzing phone out of her dress pocket, but when it was only Joseph, ignored it. She could call him back later.
“Anyway, what do you think?”
Kaz shrugged. “What’s the theme?”
Belle chewed her lip, surveying the colors in the chain. Either Kaz had taken care to make sure there was never a double of any color, or she’d gotten lucky, but it was a lovely rainbow gradient.
“Maybe something with clouds? Like a beautiful day after a rain?”
She didn’t blame Kaz for her baffled look, but without any further ideas, she climbed back down the ladder to scoot it a meter over and climb back up.
With one hand on the paper and the other holding tape, her phone buzzed again. Belle sighed and stuck the tape to her palm, fishing her phone out again. 
“Joseph? Everything okay? I’m in kind of a precarious ladder situation.”
Holding the phone between her ear and shoulder, she tried to position the paper where she wanted it again. 
“A precarious ladder situation?” Joseph asked. “Is everything okay with you?”
“Yes, just hanging some decor.” 
“Sorry, I’ll leave you to it, then,” he said, and then hung up.
Too precariously on her ladder, she did not have the energy to parse what had just happened, so she just slipped her phone back into her pocket and taped up her paper.
It took them another fifteen minutes to get the chain fully hung, and in the end, they had to remove about ten links from it.
“It’s perfect,” Belle said. “Maybe I’ll get different shades of construction paper and just hang loads of chains.”
“Do I have to make them all?” Kaz asked, wrinkling her nose.
Belle snorted. “You don’t have to do anything. You are a volunteer, not an employee. Are you hungry?” 
Kaz nodded, so they headed out to the snack cart and Belle poured herself a cup of coffee. A quick glance at the wall clock told her she only had about ten minutes left to drink it before she wanted to leave for Kathryn’s office. 
“I’ll be leaving early in a little bit, just so you know,” Belle told her as they headed for a table. Ashley had taken over the circulation desk, and there was no point in Belle disturbing her now.
“What for?” Kaz asked. 
“I have to meet with my solicitor,” she said. There was no reason for Kaz to assume the solicitor had anything to do with Nosty, so that was safe.
“Solicitor? What for?”
Belle really should have prepared for that question. “Just routine,” she said, hoping that Kaz was young enough to believe that routine visits with solicitors were normal.
“Can I stay a bit longer?”
“Sure.” Belle shrugged. “You’re welcome any time.”
They drank together in companionable silence until Belle had to retreat to her office to pack up and go, and it was just as she was hoisting her purse over her shoulder that Joseph burst in, collarino falling off and hair sticking up every which way. 
“Joseph!” She was too shocked to moderate her tone. “What’s wrong?” 
Joseph licked his lips. “Belle, I’m so sorry.”
It was like he’d dumped ice on her. There was only one reason he’d be sorry enough to rush here—something was wrong with Nosty.
“What happened?” she asked. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe someone had stolen her car or something. Maybe he’d relapsed.
“Can we talk outside?” he asked. 
“Okay.” She locked her office with numb fingers, barely remembering to wave to Ashley and Kaz as she followed Joseph to the parking lot.
Nosty wasn’t there, though she hadn’t expected him to be.
“What is it?” she asked, sounding like a stranger to her own ears.
One of Joseph’s hands reached inside his jacket, but returned empty. “Belle, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?”
“Of course,” she said, too busy imagining Nosty lying dead in a ditch or dead in a pew or dead impaled on kitchen knife to question this direction in the conversation. 
“Nosty left.”
The images froze. She hadn’t heard him right. Nosty hadn’t left. Sure, yesterday therapy had left him raw, and even though he didn’t tell her what they’d talked about, she knew it had been harrowing for him. But she’d spent hours on the phone just being with him, cheering him up, she’d thought. He wouldn’t have left. Not again, not like this.
“What?” she said. She couldn’t see anything other than the blue roof of her car right in front of her.
“He left.”
She clutched her keys hard enough to hurt and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Belle?”
“No.” She shook her head, opening her eyes. Nosty had no reason to leave. But then, Joseph had no reason to come all the way down here just to lie. “He wouldn’t.”
“Yes, he would,” Joseph said, and before Belle could even begin to scream, he raised his hands in surrender. “And I know he would, because—because it’s my fault.”
