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theplumsoldier · 9 months

Text

aftermath 6

summary: a supply run, a dinosaur exhibit, and an old friend

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4,2k

warnings: vulgar language, companion feelz (horsie), mutual pining, slow burn, horny thoughts. pls let me know if i missed any <3<3

series: aftermath [5] + series masterlist

Ellie had finished her comic book and was bored out of her mind. Joel was cleaning guns in the kitchen, sat on the side of the kitchen table that allowed him to keep an eye on you and Ellie.

She was mindlessly throwing pieces of her granola bar at you as a release of her boredom, but it ended up a competition instead, practicing her aim by shooting for your half-open mouth.

With a nut hitting hard down on your eyelid, you stirred awake, ruining her little game.

"Ellie—what'd I tell you?" Joel barked harshly, the chair legs screeching against the floor as he stood up abruptly.

Ellie paid him no mind, instead waiting for you to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

"You been throwing granola at me?" you asked, puzzled to find traces of nutrition in your hair, mouth, and cleavage.

"Yeah," she grinned cheekily, snorting as she noticed you began chewing the ones she had managed to get in your mouth.

She helped you clean up the crumbs from the couch and blanket, and you said: "It's good to see you, Ellie."

You felt a bit lightheaded from the morphine, but coming to your senses you remembered falling fast asleep on the couch. You hadn't done anything to get comfortable, yet there was a blanket keeping your body warm and a pillow on the armrest.

Looking up, you noticed Joel. Warmth spread up from your chest to your neck.

He smiled down at you and chuckled, "ya dozed right off there, didn't you?"

It was clear he was merely teasing, but you looked down sheepishly, feeling your heartbeat intensify at his voice. You hated the effect he had on you but loved the feeling of it spreading in your body. It made you feel warm and safe.

"Ellie, why don't you show her the guestroom?"

She stands up and waits for you to do the same, nodding you in the direction of the room. You are still weary and have to find your balance as you follow her, wiping the sleep from your eyes. You thought of smiling at Joel as you walked away from his sight but decided against it, your cheeks heating up at the mere thought of looking at him.

Ellie's hands clasped against her sides, watching you as you looked around from the doorway.

The room was the size of your childhood bedroom, with walls painted a dark blue. There was a bed in the corner, a small side table, and a chair in flower-adorned fabric, but the room's current use was clearly for storage purposes.

"So... y'know how long you're gonna be staying?"

You could hear the springs squeak as you sat down on the bed, feeling the plushy comforter on the palms of your hands.

Ellie stood slumped against the wall, hands shoved halfway down her pockets. Her mouth formed a thin line, she looked to be chewing on the inside of her cheek, and you realized your muteness made her feel uncomfortable.

"I don't know," you finally answered, your voice barely above a whisper. You cleared your throat and looked away from her. "My house burned down."

"Oh shit!" Ellie reacted. If you had looked up at her you would have seen the traces of guilt, as if she had been responsible for your situation. "How'd that happen?"

The question sparked something from your memory and you winced from your recollection. The days after the incident, the days hiking through the woodland to reach Jackson had been worse on you than the fight with the Infected, though that pain had been nothing compared to the intense despair you felt over losing your home.

As much as you would like to, you couldn't blame the curious teenager.

You moved to make room for Ellie to sit beside you. She took the hint but sat on the furthest reach of the bouncy mattress, and you wondered if she was aware of your general discomfort with close proximity, or if she was, in fact, hesitant to get too close to you. When she looked at you with those deerlike brown eyes, you decided she had made a conscious choice to respect your personal space. You found yourself liking her a bit more for that.

"On the same day you left, an infected found me. Stumbled right into the fireplace, caught a curtain on fire and before I knew it there were too many flames to put out."

Ellie made a low whistling sound.

"Shit," she murmured.

You cleared your throat once more. "Shit indeed. So I don't really know how long I'll be here, but if there's room for me here in Jackson, I should probably make it a home for myself," you said despondently.

But you didn't want Jackson to be your new home. You wanted your burnt-down house in the woods back. You wondered if there was anything salvageable left, something to hike back for.

Shaking your head at your thoughts, you decided it best left alone. For now, at least, there was not much to do about it. You were in no condition to travel anywhere, you knew that, but you couldn't help but wonder whether anything was left or if all was reduced to ashes.

You would have liked to have brought some weed, perhaps some to plant, but despite your addiction, it had not been your priority then.

Now, it felt like a rookie mistake.

You sighed and stood up with a hearty breath. You ought to be grateful, you thought. If Joel hadn't left that map for you, you wouldn't have made it far, traveling on infection and faltering hope.

Ellie tried to comfort you. "They were eager to have us here, I'm sure they'll be fine making room for a plus-one."

You could only hope so.

Two weeks went by like a passing breeze. Besides eating and sleeping, you hadn't done much of anything, and as you slowly recuperated, you became restless—a result of feeling all the pain at once and then nothing at all.

The painkillers were addicting and you decided to stop taking them before rebranding a bad habit, leaving you to feel every ounce of physical pain.

