Ryen / He/Him
I love writing, video games, being gay and trans, and birds. Also you remember that one post about the omnifucker? Thats me.
This blog is often NSFW so please only follow if youre 18+.
Icon by: @milk-toasts
around when I first started dating my boyfriend i bought myself this novelty blanket that looks like a photorealistic tortilla because I am SUCH A SUCKER for novelty shit. when he saw it in person for the first time his eyes lit up, which should have been a warning sign for the indignities to come.
so he’s a first responder and his day shifts start obnoxiously early as far as I, a pampered corporate asshole, am concerned. almost invariably when he’s at my place there will be an alarm at an hour that is downright unconscionable that will make him wake up and roll out of bed to get ready and will simultaneously make me burrow under the pillows grumbling about how surely nobody actually NEEDS their lives saved this early in the morning, after which I will promptly attempt to go back to sleep
he is a clever man and he knows this is when i am most vulnerable to attack.
every single time we do this dance, he quietly dresses, packs up, goes about getting ready to leave, and then when i have juuuust fallen back asleep, he returns with the tortilla blanket. He finds it no matter where I have hidden it.
He then creeps silently up to my side of the bed and uses his superior speed, strength, and reflexes to wrap me up in it incredibly tightly while i am still dazed and sputtering, so that i cannot move my legs or arms and am reduced to humiliating halfhearted magikarp flops that do not deter him from at least attempting to kiss my forehead.
then he goes to my bedroom door, opens it, then pauses, turns around, looks at me, the soft human filling of the facsimile of an enormous burrito he has just constructed, and says in his best romantic lead voice “I’ll see you soon, beans.”
you cannot understand how devastating it is to my ego that i am beans.
oh also sometimes he takes a snap of me flailing in my tortilla prison and then sends it to me only after he has left my apartment building and has gotten into his car
this means in practice that i get a snap notification just when i have managed to free myself, and i open it up expecting some cute shit… and then I have to relive the indignity all over again but with the additional burden of knowing just how hilarious this all looks from his point of view
Years ago my sister told me abt how she used to play online survival games like Rust or something etc. w her friends and she’d go in VC this over-the-top ‘girly’ voice like “ummm hey I don’t play videogames much and I reeeaaallly don’t know what’s going on teehee, can anyone pleaaase come help me I’m so confused” and then when some guy showed up all of her friends would swarm and kill
ordered a “who drink arnold palmer” t shirt for the laughs and it came printed “who drink arnorl palmer” and a sports logo on the back. which possibly makes the shirt funnier