Belle frowned. “What do you mean?”
Joseph looked as though he’d prefer to be anywhere but there. “I said some—well, some awful things. And he stormed off and said he was leaving.”
“What did you say?” It didn’t make sense. Had Joseph tried to defend her honor or something? Had he told Nosty they’d kissed?
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just—it was bad.”
“It does matter.” It mattered because what if it was nothing? What if Joseph had quoted the bible and Nosty had run off citing freedom of religion? Or what if he’d mentioned the kiss and Nosty had left in a jealous rage?
“Please, Belle, I don’t—” He wrung his hands, then touched one to her wrist. She laid a hand over it in reflex. “I’m so ashamed.”
“What could you possibly have said that was that bad?” 
Joseph closed his eyes, and she thought he was going to continue not answering, but then he threw his hands up.
“I said he had shelter and food at my mercy, and—” He pinched his bottom lip. “Well, I guess the implications were that I could take it away for any reason.”
It took Belle what felt like hours to process these two sentences. She kept trying to rearrange them into something that made sense, but they kept being awful. After an eternity of Joseph watching her like it was only a matter of time before she tore his throat out, she closed her eyes. Nosty was gone again.
“How could you do this to him?” she whispered and then, louder, “How dare you do this to him. You’re the one who offered him a place to stay!”
“Belle, please, I’m so sorry.” He touched her elbow and she tore it away, unlocking her car with two angry punches to the fob. 
“Don’t touch me,” she said, and he raised his hands again. She yanked her door open and threw herself in, needing to get as far away from Joseph as possible so she could cry.
“What are you doing? Where are you going?”
She glared up at him, into his helpless face. She wanted to slam her car door into it. “I’m going to find him, and if I can’t find him, I’m going to go tell his solicitor exactly what happened and try to keep him out of prison.”
“Let me help you. Please, Belle.” He grabbed the top edge of the door. “It’s the least I can do.”
“You’ve done enough.” She tugged the door out of his grasp and shut it, unable to look at his wounded, desolate expression because it just reminded her of Joseph another lifetime ago, a Joseph who’d held her and called every hospital in town.
Did that Joseph even believe in her either?
She started the car, and when she put it in reverse, Joseph backed away. He was calling her name, so she turned the radio on, and then all she could see as she backed out was him clasping his hands in a plea and mouthing Belle, wait! to the too-happy song playing through the speakers.
****
MacAvoy stared at the empty space where Belle had been until well after she’d gone. What had he expected to happen? He’d gone and fucked it all up again, just like he’d always known he would. 
For this, he deserved a drink.
****
Belle cried the whole drive to Kathryn’s, a fresh wave of tears coming every time she phoned Nosty and he didn’t pick up. She wanted to have faith in him, and maybe if she had longer than twenty minutes to process, she would, but now it felt like Joseph had picked the scab off an old wound and driven a knife into it, and all she had to stop the bleeding was her fingers.
She parked a block away and dug some napkins out of her glove compartment to fix herself, though there was nothing she could actually do about her makeup except wipe the tracks of mascara off her cheeks. At this rate, she’d be late meeting Kathryn, but she was sure the solicitor would understand.
As put together as she could be under the circumstances, Belle got out of the car and forced her legs to carry her to the office building.
Then, when she turned the corner, there was Nosty, smoking a cigarette at the picnic table and reading. She blinked and shook her head a few times to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating, then sprinted to him, heels and all.
He closed his book and stood, opening his arms to receive her with an oof as she barreled into him.
“Oh my god, you’re here.” She squeezed him so tightly, she could feel his ribs.
“Said I would be, didn’t I?” He rested his lips atop her head, and she could have cried again. “I guess you talked to the Father.”
“I thought you were gone forever. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” 
He shrugged. “Didn’t want to let him off the hook if he was with you.” 
“Nosty, I am so, so sorry.” She turned her head so she could breathe, loosened her grip just a hair, and rested her cheek on his chest.
“Don’t apologize.” One of his hands came to rest on the back of her head while the other stayed curled protectively about her waist. 
“What happened?” she asked. She had been too frantic to ask Joseph any followup questions, and she considered now that, maybe in her panic, she’d overreacted. Safe in Nosty’s arms, the rage that had filled her seemed so far away. 