Everything felt weird; not odd or mysterious, just plain old weird.

You came to learn that Ellie was much more timid than you had initially thought. She was prone to mood swings, which you supposed was normal for her age, but sometimes she would lash out at Joel, give him the cold shoulder as if she suddenly remembered she was mad at him.

However, Ellie's behavior was not the weirdest thing. No, what was weird was the way you got along with them so well. You couldn't find a single thing to complain about. It seemed as if the mere warmth in the home helped you thaw out of your cold exterior. It even made you believe you were not so bad in social settings after all, but when you suppressed your anxiety and finally worked up the courage to speak to someone, make a witty comment as had become part of your banter with Joel and Ellie, it wasn't well received. Perhaps it was a bad joke, wrong crowd, really—it could be any number of reasons, you rationalized. Regardless of the failed interaction, you wouldn't shy away from one blow. After all, you never managed to hone the ability to back down from a fight.

At one point, Ellie observed yet another interaction with your designated victims, a couple of women in the fruit stall. She ditched her friend to rescue you from the sorry situation and decided to help you out.

Looking back, that was probably the catalyst for the rapid bonding process that ensued.

“Start small,” was her first piece of advice. That day, the two of you went to have lunch at the dining hall. You stood in line with your trays, waiting to be served. Ellie beamed up at the cook who splashed soup into her bowl, and said: “hi!” She proceeded to nudge your arm, and you mimicked her reaction as if on command. The cook replied with a curious gaze and a smile and the interaction ended as quickly as it had begun.

It was small, next to nothing, just greeting a person but you felt an immediate flutter in your stomach, like the butterflies applauded your courage with their tickling wings.

It was a win.

Ellie would sometimes come into your room throw herself on your bed and chat you up, before perching her head atop her knuckles to direct her attention to you. After some time you caught on to her pattern, realizing that she made an effort to make you feel comfortable with her, each time as if she had yet to gain your trust, before beginning what might as well be called “lessons”.

Joel sat quietly on the sidelines but he absolutely adored seeing you and Ellie form this sweet bond. He could tell you took Ellie seriously and viewed her as a teacher as she helped you polish your social skills. One night, when Joel got back from patrol, he walked in on you taking notes as Ellie named people she thought might be a good match for you to take your newfound skillset to the next level. Coming back from a rough shift, whatever strain he may have experienced outside of Jackson's walls smoldered, his brow decreasing and his shoulders tensed no longer. Joel thought it was one of the most pure things he had ever witnessed.

Joel and Ellie offered you food and a bed to sleep in; you acted like a family, you looked like a family. It had been a long time since anybody had given you anything without expecting something in return. You had almost forgotten it was possible to live with people without some kind of transaction taking place.

It was weird.

Or perhaps it was nostalgia. The dining room setting with food on the table and a group of people you cared about in one way or another; the evenings spent in the living room, playing cards or a board game. Revisiting these scenarios in your mind in the quiet of the night, you thought you looked like a family.

…

Joel was typically out on patrol around 8 am, so you were surprised to see him sitting at the kitchen table when you finally woke the next morning.

“Mornin’,” he chipped, a sleepy smile tugging the corners of his lips upward.

You returned the smile. “Good morning, Joel. No patrol today?”

He couldn't decide whether he hated or loved it when you would speak his name, something he hadn't felt in so many years it felt unfamiliar.

Joel shook his head, wiping his hand on a dirty cloth, and drank from his mug. “No. I'm supposed to go on a supply run today. If you want you can come with me?"

Alone time with Joel. The proposition ignited something that had become a little too familiar to you lately. Fantasies of laying in a luxurious king-size with Joel brewed in your mind as you poured black coffee into your own mug.

"I thought you were assigned partners for that kind of thing. Refill?"

Joel held out his cup and you poured him some more.

He chuckled. "Yeah, Tommy's been tryna set me up with a couple, but he says I chase 'em away." He sips his coffee. "So f'ya want, I'm free for the takin'. Besides—I'd rather go with someone I know." Someone I'm comfortable with, was implied.

You put back the kettle and leaned against the counter, hugging your arm around yourself.

Perhaps you could use it as an opportunity to tell him why you actually came to Jackson. Although it didn't specifically affect him, it felt wrong to keep him in the dark.

You began wondering how to explain yourself, began wondering why you hadn't simply told him from the get-go. Your home burning down wouldn't change a thing for him.

It hardly mattered now.

“Okay,” you agreed. It would be fun. Just like when you went hunting together. “I'll come with you.”

…

Joel gave you an hour to shower and get ready. You felt yourself getting both nervous and excited to spend some time with him, giddy by all means, and you hated how you caught yourself looking in the mirror one too many times before stepping out. You had never been so vain as you had become over the last month and you suspected it was due to Joel's presence.

It was only a matter of time before you had to admit you had come to develop the fattest crush on him. You supposed it wasn't that odd. He was good-looking and kind and funny and not that much older than you—either way, age difference didn't appear to be the people in Jackson's biggest concern.

Regardless, you decided to suppress whatever feelings you may or may not have for Joel.

