#NEED HIM TO BE REALL
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a random thought/imagine because I NEED to run into a Miguel at a Mexican party and falling in love with him! @fairlyang 's post got me going, I was going to reblog my crazy scenario through their post, and then this turned TOO LONG (I'm delusional, so that's why this is so detailed)!!
If you're not Latina/Mexican - just hear a delusional woman out plsssss (me hoping to manifest by writing this fr fr)
Going to a Mexican party, sitting at a table with my family because soy una muchacha seria y callada (I'm a serious and quiet girl), so I'm not on the dance floor, but I see Miguel in the crowd with the other men talking, dressed with a sombrero and botas (cowboy hat and boots), wearing gold jewelry (he's Mexican he has to wear gold jewelry, sorry not sorry).
I'm trying very hard not to stare and make it obvious because my fam is there and I'm a good family girl, a proper señorita, who hasn't been with anyone nor has done anything with anyone (this is my version guys, so don't mind the personal touches here) but !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'M ALREADY IMAGINING WHAT HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE, HOW MUCH TALLER HE'D BE IF I WERE STANDING IN FRONT OF EACH OTHER!! I'm subtly -oh so subtly- admiring his large broad shoulders and BACKKK (having some serious thoughts about this part; hint: my long nails, anywayyyy), the way he stands, his thick thighs, the way he lifts a cup to his mouth, his laugh, his smile - yall, I'm planning a whole wedding, even though I know I'm not making a damn move because your girl IS SHY IRL (a moment for the shy girls ✊🏼😔), but a girl can daydream behind the centros de mesa (table centerpieces) my mom and grandma are taking home by the end of the night!!
I keep watching him, subtly, telling myself it's silly but I keep daydreaming anyway. IT'S FREE!!!!!!
He ends up spotting me from across the room while some love song is playing in the background because you know, Latinos and our love songs!! It's probably something like "Háblame de Ti" by Banda MS or some song by Grupo Frontera like "Bebe Dame" 😍 (iykyk) anyway, the music is not helping your delusional girl (me, you, us, everyone).
Imagine imagine imagine - MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AS HE BRINGS THE CUP TO HIS MOUTH WITH A LITTLE SMIRKKK-(why did I just get goosebumps?) YALL YAL YALL
Freezing up and going through all stages of grief because I was caught staring !!!!!!!!!!!! I look away, trying to play it off even though my cheeks are the color of the red flowers adorning the room!!! I'm drinking some water, trying to C H I L L because I can feel his gaze on me.
Thinking it's safe, I look again AND - HE'S STARING
Then for idk how long it's just a lot of ignoring/pretending that's not happening because once again, I'M SHYYYY (once I get to know you I open up but like, it takes a hot week) but I'm just thinking, "este hombre" (this man; also wondering what his name is and why I've never seen this man before???) because I'm literally dying pretending I'm okay and fighting the inappropriate thoughts while sitting next to my grandma because Miguel keeps staring, going along with his conversation with the men (who have noticed him staring and probably tease him about making a move, or telling him to forget it because "esa muchacha/morra no baila con nadie" (that girl doesn't dance with anyone). So he just watches from a distance, trying to gather some info and noticing little things like how I'm avoiding his gaze, the nervous smile, trying to pretend that side of the building doesn't exist-
and thennnnnnnnnnnnnnn
at some point he leaves his side of the room, steps determined. I once again *subtly* notice this and then freak out when he's coming my way but I'm like "no way, right? right?" *hearts racing abnormally*
IMAGINE HIM APPROACHING THE TABLE AND INTRODUCING HIMSELF TO YOUR PARENTS AND GRANDMA, OR WHOEVER ELSE IS THERE?? And then looking at you, giving you a gentle, soft smile WITH SOME MISCHIEF BEHIND THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES YOU'VE EVER HAD THE PRIVILIGE LAYING EYES ON AND MAKING YOU FEEL THINGS - or like a commenter said the other day in one of my posts "senti cosas de mujer" (I felt women things)!! YOU'RE FEELING THINGS THINGS !!!
AND HE ASKS YOUR PARENTS IF HE CAN ASK YOU TO DANCE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE HE REALIZES YOU'RE A FAMILY GIRL, AND THAT'S HOW HE'S GOING TO WIN YOUR FAMILY SO HE CAN HAVE YOU BECAUSE MANS HAS ALSO ALREADY PLANNED THE WEDDING RECEPTION'S MENU !!!!!!!!!!!
ok bye, thank you for listening to my unhinged scenario but in all seriousness - God - I've seen what you've done for others !!!!! Send a Miguel O'Hara lookalike my way with sombrero y botas, chest hair, and gold jewelry, and who knows how to fix the light that turned on in my vehicle, which I've been ignoring for months, and who helps with the masa for the tamales para Navidad (helps with the tamales dough for Christmas) because he has large, warm hands 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
#unhinged alondra#??#this is my dreammmmmmmm#NEED HIM TO BE REALL#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x you
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thinking about “it’s because you desire nothing bro” again. why did he say it like that…
mob after that conversation
#mp100#but for reall ritsu is so fucking silly goofy and i love him#his vibe is truly unmatched to be honest#the patient needs to say strange and frequently over-the-top things to live!!!!#asks#i saw an opportunity with this one thank you#my art
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the way that I need Jon so bad bc 1. he's a great character, 2. ive imprinted my boyfriend on to him its actually so embarrasing (my boyfriend is also angsty and has prematurely white hair and doesn't* believe in the supernatural)
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#myart#doodle#art#elemental#elemental 2023#ember lumen#wade ripple#i think my fem design is a bit lackluster but hay man!! im not getting paid for this#i am not original enough to care if my design is basic :p#people need to get on the fem wade train for REALL#u could hc him as transfem opr just afab either could work for real#his sibling is non binary so his family would 100% be supportive#someone should actually write a fic of that I WOULD READ#omg#SOMEONE DO THAT PLS#tag me if u do pls pls#also i saw a matching hello kitty pajama set and i had to draw them in it#just pretend its fire proof shje deserves fashiopn too.#BYE HOLD ON THE HAND I DREW IS SO FUCKED that would hurt . YKW. hes literally water its fine. ITS FINE.
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i need 2 get back into painting fish
#said in the ‘gary i need’ voice#or painting in general . i want 2 get into plein air#and go to like . arizona or smth and paint the landforms . soo red and orange and rocky and dusty and ❤️🫶#the round brushstrokes on tht 1 would be so much fun~_~#its such a tiresome medium though.like all the set up and cleanup and stuff#i refuse to learn abt oil precautions so i just stick to acrylic but even then it dries so fast and its like.mindgame trying to decide what#to focus on in the little time u have . and god forbid u paint on a layer too soon and u lift it off the canvas#HELLLLLLL. but the end result is always so worth it . like holding a physical piece.its 3d .its REALL#fish r so much fun to paint bc 1 u get to pay attn to their morphology but 2 they jave the best textures#im not averse to painting fur but i lovee . the interplay btwn light and fish skin. its so epic and awesome#the only other artist ik of in my family is my uncle & he METALWORKS!!! FISH !!! ITS SOOO FREAKIG COOL#i want to learn from him so bad . guh.GUAHHHHH. anyways i just think its funny that the two of us r fixated on recreating fish#crosses my arms .#okhh.. i also wnt to get into mosaics . god.GOAODDD#did i talk abt this 1 alr.. reread the b1p arc w the mosaic and fresco work and it makes me so sick why couldnt i go to art college and make#frescoes and mosaics .woe is me or whagever . no but its so tempting 2 just buy some tesserae and get 2 it ..#i saw a pigeon mesh mosaic n it like lit that fire under me . what we need js like one giant art collective#that magically provides all the supplies in the world for free and we hold hands and make art in 20 different disciplines 2000 different wys
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weirdly sexually charged stress dreams i did not need you actually. it gets very uncomfortable and confusing very fast when my family becomes suddenly involved.
