#the mandela catalog fic
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I forgor (TMC Fanfic)
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Do you ever forget something that you KNOW you know? Like when you write something so many times it's a given, a muscle memory. Doing it over and over and knowing it as a part of you.
Then your muscles just, , , don't remember.
Muscles not remembering something is such a weird thought though, cause that's the thing, they don't have thoughts, his chest isn't deciding to move up and down.
I mean yeah, there are electric impulses through the flesh, and that is all thoughts really are when you get all "existential" and nitpicking about it but, , , it's different. There's probably a science behind that somewhere, how muscle memory works.
He doesn't know, and even if he did it didn't help any now, as he grips the pen.
It was fucking stupid, to be scared this fucking sticky piece of paper. His chest stalled with his breath. He grips the pen harder in his hand, hard enough that his hands are sweaty and that it creaks a bit. This was insane, it was the worst. The paper still stared blank tho, offensive.
Just, just write it down, he tells himself. Fucking, write it down and move on with it. How could he not remember it?! It's just, that's something you KNOW, and how could he not? Was his chest even moving? He knew who he was, what he was here to do and just, , , just write it down, fucking write it down. His chest wasn't moving, how could it be moving, it didn't know to move, cause it didn't know anything and it didn't know what it was and-
"Adam, dude, the fuck is taking so long?"
Adam looks up. There was air in his lungs. He was breathing. Air, air in his lungs like there were supposed to be. They were moving again cause that's what they were supposed to do and it knew that.
Jonah stands there, an eyebrow raised and that stupid fucking lopsided grin on his face as he waits for an answer. His stupid fucking silver hair all falling in his face, and wearing that sweater that smell like a walking drug bust.
Jonah gestures to Adam again.
" Dude, you still a little~?" Jonah made a motion with his hand like he would be pulling a cigarette away from his mouth, a muscle memory for him, probably, those fingers with the black chipped nails had done it enough times. You could probably guess that about him without even knowing Jonah like Adam did.
Adam pulled a scowl on his face and shook his head, bending his head to write as Jonah snorted that stupid light laugh that sounds like he'd never been on the ground long enough to hurt.
"Hi, my name is- _____"
Adam scribbles down "Adam", slapping the sticker on and dashing after Jonah, bumping shoulders with him in the way only friends do and Jonah going to ruffle his hair, Adam easily dodging it with a grumble and Jonah with a laugh, both of them walking further into the building.
#its been yeaes since i wrote#this shit is just as anxhch as i remember#this post is sponsored by my friends encouraging me to such evils#the mandela catalog fic#the mandela catalogue fic#the mandela catalog#thr mandela catalogue#tmc fanfic#fanfiction#tmc adam#tmc jonah#ghostlyghostyghostbastard#fanfic#Ghostly-Writings
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uh oh! bad decision cesar!
#based on a fic i wrote#art#digital art#fanart#fan art#mandela catalouge cesar#the mandela catalogue#the mandela catalog fanart#mandela catalogue#alternate#mandela catalogue alternate#metaphysical Awareness disorder#if ur wondering his method of death its knife btw#gear boxes art#cw: bright colors#he's gonna do something really bad to his health uh oh
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Okay, so once exams are over...
Preface: l am tagging this with my fics because I want people to see this and vote so I can get a good idea of what folks want. Please, don't click off, I want to know your thoughts, guys!
Once exams are done I'll be a free woman/ sandwich/ creature... thing. Basically, I'll be free to have a bout of creativity that I haven't really gotten over the past two years due to working towards these exams.
As a result of this freedom, although I'll be working on fics here and there, I really want to make a proper start on my original work. I did have the beginnings of it on a sideblog, but I ended up not being all too happy with it, so that didn't really take off.
Nevertheless, I do want to actually make a proper start once I'm free from the clutches of science papers, and I was wondering if folks would be up to having a little look at my wares and being wee 'guinea pig readers'.
For those who are reading 'Bloodhound'... yes, the WIP does contain werewolves. For those who like 'Mandela Catalogue'... yes, it does involve eldritch horrors that are vaguely biblical, and Satan is one of, if not all, the horrors. For those reading 'Absolutely Cursed', mhm, I hear you. It is terrifyingly questionable.
To those who want clarity... it's werewolf Satan. I've planning a werewolf Satan saga. I... Oh God 👁👄👁.
Um, yay?
Bear in mind that we have got weeks until my exams are over, so don't worry - I could end up chickening out on putting up anything original WIP-related!
Thank you for taking the time to vote - it's much appreciated <3.
#writing#original work#bloodhound fic#absolutely cursed#guess who got inspired by mandela catalog last year >:)#polls!#tumblr polls#Bacon being borderline blasphemous again#yes you head me werewolf!satan#no I am not joking nor elaborating further#followers go vote!!!!
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One thing is like to mention is there is a lack of platonic x readers in multiple fandoms
The Magnus archives ? Found a few but not many
The Mandela catalog? Again very few platonic fics
The scp foundation? Quite the lot of monster fuckers In that fandom and very few platonic readers
Marvel? I have not found much
There’s way more fandoms too, I need platonic fics for my Demisexual heart
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Chat Log Name : Mixtober
Chat Log Description : basics of the event!