Really, it was inevitable. You hadn't seen a man in so long that you barely remembered what they looked like, what they sounded like. Joel's voice was deep and alluring, something you imagined the women in Jackson went crazy over. You couldn't be the only one, that was for certain.

When you had washed up and pulled into enough clothes to keep you warm for the weather, you met Joel in the kitchen where he was scribbling a note, presumably for Ellie, and then headed off to the stalls.

It was around 10 o'clock and the street was bustling. People worked on just about every corner, whether it was chopping wood, selling vegetables, loading horses, or painting their house exterior—they were all busy.

“So where're we going?”

“West o’ here, a camp that's been abandoned recently. They must've left in a hurry 'cause it's stocked with all kinds of goods.”

An abandoned camp. You had read enough horror stories to doubt anything was ever truly abandoned. It made you nervous.

“You've been there before?”

“No,” Joel responded and when he looked at you he understood immediately. “Tommy has, though. Says they've been lootin’ there a couple o’ times now with no trouble. No sign of anyone.” His words did little to make you less ill at ease. But then he added: “I wouldn't take you there if I thought it might be dangerous.”

The warmth that crawled from your chest and up to your neck and cheeks overpowered your worries and you forgot they had ever been there in the first place.

By the time you stepped into the stables, the heavy odor of manure and hay punched the air out of your lungs, the stench so unbearable you didn't care to inhale just yet.

Joel didn't seem fazed. “We need two horses!” he called out.

You looked to where his eyes were fixed and noticed a man hunched over a workbench, his dirty beige overalls providing convincing camouflage.

The man looked up from where he was standing. His face was as dirty as his clothes, hiding freckles and sealing the smiling wrinkles by his eyes.

He started walking closer and you instinctively stepped back, your hand unclenching by the holster at your side. You had opted for guns today, as the weight of your sword would be too much of a strain on your injury.

The man wiped his hand with an equally dirty cloth and held it out with a big smile. “I'm Danny. You must be the newcomer.”

You didn't shake his hand but replied with your name, curtly, undoubtedly coming off rude. You didn't care.

His smile faltered but he quickly put on a new one to mask his discomfort. “It's good to meet you. Y'all going on a supply run?”

“Yeah,” Joel replied, and as you looked at him again, you thought he didn't like the man either.

While the man went to retrieve the horses, you became distracted by one. A chocolate brown mare, with a white stripe drizzling down its muzzle. You didn't have to stare at it for much longer before you realized it.

It was your old horse, Wilma.

When you approached her stall, she nodded her head and you imagined she greeted you after all those years. You had once heard horses had an incredible memory and were able to recognize their owners. There was no doubt in your mind she remembered you as she enthusiastically bobbed her head up and down, her feet getting restless.

“Ma'am!” Danny called out, trudging up to where you stood by her enclosure. “I wouldn't get too close. She ain't too fond of strangers.”

You ran your hand down the white stripe on Wilma's head and she leaned into your touch. You had never been much fond of horses until you met her. Once a little speck of sweet life in a barren land. You felt a pang of guilt as you recalled leaving her behind to fend for herself.

Danny sounded his curious disbelief. “Huh. She won't even let me handle her like that.”

“She probably ain't very fond of you then,” you chirped.

Danny looked defeated, puzzled, and intrigued at the same time.

You looked at Joel who had been observing the interaction. “Joel, this is Wilma. She was my horse once.”

“I ‘spose she still is then. Ain't that right, Danny?”

Danny seemed to stiffen up as Joel addressed him, something resembling respect with a hint of fear in his attitude.

He shook his head. “No, yeah—yes, of course she is.” With that, he hurried off to fetch Joel a horse.

You eagerly let Wilma out and took a good look at her. She looked well-fed and clean, her hide beautiful as you remembered. She trusted you to inspect her hooves and they looked fairly new but filthy and you suspected she wasn't let out often.

You cleaned her hooves and saddled up and by then Joel was ready and waiting for you. You then left Jackson and headed west.

…

Clusters of rubble from the demolished town hall diverted the river, and it was beautiful. What you imagined had once been the bustling center of a small city was now thriving with wildlife and nature dripping out of the gaping windows. The river appeared to be the result of the destroyed levee further east, making water fill the underground tunnel and drainage system completely. Vegetation dressed the sign of the apocalypse, the bombing, romanticizing the world of destruction heavily.

"So how are you chasing your partners away?” you quizzed.

"Ellie says it's 'cause I'm a grump. I guess it can seem that way," Joel shrugged, watching his step for branches. "I just don't care talking to people I have nothin' in common with. Guess the lack of chitchat makes me seem grumpy and send 'em runnin'."

You silently nodded along as you led the way back to your horses. So far Joel had been right: There had been nothing to worry about. It was deserted and there were only ruins where a city had once stood, remains of the people who had lived in it.

"I don't think you're grumpy."

Joel didn't know how to respond. He hadn't per se avoided getting along with people, but he hadn't done much to integrate himself into the community, either.