#i used to get ''called back to work on a shift for my old hotel job'' dreams that were stressful and i usually was missing my shirt#last night was the first time i had a ''hey i don't work for YOU anymore why am i being pressured to do this Thing?''#about the job did for my dad#like contract work (again)#(i went from contractor to hourly to salaried and then i left and he offered contract work again through their company if i really wanted#to come back in a minimal capacity)#(which i might have taken him up on if i didn't need money to live and he paid better but living on $10.5/hr or less depending wasn't reall#doing it for me anymore in 2019-2020 and beyond actually)#(because this time i was starting from absolute zero and didn't have another job to supplement the income)#anyway... i'm somehow MORE tired and exhausted and upset being awake now than i was in my dreams#no sex no satisfaction no completed tasks and no one understands me - my favorite type of dreams#(sarcasm)
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the audacity of daddy pedro pascal.
#pedro pascal#that lil fucker reall be out there huh#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#how can anyone actually be that damn attractive and i don‘t just mean his daddy fucking looks i mean his fucking huge heart#but honestly you‘ve seen these pics right?#HOW FUCKING RUDE CAN A MAN BE!!??#i need a break from him jeez bye
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Idk I'm just ╮(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)╭ give him some time.
#also always take everything he says with a grain of salt#its not like i can just up and fly to finland to see him lol#it sucks i know#especially to hear something quite disheartening from the artist's own mouth#from his point of view i can understand fully#its a sucky siruation tbh#people want him right now#he's tired maybe this fame thing isnt working out like he's imagined and hes disillusioned#i dont think he will change his opinion that much#he needs better management tho#oh well#i see a lot of people being a bit disappointed and i cant realls blame them to be honest#no matter what anyone says#i think this is one of those situations where no one is a winner
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I think it’s much easier for Tommy and Maria to reconcile in the game than it will be in the show because in the game, Maria could probably forgive him for leaving just her and losing himself but could Maria from the show forgive him for abandoning their kid, just after Uncle Joel dies and then when he does come back, he’s changed that much that I think with a child it’s just harder to have him around
Exactly
You break a woman’s heart, that’s one thing
you break her BABY’s heart, all bets are off
#And i havent played the game but it seems like hes reall messed up emotionally after seattle#He will need to really work on himself and also do some grovelling before maria lets him back in her house#Asks
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i hate tumblr new format. alsooo whatd i miss
#listen my tumblr writing voice is disappearing since all i post are instagram CFs.#alas whats#errr i went to ecuador over the summer and holy i love cocktails#i got drunk for the first time and the next date went hungover to a diff date and then got into a relationship but i broke up with him like#two days ago#IB Y2 is effectively killing me and the last thing i needed was someoen that drained me#also i found an argentine show called rebelde way from the 2000 s#go di need to rant about it i feel so strongly like i just im so frustrated school is so much and i am bf-less (for the better) and#i turn 18 soon and i start college next sept and im gonna major in math and OH BUT i dont want to be alone i hate being alone oh oh oh#bu the show is so good but my deadlines are so heavy but the show but pablo and marizza#IB took over sm of my life like yeah i let it consume me but oh god oh oh oh#i hadnt had a legit interest or show i liked bc i know i get deranged about them#godd im also one of the only 2 girls left in the program#and i need to hit the gym bc like. grad is soon and why are boys in my school so mean#in ecuador this isnt a thing like friendships are sm closer in ecuador and dynamics are so different and oh i yearn to be with tehm i reall#do but the country is like not okay and i had a kidnapping scare but oh oh oh to feel loved by the people around you#anyways what else#sorry i disappeared fellas
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It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???
NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.
#okay so i need to give her a name. we will call her yn bc she is just so different and quirky and not like other girls#so i haven't liked yn since freshman year (am a junior) because she seemed incredibly pretentious. she has like awards n stuff for this#asian advocation group and tons of other stuff which is GOOD. but she has a tendency to brag and be very cocky about it.#AND YOU KNOW WHAT. IT WASNT JUST ME. MY FRIEND FROM SEMINAR who we will call Pie for certain reasons (her name rhymes with it) AGREED WITH#ME ABOUT YN BEING COCKY! and Pie and Yn are in the same group since they are both Asian and ppl at my school typically hang out w their rac#is that racist? like there's an asian boys group and asian girls group. but it's only asians and white people; but it's weird since a large#portion of my school is hispanic. i dunno WEIRD SIDE TANGENT BUT BASICALLY THEY ARE IN THE SAME GROUPS; RIGHT? so Pie was agreeing that Yn#can be very pretencious; and I'm then like#oh i don't really like her for the cheating stuff she did with Mac (fake name) and how she got#him to basically cheat on his girlfriend“ and Pie says ”oh well Mac started it; but Yn lead him on for over a month while he had a gf#and they kept this going until Yn decided to break things off; WHICH MEANS MAC'S NOW EX GIRLFRIEND NEVER KNEW ABOUT ANYTHING W MAC N YN!#also allegedly according to my boyfriend; Yn was doing homework as Mac was yk DOING it to Yn and she just like... LET IT HAPPEN WHILE HE HA#A GIRLFRIEND. HELLO? and when Yn ends it; he's like “omg but yn... i love you...” “no. i'll only hurt you; if you're with me it'll only hur#uh okay 25k words slowburn vibes.... ANYWAYS so she takes screenshots and sends them in a SUPER big groupchat with 20+ people (including Pi#and my boyfriend) and Pie (who was childhood friends with Mac) called her out saying how it was also kind of her fault for being with a guy#who was in a relationship; but she got super defensive about it. and this same thing happened AGAIN 2ish months later with a girl Jas and#her boyfriend Ben; where Yn was friends with both but basically was emotionally cheating with Jas; leading them to break up; and then she#GOT WITH JAS. HELLO???? WHAT??? and they r still together. none of them talk to Ben even though Yn said they were 'all cool and friends'#SUREEEE GIRL SURE. KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT. and Pie called her out on this AGAIN since Pie is friends with Ben and Jas too but Yn got#defensive AGAIN! BC SHE KNOWS ITS A SHITTY THING TO DO! and Pie doesn't really like her because of it and when Pie told me all of that I wa#in shock. because Yn was trying to play the victim in the situation with Mac when she sent the messages to the gc; and tried to do that AGA#N BUT IN THE SITUATION WITH JAS LIKE NO U ARE JUST A CRAPPY PERSON ! and appearently she is SO toxic she was nearly kicked out from a#leadership role at my school's asian pacific islander club or something! like girl WAKE UP! but that's not all; so i didn't know she was#known for going for people who had partners; yet still didn't like her; and last school year (about 4 months ago) my boyfriend got a 'reall#bad haircut' (i thought it was cute; but everyone made fun of him ) and Yn RAN around our campus trying to find him to make fun of him..#like wtf that's so weird and she will post screenshots of their convos on her story and be like 'omg he's bullying me!' when he's being dry#and did that in the gc (this time; i'm in it!) and i crashed out but my bf was apologizing and saying he told her to not post anything but#she didn't listen or something i guess. and sometimes when they are wearing similar outfits she'll post on her story that they are matching#um girl he has a wife and 12 kids. back the FUCK off. and i told him to distance himself from her or set boundries cuz i don't like that n#it makes me uncomfy; so he did which is good! but i still don't like Yn. she is a major pick-me IMO and very two-faced and covers her
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sorry that i come harder when i whimper hannibal's name, as if that's my fault
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*.˗ˏˋ Use DEILD to enter the void in secondsˎ˗.*
~featuring a lucid dreamer’s unintended success story I found on YouTube~
Incoming Topics..
*PART 1 <RECAP: What is Deild? >*
*PART 2 < The success story >*
*PART 3 < How to use DEILD for the Void >*
*PART I < What is the DEILD method? > *
If you haven’t read my original post on DEILD I have linked it down below towards the end of this one. I recommend checking it out for an in depth tutorial on the method, but I’ll give a quick explanation here as well-
To put it simply, it is a technique that is traditionally used to get fast and easy lucid dreams. Upon waking you lie still and keep your eyes closed, tricking your body into thinking that you never woke up and then within seconds the dream reforms except now you’re aware in it! You can also create a new dream or you might enter a false awakening which becomes a lucid dream. This method works SO QUICKLY it’s seriously like a LD method shortcut!
