#one foot away from going into his usual fetal position

[kathaynesart]

A sketch of Replica Leo immediately after his EPF Interview in this scene, but before being reunited with his brothers here. I hope to dive more into the fallout of such a defining moment in Leo's young life and how it would go on to affect him once I get my Patreon up. In the meantime. Enjoy the little angsty sneak peek.

[thatonewatching]

John Doe headcanons

⬆️ That fella up there

(Canon: Bisexual, Fluid-Nonbinary, 20-40, 'Regular Guy' is his species, always messy hair, hair can move on its own, pupils expand when excited, tongue is a cute heart shape, too many teeth, his teeth aren't dirty, just naturally yellow, scars aren't because he's 'sad', doesn't know how to wear his jacket right, 112 pounds, 4 fingers on each hand, three toes on each foot, 5'8, tongue is very long, naturally black nails, shirt changes every time you look at him, has eyelids and chooses when he blinks, body has a clay-like texture, he doesn't have any organs but can for them if he or you chooses, and he has a hard time closing his, mouth fully.) All of that is canon, and I'm referencing the canon ref sheet from the actual creator of the game. You can find it on the John Doe Wiki. <3

He can't seem to get the hang of technology. No matter how many times you explain what to press and click and download, he didn't seem to be interested. Not until he found out that he could contact you through it, that is.

He immediately tried to understand it after finding out he could talk to you while you were away, instead of following you to work. That's not going to stop anytime soon, though. He just can't handle you being away!

Purrs, kind of. Like if he's happy or something, or just feels positive in general. Curls up when he sleeps, always in the fetal position when he sleeps, as weird and uncomfortable as it may seem.

He likes animals but won't get any because he feelsit'll take some attention off of him, and we can't have that, can we? No. Prefers animals like rats and snakes because they fascinate him. Doesn't understand their 'workings' as he says.

Doesn't need to blink. He doesn't have the need to wet his eyes, considering that they're for show. Sleeping, as well. Doesn't feel the need to sleep, but he learned how, in his own way. It's not sleeping, exactly. It's more of a state of tranquility and peace. The first time you fell asleep, he thought you died, never having seen a being sleep. He understands now, though, so it's all right.

His hair is very weird. Sometimes it's soft, fluffy, and sometimes stiff and matted. He sheds a lot. It doesn't matter what he's done or is doing, his hair gets everywhere. He's not allowed near the food when you're cooking, because you don't want hair for dinner. He says it adds flavor, seeing it as a way to be closer to one another.

Likes piercings. He enjoys the thought of having needles go through his skin to add element to his body, but not vice versa. Refuses to think about you getting hurt, even if you assure him it's fine. Will not allow anyone, including yourself, to hurt you.

Likes fire. It makes his clay-like skin hardened, rather than how doughy it usually feels. Unlike fire, he hates water. Makes him all gooey and slimy, and he doesn't like that. Wants to feel solid-it's better for hugs.

Speaking of hugs, he is practically attached at the hip. Always has some part of him on you and vice versa. Whether it be holding hands, a finger through your belt loop, or just a hand in your back pocket, he's content. If physical touch isn't your thing, then he'll tell you how much he adores you. You don't like words of affirmation? No problem! He'll do anything you need him to! Feel bad for him doing so much? Spend some time together! Whether it be watching a movie, cuddling, cooking (even though he sheds and doesn't know how to cook in the slightest), or even just being around each other, doing your own things. Need your space? Don't have to tell him twice! He'll get you some gifts. You said you wanted something three years ago? Done. Any physical item or thing he can provide to you will be provided. Long story short, he'll do whatever you want.

Wears a lot of different types of clothes. Skirts, pants, crop tops, shorts, whatever. One thing he doesn't love is jeans. He'll wear them, but he prefers sweats or skirts. Can't deal with the feeling of scratchy clothes. Will literally chew them up and throw them away. Speaking of clothes, he steals yours. Especially if they're dirty or need to be washed. Wears them until you take them for the wash. Gets sad when you take them.

His voice cracks occasionally, and he gets so upset about it. Will take a deep 'breath', or the closest thing he does to breathing, and says the sentence again. He doesn't like when it happens and stops talking until you force him if it happens a lot that day.

The first time that you told him you loved him, he wanted to cry, even though he can't and doesn't fully understand why people do it in the first place. "Why are you crying?" he asked, squinting. "Because you're suffocating me!" you wheezed. "Oh."

He uses his one-eyed form at home, knowing you understand it's easier and more comfortable. He really doesn't understand how to read all that well, so you taught him. He got the hang of it quickly and likes to leave you notes and texts. He constantly has tabs on you. Whether it be him coming into your job to walk around and talk to you, or him being in his hair ball form and in your shoulder or bag or something. Always around you. Always watching. Always comes back. (I'm so sorry.)

Calls you things like my love, dear, my dearest, sweetheart, gorgeous, beautiful, and things like that. Loves, loves, loves when you call him pretty boy/girl. Practically melts in your arms. They also love when you call them sweet things and mumble sweet nothings in her ear while you're together, especially when you're cuddling. Adores it when you run your fingers through her hair, and a soft purring emanates from him.