Suddenly you stopped dead in your tracks, a gasp leaving your lips and Joel had pulled out his rifle on instinct in a split-second.

He couldn't make out where to aim though.

Although you would have reacted the same way, you laughed when you noticed and put your hand over the barrel of his gun. Joel shuddered as if it were him you touched.

“Relax, Joel. They're already extinct.”

The smile on your face was impossible to wipe off as you stepped over boulders and rubble to reach the rugged-looking building.

The giant monster with a broken neck gave away the source of your excitement, and Joel read aloud the sign as you got closer: “Walter W. Granger Center of Paleontology.”

He huffed.

“C'mon Joel! You never had a dinosaur obsession as a kid?”

“I don't remember ever bein’ a kid.”

You waited by the entrance, holding open the door with a shattered glass frame as if it would stop anyone from entering, but he nodded thankfully at the gesture as he caught up to you.

“We can't be long. It's gonna get dark soon.”

Ditching your loot at the entrance, you wandered mindlessly into the museum. You had stocked up on all that was needed. Medicine, canned food, batteries, and more. You had secretly been looking for anything to keep yourself entertained in your new home, books or games or anything that might make Jackson more comfortable to you, but with no luck. You supposed there might be a gift shop in here, but you didn't dare hope everything had not already been taken.

Skeletons of prehistoric wonders stole away your focus and you were glad to be here with Joel as he was always wary of his surroundings.

You felt comfortable with Joel and for more reasons than one.

Joel nudged your arm and pointed to a banner hanging from the ceiling, torn but readable.

“Look at that. We just missed the stegosaurus exhibit,” Joel sighed and when you looked back at him, he was already watching you, waiting for your reaction to his joke.

You rolled your eyes and walked on but Joel didn't miss the way your lips curled upward.

The supposed stegosaurus skeleton towered over you as you crept up onto the platform. You were amazed both by the fact that it was still intact after all these years of abandon and its sheer size. Walking under its frame, through its chest cavity, your fingers grazed its bones when Joel spoke your name and you directed your attention to him.

Your grin lingered only in wrinkles from your smiling when you saw his expression.

“Something wrong?”

Joel took a deep breath, stumbling over his words as he tried to find the right ones.

“Joel?” you pressed as you were getting nervous.

"Lookit, uh... Ellie told me—about your house.”

Oh.

On more than one occasion on this outing, you had been wanting to tell him. You certainly wanted to, but it had been difficult bringing it up, difficult to break the silence and whenever you were engaged in conversation, it slipped your mind.

Joel watched you closely and he convinced himself he had come to know you. He thought you looked sad. He wasn't sure whether it was because of your home burning down or because you hadn't told him and him bringing it up made you feel as if you had been lying to him. He certainly wasn't mad and he proved it by resting his hand on yours, his coarse thumb caressing your skin in comfort. Joel had lived long enough to know the difference between lying and not telling the truth.

“Why didn't you tell me?"

If only you had been truthful about it to begin with, you wouldn't have to stand there so awkwardly now, not knowing the answer to a simple question.

Your eyes flickered from the sandy patch beneath you to your hand—to his hand. It was much larger than yours, more rough but comforting in a way. As his thumb pressed on your skin, Joel's hand clutching yours—it felt like a hug; ensuring your safety with him. You felt safe.

“I don't know,” you finally sighed. “I don't know, Joel.”

Perhaps there was a part of you that wanted him to know you came to Jackson because of him—that you wanted to follow him and at the time you convinced yourself it was because you had no other choice. It was a lie, you knew that now. You had survived for so long on your own, found a house, and made it your own—there was no reason not to do it again, to start over.

Except for the reason in front of you, of course. This man, his charisma, something a natural-born leader possessed that made people inclined to follow them, Joel possessed that.

You weren't sure why a choked laugh escaped you but then you realized your vision had become blurry and a teardrop trickled down your cheek.

Joel whispered your name and you sniffled, inhaling shakily.

“M'sorry, Joel… I—I really don't know why I wasn't honest with you—maybe I was embarrassed. I've survived this long and I spend a couple of days with you guys around and suddenly I've lost all ability to take care of myself. Shit.” You laughed again, shaking your head, and walked out from under the skeletal reconstruction.

“There's nothing to be embarrassed about,” Joel did his best to assure you, stepping down as well. You already missed the warmth of his hand. “I'm sorry ‘bout your house, okay? But I hope you'll wanna stay in Jackson. I can tell Ellie likes havin’ you ‘ere. I know I do.”

That warmth returned to you, this time in your cheeks. You didn't do much to hide the blush. “Thank you, Joel.”

He nodded, the furrows still lingering on his forehead as he offered you a smile.

“C'mon. Let's go home.”

#theplumsoldier #joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou

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fosermi · 2 months

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The sun was going down and Eclipse was getting nervous.

He hated nighttime, nighttime meant nightmares, it meant visits from GUN in his dreams, going over old painful memories once again. He would thrash and cry out, trying to get away, but never could. He might have been free from them during the day, but they still owned his soul at night.