Hi everyone! I have decided to kind of step out of my comfort zone, only for this event is based in October which it’s a mixture of the options which can be kinktober (you choose the scenarios), autumn prompts, falling into fall, and Otp October prompt, or Outlastober! Please let me know in dms or comments if you have any questions!
[Requests are loading… 3% out of 13%]
But the request doesn’t have to be from the above options since it can be headcanons with a small fic, a one shot! (your choice really!!)
Below here are the rules for requesting!
What I will do
Yanderes for any option ( except for kinktober!)
Any trope / AUs if requested
Anything that isn’t on what I will not write!
If you're requesting for kinktober/NSFW requests, here’s some rules! [LIMITED REQUESTS TO 2 to 4]
What I will not write!
Bodily fluid kinks (ex. spitting, watersports, scat.)
Threesomes or Foursome
Non-consensual sex
Any requested yandere characters!
The Mandela catalog characters!
Welcome Home characters!
Daddy / Mommy kinks
Step-parent / Step-sibling
Incest
Public scenarios
Requesting for horror / thriller requests!
What I will not write!
Cannibalism
Incest
Non-consensual sex
Have fun requesting!
#the mandela catalogue x reader#tmc x reader#the magnus archives x reader#tma x reader#ghost band x reader#ikevamp charles x reader#outlast 2 x reader#outlast whistleblower x reader#outlast trials x reader#the outlast series x reader#yandere idv x reader#identity v x reader#elden ring x reader#cybird ikemenvampire x reader#idv x reader#yandere x reader#dead by daylight x reader#dbd x reader#welcome home x you
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Saw you were accepting requests but wondering...requests for what? Do you do art? Hcs? One shots? Also what exactly do you write? Yandere? Ooor....sorry for all these questions but didn't see anything listing what you exactly write/draw.
Btw...I'm also autistic! So if you did have it typed somewhere and I didn't see it? I apologize in advance.
Also nice to meet another crk fan!
OMG YAYAYYY FIRST ASKKKK!! OMG IM SO EXCITED!
Some of the things I talk about can be an analysis on two characters relationships within any of the listed medias that were there? I can do headcanons for any characters, that being NSFW or SFW, fluff. I can do mini one shots or give prompts for fanfics I can draw lil shitty doodles or even attempt to make characters from the listed medias in gacha life 2, anything really! I can post about scenarios or fake conversations between characters!
For example, someone could ask for a one shot prompt for Yandere!Caine au (Caine is from The amazing digital circus) or someone could ask me to do an analysis on the relationship between Rire and Strade from boyfriend to death, I could even write a “dead dove, do not eat” fic about Ted and Ellen angst.
When I mean anything, I mean anything .
When it comes to the analog horror stuff you Gotta let me know what analog horror series you want me to do it on! Like for a more lighter side The Mandela catalog or on the more intense side Urban Spook!
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Take A Break
Disclaimer: I do not own Mandela catalog or it’s characters.
Parings: I had platonic in mind while writing this but it could be read as jonadam 🤷♀️
Characters: Jonah Marshall, Adam Murray
Summary: Adam refuses to take a break from working.
A/N- I wrote this also very late at night and it’s very lazy but that’s when I got motivation to write and also I had ler!jonah and lee!adam on the brain 😥
If it wasn’t obvious already, this is a tickle fic.
Please don’t read if it makes you uncomfy. ❤️
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Adam was at his desk, scribbling notes about ghosts and demons and what not.
He’d been at it for hours, refusing to take a break.
Suddenly he heard a knock on his door.
“Yeah?” The door opened and it was none other than his best friend/roommate.
“What’s up, asshole!” Jonah said, playfully.
He walked over to the desk where the blonde sat.
The desk was littered in empty water bottles and crumbled up pieces of paper with little notes scattered about.
Jonah frowned. He hated when Adam overworked himself.
“Really dude? Again?” He crossed his arms and glared at the clearly exhausted mess.
“What?”
Jonah raised a brow and gestured to the messy desk.
“Come on man, this stuff is really important! Especially the notes…I have to know that stuff!”
Adam tried to make an excuse; Jonah was not having it.
“Adam, you shouldn’t work this much. You have to take a breather every now and again.”
The blonde rolled his eyes and continued his studies.
Suddenly, Jonah was hit was a mischievous idea.
“You know, I’ve heard complaints about a monster in this very apartment..”
Jonah tried to sound as serious as possible.
Adam perked up a little, clearly interested in whatever ‘monster’ Jonah was on about.
“What kind of monster?” He asked curiously.
Jonah shook his head.
“I don’t think you wanna know…”
Adam grunted in annoyance as he punched his friend in the arm.
“Of course I wanna know, dumbass! What is it?!”
Jonah sighed.
“Well… I tried to warn you.”
“It’s the…” he paused for dramatic effect.
Adam’s curiosity was evident on his face.
Jonah made claws with his hands.
“THE TICKLE MONSTER!!” He yelled with a playful growl, clawing at his friend’s ribs.
“Wait- What- hEHEHEY!” Completely taken aback, the blonde immediately shrieked and tried to squirm away from the evil fingers.