I’ve heard of lucid dreamers talking about the void before but after watching a YouTubers video about a lucid dream he had, I realized he actually used the DEILD technique to go straight to the void in SECONDS, unintentionally! Which is something I hadn’t thought about doing before-merging the lucid dream technique WITH 👏🏼 THE VOID 👏🏼 TECHNIQUES!! 👏🏼 So for those of you attempting to enter the void state from a lucid dream, this can be used as a SHORTCUT on top of a SHORTCUT! 🙌🏼 Yes ma’ammmm y’all seriously need to come try this one out because when I say SECONDS I’m talking secondsss-no more waiting 20 minutes for your left brain to turn off, no more long breath work exercises or reality checks or hours of lying still, affirming, no more battling with creating portals-the void can be EFFORTLESS and induced in under a minute.
*PART 2 < The lucid dreamer’s success story> *
There’s this lucid dreamer on YouTube called TIGER123 who posts about lucid dreaming techniques and his own lucid dream experiences- he actually has a video tutorial on DEILD as well (which is linked in my OG DEILD post)
So, I was at work looking for something to watch and saw he posted a new video about a lucid dream he had recently. Well, I can tell you wasn’t expecting him to literally open the video by talking about how he woke up from a regular dream, realized it was the perfect opportunity to perform DEILD and get lucid, and then. AS HE’S PERFORMING DEILD. He enters the void! Just like that. While he was in the void he visualized the dream scene he wanted to be in and he said he was there within 10 seconds. Aka he instantly manifested entering the exact lucid dream he wanted to be in, from the void state.
This is someone who doesn’t believe in shifting or astral projection, wasn’t trying to enter the void, thinks the void is just an unformed lucid dream space that can be used to form a new lucid dream, doesn’t know you can manifest from that state and yet STILL got in and STILL manifested. Since he viewed the void as a place he can form a new lucid dream thats what he did. He still manifested instantly, he just MANIFESTED going from the VS to being in a lucid dream. This should just go to show you guys how REAL the void state is, because someone who doesn’t even know about it and wasn’t trying to get in STILL did it. (SO CAN YOU btw)
The void isn’t a concept created on tumblr. Lucid dreamers have experienced it for years, meditators experience it, yogis, followers of Neville Goddard and multiple religious practices do too; It’s just called by different names and defined differently, but all the experiences describe the same thing. So if tumblr success stories aren’t trustworthy enough to you, or motivating enough-expand your research and find hundreds of stories similar to this one-lucid dreamers thinking it’s just an unformed dream and yogis thinking it’s just a really relaxing deep meditative state etc…
*PART 3< How To Use DEILD to enter the VS> *
I linked the video at the bottom, he doesn’t really talk about the void much or deild because the video is about the actual contents of the dream he had, but the part he does talk about it is right at the beginning, the first 30 seconds or so, if you’re curious in checking it out but this is pretty much what he said about it, written out-
“First I was in a space dream and then I woke up and kind of realized I had just woken up from a dream and was able to stay still and kind of reenter into it and fall back asleep and I ended up in the void. You know that like complete blackness where it’s really easy to reform the dream and since I was there I figured I would just try to go to the beach because when I’m in this void state I can really go anywhere I want. I just reformed the beach and I ended up on the exact beach I was imagining in like 10 seconds.”
So boom. Thats’s it thats ALL. That simple. So here’s the exact steps to do if you want to enter the void through DEILD too and be the next success story:
Before bed: affirm “I will remember to stay still upon awakening. I will effortlessly enter the void using DEILD” or some variation of this (optional)
Visualize yourself waking up, staying still, and entering the void state (optional)
Go to sleep, with the calm certainty that this will work.
Wake up. Keep your eyes closed and lie still
You can keep a blank mind and wait, trusting that your subconscious will induce the void automatically, since you already set the intention the night before
5a. Or right after waking, with your eyes closed you can begin affirming that you are pure consciousnes and imagine yourself already in the void, or imagine yourself sinking gently down into the void state until you are truly there. This method is so effective you should be in the state within a minute or less.
And remember, the void state can’t be forced, just like sleep can’t be forced. All you can do is create the right conditions for it to occur naturally. It’s okay if you don’t get it right away. Focus on trust, not control. Avoid over analyzing whether it’s working while you’re performing the technique, just allow it to flow and happen. You saw he just literally lied still waiting for the dream to form and then he was in. It’s that effortless. Give it a go and report back in the comments 🫶🏼 Happy enteringgg
youtube
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Sick Days
Summary: The Creepypasta guys are feeling a little under the weather. You, their lovely partner, spend the day taking care of them (whether they like it or not).
Characters: {Separate} Jeff the Killer x Reader, Ticci Toby x Reader, Masky x Reader
TW: Very domestic and fluffy, slight bickering
Words: 6.7k
A/N: Sorry for the delay! More Christmas-themed works coming out shortly!
Seven days of pure snowfall and ice.
It had snowed a lot—a thick blanket of white across the forest deep enough to get your boots stuck in. Winter always seemed to roll around the Slenderwoods a little later in the year, but when it did, it was brutal. And, with so much pristine white covering the ground, the mansion was on full display in contrast to the grayed-out trees.
Slenderman gave his orders. This meant longer missions, longer days in the frigid temperatures, and even longer nights recovering. You would think natural-born killers would have some inkling of instinct to keep themselves alive, but when they all returned practically half-dead…
Thick jackets and worn shoes piled by the door, somehow still defrosting and leaving obnoxious puddles of water wherever you stepped. Dusty counters were littered with piles of nasty food and dishes, laundry untouched (that wasn’t unusual anyway), and a serious lack of arguing or hysterical fighting between the walls (that was unusual). It seems the weather hadn’t only brought down health, but moods too.
So, when things turn bad in the mansion, where do they end up?
Your front door.
Jeff the Killer ▸
Jeff knocked nonstop until you opened your door, a confused look as to what in the world the killer could need. It wasn’t unusual for Jeff to stop by unannounced; he had made himself at home in your house a long time ago, but it was unusual for him to show up in the middle of the afternoon (broad daylight and all).
“Jeffrey? Are you alright?” Glancing behind him, you could see where his boots made imprints on the fresh snow covering your sidewalk, dusty snowflakes melting in his dark hair.
But, finally glancing up to meet his gaze, you could see it.
He looked terrible. More so than usual. Skin raw-red from the cold winds whipping at him, hair tangled, and head pounding in time with his too-loud heartbeat. You knew about the missions, and you knew what being in the cold for too long could do, you just didn’t know someone like Jeff could even get sick.
Stepping aside, Jeff trailed into your home, shoulders hunched so low you thought he was trying to fall over. All he gave you were hoarse grunts and shaky nods as you helped him strip his heavy clothes, shaking the snow from the sleeves onto the doormat outside. By the time you turned around, Jeff was already halfway down the hallway towards your bedroom.
The killer was so exhausted he didn’t even get his muddy boots off before he was face down into the pillows and oblivious to the world.
Given the grueling retreat he had just returned from, this would have been a reasonable response. But, as his partner, you knew better than most: Jeff never sleeps, especially when he has a fresh mission to brag about. It only took his ragged coughing and blatant pitiful state to figure out you were going to have to help him.
The can of chicken noodle soup you poured into a bowl, then to the microwave, came out steaming hot. You blew on the contents; the smell was nice as you reached for a spoon, and you made a mental note that you would also need to clean his dirty clothes still caked in mud and (hopefully not his) blood. A small towel under the bowl, and you were making your way down the hall.
Jeff hadn’t even bothered to shut the door; his limp body spread across your mattress like a corpse. He covered his head with a pillow, gripping the fabric and muffling the sputtering snores laced with evident sickness. You had only left him alone to make the soup for a couple of minutes, but that seemed to be enough to knock him out.