Eclipse wished he could just skip sleep altogether, but that was too difficult. His body required rest. And so, he suffered. He didn't want anyone else to know anyone else to worry about him. Wade was already so kind, already trying to help him out if someone yelled around him or spooked him.

And so Eclipse suffered in silence.

It was fine, with everything else going on, it wasn't that bad. There could be worse things.

But he still didn't enjoy it.

Eclipse watched and waited for the hedgehogs to go to bed and then Wade tucked him in. That was nice of the human. Sometimes, Eclipse would wake up and wanted comfort, but he wasn't sure if it was okay from Wade. He was still figuring this out.

And the only thing worse then a nightmare, was being told to go away in the middle of the night. The mere thought was so terrible, he hadn't tried it.

So he suffered in silence, even after Wade said goodnight, even though he wasn't asleep yet. Each day, he hoped that this night would be a peaceful one. And each night, his dreams were out to cause as much harm as they could, making him relive the worst moments of his life again and again.

That was the part he hated the most.

Then he heard Shadow calling for him and looked up.

Shadow was in his socks, standing in the doorway and looking at him, "do you want to stay in our room?'

Even after all this time, it was still a shock to see his twin so small. Eclipse remembered when they used to be the same size, running around, playing with each other. And their friend.... But now, he was huge and Shadow was small. So much had changed.

However he wanted that, wanted to be close by his brother. So he stood up, nodding and followed Shadow back.

The bedroom was small, comfortable. There were bunk beds and Shadow had the bottom one. "You can have my bed."

"But... what about you?"

The darker hedgehog only shrugged, "I'll be fine."

But it wasn't fine, this was his brother's room, his brother's bed. Eclipse couldn't just come in here and take over, push him out. That wasn't okay. "No, you stay too."

Frowning, Shadow asked, "with you?"

Eclipse nodded.

And then Silver leaned over the edge of his bed, "me too?"

There was a sigh, but Shadow nodded. And a few minutes later, the three of them were bundled up together on Shadow's bed. Silver had his plushie and Eclipse was snuggled up against his twin. It wasn't exactly like how it used to be, there was still someone missing. But it was almost as good.

For the first time in a long time, Eclipse felt warm and safe.

Even better, he was able to sleep peacefully through the night. No nightmares, no thrashing around.

He was safe.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMEEEEESSSSSSSSSS

AMES WTF

THIS IS SO??? WHOLESOME???

How dare you attack me with such hurt comfort the moment I land back home, prepare to get punted into next teuseday with art and angsty ideas then/lh

#forser talks #ames writes #the ARK brothers #shadow the hedgehog #eclipse the darkling #shadow and eclipse #wade whipple #silver the hedgehog #shadow whipple #silver whipple #eclipse whipple #this is an au of WFMA

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hearts401 · 1 year

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wait I forgor that the reason I was in your ask box was bc I wanted to say that your art is rlly cool and reminded me why I liked fnaf in the first place!! :]

(Also if you don't mind id love to hear some headcanons you have for the aftons ehe)

DSJDSFKJD TYYY OUHFUH Thats so sweet omg :(((

OOH BOY HEADCANONS FOR THE AFTONS (Not gonna include mrs.afton aside from vague mentions simply bc i dont care about the implied existence of a wife for william lmaoo)

Elizabeth

-8 years old

-audhd

-I am an intense ginger hair lizzie truther. SHE IS NOT BLONDE!!!! I REFUSE!!!

-She looooves circuses and would dress herself and her friends up as clowns a lot. her love for makeup sparked it and then it went on from there

-music stims galore!! humming, patting her legs, bouncing to the sound of music

-likes first person shooters!! not an a "cute girl likes edgy games" way but in the way that she genuinely enjoys them! shed rlly love shooting games. shed also likes games liek stardew and animal crossing bc shed like getting to know the villagers. (ik these games dont fit the timeline of the 80's but whatever idc) she'd like those gun games at amusement parks too

-lots of energy!!! you cannot stop her!!!!!

-her fav ice cream is mint chocolate chip

-shes not close with her brothers, much closer with her father. because of her fathers distance, however, this results in her feeling lonely a lot, but shes not willing to get involved in whatever her brothers are doing

-LOVES SPRING!!! LOVES IT!!! ITS HER FAVORITE!!!

-really likes animals and especially colorful birds. she has a collection of many things, one of them being colorful and pretty feathers (she has a peacock feather and its her pride)

-really likes bunnies just like her dad!

-likes to braid hair and do makeup. she used to do it with michael whenever he let her. him cutting that off kinda fucked their relationshipt. (and ofc then came the bite)

-She has a very orange room. orange red and pink r her favorite colors.

-thinks her eyes are super pretty

-if she's curious about an item, she'll sniff it and inspect it and feel it but not put it in her mouth bc thats gross ><

-sleeps on her side like a normal person

-likes dolls n stuff :333

Evan

-10 years old

-anxiety and autism

-very good at sewing (bc michael would break his plushies a lot)

-never let lizzie do his makeup bc it overstimulated him

-anxious stims. hand shakes, biting his nails, wringing his hands, shifting side to side, ect.