It may or may not wrap around your hand when you try to pull away....

That's all for now, guys! I'll be making more of these if I think of them. Requests and asks are open, so feel free to do that! (I'm so bored.) Stay safe, hydrated, and happy! Love you all! <3

[artiststarme]

The Gift of Not Dying Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Yay, we're done with Starcourt now! I hope you guys like this part and if you do, please let me know in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve just wanted to go back to Hopper’s cabin and recover enough from his death, concussion, and whatever the fuck else he had going on so things could get back to normal. So he could go back to just being the kid that worked at Scoops Ahoy that had a thing for the town’s nerdy metalhead. He wanted to go on a date with Eddie and hear Hopper giving him a shovel talk to keep him in line. 

He didn’t want to have to blend in with the crowd to avoid being shot or hide from the Russians in the food court. He just wanted to be a normal teenager for a little while whose biggest worry was taking the boy that he liked on a date. Was that so much to ask?

Apparently so because right then he was anxiously curled up in the fetal position in some random fast food restaurant in Starcourt, trying desperately to silence his heavy breathing to avoid drawing the attention of the evil Russians. How was he supposed to protect his friends against the automatic rifles some of these guys were packing? He’d be fine, with the drugs out of his system, he’d come back. But Dustin, Robin, and Erica? One misplaced bullet and they’d be gone for good. 

Him and Eleven had been practicing his telekinesis but he was still leagues away from being anywhere close to reaching the level of her powers. All he could do was partially crinkle a soda can, there was no way he could fling even one of these guys away in order to escape. Steve wasn’t even 100% certain that he could deflect a bullet under this kind of pressure.

They sat in silence with bated breath for what seemed like forever. They could hear the Russians walking around, some unintelligible dialogue being exchanged. It seemed that they were going to survive this… and then his foot twitched. It bumped a fallen steel tray and the sound was deafening in the silence. Shit, Steve had just killed his friends. They all heard the Russian’s footsteps come closer, waiting in dread to feel the pain of the bullet. But the man never fired. In place of the expected pops of gunfire, they heard a car alarm closely followed by the smash of metal and glass. 

They waited a moment before peeking over the serving counter of the fast food joint. Steve didn’t see any Russians with their guns pointed at them. No, he saw El. Her arm still extended towards the car with a small stream of blood leaking from her nose. His little sister had saved their lives once again. 

Steve ran ahead of his friends to meet the other half of the Party. He saw El climb down the escalator first and swept her up into a hug. “El!”

“Steve! I was worried. Are you… okay?” She asked him, her face smushed in his shoulder. 

“Yeah kiddo, I’m fine. I promise, I’m all good.” He pulled back to smile at her reassuringly. She gave a small smile in response before Dustin was pushing Steve away from them and hugging her himself. 

“You swung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” He laughed. Some of the Party members, specifically Jonathan and Nancy, were looking at Steve in confusion. 

“Lucas?” Erica spoke. 

“What are you doing here?” Lucas asked her, throwing his hands out to his sides. 

“Ask them, it’s their fault!” She pointed at them and Steve couldn’t even defend himself.

“True yeah, that’s totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.” 

“I don’t understand what happened to that car,” Robin said desperately, her brain was scrambling for a logical explanation but it wouldn’t find one. 

Dustin ripped off the bandaid for her and said, “El has superpowers.”

“I’m sorry?” She asked. 

Usually Steve would be nicer and more patient considering he’d reacted the same way just last year. But these were trying times and he didn’t have any more patience to spare. “Superpowers. She threw it with her mind. C’mon, catch up.” 

“That’s El?” Erica asked, her eyes lighting up in recognition. 

“Who’s El?” Robin squinted, still confused with the lackluster explanation she’d received. 

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Nancy said in her passive-aggressive way that was condescendingly polite. 

“I’m Robin, I work with Steve.”

“She cracked the top secret code,” Dustin defended her. 

“Yeah which is how we found out about the Russians in the first place,” Steve added. He wasn’t going to let some twerp upstage him in sticking up for his new best friend. 

“Russians? Wait, what Russians?” Jonathan asked confusedly. 

“The Russians!” Steve wasn’t sure how he wasn’t understanding. There wasn’t a clearer way to say it. 

“Those were Russians?” Max asked.

“Some of them,” Erica answered her, clearing absolutely nothing up for anyone. 

“What are you talking about?” Lucas exasperatedly questioned.  

“Did you hear our code red?” Dustin asked.

“Yeah but we couldn’t understand half of what you were saying,” Mike yelled at him. 

“Goddamn low battery!”

“How many times do I have to tell you with the low battery?!” Steve yelled for emphasis. He’d reminded him so many times to carry extras!

“‘Kay, well everything worked out, didn’t it, Steve?” The little bastard had the nerve to sass him right now?

“‘Worked out’? We almost died!” Erica pointed out. 

“Yeah, but we didn’t, did we?” 