Jeff never slept, only when his body really needed it. But right now, his body also really, really needed something in its stomach besides mucus. You set the bowl on your nightstand before slowly kneeling on the bed. What do they say about waking a beast? You couldn’t remember.
You cringed, teeth gritted as you gently placed your flat hand onto his back. His skin was burning, heat practically radiating from him as you easily rubbed up and down his spine. He didn’t even budge, the only sign of life being the gentle rising and falling of his back as he snored into the fabric of his pillows. You ran your hand higher, fingers rubbing across his shoulders and dipping to the arch of his shoulder blades until you felt his arms slowly shift.
His breathing faltered, consciousness rolling back into him as you shifted, letting one leg dangle off the bed as you sat beside him.
“Mhhmn…” He groaned, stiffly turning his face towards you and glaring through bloodshot eyes. You nearly choked out a laugh, scanning his flushed face and horrible eye bags, appearing even more dead than he normally did. It took the killer a minute to register what was happening, his messy bangs sticking to his forehead and matting wildly; it was evident he could’ve slept for the rest of the day and then some.
But it was only 3 pm, and the sun shining through his curtains was made even worse by the reflection of the snow. He needed to eat; there was no telling how much he had worn himself down this past week. Jeff was never very good at self-preservation, especially when you had become a net to fall back on.
“Hey man… You wanna try and eat somethin’?” You tried to keep your voice low, the killer rolling onto his back and rubbing his hands over his face. He grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers and slowly blinking at the ceiling.
He nodded.
Reaching for the still-steaming bowl, you cupped the contents in your hands, shifting further onto the bed. Jeff shifted upwards, slowly but surely. It was odd. You had witnessed this man jump fencelines and tackle men double his size, but give him a fever and a headache that can’t be numbed out with alcohol, and suddenly he’s defenseless. You could’ve laughed, taunted him like he often did when you weren’t feeling hot, say something to get his gears going…
But he just looked so… pitiful.
One hand cupped under the bowl, you reached the other out, delivering soft touches with the back of your hand on his forehead. Jeff watched through tired eyes, blinking slowly when your fingers brushed his sweat-damp bangs out of his face, leaning closer to your every touch.
Always loud-mouthed and quick to anger, but right now, he was just calm. His body refused to move as quickly as he wanted it to, and his head was far too foggy with nausea to even consider pushing your helpful hand away. So, he just accepted it. Reluctantly, in his mind, but accepted it nonetheless.
“You don’t look so hot. What happened out there?” You paced the words slowly, taking the spoon in your hand and collecting a bit of the soup before bringing it to his pale lips. Jeff closed his eyes when he took the spoonful in his mouth, drinking the warm broth before letting you bring it back to the bowl for another.
“Forgot to bring extra clothes… Hada’ reuse the same wet shit every day…” His voice was so hoarse, too. He cleared his throat, letting you spoon him another drink of the soup before leaning his head back on the headboard. He sounded like he had been sucking down nothing but cold air, throat raw and scratchy with the sinus infection he was harboring.
A warm shower? Or maybe bringing him to sit in front of the fireplace you had crackling in the living room? You weren’t sure what he needed, but you knew he needed to sweat out this fever before it became a real problem. He reached for the bowl, cupping the towel underneath to set it in his lap before continuing to fish spoonfuls. The warmth of the soup probably did wonders for his sore throat.
You went to stand, pressing off of the bed before a rough hand wrapped around your wrist. Glancing down, Jeff was tugging you back towards him, knotted brows giving a silent question as to why you were leaving him. You smiled, kneeling back on the mattress to place a quick kiss on his way-too-warm forehead. “I’m starting you a bath, alright? Finish your soup.”
Another quick kiss and he was letting your wrist go, satisfied with your answer. The silence was awkward, but vulnerable and quiet. Jeff had no choice but to let you care for him; something about that made your heart so full.
Roaming to the bathroom, you pushed the curtain to the tub back and flipped the faucet all the way hot. Water filled slowly as you rummaged through the cabinet behind your sink mirror, reading various drugstore medicines and cough syrups before shaking a handful of sinus and head cold pills into your hand.
You heard the gentle patter of bare feet stepping onto the tile of the bathroom just in time to turn off the running water, the tub steaming with scalding water. Arms wrapped around your middle gently as you shut the cabinet, Jeff’s nose burying into the crook of your neck as he fell limp against your back.
“Sorry…” He mumbled, his face against your skin as he breathed deep, taking in your smell. You smiled, reaching back to brush his hair back before playing yet another kiss on his warm forehead. “Hush. You need to get better, and that mansion is no place to relax. Don’t worry about it.” Despite reassuring him, Jeff still held a defeated look.
Dropping the medicine onto your sink counter, you turned to help him take off his shirt, his hands doing their best to hold onto your arms the entire time. Clingy.
“I got it.” He huffed, tossing his shirt to the ground.
“I know you do.” You smiled up at him. You undid his belt anyway, undressing him the rest of the way with little protest. There was no flirtatious comment, no sly touches, just a weak, sick boy who wasn’t used to being this vulnerable. It was sweet.
Jeff stepped into the bath, and you left him to get a cup of water. He drank the pills down, skin blotching red with the heat of the water, but at least he looked more relaxed. He was so lengthy, he had to bend his knees to fit comfortably, which you laughed at.
You knelt beside the tub, using that same cup to collect water and rinse his hair. You ran your fingers through the messy strands, his quiet groans making you smile as you poured a small dab of shampoo onto the palm of your hand. Tired eyes watched you carefully when you began to scrub his head, lathering the shampoo between the strands and massaging his scalp. He was falling apart underneath you, soapy bubbles drifting into the water while you washed him off.
His hands cupped your own, kissing your wrists. He was being so gentle, it almost gave you whiplash. There was no off comment about you catering to him, or being a jerk just for the hell of it; he was being oddly sweet. Maybe his being sick wasn’t so bad.
Until you zoned back into his coughing fit, strained coughs that looked like they physically hurt. You rinsed his hair, careful not to get the soapy water into the gashes on his face as he settled down.
You wiped the water from his face, his clammy skin wet under your hands as you went to stand. Jeff leaned back, letting his head rest against the wall of the tub while you collected his clothes, letting him know you’d be right back.
You needed to do laundry anyway, so grabbing the rest of the killer’s dirty clothing and tossing them into your load was easy enough. They reeked of dirt and outside, splotches of dried blood staining the sleeves of his hoodie. You didn’t want to know about the mission; you didn’t want to know what in the hell caused these stains, but you were sure he’d tell you sometime anyway.
Starting the machine, you shuffled back to your room, rummaging through your drawers for something that the killer could wear. You ended up on a t-shirt that was baggy on you but would fit him perfectly, a pair of boxers he left the last time he was here and sweatpants that would be good enough until his clothes were dry.
You stepped back into the bathroom, clothes in hand, and Jeff turned to look up at you. He had already cleaned himself off, water slowly draining from the tub as you helped him climb out. “Feel better?”
He nodded, reaching for the towels you had hanging off the edge of the tub and drying himself off. You set the clothes down, hands reaching to dry off his hair as he dressed himself.
You knew it had to feel so much better to be in clean clothes, let alone something that wasn’t jeans and a hoodie riddled with filth. Jeff seemed content enough, but more than anything, he looked tired. Exhausted.
“Alright, time for bed.” The sun was just starting to set outside your window, thick orange light flooding through the curtains as Jeff followed you back into the bedroom. You wouldn’t be going to sleep for some time, but you were sure the killer would be out in minutes.
Pulling back the sheets of your bed, Jeff climbed in, body nearly giving out as soon as his weak body got under the warm covers. “I’ll let you rest, tell me if you need anythin-”
Jeff didn’t give you the chance, barely getting a foot away from the bed before he was dragging you in too. You smiled, his arms wrapping around your waist and throwing the covers over the two of you. “Aw man, you’re gonna get me sick-”
You couldn’t help but smile as Jeff delivered sickly sweet kisses across your cheeks, lying you both down as his arms caged you in, your head falling onto his shoulder. “Then I guess we’ll just have to be sick together then, baby.” You knew a sly smile would break out of him sooner or later.