-enjoys crocheting but almost never has yarn. lizzie gave him an unused yarn ball once and he used it to make a bunch of stuff

-very picky eater, but he wont say it out loud.

-likes webkinz

-HATES HORROR MOVIES!! like this is a given but he will stay up all night thinking about it. its the one thing he stands up for himself on is not being forced to wathc horror movies (mostly because its the only thing both william and lizzie will back him up on)

-he likes yellow a lot. his room isnt hyellow but he wishes it was.

-doesn't have friends and is regarded as weird, but kids avoid him for the most part. most of his bullying comes from ppl who know michael.

-hed like racing games a lot

-scared of his dad and by association he was scared of henry too

-not super close with charlie but he knows her to be a good person. wishes he was closer with her

-ofc easily startled, freaked out, and made uncomfortable

-does NOT like being talked over

-gets frustrated rlly easily and often rants to his fredbear plush

-liked to draw!! he picked it up from mike when he was younger and continues to do it as an outlet

-wishes he had a bigger family

-definitely not flexible at all, but doesnt hurt himself much (hes not dumb, he learns what makes his bones break)

-will feel things over if hes curious about them. maybe sniff them too but he gets scared they'll kill him 😭

-dislikes amusement parks bc overstim but does enjoy the games and prizes

-he likes rice. idk. he just likes rice a lot.

-if he grew up, hed be taller than mike AND lizzie idc idc

-he tries his best to smile in family photos but he just looks so goddamn uncomfortable that eventually william just let him sit them out.

-definitely a peacemaker between lizzie amd mike

-if hes thinking hard he looks PISSED. RESTING BITCH FACE. He is GLARING AT HIS PLATE. "Evan? What's wrong?" and he just immediately is like 😠😯🙁

-he cares about michael a lot more than he should. he tells him to stop when hes fighting someone, he tries to calm him down when hes angry, he tries to talk to him. it makes him so frustrated, it makes him so mad when michael refuses him rudely, but he keeps doing it. its who he is.

-he got a golden freddy mask that creeped michael out and he jumpscared him with it once.

-cuts his own hair

-not a hugger but if EITHER of his siblings offer a hug he will NOT deny them (does not apply to william tho)

-i dont think he cared about william tbh lol

-sleeps on his back like a corpse.

Michael

-14

-audhd

-nonbinary he/they but doesnt realize it til hes 18

-gets mad when overstimulated

-Likes pirates a lot, watches lots of pirate shows.

-INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA it kicked in in like 2nd grade when someone made fun of him for letting lizzie do his makeup. (jeremy helps him get over it)

-forgets to eat a lot. not intentionally. hes just dumb.

-argues with his dad the most, and drives william nuts

-if hes curious about something, hes gonna bite it. what is it? idk. CHOMP

-loves skirts bc sensory issues are worse in his ankles. he compromises by wearing basketball shorts.

-canNOT wear things near his neck. hates things near his neck.

-close-ish with charlie. likes talking to her.

-favorite color is red. he puts it everywhere.

-likes pokemon.

-watches anime

-BIG HORROR FAN BUT THAT SHIT KEEPS HIM UP AT NIIIIGHT

-halloween is his fav holiday. ud think its bc he liked scaring evan (and it kinda is) but mostly he jsut likes dressing up and going trick or treating. he'll use his costume to scare evan later tho. william takes them away because of that, just bc he doesnt want michael ruining the costume (they reuse them sometimes)

-likes growing his hair out

-looks very soft when thinking. evan only talks to him when he looks calm and collected.

-stims by humming, tapping, slamming his fists, and making loud sounds (shouting, whining, UGH AAAGH ect.) which tend to overstimulate evan

-him and evan are adhd vs autism but if the adhd also had autism

-scared of the ocean but he'll never admit it (got bit by some small fish once and it freaked him out)

-mouth moves faster than his brain

-NOT A MORNING PERSON (except on halloween) DO NOT TALK TO HIM IN THE MORNING!!! HE BITES!!!

-messy room with very little in it.

-punches holes in his walls as a stim :(

-likes sweaters in fall

-for someone who jumpscares his little brother, he gets jumpscared easily

-giggles a lot during hide and seek but thru hiding from evan he learned how to stop it. if he does giggle it means hes genuinely happy

-faints when SUPER freaked out. but it takes a lot

-probably gets queasy around blood

-lactose intolerant but he'll be damned if he doesnt eat that mac n cheese

-has SO MUCH FOXY MERCH. he convinces his dad to give him EVERYTHING HE LOVES FOXY SO MUCH

-would do awesome in school if he could get himself to try

-probably felt rlly hurt when he heard foxy was confined to a small area and not onstage. not because it mattered to him, but because the way william looks at foxy makes him think of the way he looks at him.

-gators r his second fav animal

-draws as a way of venting, but it rarely works. he likes it tho

-SINGS ALL THE TIME. WALKS INTO THE HOUSE DANCING AND SINGING AND TAPPING THINGS

-moves in his sleep

-TIGHT HUGS.