“We were pretty damn close…” Steve trailed off when he noticed Eleven walking away. Her steps were labored and her hands shook at her sides. He saw her bring her hands to her ears for a moment before she whimpered and fell to the ground. “El!” 

He dropped to her side just a second before Mike did. 

“My leg, my leg,” she whimpered. Steve could do little more than to squeeze her hand and pet her hair as some of the kids ran to get supplies. 

Something in her leg was moving and just seeing it in his peripheral had Steve feeling nauseous. Even more so when Jonathan pierced her skin with a cooking knife. “Oh my god, I’m going to puke.”

Jonathan digging around with a knife wasn’t helping anything and El’s screaming just got louder. 

“Stop, stop, I can do it” She turned pleading eyes to Steve but he just shook his head in panic. He couldn’t do it. His telekinetic powers still sucked ass and irrationally, he didn’t want the party to find out about them. They might be fine with El’s but his were so much more morbid, there was no way they’d support them. He felt awful as he watched determination fill El’s eyes. She didn’t deserve to have to perform rudimentary surgery on herself just because Steve was squeamish and hadn’t been practicing his powers as well as he should. 

Nevertheless, with some more screams and the last of her energy, El pulled it from her leg with her powers and threw the disgusting, fleshy tidbit as far from the group as possible. It tried to wiggle away and made some disgusting screeches and squeaks as it moved. But it only scooched a few inches before a boot slammed down on it. Then, there was Hopper. He was holding a gun and glancing between El and Steve with varying ranges of horror. 

“Jesus Christ, what’ve you kids gotten yourselves into this time?” He asked them, already exasperated with the situation despite not hearing any of it. He looked between El and Steve, his eyes focusing on her cut up leg and Steve’s purpling face. “What the hell?”

All of the kids rushed over each other in their descriptions. Steve zoned out of most of it. This was all too much, too fast. His mind was whirring and he almost felt like he was back on drugs. “It destroyed the cabin? Okay, wait. Just to be clear, this big fleshy spider thing that hurt El. It’s some sort of gigantic… weapon?”

“Yes,” Nancy answered curtly. 

“But instead of like, screws and metal, the Mindflayer made its weapon with melted people,” Steve raised an eyebrow to ask if he was hearing that right. 

“Yes, exactly!” Nancy nodded.

“Yeah, okay. I-yeah, I’m just making sure.” He’d gone through some shit but this might be the most disturbing thing he’d ever heard. 

“Are we sure this thing is still out there, still alive?” Joyce asked them all. 

“El beat the shit out of it but… yeah, it’s still alive,” Max told her regretfully. 

“But if we close the gate again…” Will said. 

“...and cut the brain off from it’s body,” Max continued. 

“And kill it,” Lucas finished. “Theoretically.”

Steve was so fucking over this. He thought they were done with this once they beat the Russians. Now there was a fleshy monster killing people with mind powers? He sat on the bench with Robin, both of their minds melting together in solidarity. She’d joined at a bad time. The demogorgon and demodogs weren’t a walk in the park but something about this situation gave him a bad feeling. He didn’t like what was coming. 

Steve let El and Hopper talk for a few minutes alone before he took her place. “Hey Hop.”

“What the hell, kid? I thought you were at work, how did you get roped into this?” 

“I’m innocent! Dustin, man, he dragged me into this shit again. He came into Scoops with a Russian transmission so we decoded it, got stuck in an elevator, Robin and I got tortured by some Russians, I got killed again, and then we got really high and not in a good way. Where have you been?”

Hopper just looked at him blankly for a second before his whispers became furious. “You died again?! Goddammit Harrington! You have to be more careful, you can’t be so reckless with your life!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had any control over being literally tortured by Russians!” Steve whisper-yelled, flailing his hands around in his own defense. 

“Why didn’t you come to me about the transmission? The next time you hear something like that, I need you to come to me!” Hopper said, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Yes Hop, I'll come find you immediately the next time a kid and I intercept a secret Russian communication. Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson.”

Hopper sighed and wrapped a burly arm around his shoulders. “I know, kid. Stay strong, okay? I just need you to give Henderson a ride to his radio tower and then you can recover out of the danger zone. And absolutely no more dying on me, alright? My heart can’t take it, kid.”

“I’ll do my best, old man.”

Hopper scoffed in laughter and ruffled his hair, “alright smartass, get going. Stay safe and I’ll see you when this is over.”

“Sounds good Hop, stay safe.” With another hug in parting, Steve led the way to the Toddfather. The only good thing about this entire situation was getting to drive that beauty. They squabbled on the way there and Steve was able to tune out and let himself think. 

It didn’t feel right to be leaving the rest of the Party there when there were so many chances of things going wrong. Since day one, he’d been the one to lay his life on the line to protect everyone. But now, he was driving away to play chauffeur. It just felt wrong and the pit in his stomach only grew larger for each mile further he drove. 