“He’s fucking mental, that’s what happened.” 
She wanted to look up at him but couldn’t bring herself to lift any part of her from any part of him, so she just slipped her hands under his jacket to clutch at the back of his t-shirt. 
“He told me what he said,” she said. “But he didn’t tell me why.”
Nosty didn’t speak, so with a tiny sigh, she leaned back to look at him. If she didn’t know better, she’d say that the pink tinge on his cheeks and the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes meant he was embarrassed. Embarrassed of what, though?
“Nosty?” 
“You might be mad,” he said.
Of course. Of course she might be mad. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Joseph had come to her to self-flagellate, but he didn’t want to tell her what Nosty said because he didn’t want to incriminate him. She would have to apologize to him later, but she would be the judge of what did and didn’t make her mad.
“Lay it on me,” Belle said.
He tapped her left arm. “Need to get in me pocket.” 
She moved out of his way and he came out with a folded piece of paper that looked like it had gone through a washing machine and handed it to her
Accepting that she would have to let go of him eventually, she unfolded it and scanned quickly. As she read, her cheeks warmed with heat she could not acknowledge standing on a public lawn. This was Nosty’s clean bill of sexual health, just like the one she’d received over the phone yesterday. 
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would I be mad?” 
Nosty shrugged, his feigned nonchalance as familiar to her now as his jacket. “Joseph seemed to think it was presumptuous to go without you.”
She had never felt so stupid in her life as she did trying to process each tiny piece of information about this conflict. It seemed so easy to understand, and yet every time one of the men said something, she had to pause and deconstruct every single word over and over before she got the picture.
The picture, as she best understood it, was that Joseph had somehow found out that Nosty had gotten tested and then lost his mind. 
“How did he even know?” she asked. 
“Belle, come on, you don’t want to hear anymore.”
Belle frowned, folding the letter back up and handing it to him. She was opening her mouth to say something but was saved the trouble by Kathryn calling their names. Nosty turned, and they both waved as Kathryn made her way to the picnic table with her legal pad, a cup of tea, and Joanna in tow with two more. 
“I figured you’d want to meet down here again,” Kathryn said, taking her seat. Joanna set the cups down and then fled back inside.
“Thanks,” Nosty said before Belle could, and she could have fainted with shock. 
They joined her at the table, and Belle forced herself to focus on the matter at hand instead of trying to figure out what had happened today. 
Kathryn had gotten Nosty a court date for three months from then, and Nosty grimaced. Belle wanted to grimace as well—as long as he was out on bail, they were free—but she just took his hand under the table and squeezed. 
“I think we should talk about the actual trial,” Kathryn said. “We want to make Nosty look as sympathetic as possible. I know his story is sympathetic, but you know how juries are.”
Nosty snorted. “Aye.”
Belle didn’t know how juries were specifically, but she knew how people were. She knew what people saw when they saw Nosty. 
“So, first thing’s first, I don’t think you should go by ‘Nosty’ in court.”
Belle bit her lip to keep from saying anything, especially when Nosty yanked his hand away to fold his arms. This was his call.
“Why not?” he asked. “Never been a problem before.”
Kathryn raised an eyebrow. “Were you found innocent before?”
Nosty’s glare held no fire, and Belle almost laughed. “No.”
“Okay, so what is your real name?”
Belle watched Nosty and Kathryn watch each other like it was riveting cinema. Nosty had the full force of his glare turned on the solicitor, and Kathryn just smiled blandly in return, not moving an inch. Finally, Nosty huffed.
“What if my real name is worse?”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kathryn said. 
Nosty glanced at Belle, and she only shrugged. “You’ve never told me your real name, so I can’t help you.”
He groaned, fingers tapping against the bench like they weren’t attached to him.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me,” Kathryn said. “It’s all your choice. But if we put you on the stand and say, ‘This is Nosty, he assaulted a cop,’ they’re all going to say, ‘of course he did.’”
“Fine.” He snatched Belle’s hand up again, and she squeezed his fingers. “It’s Fraser.”
“That’s not bad at all,” Kathryn said, jotting it down. “Last name?”
Nosty mumbled something. Belle and Kathryn both leaned closer.
“Didn’t catch that,” Kathryn said.