Of course being in his chair still, he couldn’t go very far.
“WHAHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOING?!”
“Well, based on your reactions…I’m pretty sure I’m tickling you. I could be wrong though.”
Jonah grinned.
“Although, I’m usually not wrong.”
Hearing Adam laugh was always a treat.
Sometimes, Adam could get really grumpy; Whenever that happens, Jonah usually tickles him until he feels better.
It may be silly, but it always seemed to work.
“You haven’t been taking very good care of yourself lately… are you sure you still have all your ribs?”
Adam’s eyes widened, he knew where this was going.
“I-I do, I dohoho!!” He twisted in his seat, giggling in anticipation.
“Hm, I don’t know…I better make sure. Better safe than sorry, right?”
The attacker laughed when Adam frantically shook his head.
“One.. two..” He pressed fingers into each rib he counted, which proved to be very affective.
Adam screeched and twisted his hips, eyes squeezed shut while a bright smile forced its way onto his face, unable to conceal his joy.
“SHIHIHIHIT!! JONAHAHAH!!”
“Adam! You interrupted me. Now I have to start over.” He huffed. “Oneee.. twooo…”
The blonde hid his face in his hands.
“N-NOHOHO! SOME- SOMEWHERE EHEHELSE!!”
He pleaded through his laughter, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
Jonah laughed with him.
“Okay okay…Somewhere else.” He pondered, giving the boy a breather.
Noticing the others shirt had risen up from the rib tickles, he smirked.
Without warning, he wiggled his fingers into the patch skin.
Adam squealed, his laughter rising in pitch.
“Aw, does someone have a ticklish tummy? That’s so cute!”
Adam’s face flushed a dark red at the teases.
“NAHAH! SHUT UHUHUP!! J-JoNAH!”
“Hate to break it to you Adam, but Jonah isn’t here anymore. Just the tickle monster!”
As much as Jonah loved listening to Adam’s precious laughter, he knew he’d have to wrap it up pretty soon.
“You know, I’m kind of hungry.” He hummed.
“T-THEN GEHET FOOD FROM THEHE K-KITCHEN!” Adam snarked.
Jonah grinned deviously, knowing exactly how he wanted to end this.
“I don’t want food from the kitchen…” he started.
“I want… Raspberries!” Suddenly, his lips connected to the blondes stomach and he blew several lazy raspberries.
Adam squealed as loud cheerful laughter fell from his mouth.
Snorts and hiccups mixed with the laughter as mirthful tears rolled down his red cheeks.
“JONAHAH! NOHOHO!! IHIHIT T-TIC-TIHIHICKLES SO BAHAHAD!!”
He felt Jonah smile into his skin.
After one last raspberry, Jonah pulled back and let the poor boy relax.
Adam went limp in his chair, panting heavily while leftover giggles escaped.
He tried to pout at Jonah despite the silly smile on his face.
“You’re a dihihick..” He lightly smacked Jonah in the arm.
Jonah laughed.
“You know you had fun~”
Adam’s blush returned.
“I-I did not!”
“You never told me to stop…”
Adam groaned in defeat.
“Whatever…”
#mess writes#tmc tickles#sfw tickling#mandela catalogue tickles#tmc#mandela catalogue#lee!adam#ler!jonah#adam murray#Jonah Marshall#tickles
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welcome to my blog! thank you for reading this before interacting ♡
୨୧ ˚ ₊ ֗ byf and dni ♱𝅼 𝜗𝜚
before you follow : i write dark content such as dubcon, stalking, somnophilia, yandere themes, violence, death, gore, abusive relationships and other topics. i am not writing these themes for my or your entertainment but due to trauma and other factors, so do not follow me or block me if you think that you're going to feel offended.
i am a minor who writes a hefty amount of nsfw & dark content cause of internet access at eight, so if you don't like that don't follow or block me. don't come looking for trouble.
do not interact : racist, homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic, xenophobic, -14 or 25+, romanticize abuse, zionist, age up minors for nsfw content.
୨୧ ˚ ₊ ֗ rules ♱𝅼 𝜗𝜚
please be patient with my when requesting! i'm not a machine.
feel free to request characters that are not on the list, either i've forgotten to add them or i don't belong to that fandom! im may still know enough about it though to write your request.
i only write for black, chubby, curvy female reader! anyone is free to read my work, just don't be weird.
i have every right to decline a request.
୨୧ ˚ ₊ ֗ how to request ♱𝅼 𝜗𝜚
i'm only good at long fics LMAO so if you request something else it might not be up to quality, sorry :((
please state the character's name and their respected fandom.
state the type of reader it is. for example: girlfriend reader, wife reader etc.
state the genre you would like! angst, smut fluff and / or dark content.
most importantly, state the plot! things like aus, specific things you want to happen, or specific things you want you / the character to say!
more detailed description = better quality writing!