When they did get to Cerebro at Weathertop, he saw the lights of town start to flicker and the Starcourt portion of the Party wasn’t answering the radio. Steve’s gut was telling him to get back there and it hadn’t steered him wrong yet. He started running to the car, he had to get them out of there.

“Where are you going?!” He only paused slightly to answer Erica’s question. 

“To get them the hell out of there. Stay here, contact the others!” And then he was off once again. He barely noticed Robin running after him or hopping next to him in the car. They each stayed silent on the drive, far too aware of the looming danger that they were approaching. 

Steve pressed on the gas pedal and didn’t lift up when he saw Billy’s camaro heading straight towards the Wheeler’s station wagon with the kids in it. He pressed down harder and didn’t stop until his world snapped black in the collision. 

Steve’s eyes opened to a pitch black world. Shit, he was back in the blank space. While his aches and pains were gone and a feeling of safety blanketed him, there was an undercurrent of panic. Hopper told him not to die again and less than thirty minutes later, here he was… dead from an ill-conceived suicide run. And Robin! Was she okay? He hadn’t wanted her to come with him but there hadn’t been any time for words to be exchanged. He needed her to be alright, he needed his best friend. 

He also needed to wake up. When he focused on finding his body in the blank space, he saw Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin lugging it from the front seat of the Toddfather into the trunk of the Station Wagon. He saw Robin crying where she cradled his head and saw the kids watching on in horror from their spots in the backseat. He needed to wake up now. 

Steve focused all of his energy into touching his own corpse, of forcing his way back to consciousness. And… it worked. The blank space blurred for a second before his eyes were blinking open, staring directly into Robin’s. The whole car let out a sigh of relief. They hadn’t lost him after all. 

For Steve, the rest of the night passed in a haze. He distantly remembered pain, fear, a particularly confusing moment of Dustin singing over the radio, and bright flashes of color. His body went on auto-pilot as his mind lagged behind. However, everything became disturbingly clear again when he was sat on the bumper of the ambulance outside of the still-smoking mall. 

When he saw Joyce hugging Will, the bad feeling that was clogging this throat the entire night sparked to life. It was at that exact moment that he knew Hopper was dead. He would have come out with her to hug El, and Steve, the second he could. For him not to be there, he had to be dead. 

A feeling of bitterness overcame him. What made Steve more deserving of this power than Hopper? Good, pure Hopper that took in two scared and lonely kids. Jim Hopper, the Chief of Police that risked his life to ensure that no one else would have to worry about the Upside Down. Hop, the guy that became his dad even though Steve was a bitch at least half the time. 

Instead of a girl hugging her father, he saw El standing alone in the middle of the chaos. She was watching Joyce and Will embrace with tears in her eyes. She knew as well as he did that Hopper was gone. 

Steve couldn’t let his little sister deal with her grief alone. He pulled his aching body up from where it sat on the bumper of the ambulance and forced himself over to comfort her. As soon as she caught eyes with him, El ran straight into his arms. 

“El, it’s going to be okay.” 

“I am sad, Seven. Hop… he is dead,” her tears wet his already ruined shirt and his streaked down his face to match.

“I know and that hurts. It’s okay to be sad, I’m sad too. But we still have each other, right?” He tried to reassure her but he could tell it wasn’t helping much. 

“Steve, you are okay?” She asked into his chest.

“Yeah, I will be.” He nodded. He had to be. 

Joyce came over to them then and shot a puzzled look at Steve before turning to El. “El, I’m so sorry about your dad but you can stay with us now, okay? We can go back to my house now.”

“But Steve?”

“Steve has to go back to his parents now,” she didn’t seem to notice his sudden pallor but El did. “He should go to the hospital too. Steve, you took some nasty hits so you should get checked out in the ER.”

“Yeah, I’ll go do that Mrs. Byers. El, go with her okay? I’ll see you in a few days, I’ll stop by.”

“No brother, I want to go with you! Hop would-” He cut her off with a gentle shake of his head. 

“El, I have to go get checked out. Mrs. Byers is going to take you home and I’ll call later. Okay, I promise.”

“Promise.” El repeated, staring at him uneasily. 

“Yeah, I promise. Go ahead.”

She was still reluctant to leave him but eventually, Joyce was able to pull her away with one arm around her and the other wrapped around Will. 

Then, Steve was left alone. Despite what he said, he was not going to the hospital. He was pretty sure he had a concussion but it wasn’t like it could kill him. And he certainly wasn’t going back to the destroyed cabin that held too many bittersweet memories or his parents house that he hadn’t been to in months. 

He still didn’t have his car keys so he walked. He walked all the way to the only place that he could now consider safe. The only place he could relax and feel loved. And as the trailer door opened to reveal Eddie Munson, Steve knew that he made the right choice. 

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Part 14

[wardenswateringhole]

Reclamation - Chapter 1

CW

-death mention

Cut for length. Enjoy.

Keys twirled around Emmet’s finger as he walked toward his home. His mind sorted through several different lists in his head. All the paper work done? Check. Trains checked and secured? Check. Depot Agents debriefed and schedules made? Check.