You both relaxed into each other, wrapping the covers tight as the sun set slowly against the pretty snow. The fireplace still crackled in your living room, the whole house warm compared to the brutal cold Jeff had been forced into days before.
Running your hands through his now-clean hair, Jeff groaned, practically purring when his eyes began to close, tight grip around your back faltering slightly as you realized the sinus meds were finally kicking in, that dazed look behind his expression. As if he wasn’t tired enough, this would have him knocked for the whole next day.
It didn’t matter to you, you’d be there tomorrow to cater to him too, taking care of the killer who rarely ever let himself go like this.
Planting one last kiss on his jaw, you felt his chest slowly rise and fall, gentle snores dragging out underneath you. Leaning back, you grabbed the remote to your TV off the nightstand, turning some show you needed to catch up on with low volume. You realized you needed to relax too, the winter season having you run a mile a minute, so this would be a good excuse to worry about something other than your crazy life.
With one final tug on the back of your shirt, you let your own eyes close, the sun finally set as a pretty blanket of dark sky finally shown through the window.
“G’night [Y/N]…”
-
Jeff was there by your side when you became sick the week after, a terrible fever that wouldn't break no matter how many baths or rags he placed on your forehead.
He felt bad, sure, but he felt even better that he got to make fun of your terribly red face and nasty cough that he didn’t have to deal with anymore.
Even sick, you somehow managed to win every argument or put the killer back in his place. You made him repay his stupidness with healthy fast-food runs and kisses. He quickly learned to keep his mouth shut.
In sickness and in health, you guess.
Ticci Toby ▸
Technically, Toby couldn’t feel the pain of being sick.
He never got the sting of a sore throat, or the ache behind your ears when you sneezed too much, or even the pounding head and body aches that kept people from getting up. No, he bragged about never being defeated by strep throat or the flu.
But what he did feel was the pressure, and the fatigue, and the awful way your stomach just refused to hold down any solids.
So, when it got so bad he couldn’t shove it aside anymore to complete another mission, he found himself knocking on your door.
And he was not happy about it.
“Toby, you have got to lie down.” You huffed, his limp arms in your hands as you tried and failed to drag him towards your bedroom. He was acting as if he couldn’t walk, feet glued to their respective spots in your kitchen. The brunette always played a little childish, but right now he was just being plain juvenile.
“Nah. I just swung by to gra- grab some food, there’s nothing good at th- the mansion.” Even as you held him, the boy still browsed your cabinets and pantry for snacks. You would have been more than happy to offer, but Toby had already eaten a bowl of your chili leftovers, two bags of chips, and was going for pastries next. It was like being sick turned him into a human vacuum.
“I know, but you’re freezing, hun. Your face is so red it looks like you’re going to explode. You need to get under some covers.” Toby could blame that on lying face-down in the snow for an hour, completely oblivious to the pin-pricking sharpness of the cold on his cheeks, or the frostbite that was forming at the edge of his nose. He never felt a thing, completely lost in the weightless blanket of powder underneath him. He would’ve stayed there another hour or two if Tim hadn’t jerked him up and yelled at him for being an idiot.
But now he was here, sick as a dog and getting harassed by his partner who was just trying to help. Tim was sick at the mansion, too. What luck.
“I’m fine. It’s just a co-cold or something. Quit baby- babying me.” Toby couldn’t tell if it was his tics or the uncontrollable shakiness in his hands, but he dropped a pack of crackers he’d fished out of your pantry. He groaned in frustration, crouching down to grab them, but you snatched the package up first.
“You’re not fine, Toby. You’re pale as a ghost, your voice is raspier than usual, and you can’t even hold onto a pack of crackers. Just let me help you.” You set the crackers on the counter and put your hands on your hips, glaring down at him. He glared right back, his dark eyes narrowed and defiant.
“Don’t ne- need help,” he muttered, though the stubborn edge in his voice faltered as another violent shiver racked his body. He clutched his arms around himself, but you could see how badly his fingers trembled. The eye-roll you delivered him could kill.
“Yes, you do. Come on, Toby. Just this once, let me take care of you.” Your tone softened, and you crouched down so you were at eye level with him. “You’re not going to get better if you keep ignoring yourself like this.”
He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours. For all his bravado, Toby wasn’t immune to the weight of your concern. You perceived the world differently than he did, concerned with the trivial things of sickness or relaxation, while the brunette hardly cared if his skin was rotting off (it was). Finally, with a heavy sigh, he muttered, “Fine. But only for a little while.”
“Thank you.” You stood and held out your hand to him. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
Toby reluctantly took your hand, and you helped him to his feet. He leaned on you more than he probably realized, his steps unsteady as you guided him to your bedroom. Once there, you pulled back the blankets and helped him sit down on the edge of the bed. In the light of snow through your window, you really got a good look at just how pale he was, lips a subtle shade of purple that would’ve had any normal boy in a hospital.
You helped him shed his ragged jacket, kicking off his boots until he was in the barest clothes he had stumbled into your house with.
“Alright, lie down,” you instructed, gently pushing on his shoulder. He grumbled something under his breath but complied, sinking into the mattress with a groan. You pulled the blankets up over him, tucking them around his shoulders.
“This is stu- stupid,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. He was facedown, something so childish, like a kid upset his mom was making him go to school.
“It’s not stupid. It’s called taking care of yourself,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Now, stay put. I’m going to get you some water and medicine.”
He didn’t respond, his eyes were already closed. You smiled softly, relief washing over you as you left the room. Finally, he was letting you help. Now all you had to do was nurse him back to health—and maybe convince him that it was okay to lean on someone else every once in a while.
-
The next few days were a blur of soup, medicine, and relentless efforts to keep Toby in bed. He protested at every turn, grumbling about how he didn’t need to be babied, but his body betrayed him. The fever left him weak and sluggish, his usual energy reduced to mere fragments of what it once was. After having to literally calm him down with a healthy dose of cough medicine, he finally stopped berating you.
“This is the worst,” Toby groaned, his voice hoarse as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets you’d tucked around him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, and his cheeks were flushed from the lingering fever. What started as cold chills and sickly paleness had sprung into a hot mess of trying to break the fever the brunette wasn’t aware he had. Once his body actually laid down, got some medicine, and got under some warmth, it finally started trying to heal itself. The only good thing about this was his body was so busy trying not to combust that his tics were on the back burner. His muscles were so weak, they really didn’t hold the energy.
“You’re getting better,” you reassured him, sitting on the edge of the bed with a bowl of soup in your hands. “Here, eat this. You need to keep your strength up.”
He eyed the bowl with disdain but reluctantly took it from you. “You’re en- enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Enjoying what?” you asked, feigning innocence.
“Bossing me around.” He smirked weakly, but it lacked his usual snarky bite.
“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin. “But only because it’s for your own good.”
Toby rolled his eyes but started eating the soup anyway. You watched him carefully, noting the way his hands shook less than they had the day before. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
By the third day, the fever broke. Toby woke up looking more like himself, his energy slowly returning. He still tried to downplay how sick he’d been, but you caught the gratitude in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking.
“Thanks,” he mumbled one evening, leaning against the doorway as you cleaned up the kitchen. He was wearing one of your hoodies, the sleeves too short for his arms, but all of his dirt-covered clothes were in the middle of a wash.
“For what?” you asked, turning to face him.
“For... y’know. Put- Putting up with me. Helping m- me.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze fixed on the floor. Even with sickness deteriorating, that pink still lingered in his pale cheeks. “I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”
“You don’t have to be,” you said softly, walking over to him. “That’s what I’m here for. Next time, don’t wait until you’re half-dead to ask for help, okay? One day you’re going to kill yourself just because you’re stubborn.”
He huffed a laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Impossible.”
“Toby.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll t- try.”