“I said, that is me last name, and it’s dead to me.”
“After this, you never have to acknowledge it again,” Belle said. “Though it probably wouldn’t hurt to get some ID.”
“I guess Nosty Fraser isn’t so bad if you really don’t want to give a first name,” Kathryn said. “It doesn’t really roll off the tongue though, does it?”
Nosty glanced down at Belle. What did he think was going to happen? She’d hear whatever his name was and immediately turn against him? 
“Nosty, we’ll still call you whatever you want,” Belle said. “This is just for the court.”
He groaned again, then slapped his other hand on the table. “Fine, it’s John. Happy? I’m just a sad, boring fuck named John, just like every other bloke in the fucking UK.”
It took a herculean effort for Belle not to laugh, but she forced down her amusement as Kathryn made a long note on her pad, much longer than just the word “John.” 
“Oh, Nosty,” she said, and when he glared at her, she couldn’t stop her eyes crinkling. “Just because your name is common, it doesn’t mean you are.”
“It’s perfect is what it is,” Kathryn said. “John Fraser? Who’s afraid of that guy?” 
This statement did not help soothe Nosty in any way, but Belle’s snickering seemed to take the wind out of his sails, and he loosened his grip on her hand.
“Fine, but if I hear it outside of the courtroom, I’m knocking both your heads together.”
It was such an empty threat, even Kathryn smiled. 
“Duly noted. Now, your look.”
Nosty spluttered. “What d’you mean? This is how I fucking look.”
Kathryn shook her head. “Not in court, it isn’t. Do you have a suit?”
“Do I have—”
“We’ll get one,” Belle said, patting Nosty on the hand. “What else?” 
“Keep it mute, sedate. If it looks like church clothes, it’s perfect.” Kathryn took a sip of her tea, giving Nosty a chance to settle, and then said. “You’ll want to be clean shaven as well, and I think you should shave off the locks.”
“No.” Nosty shook his head. “Absolutely not. D’you know what I’ll look like with a shaved head? A fucking skinhead, that’s what. No.”
Belle studied him, and he probably wasn’t wrong. As skinny and gaunt as he was, he would certainly look threatening in a new way if he was bald as well.
“If you shaved it off now, it would have plenty of time to grow back,” Kathryn said. “Just think about it, okay? If you show up looking like a clean-cut former altar boy, it’ll make a huge difference, especially with Belle there.”
Nosty cast her a helpless look, so Belle squeezed his hand again. 
“We’ll think about it,” Belle said. “We’ll definitely think about it.”
“Good.” Kathryn smiled, making a few more notes. “Now, let’s talk a bit more about our defense.”
****
Nosty was quiet as they walked back to the car, hand resting loosely in Belle’s. She thought the meeting had gone well, but then, she wasn’t the one Kathryn had lain bare. 
“You don’t have to do any of it if you don’t want to,” Belle said. “I mean, I think you should wear a suit, but you don’t even have to do that.”
Nosty grunted, so she said no more, content to swing their hands between them. Once in the car, Nosty dug through her purse for the snack she always brought him, and a swell of affection ballooned in her chest.
She drove off, though she wasn’t exactly sure where she was going. Obviously, she wasn’t taking him back to the church right now, but would he go back later? She still didn’t exactly know what happened.
For now, she’d drive to her flat, and then they could walk somewhere to get dinner. Maybe once Nosty calmed, they could talk more about the hair.
He polished off the bag of crisps she’d brought, then rolled the window down to stick his head out. Even the thought of what happened with Joseph couldn’t quash Belle’s happiness right then. Nosty had pulled his disappearing act, but he hadn’t disappeared on her. This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? For him to prove that he was in it for good?
“Belle?” Nosty rolled up the window.
“Mm?”
“You’ll still look at me if I look like a skinhead for a few weeks until me hair grows, yeah?”
She glanced at him, then grinned. “Of course. Besides, I think if we go to a professional instead of me shaving it in a bathroom, they might be able to salvage some.” 
“You think?” He pulled the mirror down and bunched up his locks, tugging them back and studying his face. He wrinkled his nose and shut the mirror. 
“You really don’t have to cut it, Nosty.” She squeezed his knee, but couldn’t keep her hand there since she needed it to drive.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it anymore.”