When one list finished another began. Was the new hire squared away? Did they receive their required employee materials? Was their uniform going to be available on their first day? Yes, yes and Yes.

Did he need to go shopping? Milk and eggs were stocked. Maybe he should pick up some soda? No. Not this time. Did he need more batteries for the joltiks? Battery supplies were holding for now. Could pick up extra treats tomorrow. The team were doing an extra good job on the battle line. They deserved it.

Next list was ready. Could they do better? What strategies felt fun and new? Were they getting stale? Maybe it was time for a change. Would that bring more challengers? More challengers would be nice. Challenger numbers felt too low…

When was that meeting again? It’s written down somewhere. What was it about? Challenger numbers being too low. Share holders had a problem with that? Not sure why. Things were just fine.

There was no need to worry. None at all.

Emmets mental rambling came to a halt as the key jingled and the door to his home opened. A white coat and hat were hung with care and shoes were slipped off and place by the door. The tune of an overly energetic children’s show could be heard playing on a television deeper into the abode. The smell of spices and warm food wafted through the air pairing logically with the sounds of sizzling and chopping coming from the kitchen. “I’m home!” Emmet voice rang out through it all. An instant response of happy giggling and the sound of small footsteps rushing toward his location could be heard. Two young boys came around the corner, their faces bright and excited to see him. He made to kneel in greeting them before he noticed one was traveling far faster than the other. Emmet tried to stop the inevitable. “Emery! Wait! Brake--!” Emery lost his footing almost as soon as the words left Emmet’s mouth. The other boy watched on as Emery barreled straight into Emmet’s crotch, causing the tall man to crumple like paper. Emmet’s form flopped to the floor, curled in the fetal position and desperately pulling air into his lungs as the pain blurred his vision. He only vaguely made out the two silver headed forms standing over him. A small voice reached his ears through the blood roaring in them. “Sorry, Dad…” A third taller figure soon appeared. They waved the children away and leaned down to Emmet. Soon Emmet was being led to a sofa in the living room by the dark-haired figure. They were much shorter than him but still managed to support his weight. The smell of food clung to them. As he stretched out on the sofa, the children reappear carrying an icepack. She gently chided the rambunctious boy. “Emery, what have we said about slowing down and watching our step?” “Speed, not haste, Momma.” “That’s right.” Emmet’s voice croaked out. “Please drive more safely in the future…”

The boy nodded sullenly. Even though it was obvious he was sorry, his mouth still remained stretched in a smile. He was very much an almost exact copy of his father. The everlasting grin remaining plastered on his face through everything. The other child looked on with bright eyes and a thumb tucked firm in his mouth. He also sported the same hair and face as his brother and father. Unlike them however, his mouth stayed bowed in a frown. It usually stayed hidden behind the fist attached to the thumb he currently coveted. The boy tugged at Emery’s arm and pointed to a pile of papers and crayons in front of the TV. Emery’s face lit of instantly. “Great idea, Iggy! Let’s show dad what we made!” They scampered over and grabbed a couple of sheets before returning and holding them up proudly for Emmet to see. They were both drawings of the boys with Pokémon of various kinds riding on trains of dubious design. The one Emery held had a train that looked to have flames coming out of the smokestack, while the other looked like it shot electricity out of its wheels. “We’re gonna have a battle train just like you when we grow up! This is totally what it’s gonna look like!” Emmet raised his head and looked over the drawings with as much interest as he could muster. His voice was a bit less strained as the pain in his groin began to subside. “That’s great, boys! Yep! But which train will you two take?” The children turned the papers back toward themselves and inspected their work closely. Emery frowned as best as his face could let him. “We don’t know… Iggy says mine is better, but I like his more. We can’t decide.” “Hmm…” Emmet stared at his sons thoughtfully. He was incredibly thankful they had inherited his interest in trains. He didn’t know how he would have felt had they gained an interest in, Dragons forbid, planes. They carried a healthy interest in Pokémon as well, despite not being ready for their first Pokémon yet.

Above it all, Emmet could not get over how much the pair looked exactly like him and Ingo when they were children. Many joked that it was Emmet that truly birthed them. His wife, Lela, would vehemently disagree. No one could deny the twenty-four hours of labor she endured to bring these children in the world only for them to look nothing like her. Emmet had remained by her side the entire time, save for the time he had fainted, and the doctors had to tend to him alongside her. A bump on the elbow and an IV needle seemed trivial compared to what she had gone through and the sheer amount of joy he had felt seeing his children’s faces for the first time. Tiny, pink, and covered in tiny translucent tufts that would eventually grow to the silver locks they now sported. It didn’t feel that long ago... “Why not try to combine your designs in some way?” Emmet felt he would have been blinded had he actually seen the light bulbs flare to life in their little heads. Their eyes went wide and bright as his words. “That’s a great idea, dad! C’mon Iggy!” The other child nodded enthusiastically before they both ran off to their room with drawings in hand. Emmet chuckled weakly as Lela came to sit on the floor next to where he lay on the sofa. “Dad imparting more great wisdom?” “Yep. You know it.” She rested her head on his shoulder and ran her fingers through his hair. He sighed as her nails grazed his scalp gently. “How are you holding up?”