“Good.” You smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek, running your fingers across the scars that littered the skin. He cupped your hand, tired eyes roaming your features as he leaned in, pressing a firm kiss on your forehead. It was only when you reached up to ruffle his hair that he swatted your hand away, but your smile didn’t falter.
-
As the days went on, Toby fully recovered, though he still feined needing to stick around your house just to be sure. Your pantry was nearly run through, and every snack you had planned to eat mysteriously disappeared despite your boyfriend’s testimonials. But you didn’t mind. Seeing him back to his usual self was all the thanks you needed. He would be buying you more, though.
But knowing Toby, you weren’t holding your breath.
Tim Wright▸
The snow was relentless, blanketing the world outside in a thick, quiet stillness.
Tim was a shadow against the swirling white, his broad shoulders hunched as he trudged up the path to your door. His steps were uneven, his breath visible in harsh puffs against the icy air, and it was clear he wasn’t in good shape. You barely managed to open the door before he stumbled inside, shaking the snow off his coat and muttering a half-hearted apology.
“Tim?” you gasped, reaching out to steady him. He was freezing to the touch, his skin pale and his lips tinged with blue. “You’re ice-cold. What are you doing out in this weather? You should’ve called me.”
“Didn’t want to bother you,” he grumbled, his voice rough and strained. He tried to wave you off, but his hands trembled as he shuffled his heavy jacket off. “I’m fine. Just need to get out of all that.” The Operator had shoved him and Brian too far, Masky and Hoodie nearly ready to saw off some heads if they had to spend one more night in the frigid snow. He knew he shouldn’t bother you, shouldn’t cross that line of his affairs and your relationship, but he knew he wouldn’t make it back to the mansion tonight.
“You are not fine,” you said firmly, taking his arm and guiding him toward the couch. “At least come inside and warm up.” You were still in your pajamas, on your way to bed when you heard the haphazard knocks on your door.
Tim hesitated, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, but the weight of his exhaustion won out. He let you lead him, collapsing onto the cushions with a groan. The sight of him like this—so worn down and vulnerable—made your heart ache. Tim was always the strong one, the steady rock everyone leaned on, but now he looked utterly defeated.
You grabbed a blanket from the nearby chair and draped it over him, fussing despite his weak protests. “Stay put. I’ll get you something hot to drink.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, but his voice was softer this time, less convincing. He leaned back against the couch, his head tipping against the cushion as he closed his eyes. You hurried to the kitchen, boiling water for tea and pulling together a simple plate of muffins that took less than a minute to heat up in the microwave. You would make him a proper meal later, right now he just needed to get warm. When you returned, he hadn’t moved, his breathing shallow but steady. You set the tea down on the table in front of him and nudged his shoulder gently.
“Drink this,” you said. “It’ll help.”
Tim opened his eyes, glancing at the cup before taking it with a quiet disgust. He sipped the tea slowly, his large hands dwarfing the mug, and you sat beside him, watching him closely. He much preferred the bitter taste of coffee, but something warm in his stomach was better than nothing. After a few moments of silence, he sighed, his shoulders slumping further under the weight of the blanket.
“I’m sorry, love,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the steam rising from the tea. “I won’t stay long. You need to get back to bed.”
“I’m alright,” you said softly, “I’ll kill you before that storm does if you make it out that door again.”
He didn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to find the words. Finally, he set the mug down and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m alright. I’ll rest for a while, then get out of your hair. I need to get back before they send someone after me.”
“That’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on his back. “You’ve got at least the rest of the night before someone comes looking. Nobody is trudging through this storm just to get you, hun. You need to relax. You deserve to be cared for, too.”
Tim let out a shaky breath, his hand scrubbing over his face. He knew there was no fighting it anyway, you held some power over him even he couldn’t figure out. Your sweet words and touches were enough to stop him from war, he thought. “I- Okay, just until morning.”
“Good,” you said, your voice gentle. “Now rest, you need it.”
Tim closed his eyes, the tension in his body slowly easing as he let himself relax. It hurt your heart to see him so defeated, but if it took sickness to finally get him to relax, then so be it. You sat beside him, keeping watch as the snow continued to fall outside, a quiet reminder that even as big and strong as Tim was, he was still just as vulnerable to the cold as anyone else.
-
As the hours passed, Tim drifted off into a hazy state of staring at the fireplace, his breathing rough and uneven. The man didn’t sleep—he never did—but right now you really wish he would. You stayed by his side though, curled up next to him and monitoring his every cold chill.
You couldn’t help but feel a deep ache for him, seeing him like this—so worn down and fragile, yet still trying to be the strong, unbreakable as he always was. He let out a quiet groan as he shifted on the couch, his breath shallow, and for a moment, he barely seemed aware of his own discomfort. You were glad you had lit your fireplace hours before he arrived, the bright glow and gentle cracking of the logs under the flames, the heat radiating well enough to warm the whole house.
You gently touched his arm, trying to stir him from his restless half-awake daze. “Tim, you need medicine,” you said softly, your voice gentle yet firm. "You're burning up, and I need to make sure you don’t have a fever.”
Tim’s dark eyes blinked with confusion, and for a moment, he looked disoriented (meaning he was so far in the pits of his mind that there was no telling how disassociated he had become just from sitting here). The firelight danced on his tired face, casting soft shadows over the sharp lines of his features. “I’m fine,” he muttered hoarsely, but the words were weak, lacking the usual conviction. He barely had the strength to lift his head as he tried to wave you off. “I don’t need any medicine. Just a little rest.”
You frowned, your hand resting lightly on his forehead, the heat radiating from his skin like a warning. He was dangerously close to a fever, and no matter how much he fought it, he needed help. He just couldn’t see it. “I’m not asking,” you said softly, brushing back the damp strands of his hair. “A little rest won’t hold out.”
You wondered how Masky was taking the whole ordeal. You decided if his host was sick and weak, the alter probably wouldn’t want to front in such an unprefferable state.
Tim didn’t argue this time, his eyes flickering with mental strain. He let out a small sigh as you stood and walked into your bathroom, the quiet sound of your movements a comfort to him in the midst of his foggy, feverish haze. You pulled out the small bottle of medicine from the cabinet, one you always kept stocked for moments like these—when he pushed himself too far, too hard, until his body couldn’t keep up with the strain. This wasn’t the first time he had stumbled into your home due to his ailments, and you were very sure it wouldn’t be the last.
You returned to the couch with the bottle and a glass of water, gently helping Tim sit up, his body unsteady as you supported him. His gaze met yours, conflicted, but he didn’t argue. You could see how much he wanted to be strong, to be the one taking care of everything, but right now, he needed someone to take care of him. And you were more than willing to be that person.
“Drink this,” you urged softly, holding the glass to his lips. “It’ll help bring your fever down. You’re not going anywhere until it does.”
He hesitated, eyes narrowing in that familiar stubborn way, but the trembling in his hands gave him away. With a heavy sigh, he took the glass from you and swallowed the medicine in a few quick gulps. He winced, but when he set the glass down, his gaze softened, a brief flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You smiled, brushing a gentle hand over his shoulder, offering the smallest of comforts as he settled back against the couch.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you replied quietly. “Just rest. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Tim’s lips parted as if he wanted to say more, but his exhaustion overtook him, his body sinking back into the softness of the cushions, his glazing over once more against the firelight. You didn’t need him to say anything. You could feel the weight of his gratitude, the trust he placed in you without saying a word.
You moved to the kitchen again. His body was still weak, but it needed fuel to help fight off the cold and the fever. You knew he wouldn’t ask for a meal, never would. But you also knew he needed it. You’d learned long ago that showing care was sometimes the quietest, most effective way to love him—through the meals you made, the medicine you administered, the silent acts of kindness that spoke louder than words ever could.
But, a bowl of soup would have to do for right now.
The smell of broth began to fill the house, a gentle, soothing scent that would help settle Tim’s stomach once he slowly phased back to reality. You checked on him every few minutes, ensuring he stayed warm, covering him with an extra blanket when you noticed him shiver. His breath was a little steadier now, the worst of the fever easing off, and the signs of his discomfort had lessened just enough for him to be able to relax.
