#choptops

it's stress that triggers it ― or any prolonged period of time spent trying to suppress it. they had been out picking up supplies for the eldest to make something for dinner , && nubbins had felt eyes on him from the moment they stepped into the store. today he felt on edge , features scrunching , head twitching with more frequency than usual. && though he had tried to keep himself as still as possible while in the public eye , it became obvious he was teetering on the edge , no more than a small breeze was enough to make him fall ( keep it together , don't cause a scene. ) the younger twin had at least managed to get back into the car before all of the urges came rushing out in hurried , hard motions. head jerking back almost violently , over && over again , with only small moments of reprieve. they drove back quickly , busting through the front door && robert barking for bubba to put what they had bought away before helping his brother back up to their shared room.

nubbins has found it helps to lay on his back during times like these , climbing onto the dirty mattress on which he normally slept. he can already feel the burn in his shoulders && neck from the involuntary moving of his head , features scrunching && then releasing , clearing his throat , sucking in breaths && letting out small chirps. his fingers curl tightly , forming fists which one lifts to bang on his chest ― it's painful , though it's something he's grown used to. he can feel the bed dip beside him , his twin sitting down next to him. if his jaw wasn't so tense , nubbins would have said something , thanked him for staying by his side even in moments like this. but he can't. the only thing he can do with his mouth is clench his jaw , sneer out of one corner before being able to relax ; though it's only temporary , once again being hit with the instinct to do it all over again.

these sorts of attacks normally only last about half an hour , though sometimes can be longer. all the while robert stays at his side , sliding a pillow underneath him to ease some of his brother's thrashing. nubbins can hear him , of course , && the reassurance does bring him a sense of comfort through all of this. over time the frequency of his movements subside , body left burning && sore but relieved all the same. once enough control over himself has been restored , the younger twin reaches over to brush the back of his knuckles against his brother ( a silent indication that they're coming to the end of it all. ) a dark gaze peers up && robert looks down , offering him a small smile && a reassuring pat.

sender flicks blood at receiver to annoy them | @choptops

threaded needle is held delicately between large, calloused finger and thumb as the older of the two pierced fine point through flesh. once, twice, under and up, over and over again. creating laced backing to which he could tie this fresh mask closed at the back of his head, when he replaced the one tossed off onto workbench, already long forgotten and unneeded in his mind.

thomas, ever so focused on this task — focused on doing what makes him feel handsome, feel pretty — when he spots another rain of red droplets fall against the back of his hand, another few landing against his arm.

like clockwork comes deep mutter from him, telling his younger cousin to simply, “stop.” once again — for the twenty - third time.

but he knows that yet again, bobby isn’t quite listening to him.

another giggle sounds off to his right, and he can hear the thick sloshing of blood-filled basin underneath the body of whom this new mask once belonged to — and he knew that bobby was reloading his fingertips to strike once again.

thomas’ eyes glance upward slightly, as if rolling them, and he lowers the mask in hand, and sets needle down. and turns to face his cousin, at such perfect moment—

to get that spray of flicked blood across bare face.

a blink. and then another. as he stares silently at bobby, expression dead on features, eyes glowering beneath lowered brow. and without a word, he stands to full height, closes distance between then, and hoists him up like he was nothing, turning on heel and carrying him to opposite side of the open space of his basement room.

with bobby protesting up over his shoulder, thomas finds an overhang of the rafters above their heads, and with little effort once more swings bobby across it, “trapping” him up there. he stares up at him, ignoring hissy fit that resembled that of a stray cat, before turning and going over to blood-filled bucket, leaning down to dip his own fingers in, scooping out plenty onto pads of fingers, before returning to his spot below bobby and - flicks the blood up into his face in return.

"Not for the better am 'fraid."

Such a sad sight, the once proud farm house that they all grew up in and had such fond memories for was now an old ramshackle shadow of it's former self. Wooden beams barely holding themselves together with chipped white paint, doors that would only take a firm shove to take them off of their hinges and do not get her started on the rot of the floorboards.

"Ah tried to give the ol' girl a lick of paint and a few face lifts but not even Johnny can fix the main issues forever."

She may need to go traveling once again, try and find some rich idiot who she could rinse for some capital before coming back with enough to fix up the home. Looking back to the elder Sawyer before speaking once again, this time in a more cheery tone.

way too close memes

play-fighting memes