-AFFECTIONATE SHOULDER PUNCH GO!!!

-AGGRESSIVE SHOULDER PUNCH GO!!!

-NEUTRAL "I'm uncomfortable and idk what to do rn" SHOULDER PUNCH GO!!!

-giggles evilly

-like evan hes not very flexible but hes much more likely to hurt himsel fand sprains his ankles a lot

William

-Do not misspell his last name he will get unbelievably pissed

-probably nd too bc all his kids are but he doesnt gaf abt that 😭

-has kissed a man before as an experiment. did not get anything from it unfortunately

-met henry in college for robotics and became friends

-when his wife left/died he was just like "oh. i have three kids now. fuck." and then avoided them

-doesnt care about his kids but them dying causes problems for him so he tries his best to keep them alive (unsuccessfully. this is the afton family after all)

-just like mike, he sings and taps a lot, but its more humming and tapping.

-also lactose intolerant but he actually cares about it

-likes bunnies a lot.

-allergic to pollen. severely. he walks outside in spring and is already sneezing and rubbing his eyes

-Frustrated easily

-Looks pissed when hes not, looks pissed when he is. looks pissed when hes sad. looks pissed when hes thinking. the only time he doesnt looks pissed is when he looks happy and that is very rare (and never happens around his kids, only henry)

-TIGHT HUGS.

-Buys his kids gifts but its always stuff they either dont like anymore or didnt like int he first place. he doesnt care

-secretly likes thanksgiving a lot. hes a foodie what can i say

-lizzie is his favorite but that only means he is occasionally gentle with her in a way he'll never be with his sons

-likes dressing up fancy but als freaky he just likes dressing up

-poses in the mirror to check his outfit. michael walked in on him once and william has never yelled at him so muhc in his life. michael acted upset but he was giggling to himself

-does not and will never care about whatever michael and evan have goin on. he does NOT have time for them.

-drops and breaks his phone ALL THE TIME.

-likes stress balls a lot.

-springbonnie is his BABY. he LOVES HER.

-grabs his kids by their heads a lot. like if michael is in his way he'll just put a hand on his head and move him off to the side. the only one he cant do it to is evan because he just moves out of the way

-has a bunch of tiny robots of his own. he likes to make silly bunny robots taht r tiny

-thinks hes smooth wiht flirting and could grab a girl (he cant henry knows he cant)

-sticks his tongue out like a cartoon character when hes thinking SUPER hard

-pats michael on the back a lot to lighten a tense situation but it just makes michael tense up and makes it worse

-giggles evilly

-used to be queasy with blood and spent an hour in front of a mirror post-killing charlie telling himself to man up and somehow that worked

-not a hugger. only hugs his kids in public to lighten the mood. except mike. mike u get awkward back pats

-doesnt like being touched (he WILL smack your hand)

I THINK THATS ALL LMAOOO I HAVE SO MANY

#these are #super specific #sorry #whoops #super long post 😭#tzu asks #the afton family #headcanons #tzu rambles #afton family hcs

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noblest-roman-of-them-all · 1 year

Text

G'night, Patt.

Guess what it is, it's another prompt from @sleepyvirgilprompts. Listen, these prompts have been getting me through an otherwise dry spell. They're a lot of fun and give me a break from the continuity of my AUs while also stretching me as a writer, so you'll be getting a few more of these down the road.

Virgil was awake before be he really realized it. He stayed still a moment under the warmth of his blanket before the tingling sensation in the back of his head pulled him fully from sleep to consciousness.

He stretched under the blanket in a way that no doubt would have gotten him teased for being cat like and reached for his phone on the night stand.

2:48 AM

He groaned and dropped his head back on his pillow. He didn't want to get up, if he was being honest. He'd much rather stay in his own cozy bed and go back to sleep in blissful ignorance like everyone else got to do.

But everyone else wasn't their fight or flight response and, unfortunately for Virgil, the brain couldn't tell the difference between dream emotions and awake emotion.

And so Virgil pushed himself upright and sat for a moment on the edge of his bed, trying to focus on the tingling sensation he felt. He nodded to himself after a moment, peeled his weight blanket from the bed, and made for Patton's room.

He tapped lightly on the door, despite knowing full well the Embodiment of Morality was asleep, before slipping into the room and closing the door silently behind him.

"It's alright, P," he whispered before gently draping his blanket over a trembling and mumbling Patton. "It's okay, Popstar, I gotcha." He sat on the edge of Patton bed and gently massaged the back of Patton’s neck.

Patton whined and pressed his face deeper into his pillow.

"I know," Virgil soothed. "I know, but it's gonna make it worse if I wake you up. Just breathe, Patt, you got this. Just like I showed you, in through the nose out through the mouth, you can do it." He sat at Patton's side whispering words of safety and encouragement and massaging his neck and shoulders till the episode seemed to pass and Patton’s breathing leveled out again.

"See? Told ya you could do it. Proud of you, P." He tucked one of Patton's plushie under his arm and Patton grabbed his hand as he pulled away. "Hey," Virgil knelt to be closer to eye level with him. "Didn't mean to wake you. You good?"