You made sure to brew a pot of fresh coffee, too. That breakfast brew he seemed to enjoy so much, the smell wafting through the house and silently altering the man.
Finally, when the soup was ready, you returned to him, holding the bowl and mug in your hands and a small spoon at the ready. He looked up at you, his eyes soft, tired but grateful. You helped him sit up once more, this time offering him the warm, comforting food he needed to heal.
“You’ve got to eat something,” you said gently, pressing the spoon into his hand. “You need your strength.”
Tim took the spoon and scooped a small portion of the soup, eating slowly, savoring the warmth it brought to his cold body. Each spoonful was another step toward recovery, and with each one, he seemed to relax just a little bit more, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let you care for him. He took gentle sips of the coffee, the taste seeming to steady him better than the tea had earlier, the tension lines in his face finally evening out.
When the bowl was empty, you set it aside and brushed your fingers through his hair again, a tender gesture. “Better?”
He gave a small nod, his eyes now fully closed, his body finally beginning to give in to the warmth and the comfort you’d provided. He didn’t speak, but his hand found yours, gripping it loosely, a silent thanks for everything you had done.
“Need anything else?” You brushed his cheek, the stinging warmth still hot on his skin, but evidently cooler than it had been. He scanned your face for a moment, dark eyes roaming over features he had studied a thousand times, but finally had an answer.
“I’ve got a cig pack in my jacket…” The way his eyebrows twinged upwards gave you all the hint you needed, a small chuckle rising from his chest. You slid over to the door where he had discarded his jacket, rummaging through compartment pockets that held tool knives or bullet casings, but finally landing on the half-empty carton of cigarettes, his lighter tucked neatly inside. You picked out one, lighter in hand as you sat back on the couch.
Tim went to reach for the thing before you shook your head, holding the orange end to his lips with a small smile. He took the cig, your hand following and cupping over the end as you flicked his lighter to a spark, lighting the end. It smoldered, smoke slowly rising from the stick and into the air of your house. You would worry about the smell later.
A deep breath in and you could phsyically see the tension in his shoulders loosen.
This went on for the rest of the night, the slow rotation between cigarettes and refilled cups of coffee as you stayed by his side, arms latched around his own as your head rested on his shoulder.
He slowly shed the blankets, too, the sunlight break finally hitting over the horizon and filtering into your living room. By the time his fever was gone (broken in one night out of pure stubbornness), you were quietly snoring beside him, body curled up under his arm.
He took the time to carry you to your bedroom, slotting you under the covers with numerous gentle kisses across your cheeks. He cleaned the living room and kitchen, washing the bowl and mugs he had dirtied and sorting them away, making sure to tidy everything as the early hours of the morning rolled around.
He was there to make you food when you finally woke up, returning every favor you had offered the night before. You found yourself at his side on the couch again, watching the snow in the daylight.
You stayed by his side, your presence a quiet promise that you would always be there to take care of him, just as he had always done for you.
In the warmth of your home, surrounded by the gentle sounds of his steady breathing and the comforting scent of the meal he had made, everything felt like it was exactly where it needed to be. You didn’t need words to say it—your love for each other was already in everything you did.
Thanks for reading!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated!
#creepypasta#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta headcanon#headcannons#headcanon#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta fluff#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x reader#marble hornets x reader#marble hornets headcanons#marble hornets headcanon#marble hornets fandom#marble hornets fluff#jeff the killer#ticci toby#eyeless jack#masky#hoodie#brian thomas#tim wright#slenderverse#slender proxy#creepypasta jeff the killer#creepypasta eyeless jack#creepypasta ticci toby#creepypasta hoodie#creepypasta masky#slender mansion
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Secret Santa on base (but the entire 141 is desperate to pull you) — plus-size!fem!reader x task force 141
CW: christmas (?), the boys being a little bit creepy but they're just in love leave them be, allusions to sexual activity
So this somehow ended up from Laswell's pov for the most part lol but it switches to reader for the end! Also happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! <3
When Laswell had brought up the idea of doing a secret santa on base — well, it had been her wife who said they needed some more holiday cheer, and who was she to deny that? — she had not expected it to become something akin to a battlefield. Maybe she should have known better, the soldiers surrounding her were competitive by nature. Winning was always the main goal.
But this time, there was no enemy to defeat, no intel to gain, no hostage to save. No, this time, you were the objective. Laswell was not stupid, in fact, it was her job to be observant, to figure out that which others could not. And to her, Task Force 141 was an open fucking book.
It was in the way Price would leave his hand on your shoulder after offering you an encouraging pat, and how that hand would move lower down your arm or back while he talked to you. It was in the way Ghost would always prepare an extra cup of tea to bring to early morning briefings, trying to subtly push it your way while you were rubbing at your eyes. It was in the way Gaz would lean over you when you asked him to come look at something on your laptop, arms on either side of you and practically caging you in. It was in the way Soap would always find a way to touch you, without fail, calling you 'bonnie' or 'love' in that obnoxious Scottish accent as he threw an arm over your shoulders. It was especially in the way the other three would scowl at whoever had your attention for the moment. It was clear as fucking day — they all wanted you.
Laswell knew this and, in hindsight, should have taken that into account when organizing the gift exchange. This realization came when Price knocked on her door just after the announcement had made the rounds. He had inquired if she was going to be the one to select the secret santa's, and if he could maybe take a look with her — just to make sure they weren't pairing up people that disliked eachother and causing issues, he explained. When she told him no, some random online generator would do just fine, Kate got her confirmation that he was lying about his motives — she'd never seen the captain look that disappointed.
After the secret santa's had been given out, she realized that maybe it was time to do some damage control. She had walked into the rec room to find Gaz grilling everyone in there on who they pulled, seeming more agitated each time they did not answer with what he wanted to hear. A few hours later, he had apparently found the one he was looking for, as Laswell overheard someone talking about how Sergeant Mactavish had offered the person in question nearly 100 bucks to switch. Then the report came in about Lieutenant Riley threatening that very same person, and Laswell had had enough.
REMINDER: SECRET SANTAS ARE FINAL AND CANNOT BE EXCHANGED.
She pretended not to hear the huffing from Price as he read the email she had sent around.
Kate had hoped the situation had been subdued with that, yet still couldn't shake the weird feeling in her underbelly when the base christmas party came around. Everything seemed fine, at first; there stood a sadly decorated plastic tree in the corner, lights were strung up around the room and the secret santa table was overflowing with badly wrapped gifts. Everything would be fine, right?
—
Wrong.
You had been excited about the gift exchange. It was a fun way to interact with some of your coworkers that you hadn't done so with yet, and you had always liked giving out presents. You tried not to beam too bright when Kate unwrapped the gift you had got her, and got up excitedly when your name was called. It was nothing special, really; a cute mug with a bar of chocolate inside, courtesy of some random private you had never really had the chance to talk to. You were grateful nonetheless.
But then your name was called again. And again. And again. The flush of embarrassment grew with each one. By the end of the night, you had five gifts in total, somehow. The second gift was a bottle of perfume, and you had to stifle a gasp as you saw the brand — it had to have been close to three figures in price. You tentatively spray some on your wrist, and- Hadn't you smelled something similar on Gaz when he greeted you earlier?
The third gift was a basket filled with goodies; all your favourite sweets and snacks, a pair of fuzzy socks, a book you had had on your wishlist for a while, and, wait, was that..? You're so preoccupied with using the socks to hide the box of XXL condoms that you don't notice how Ghost's fingers move to adjust himself in his pants.
You start to feel really flustered when your fourth gift is handed to you, trying not to flounder under all the stares you're getting. The box looks expensive, and reveals a gorgeous pearl necklace when you open it — God, that must've been at least triple the given budget. You have to hide the added note from view when you read it: 'Just a placeholder until I can give you a pearl necklace of my own -S'.