୨୧ ˚ ₊ ֗ what i write for ♱𝅼 𝜗𝜚
animanga : trigun stampede, devilman crybaby, junji ito collection, prison school, scott pilgrim, attack on titan, jujutsu kaisen. black butler. castlevania and dramatical murder.
celebrities : peter steele and ezra miller.
other: the world of mr plant, marvel, the stanley parable, baldurs gate 3, love death and robots, marvel, ok ko, creepypasta, call of duty, sonic prime, arcane, danganranpa, blue eye samurai, detroit become human, fnaf, the backrooms, genshin impact, rick & morty, hannibal, dream daddy, inside job, moral orel, ranfren, resident evil, sally face, dc, star trek, atsv, the mandela catalog, the arcana, and luxiem.
#vivihrt#anime x female reader#various x female reader#female reader#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#lana del rey aesthetic#girlhood#coquette#hell is a teenage girl#various x black reader#anime x black reader
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theres like an spn crossover with Mandela catalogue and gabriel spn is actually Mandela gabriel and also it's angst
Hello, my dear!
I actually hadn’t heard of the Mandela Catalog and to be honest analog horror freaks me out. The analog horror and false gods totally are what give me the creeps the most and oh it did not disappoint. So one, thank you for giving me this wonderful new show to discover and scare myself shitless with. I love it. I only watched the first one which, yay, it was the Gabriel one. So so good and freaky just *chef’s kiss* thank you again for mentioning it. I'm kinda just gonna assume you're sending an ask about fics, but I will completely look for anything written about this because I love this idea. I honestly love this idea so much my brain came up with two musings. Thank you again for the awesome ask ❤️
In my head, Gabriel here is both SPN Gabriel and Mandela’s Gabriel. I did use some lines directly from both Overthrown and Changing Channels.
My foolishness will be my legacy,
If there is a god… please help me
The words were etched into his grace and echoed with every call of his name, they all had fallen prey to him. So many humans were fooled so easily begging to change their decisions, their choices, and their end. All calling out for a God that had left them eons ago.
He’d be at this for years. There to draw on their fears and hopes and watch as they called for the father that had left them all. He was so close to what they wanted, what they expected. It was so simple to be something else, to hide his fallen form and be close to them.
The two vessels weren’t any different, the game hadn’t changed. Tricking the humans that so easily believed his well-spoken lies had always been simple and illusions had become just as easy to bring to the world as it was to sow his deceit. Humans weren’t worthy after all.
He didn’t think them differently, even as they failed to kill him and he watched them leave with wrath and contempt. He didn’t care how fun it was to play with them, how interesting they may have been. They would ruin his game. Either of his brothers coming to this plane, the plane that had been his for far too long would ruin it. Despite himself, he followed them, hunted them, and tried to deter them, but humans are foolish. He’d known for centuries of their weakness and they were no different.
“Where'd I screw up?”
It had finally happened, his game would end and so would everything else.
“Mostly it was the way you talked about Armageddon.”
“Meaning?” His voice was filled with irritation, eyes roving the circle that had trapped his slinking form and contained his human shape.
“Well,” the shorter hunter smiled, shrugging his shoulders as he narrowed his eyes on him. “Call it a personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family.”
“So which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?”
When his favorite brother’s vessel spoke again, his eyes narrowed on him. The lips he had become so used to twisted into a sneer when the parallels of his kin didn’t drop their glares.
It had been centuries since he needed to speak the name. His presence had always been enough to drive the humans he played with to their own conclusions. Enough for him to be anyone that suited him best for his trick.
“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.”
He preened at the response his heavenly name brought the hunters, pleasure rising at the incredulous twist of Dean’s brow and the hitch in Sam’s voice.
“Gabriel?”
The pause in the taller vessel’s words brought a wider grin to Gabriel’s human features, his contained form twisting with laughter and amusement. They were still fools.
“The archangel?”
The twisting too wide grin didn’t fade, laughter echoing in the ether.
“Guilty.”
His game was over and he was guilty of so much more than just how he had twisted the name given to him by his absent Father. He had been the fool thinking the humans- these humans could be taught and overcome what Gabriel knew to be fate. It would come, they would come to his new home and ruin it before he was done playing with his Father's favorites. It was the part of them that wormed in his grace that wanted his brother once more, his family. It was foolish, to long for something so buried and lost amongst the echoes of time and screams.
When he saw him, it was foolishness that brought him to Lucifer’s blade. Foolishness of humanity, of destiny, and longing. They were still so foolish, but he had spent too much time here. The vessels so much like mirrors to those he had forgotten had ripped something inside of him. Bleeding an idea within the fallen celestial, a need to be seen rising from the depths of his blackened grace.
He had seen and been their weaknesses for far too long and listened to well to the men he had tracked. He had learned to like this world, his game, their imperfections so ready to exploit. He was foolish he thought as he looked into his brother’s matching darkness that twisted with ire at being refused once more.
My foolishness will be my legacy, if there is a God… please help me.
The words were etched into the burnt outlines of his wings on the rotting floor and echoed throughout the ether.
I hope you enjoyed it! I also had another little musing that I thought I’d share. More of a swap-out situation that takes place between Sam getting his soul back and season 13.
They think they know him…
The hunters are so clever,
But they are fools.
“Gabriel?”
Sam couldn’t keep the question or hesitance out of his voice. His eyes roved over the familiar vessel before him. His feet shifted, unconsciously moving closer to his brother beside him watching the grin that should have been as familiar as the short vessel before them was.