Emmet’s smile flattened as his eyes drifted to a picture on the wall. It was of Ingo in his subway boss uniform, saluting the camera with his trademark frown. A black band was wrapped around the corners of the frame. Other photos sat around it in various candid moments that had been caught of the subway boss. One of him laughing at something with a cat like smile, another with cake smeared on his face most likely during a party. Another of him and Emmet in the middle of roughhousing and staring at the camera like they had been caught committing a crime. They were all cherished memories Emmet had chosen to display in tribute to his long lost brother.

“I’m holding…” He responded after a long silence. He nuzzled his face against Lela’s head. “You?”

“Same…”

Emmet sighed deeply. “Seven years today… I had actually forgotten until I saw the flowers…”

Lela looked at him in surprise. “They’re still leaving tributes to him?”

Emmet nodded. “Every year. I thought it would stop. But no. He’s still remembered.”

Emmet new full well it would continue long into the future. Every year, on this day and during their birthday, flowers and small offerings would appear around a plaque dedicated to Ingo’s memory and the tragedy that took him. It was always hard to see, a stark reminder of his other half being gone from this world. It was also comforting in a way. The world still remembered Ingo. Ingo did not leave the world without leaving his mark on it. People still celebrated the fact that he had existed in the first place. Emmet could only hope to be remembered as favorably as his brother was when his time came.

“It almost feels like Ingo is still alive…” Emmet mused. “Like he could walk through the door at any moment…”

Lela nodded. “We both loved him dearly…”

Emmet scoffed. “And that love brought us together…”

“Yeah…” Lela kissed Emmet’s forehead. He regarded her a moment. His eyes seemed to be searching for something in her face. To him, she looked as beautiful as the day he married her. Her dark hair and emerald eyes always struck him as enchanting. It bothered him slightly the boys didn’t get her eyes. Deep and lustrous. He could stare at them all day. If something didn’t seem to haunt him every time he stared into them too deeply. Though it was his own reflection, it always looked like Ingo was staring back at him.

“Is there something wrong?”

Emmet hesitated but the words fell from his mouth anyway. “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

Emmet’s eyes widened slightly realizing the thought had come out his mouth instead of staying in his head where Lela couldn’t see. “Marrying me…” Emmet trailed off. “I mean… You belonged to Ingo first…”

“Emmet. We’ve been over this…” Her arms wrapped awkwardly but affectionately around his head. “Do you honestly think that I would not have taken your proposal and had your children had I not loved you?”

“Hmm… No.” Emmet replied flatly snuggling into the embrace. “It’s just… I… don’t feel I deserve this… You, the boys, this home… It feels like Ingo was cheated out of this life…”

Memories of Ingo speaking of how he had dreamed of the idyllic domestic life rose in Emmet’s head. He had caught Ingo looking at rings on his phone at one time. It had made Emmet giddy when he first realized what Ingo was planning. Now the memory made him sick to his stomach.

“We live as happily as we can in his honor…” Lela replied, trying her best to calm Emmet’s worries. “You know Ingo would be beside himself with worry if he knew we were miserable without him.”

Emmet nodded. He could not deny that Ingo was selfless to a fault. He would bend over backwards to ensure his loved ones were well and taken care of. The same conversation would most likely happen if the roles had been reversed. But they weren’t. Emmet was alive.

Ingo was not.

“You are right.” Emmet pressed his face into Lela’s shoulder. She could hear him sniffing against the fabric of her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you cooking what I think you are cooking?” His voice was muffled from his face still buried against her clothing. She laughed and pushed away from Emmet.

“Maybe. You’re just going to have to wait and find out.” She stood and smoothed her apron before looking back down at her husband. His eyes were tired.

“Why not relax before dinner? You know the boys are going to want you to play with them after eating.”

Emmet nodded as a yawn crept up almost as if on cue. Lela laughed once more and smiled sweetly at him. “I love you, Emmet.”

“I love you too, Lela.”

Lela walked away to finished dinner. Emmet made himself comfortable. His eyes drifted back to the wall dedicated to Ingo. Fate had played a cruel trick in taking Ingo away. What would Ingo think, Emmet wondered.

What would he think of his brother leading the life that was obviously meant for him?

“I wish you were here, Ingo…” Emmet muttered, closing his eyes. “I truly do.”

[dingdongdoodilydoodilydoo]

[there is snoring coming from outside your room. should you choose to open the door, an anon is curled up fetal position on the floor some feet away from a tray of cinnamon buns. it wouldn't take much inspection to tell that they're shitty and burnt, an attempt being made to cover up said fact by the icing that is drenching the sweets. there is a note haphazardly thrown to the side of the tray. the handwriting is scratchy and bold, occasional blots in the middle of sentences where words were misspelled and promptly marked out, along with letters whose parts drag on for just a bit long... as if someone was actively struggling to keep their eyes open. for the most part, it's not hard to read.]

thank you for all the times you generously let me rest with you. i know it's not a lot, but you might like these. i may have left the oven on a bit too long. sorry, i'm not a baker.