You don't even open the fifth gift, choosing instead to quickly accept it and ushering the announcer into calling the next name. You feel a little faint when you actually open it once you're in the privacy of your room — it's a fucking vibrator. The little instruction manual says something about it being remote controlled — so where is the controller?
#merry chrysler#also just some notes about each gift#gaz buys two bottles of the perfume just so he can spray it on his pillow while jacking off#ghost has you down to a tee and no he does not think that comes off as stalkerish what do u mean#soap is. well. soap#and best believe price now permanently has the remote in his pocket and is always turning it on and off just to check if you have it in#:)#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#call of duty#cod x reader#ghost#ghost x reader#johnny mactavish#simon riley x reader#soap x reader#captain price#john price x reader#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#poly!141
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♠️ AiB males in Mingle-Game with you ♠️
A/N: I thought about this kind of headcanons while I was trying to fall asleep. 😬
The game is part of the second season from Squid Game, so if you haven't seen it yet but want to watch it- This writing may contain slight spoilers! 😶🌫️
Characters: Aguni, Arisu, Chishiya, Karube, Niragi
POV: gn!neutral
Warnings: Squid Game related; may contain Spoilers for season 2!
A g u n i
That man really hates playing games with you together. He isn't showing, but he is afraid of losing you in one of those games especially when it comes to the thought of losing you 'cause he is not able to protect you ...
He has the will of a leader and he may be pretty strong, physically and psychologically, but not knowing which game you'll join together almost kills him ever and ever again.
That's why Aguni always tries his best to convince you to play different games but this time he lost the discussion.
Thanks god it's not heart game the two of you joined, but clubs.
Bro, that man breathes a sigh of relief, you wouldn't believe it.
No chances he will leave your side, he stands by you and follows you everywhere you go, no matter what.
And he is watching you the. whole. damn. time.
Standing on the circling plate, he will touch you with his elbow when you start moving your body because of the playing song.
"Don't forget, it's all or nothing. Stay focused and stop dancing, you need to concentrate."
... He is finding it pretty cute actually but who is he to confess?
Ah, the plate stops moving and the song stops playing. A voice tells the number of people each group needs before running in one of the rooms you need to hide to win this game.
Good for you, nearly everybody knows Aguni.
And nearly everybody is fine with whoever wants to build a group with them, I mean everyone is just trying to survive ...
"A group of 3 people?" "Can't be this hard to find one more- no time to lose!"
Be prepared, he will carry you over his shoulder without hesitation ... He just grabs you and flicks you over ...
"Wow, alright, calm down Aguni, I have legs myself, you know?!" "Daily dose of training."
A r i s u
Same as Aguni, Arisu wouldn't step away from your side, leaving you alone in the crowd of people you may or may not know by even their names.
He's a cutie pie. While standing on the moving plate, he would stand by you as near as possible, just to make sure he isn't losing you.
Plus he wants to make sure you know he will always be there for you and no matter what happens, he isn't going anywhere without you.
He lost the most meaningful people in his life already. It broke him. Losing you- it's hard to say if he would make it another time.
Still, different from Aguni , he wouldn't mind moving with you to the song a little.
Actually it would be pretty fun to him, dancing to the rhythm with you.
For a second he would forget why you guys are even here ...
Lord have mercy, he loves you for that.
If he is able to, he would even sing along, sadly korean doesn't belong to his strength ...
Freestyle!
"Love, did you even know what the children are singing about?" "Actually no, but this song is both a curse and a blessing."
People will look at you as if you are a couple that is losing their minds- how can you have fun with the knowing this could be your last minute on earth?
Seriously, how?
"Oh, the song ends ..." "And we aren't moving anymore ..." "2!", the unknown voice tells the players.
Arisu grabs your wrist, not thinking about it twice, and drags you behind him, towards the door closest to you.
"Oi, don't be so rough on me!" "Sorry, gamer reflexes!"
C h i s h i y a
The strategist of this game.
Nobody would find a sample in this game as fast as he does.
Play with him the first and second round, and he will be able to guess the number of group members for every following turn.
"They will do everything to kill as many people as possible." "You don't say." "It's important to know. Based on that, the numbers are chosen." "Are you really trying to find a ... system behind this game?" "I'm not trying, I already found it. Just stand near me and everything will be okay."
Remembering the last games you played with him, you know he is right.
At first it was hard for you to trust him. He was always a mysterious person to you- calm, smart, ambitious. That makes him ... kind of a dangerous person.
But since you started "dating" him, it gets easier for you letting him take control in games you play both together.
"Promise you bring us out here alive ...?" "Not a big fan of promises, but this ... this is easy to handle."
He takes your hand you held out to him when you asked him that question. But not just to give you his word- he interlaces his fingers with yours instead, pulling you a little closer to him and making sure you stand by him.
Your face gets red like a tomato ...
"You know, you make the games a little more important to me, Y/N." "Huh? What do you mean?" "Your life matters more to me than my own life- so I'm willing to protect you. Even though it's just with my high level of intelligence." "... Well, who are you and what have you done to Chishiya?", you laugh while he is just giggling a little.
K a r u b e
Fun is important to him, he doesn't want to think about dying the whole time.
So he doesn't want YOU to think of dying the whole time, too.
I guess Karube could be the one dancing with like crazy to the song. Not just moving his body back and forth.
More like Thanos and Nam-gyu did in the series ... I was laughing so hard when I saw them dancing on the plate. 😭
Back to topic; he just wants you to feel comfortable and, above all, safe around him.
He loves having you close to him. As long as you are with him, he is sure that he can do anything.
He is also willing to achieve everything he has set himself as a goal.
Accordingly, if he has made it his goal to leave the game with you ...
... then he WILL leave this game WITH you!
Means, without ifs and buts, he stays with you. From start to finish.
We know how impulsive Karube can be.
Anyone who stands in the way of him and his plans will never be happy again.
For example, the player who tried to push in front of him when you two were running in a room together.
Then he is simply grabbing the clothes and pulls the foreign person out of the room again- with force and full physical strength.
If the stranger is lucky, he gets away with a broken nose.
If not, he will die- Karube has no mercy for people blocking his way.
"Well, you know, it's not necessary always punching people in the face when they are just panicking and fighting for their lives, Babe ..." "I know, but I was panicking, too. And I want to live. And I want you to live, too, y/n. I want a future with you, not with a-" “Unknown human being!", you say, stopping him from uttering an insult. "You are too good for this world, love."
N i r a g i
Bro's kinda rough to everyone, not just you. We all know what a beast he can be, so when it comes to finding group members, he will use every method that comes to his mind to make people join both of you.
Niragi isn't good with words. He would provoke the other players or manipulate them making sure you and himself can leave this game alive.
Yeah ... he has a soft spot for you.
Can you imagine him having a heart!? 😭
Anyways, his life isn't as important as yours, for him at least.
That's doesn't mean he wants to die in here!
You are just his priority, so when the voice is telling a number and other players don't want him to join their group, he would do ANYTHING that you are able to join a group.
Yep, he would grab people by their collar.
And he would punch and kick them if necessary.
... His firearm could also be used.
"Listen here, you litte fuck. You will make sure that you team up with her and you will make sure that you end up properly in one of these ugly rooms, that she gets out of here alive. Otherwise-" Niragi points his gun at the unknown player, ignoring your "No, stop! Put that down, are you crazy?!"
Damn, he would kill everyone in here to make sure you will survive, it's insane ...
Funny to say, his method is working very well ...
#alice in boderland x reader#chishiya x reader#niragi x reader#arisu x reader#arisu ryohei x reader#chishiya shuntaro x reader#niragi suguru x reader#alice in borderland#aib#alice in borderland headcanons#arisu headcanons#chishiya headcanons#niragi headcanons#alice in borderland x you#arisu x you#chishiya x you#niragi x you#chishiya shuntaro alice in borderland#aib headcanons#short headcanons#alice in borderland blog#arisu#chishiya#niragi#aguni headcanons#karube daikichi#karube x reader#aib karube#aguni morizono#aguni aib
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