Dean didn’t budge from his spot as his eyes narrowed on the archangel whose smug smile wove over his smile. “You lived?” His fingers clenched on his blade.
“You doubted it?” Gabriel’s brow raised, arms crossing over his chest as he watched them.
“For fucks sake,” Dean hissed glaring at him before turning around and walking away, waving a hand behind them and dismissing the celestial for Sam to handle. “Dude, no.” If Gabriel was back the events that seemed to mimic a trickster made sense and Dean hadn’t dragged himself out of the bunker for this. “I’m going to get something to eat.”
The taller Winchester huffed, his head snapping to Dean as his brother walked away before looking back to Gabriel who was chuckling and shifting on his feet. Questions spun in his mind as he looked over the vessel that hadn’t aged nor changed in the years since they saw him last. Sam’s fingers went to his palm, squeezing it roughly as he blinked rapidly. He swallowed when the grin nor the archangel vanished.
“You’re here…”
Gabriel blinked at the shadow of misguided hope that lingered in the disbelieving voice. His eyes fell on the taller Winchester, his grin fading for a moment before returning with blinding strength. “‘Course, Sam. I’m much more than an archangel after all.”
Humans are so easy.
So willing to believe,
To be deceived.
#asks and answers#thank you so much for the ask#horror#spn gabriel#the mandela catalogue#musings#angst#your interatctions feed my muse
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SO UUH HELLO HELLO,
I would just like to say that Im most likely not gonna post much on here and stuff so don't expect anything- I may or may not write some Madcom T-word content- but like here's some stuff about me-
Stuff I like:
Music, art, Madcom T-word fics, Alcohol(local underaged drinker here),Doggos, Mah online father, and a lot more stuff I can't think of because I'm to dumb to think rn
Fandoms I'm in:
Madcom, Wdy, FNAF, South Park, Welcome home, TOH, Helluva boss, Mandela catalog, and a lot of more random shit I can't remember
Stuff I HATE:
Being called a girl(because I'm trans and I believe I'm a real boy🥹), ARMAZEL APOSTOL(BIG FUCKING BITCH FROM YOUTUBE), My (irl)family😔, Myself😘, SLEEP👹........And a lot of other stuff🤩
MY BIGGEST FUCKING FEARS:
Abandonment, getting yelled at, Failure, The fawcing monster under my bed😔🙏, Getting publicly humiliated
I also cannot say the T-word at all- it's hard to say for me😭
AND SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YE THATS PRETTY MUCH ITT-
oh also here's my first ever attempt of drawing Deimos-
SO LIKE DONT MAKE FUN OF ME ITS MY FIRST TIME DRAWIN HIM😭😭🙏
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Dancing in the Dark (Thatcher and Ruth)
Note: I have heard that both the creator and the actors who played both characters have said they’re okay with this ship. If I hear otherwise, I’ll gladly take this down.
Ship: Thatcher Davis x Ruth Weaver from The Mandela Catalog.
Fic Type: fluff with angst towards the end. SFW.
Warnings: alcohol mention, smoking, mourning.
Description: in the darkness of his apartment, Thatcher recalls a treasured memory of his: a date night gone awry… An old jacket. An old song. An old pair of eyes, despite everything, still gazing up at him in the back of his mind.
Things had not gone according to plan tonight at all. The original idea’s simplicity still stood out as better, for sure. Go out to get some dinner, have some drinks, talk awhile…head home. It had been a while since Thatcher had spent time with Ruth that involved…actual free time. With the invasion of these strange, demonic alternates spreading like a wildfire, work never stopped, and places closed down left and right. This one bar kept itself open though, and they figured they might as well go…while they still could.
That…was not what happened though.
Weaver had come barging in through Davis’ door, basically mowing him down in the process. After recovering his footing (thereby peeling himself off of the rug), he saw a distorted face charging towards the door. He had immediately slammed the door again by practically slapping himself against it, and held it shut tight.
Weaver, meanwhile, shoved various pieces of his apartment furniture in front of the doors and windows just in case the thing tried to break in. Luckily, this seemed to be one of the alternates that…did its job rather poorly. However, what it lacked in intelligence, it made up for with great persistence. It stayed. And it could probably still kill them.
And so, Davis and Weaver had sat on the kitchen counter in the dark, near the tiny, slightly open window, with the shades drawn. Waiting.
Thatcher sighed, pulse finally slowing.
Well. Date’s off. Sucks.
Weaver cracked a joke to break the silence, now that her own heart had stopped pounding in her ears.
“What were you gonna get anyways, Thatch?”
Immediately, a glare from those tired eyes hit her, laser-focused. She quipped,
“My guess is a beer, with that face.”
“You’d be right. Lemme guess…a screwdriver for you?”
“You know me so well!”
“I sure do…”
Chuckling dryly, he reached into his pocket, fishing around inside. Muttering a curse under his breath, he gave the pocket he’d dug around in an audible slap.
“What happened?” Weaver piped up, concern tinting her voice.
“I wanna smoke…meant to get more earlier. Forgot.”
His coworker reached into her shirt pocket. Buried amongst the pens, she had hidden two cigarettes.