- 💤

Well, he couldn't ignore it forever.

At first he thought it was Murderface, who would frequently pass out near his room after drinking too much, and trying to sleep in Pickles' bed. But, its been over thirty minutes, and by that time someone would trip over the bassist and wake him up.

But who else would just fall asleep by his door like that?

Certainly not a Klokateer, they knew better than that.

Nathan was doing his own thing in his room, so was Murderface as far as he knew. Toki and Skwisgaar were out traveling to...what was it? A Moomin theme park, or something? Whatever, it probably didn't matter that much anyway.

He'd ignore it usually, but he had a gut feeling that had him more concerned than he would be usually. So, with an annoyed groan at his own suspicion, the redhead begrudgingly got up and took some lazy steps towards his door.

As he got closer, the sound of light snoring had gotten just slightly louder, just as well as an immense smell of something sweet filling his nose...although, it was as if the scent was...too sweet. Not to mention that the scent was poorly masking a lingering, acrid, burnt scent, leaving an overwhelming mix to find it's way past his door.

But, it wasn't...too bad.

With curiosity prying at his psyche, Pickles opened the door, the irritating sound of hinges squeaking causing the drummer to scrunch his nose.

The sight of the familiar anon on the floor made his expression soften, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his gaze falls on their sleeping figure.

"Aw, c'mahn man..." He chuckles, leaning down and picking up the note, assessing the scribbles and lazy handwriting strewn across the sheet of paper.

Maybe Pickles was a sap, maybe he was soft, but c'mon, there was an effort made! And despite how it...looks...it meant a lot, even if it wasn't very professional.

Plus, who doesn't like things a little...charred? yeah, charred.

...maybe it was just a him thing.

The drummer lazily folded the note and tossed it somewhere, where it landed? He couldn't tell, but that wasn't his concern right now.

He carefully picks up the tray of the cinnamon buns, setting them down on one of his two nightstands before bringing his attention back to the sleeping person by his door.

"Okee, dood, you need to get more sleep, 'm gettin' real concerned here." He laughs nervously, taking a step outside and squatting down by the anon. "Wake up, c'mahn."

"...dood, dood- dooood...wake up, up time, get up, time to get up-"

The lack of response was...certainly helpful.

The redhead sighed, looking around the hallway before adjusting their figure slightly and pulling them up.

"M'kay, let's go." He whispered, shutting the door with his foot before carrying them bridal style towards his bed, gently setting them down and pulling the covers over them.

"...you get good sleep, okee? Naht that hard." The drummer rolls his eyes, crossing his arms before laughing, evident that his comment was a joke. "...nyeah, 'm just kiddin'. It's hard to sleep sometimes, I know dat-"

He sits down next to them, patting their back.

"You just go to sleep, m'kay? Just...stay right dere, 'n just go to bed-" he whispers, leaning against his headboard. "I'll stay here til' you wake up."

[riallasheng]

third part (second half of TOS Thunderbirds)

      Gordon was always light sleeper who tended not to move once he fell asleep, but after the hydrofoil accident he actually became a fairly heavy sleeper who STILL doesn't move much - if at all - once he falls asleep. He has an adjustable bed and how he sleeps tends to depend on how his back is feeling. He varies between sleeping on his side (with a pillow between his knees), sleeping with the head of the bed (and sometimes teh foot) raised up, sleeping with just the foot of the bed raised, and on bad days he tends to sleep in the fetal position with a body pillow. Like John he tends to run cold when asleep, although unlike John with his insane pile of bedding, Gordon tends to go for a heated mattress and a heated weighted blanket. Gordon is very much a morning bird, tending to fall asleep early and wake with the dawn. He usually does hydrotherapy swim sessions both before going to bed and once he wakes up, and the Tracy's pool is designed so that it can function as a true hydrotherapy pool, able to change temperature, pressure and even create water currents. Gordon usually only does hydrotherapy as a preventative measure / maintenance measure, and as a result the pool is usually at 'normal pool' settings       TinTin is a heavy sleeper who tends not to move much, if at all, but is a snuggler and a 'burrower / tunneler', having more than one body pillow and a pile of throw pillows on her bed (the others tend to joke that she has enough pillows that she's caused a pillow shortage... something that she tends to get teased about given she has never managed a shopping trip that did not result in her buyng at least one pillow, and the fact that there is at least one layer of pillows you have to dig through before you get to the mattress). She tends to burrow into her pillows and make little pillow forts and pillow tunnels.       Alan is an active sleeper with vivid dreams who sometimes suffers from (fairly mild) sleep walking. his family has gotten very skilled at catching him and getting him back to bed over the years, and fortunately Alan - even when sleepwalking - tends to stay away from dangerous areas like the hangers and stairs and going outside. He is a notoriously bad bedfellow, QUITE the whirling dervish, and when he sleeps with his others they almost always end up with bruises the few times they don't end up on the floor.