She frowned, almost hitting the car in front of her when she glanced at him. “What do you mean?”
“Eh, it’s like—” Nosty moved his hands like he might find the words in the air. “It’s like armor, right? That’s what the shrink says, I have all this armor, like me kilt.” He plucked at the kilt. “But I don’t need all of it anymore.”
She smiled at the road. “You don’t?” 
“Nah, I’m not going it alone anymore. I’ve got you now.”
Belle was on the verge of responding when what he’d said hit her, and the words disappeared. I’ve got you now. 
It was the sign she’d been waiting for, and if she did not kiss him immediately, she would disintegrate. She turned onto the next street, pulling into the first open space she saw while Nosty watched her with a furrowed brow.
“Belle, what are you doing?”
She put the car in park, unbuckled her seatbelt, then grabbed his face and planted her lips on his. 
“Got it,” he said, and then his hands were in her hair, and he was biting her lower lip, and she was pressing herself as close to him as she could with the console in the way. 
“Nosty,” she sighed into his mouth.
He bit her lip again and then dragged his mouth off hers to kiss down her jaw, holding her head still. 
“Yes, love?” he growled.
“I couldn’t go another second without kissing you,” she said. “I forgive you.”
He groaned, surging toward her and then stopping to glare at the cupholders. She laughed, but she felt the same.
“We should probably get going,” she said, though she tilted her head back as he kissed down her neck.
“Are you kidding? Get in the back seat. My cock is clean as fuck, let’s go.”
She felt his smile against her neck when she snorted, but he did bring up a good point about all the things they could now do. “Come on, let’s go on a date or something.”
“What’s with you and dates?” He pulled himself off her neck, and she took the opportunity to kiss him once more before turning to the wheel. She didn’t want to be in this car anymore.
“I like you,” she said. “I want to date you.”
“There are too many other people,” he said. “I want to just be with you.”
“Maybe another night, then?” She wasn’t giving up on being able to do things with another person. 
Nosty’s hand slid across the console to rest on her thigh, and she could have melted. “If it makes you happy, love.” 
“You make me happy.”
He grinned, and she could not get them home fast enough.
****
MacAvoy didn’t know how he made it, but he’d walked all the way home from the library. It took hours, and it was only the pain in his feet and legs and stomach that reminded him he hadn’t died.
He wished he’d died, but if the look on Belle’s face as she drove away from him hadn’t killed him, nothing would.
He knew he shouldn’t have bought a bottle of whiskey on his way home, but what the fuck did it matter now? At least it was cheap so he wouldn’t feel guilty about wasting money as he poured it straight down his gullet.
Nosty’s presence had never been a comfort until now, when his absence loomed over MacAvoy like the grim reaper. He dragged himself through the barren church, up the stairs to the kitchen. 
There was still plenty of food, but he didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted oblivion, the void.
After grabbing a mug from the dish rack—Nosty’s from that morning—he sat down and plopped it onto the table with an angry thunk. 
With weak, trembling hands, he unscrewed the cap off his whiskey and sloshed some into his mug. Sweet relief would be his soon, but when he brought the mug to his nose and inhaled deeply, he coughed. The smell made his eyes water. 
No matter. He tipped the mug back, ready for the joy of alcohol, and when it touched his lips, he gagged, the smell so horrendous, his stomach lurched.
“Fuck.” He stood, glowering at the bottle, and then he hurled his mug, followed by the bottle, against the door, relishing the shatter of glass and ceramic much more than he’d relished the drink.
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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Jennifer McChristian aka Jennifer A. McChristian (Canadian, b. Montreal, Canada, based Glendale, CA, USA) - Off Season Oasis, Paintings: Oil on Panel
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Underage Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold Summary:
Belle and Mr. Gold first encounter each other when she's just sixteen and the connection is palpable. Two years later a missed bus to Boston throws them together again igniting a flicker of hope in them both. But if Gold has learned anything it's that life can be cruel and it seems Belle has been on the receiving end of its cruelty one too many times.
Rating will go up!
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tickletorso · 4 months ago
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Congratulations!!!!!!!!!!🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳
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APPLE JACKS!!
Congratulations, Apple Jacks. It was a long competition and a fierce rivalry, but you emerged victorious. You are the Showdown champion for 2024.
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