“I was gonna go out on the deck when we got our drinks.”
“Weaver, I knew there was a reason I liked ya.”
A soft chuckle met the compliment.
“Oh please. I knew you’d forget. Told you to write it down.”
“Nobody’s got time for that, baby—“
The corner of Thatcher’s mouth lilted upwards as he poked the cigarette between his lips and flicked his lighter open, leaning in the direction of the window.
“Hey, uh…hit me quick-“
“Oh, here—“
The Lieutenant got the lighter going again and his partner moved in a bit closer. They’d done this before. As he lit the other end for her, he watched her eyes. She’d always said they were plain, but he loved them. The way they shone when she smiled, as she was now. That little hint of red beneath the deep brown.
“Uhhh, Thatch? I think that’s good.”
He snapped out of it.
“Huh… Oh!! Yeah, yeah; sure.”
Nearly dropping his own cigarette, he cleared his throat, scooting away from her.
“What? I don’t have cooties or anything.”
He blew some air out of his nose, snickering.
“You sure ‘bout that?”
“Take a chance on me.”
Truthfully, he’d always so much hated how he couldn’t seem to stay serious around her for long. Had a reputation for being one of the toughest on the force, but every time they’d driven around together, any seriousness about him went totally sideways. She always teased him for it. He’d snap back, but he’d tolerate anything for that laugh.
Some frightening whispers slowly came from outside. They’d been there a while, but they’d stayed in the background. Now though…they almost started to take effect. Almost. Immediately, every hair stood on its end. They shared a stare. With a vigorous shake of his head, blowing smoke everywhere, Thatcher hopped off the counter.
“Nope. Nuh-uh. No.”
Moving at a breakneck pace, he slid to the cassette player that rested on the opposite countertop, getting it going at max volume. He nearly slipped back, forgetting he wasn’t wearing his boots.
“Shhh—“
Weaver swung forward, giggling.
“You’re gonna break your face, idiot.”
Thatcher blew smoke rings at her, smirking.
“Yeah, okay; and then you’ll have to drive me to the hospital with that thing on your—“
“Hey!”
It was his turn to laugh, grabbing an empty coffee can he’d fished out of the trash as an ashtray.
“This’ll do, I think.”
Wrinkling up her nose, she grinned, sneering.
“No no, that won’t do. How dare you not have a proper ashtray, Davis, I say! I’m ashamed to call you my partner.”
“Didn’t know my partner was a snob. Learn somethin’ new every day, huh Ruth?”
The two of them just laughed, finishing their cigarettes and dropping them into the can.
For a while, Davis swung his feet back and forth, looking down at the floor. Well, this was kind of awkward. Ruth drummed her fingers to the beat of the music.
The track changed.
It took her a moment to recognize the song. Once she did, she snapped her fingers, letting out one of those famous laughs.
“Ha! Thatch, I didn’t know you listened to this kinda stuff!”
Thatcher met her with a raised brow.
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong with it. Just didn’t picture you listening to it.”
He made a very flamboyant gesture with both hands, flourishing them out in a fan shape.
“Well, now you can not only picture, but behold.”
Ruth laughed again, swaying her head from side to side to the beat.
“Hope you’ve got more cassettes around here.”
“I got dozens.”
“Good. At the rate this thing is going, we’ll have listened to them all.”
Thatcher watched with fascination as Ruth jumped down from the counter.
“Hey, I got an idea.”
“Mmm?”
Extending her hand, she smiled sheepishly.
“…dance with me?”
The Lieutenant blinked rapidly, his eyebrows arching.
“…Ruth, really?”
He feigned disinterest. She’d laugh at how overeager he was otherwise. They’d warned him that she was pretty as a picture before he met her. They were sadly correct. Jokes had circulated the whole department for months now.
“Yes, really. Big stick in the mud over here.”
In a way that was almost cartoonish, she plunked her unextended hand down on her hip, harrumphing.
“Look, I don’t care if you have two left feet. I don’t even care that you’re not wearing shoes! I just figure…”
A little smile broke through the pout she put on.
“…we might as well have some fun, if we’re stuck.”
Rolling his eyes in her direction, he raked his hair out of his face.
“Fine, I’ll bite. No need to throw a fit.”
“I’m not! Lighten up already…”
Sliding off the counter, he clasped her hand, resting the other one against her shoulder. Suddenly aware of his heartbeat racing again.
Deep breaths, Davis. Deep breaths.
Why on earth did she make him feel so nervous? He pondered it as the two of them looked down at their feet, lining up their movements. Like a mirror image.
Ruth was a great dancer. He’d seen her at a company party. It wasn’t the alcohol steering her either. She just loved to dance. Even back then, she’d extended her hand, and adamantly, he’d refused, much to her greatly dramatized disappointment. Truthfully, he was just afraid to make a fool of himself in front of her…and of course, the rest of the precinct.
Everyone else seemed to disappear when he was with Ruth.
“You shoulda said yes!”, Dave had kept telling him. He’d bemoaned the constant nagging, and insisted heatedly that if he ever got the chance again, he’d say yes.
Like that would ever happen.
But here they were, gliding across the living room floor. His hand in hers.