Hey my tripleace gurl!

Would you kindly do ☾ - sleep headcanon and ♡ - romantic headcanon

Heyo Mbali!!

Ooooo, fun ones!!! (also, I have GOT to replay bioshock sometime soon XD )

Let's see... under cut because long XD

…

Also ended up needing to break this into two parts because LONG, so the romance emoji will be a reblog to this.  I’d @ you, but I know you don’t have a tumblr so I’ll just dm you the link on discord XD 

...

Also this keeps glitchign out, so even THIS PART will be in a few parts in reblogs =_=

Fireball XL5

☾ -       Steve sleeps light but long. He can manage on 6 hours, but does best with 8, and he begins to drag fast if his sleep is interrupted / broken up. He tends not to move much when sleeping       Venus sleeps like a ROCK. She falls asleep fast, easily, and once she puts her head down she can (and has) slept through a space battle and crashlanding.       Matt tends to battle with insomnia, and when he does sleep it tends to be in 2 hour power naps and is a very ACTIVE sleeper, always getting tangled in his bedding and even sleep walking on occasion.

------

Lady Penelope

☾ -       Lady Penelope sleeps very lightly, and runs cold so whenever possible she'll have some form of heater in her bed... her bed at home has both a heated mattress and an electric blanket. She tends to be easily disturbed, switching between sleep and fully awake and aware almost instantly, and it can take her a long time to fall asleep again once she's awake. There are always weapons near (or on) her person when she's asleep. There is a knife and laser pistol under her pillow, and a heavy machine gun under her bed, on top of all the 'spy goodies' she's got stashed around her room and in her purse designed to look like normal items. She's also something of a cuddler, and has a body pillow that she loves, but will make due with a normal pillow or rolled up blanket (and she also ALWAYS ends up being an absolute cuddle monster to any bedfellows and it's impossible to escape her)       Parker is actually naturally a heavy sleeper, but has trained himself / been forced by life experience to be a light sleeper. Since he's come into Lady Penelope's employ, he's actually become a heavy sleeper again, and it he tends to be slow to wake and groggy for a fair while after he wakes.

------

Stingray

☾ -       Sam has an adaptive bed with railings on the side, and the bottom sheet is actually a very wide sheet that is attached to two mechanized rollers on either side of the bed that can essentially slide him from the edge of the bed to the middle or from the middle to the edge, which he often needs as he suffers from weakness in his left arm and thus has trouble pulling himself into / out of bed without it.  The bed can raise it’s head and foot like an adjustable bed.  Sam tends to run hot and thus prefers only a light cover, although as the winter months hit he’ll slowly increase the layers until he’s comfortable.  He’s a light sleeper, but tends not to move much while asleep.        Phones is a very light sleeper, and due to his time as a mercenary, he tends to wake quickly and sharply at any little thing.  It’s saved his life hundreds of times, but it does mean that he tends to only rarely get unbroken sleep, so he tends to take cat naps during the day.  He usually sleeps on his back with one arm tucked beneath his head / pillow (and generally resting on his knife there).  He tends to move little, if at all, while asleep.       Troy sleeps heavily / like the dead, but he wakes up quickly, easily – bright-eyed and bushy tailed, although it takes him a long time to fall asleep.  He tends not to move much when asleep, and usually sleeps on his stomach with his arms tucked under the pillow.  He likes a light cover to no sheets at all, and tends to sleep in shorts and nothing else if given a choice.       Atlanta tends to fall asleep fast, sleep light but long, and wakes quickly.  She’s trained herself to keep an ear out for her father having trouble, as Sam hates to impose on her or wake her and will do his best to get himself into and out of bed or deal with spikes of pain without waking her, and while he CAN manage for the most part, there are still tiems he needs help.  She tends to lay very still when sleeping, making few (if any) movements even during REM, but she does talk fairly extensively in her sleep.       Marina used to be a very heavy sleeper who tossed and turned and slept long and late.  However, her 9 months as Titan’s captive means that she now sleeps lightly, startling awake at any little sound or movement, and she often doesn’t get as deep a sleep as she needs, and sometimes doesn’t get any sleep at all.  She almost always sleeps curled up on her side, trying to make herself as small as possible.  She’s found that if she sleeps with someone else, she sleeps better, feeling protected and safe, and has – on bad nights – snuck into the rooms of most of her friends to curl up, and Atlanta, Phones and Fisher have gotten in the habit of poking their heads into her quarters before heading off to bed to see if she needs someone there.  She’s actually found most often snuggling up with Sam, Atlanta and Phones as they are light sleepers who don’t move much, which means she feels safe and guarded enough to sleep.  As time passes, and she begins to feel safe again, she’s starting to sleep heavier again, as well as starting to toss and turn a bit, and the number of times she needs to curl up with a friend are slowly dropping.       Fisher is a fairly active sleeper, tossing and turning a lot in his sleep, although he’ll settle quickly if he can snuggle or hug something, and as a result he has a body pillow that he’ll curl up around when he sleeps.