“Hey, guess you’re not a total square after all, Thatch. You’re pretty good!”
“I feel ridiculous.”
“Yeah. You sure look it. Take a compliment, baby.”
…baby?
It hit like a ton of bricks.
Thatcher, though he was hesitant, gave her a spin. Dark hair fluttering behind her as she twirled, resting against him briefly, looking up at him.
He hoped she couldn’t feel how warm he’d become. Half of it was breaking a sweat from dancing…the other part, well…
“What’s the matter?”
“Uh…oh, nothing. Just wasn’t expecting to go dancing tonight is all.”
“Well, we can stop if you’re tired—“
“No!! …no, Ruth, I-I’m good.”
She squinted at him, giving him a wry smile.
“Whatever you say, Fred Astaire…”
A slower song followed. Weaver stared at him, surprised.
“Geez…hopeless romantic, huh?”
Ouch. Felt like a knife to the gut.
“Sure, you keep thinkin’ that—“
“Oh, don’t bail on me now—“
Without warning, she swept him into the typical slow dance posture.
Thatcher had quite literally had a dream about this. Dave had known something was up that morning, but like he’d ever tell him something so embarrassing. It was especially weird to see her after the fact.
His mind kept racing.
Oh she’s going that way. No no, slow down. Just be careful…oh gosh, I’m squeezing her hand—aaaand, I’m on her foot.
Ruth looked up at him snidely.
Say something, idiot.
“I’ve got something underfoot.”
Brilliant.
“Yeah, it’s me, you big oaf.”
Thatcher snorted. The remark caught him off guard.
“Awww, the little piggy’s out again!”
“Oh, shut up—“
“Okay, then pick your foot up and keep going, before I kick you with mine.”
“Whatever you say, Miss Weaver…”
With a quieter laugh, he began to sway her gently again. This was beginning to feel more natural. The steps becoming more put-together and less clumsy.
Again, why did everything else disappear with her there?
That thing could have come in through the window and they’d both be dead in the water…why didn’t he care?
If that freak doesn’t kill me, the embarrassment of having to explain this to Dave will.
“We should do this more often,” she chirped.
“…I don’t know when we’d get the time for that, though.”
“Good point. Maybe once this blows over?”
“…you got it, baby.”
Her eyes practically disappeared as she beamed.
The song wound down at the worst time.
“Ah. And you were just starting to figure out the rhythm!”
He teased Ruth, poking his tongue out at her.
“Well, who’s to say I can’t pick this one up a little quicker?”
A thought suddenly dawned on Thatcher. A thought he couldn’t ignore.
We’re not smoking. We’re close together. Maybe…
“…maybe. First though…would you let me try something? Just for a sec.”
This could be the end for me. She’ll want a different partner after this.
Ignorant to his panic, Ruth grinned boldly.
“…try me.”
Slowly, he unwrapped his fingers from around her hand, cupping the side of her face. His fingers were trembling, he hoped desperately that she couldn’t tell. Resting his thumb on her chin, he moved a little bit closer.
She’s gonna pull away…now.
But she didn’t. Ruth just looked up at him, eyes slightly wider, but actually starting to move her head forward too.
Clumsily, their teeth clacked together.
“Ow—“
“Ouch—!”
No, we’re doing this—
“Take two-“
He pressed forwards, setting his mouth in the correct shape this time. Just like that, his lips were on hers. He closed his eyes as she kissed him back. Thatcher felt like he was melting.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed someone. Probably high school, he guessed. He hoped he’d somehow improved since then, despite having no practice.
She didn’t pull back at all, he broke it off. To come up for air, mostly.
His heart was leaping out of his chest, he was sure she could hear it. It physically pained him to open his eyes.
Wonder what snarky comment I’ll hear from this. Surely I’ll get one. She always comes up with something.
But Ruth was silent. Gazing up at him, starry-eyed. Her cheeks were rosy. He could feel his own face burning up, must have been burgundy.
“…whoa.”
He screwed his eyes shut and popped them open again.
“Um…Ruth?”
“Yeah?”
“You have any idea how long I wanted to do that?”
“No. But I wish you did it sooner.”
Another hard blink.
“Get out.”
“I uh…I can’t…”
“Pffshh—“
That broke him out of it. Suddenly he was laughing, nearly doubling over. He couldn’t stop giggling. This felt like finally talking to the girl in homeroom. Ruth chuckled right along with him, redder than ever.
“What?”
“You actually…”
He stood up straight again.
“You wanted…this?”
“…I could write ‘oblivious’ on my forehead and you wouldn’t see it.”
Thatcher just rolled his eyes.
“We both have some ridiculous ways of saying ‘I like you’, I guess.”
Silence hung for a moment. It was a gentle silence, like a soft breeze.
“Hey.”
“Mm?”
“Can I try?”
“Wha—“
Her hand caressed his cheek, and he understood fine.
“O—oh!!! Yes, yes—please~”
She drew him close, leaning into him as she kissed him. He could have floated right off the ground.
After a while, Ruth pulled back.
“…you’re good, Davis. You are good.”
His face broke out in a grin, leading her back in with his arm, rocking them both to the new song.
“You’re still better.”
________________
That same song played from that same tape recorder. Scratchy and weathered by now, after so many times of playing it again and again.
Thatcher laid face down. He’d lost the tape behind his bed somewhere about a year ago, and had absentmindedly popped it in as he tried…and failed, to sleep.
He’d completely forgotten this one. Had thrown it in a fit of anger a few days after the worst night of his life.
He pulled Weaver’s jacket in closer, practically burrowing into it. Taking a deep breath.
Thatcher had always found it strange how she wore such a sickly-sweet fragrance. He always kind of hated it. Sugary things made his stomach turn. But it was her scent, so he’d never tell her to stop.
He was glad he hadn’t. The day this didn’t have that scent on it anymore…that was the day he’d really lose it all.
Thatcher could feel the eyes of the thing that occasionally took up residence in his closet. Her eyes.
No.
No, those were not her eyes.
They were the plastic button eyes on a sick taxidermy of his former best friend, and love of his life.
Dead. Because he was too afraid.
Another fit of ragged, uncontrollable sobbing seized him, tears soaking the flannel lining of the jacket. He cried over her every day since she’d been taken from him.
My girl. They took my girl.
What he wouldn’t give to see her holding out her hand, and asking him to dance, with that coy little smile again.
The jacket was practically smothering him at this point, but he didn’t care. It was like he was burying himself in her. That was the ideal. At this point, he wasn’t sure of what truly happened to those who died, but he prayed, to whomever would listen, that Ruth could forgive him, and give him the strength to make it to the end of this.
No matter what that looked like.
I’ll dance with you again one day. If you still want me, after what I let happen to you. Then it’ll all be worth it.
Wrapping the jacket sleeves around himself, he whimpered through his teeth. How he wished to feel those fingers running through his hair again.
The thought of seeing her in the future wasn’t enough to remedy the pain that worked its way into every part of him. Rolling onto his back, he looked up towards the ceiling, gasping hard for breath.
One way or another. We’ll be together again…one day. I’d fight a billion of these myself if it meant you were here in my arms again.
Sweat and tears ran down the sides of his face, he was sure he looked horrible. But all he could think about was her.
I love you, Ruth. I’ll love you until the day I die…and beyond that.
Someday, baby…
Someday…
#the mandela catalog#mandela catalog#analog horror#thatcher davis#ruth weaver#thatchruth#thatcher x ruth#tw smoking#tw alchohol mention#tw mourning#unreality#tw unreality#mint writes
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QHHHH THE NEW CHAPTER IM OBSESSED...,.gododdd. I love this au its actually driving me insane ...VERY pos
Aaaghhh, thank youuu, I'm so glad you like it !!!
it's the creature I keep in the corner of the room and occasionally show and tell right now with how busy I've got so thank you for the patience
#my au lol#the mandela catalog fic#ghostlyghostyghostbastard#Sanguine Such as Celestial Spirits May Bleed#Sanguine au
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I read all of your Mandela Catalog Cesmark fic and I love you forever and ever it’s so GOOOOOD TJEKRJFKDKN
Glad you enjoyed, more good things are coming (:
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admin intro:
crows
hello !! our name is corvid or crows , we use it/zomb/sweet pronouns , aux being he/him. no they/them unless specified otherwise. we're an m-spec gay genderhoarder , audhd , probably bpd but the american healthcare system is ass so that's not been confirmed. we're also nonhuman; alternate (mandela catalog) , angel , undead irl. our bias is changbin, felix is close 2nd :3c
we like collecting things , esp fashion magazines , plushys , hoodies , pokemon cards , art supplies , basically anything shiny tbh- our name is crows for a reason.
there's probably gonna be at least some crossover between my posts here and my other special interests , because some of them are weird / creepy / uncanny / etc we'll do our best to add content warnings if needed.
most of what we post is gonna be little incorrect quotes and edits , stuff like that. we also have our own skz fics account, @ur-boyfiend
our main account is @deadcrow-donteat where we mostly just post random crap.
we're open to requests for incorrect quotes / edits / etc , if you have a fic request that you send here it'll be posted on boyfiend either way , but it'll be linked when we reply to ur ask ^^
our carrd if you want more info on us :)
we're hopefully gonna be opening art comms soon but we have like. negative spoons at all times rn so who knows lol.
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Ehe i am writing a mandela catalog fic and
Jesus fucking christ what the fuck
YOO
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You should draw Jonah Marshall dog metaphor maybe ..
This took criminally long for me to draw, I am sorry TWT
Thank you so much for the ask, I was ecstatic seeing it!
Idk if you meant my au for Sanguine Jonah now that I look at the ask closer but if you didn't, feel free to send another anon and you may get two for the price of one
You knoe the drill, flats and line art under the cut
#the mandela catalog jonah#the mandela catalogue jonah#jonah marshall#the mandela catalogue fanart#the mandela catalogue fic#the mandela catalogue#tmc fanart#tmc#anon request!!!!#SO FUCKING JAZZED#dude i am so normal about this#sanguine fic#Sanguine Such As Celestial Spirits May Bleed#ghostlyghostyghostbastard#ghostlysdoodles#fanart#fanart !#fanart!#dog morif go greer
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