Patton nodded, his eyes glassy. "Thanks for takin' care of me, k-" His voice hitched suddenly. "Virgil."

"You're welcome, P. You want me to stay?"

"You don't have to," Patton shook his head.

"But do you want me to stay?"

Patton nodded. "I don't wanna be alone."

"Alright. Scooch over." Virgil waved his hands and Patton did as he was told, making room for Virgil, who laid down beside him. "Alright, now come here." He drew Patton in close, so that his head was nestled against Virgil's side.

"I'm sorry, Virgil," Patton whispered after a moment.

"I know," Virgil answered. "I'm not-" he sighed. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm not...thrilled about what's been going on, but I'm not mad at you, okay? There's a lot more to it than can be addressed in a-" he checked his phone "-3:12 am conversation and it's not something I feel up to anyway. But I'm not mad at you."

Patton nodded and tried to get himself to belive it. "Thanks, Virgil," he replied, the stiffness in his voice betraying him.

Virgil sighed. "Look. I don't...necessarily mind the nicknames. Just. They make me feel weird sometimes 'cause...it's hard to explain. I can't be soft, P. Not all the time. I have to be able to get Thomas's attention sometimes and- Y'remember when...I tried ducking out, and pulling away from Thomas completely?"

Patton nodded into his shoulder.

"Thomas said I was like an alarm clock, right? That's a lot more accurate than he knew. I don't just set off the alarm for external things though, and yeah, sometimes I jump the gun a little on this things, but I'm also the alarm for internal things, subconscious things. That's why I showed up when Logan and Roman started arguing. Because there was a problem, I couldn't name it, but I knew it was there. And you helped us get there, Patton, you helped Thomas get there. But I have to be able to sound those alarms. And it's hard to sound them, when you treat me like I'm...not who I am. I've changed a lot, P, but I am not some angel. I know- I know you mean well, and you're trying to be supportive and make me feel welcome because you don't want me pullin' another ducking out stunt and while I appreciate that sentiment, I have to be allowed to be scary."

"I guess I hadn't really thought about it that way," Patton replied.

"Well, yeah, P, it's not your job. That's why I don't really hold it against you. You're trying to do you're job and I'm trying to do mine. And sure our goal is to help Thomas, but he's human. He's got internal conflict just like any other human. That doesn't make us not friends anymore. Cause we still are. At least as far as I'm concerned."

"Thank you. It really means a lot to hear you say that. And I am trying, Virge, I really am."

"I know, Patt, we all are. But change and growth are hard. They're uncomfortable. And Thomas is really working on those things right now and that's gonna have a direct affect on all of us. It's gonna make things weird and a little hard for a while. But we're gonna be okay. All of us are gonna be okay. But so are you and I. We're still friends, even friends have their spats, okay? Friendship is like any other kind of relationship, it's not gonna be perfect and there are gonna be disagreements and arguments. But we're gonna get through them. Just, y'know, maybe not all tonight cause it's now even later and I'm gonna accidentally wake Thomas up if we get into all of that. So before we go to sleep, three things okay? One: we are still friends. Two: I'm not happy about a lotta things, but I am not angry at you. Three: I love you, Patton."

"Love you too, Virgil. Thank you for telling me all of this. I'll do my best to work on it."

"I know you will. But for now, let's just go to sleep."

Patton nodded and nestled a little closer to Virgil. "Night, kiddo. Love you too."

Virgil smiled and hugged him tightly. "G'night, Patt. Sweet dreams."

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #platonic moxiety #my writing

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thehighladywrites · 9 months

Note

What's set as your phone's lockscreen?

Cheese or chocolate?

Do you have any nicknames?

Last song you listened to?

Have you ever written fanfiction?

Are you on discord?

Do you have any piercings?

 What do you think says the most about a person?

If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

Headphones or earbuds?

What's the last thing you said out loud?

What's a weird fact that you know?

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

Favorite place to nap?

Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

Describe yourself in three words.

Jeans or sweatpants?

What's your go-to Starbucks order?

A color you can't stand?

What's your most prized possession?

Coffee or tea?

Favorite extinct animal?

How long have you been on tumblr?

Desert island item?

Describe your aesthetic.

What's your dream job?

Relationship status?

Describe your favorite outfit.

Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

What color is your hair?

Do you talk to yourself?

Do you wear makeup?

Best compliment you ever received?

@ your favorite blog.

ohhh anon ngl this was super fun to answer, thanks for sending it to me 💜

I have a light pink basic wallpaper, nothing fancy

Chocolate, always

My friends and siblings call me Ama, amara or mara, i’m also called aisha, which is my middle name💗

Teacher’s pet bc i’m trying to get into the mood when writing professor Eris pt 3💀🤤

Yess, this is the blog I write fanfics on!!

Nope!!

I have my nips pierced, I have three piercings in each ear and a nose stud. Bro when I tell you I almost passed tf out?? I hate needles but like i love to look cunty🤷🏽‍♀️

I honestly don’t know, maybe my kindness? I’m empathetic and very emotional. The thought of making someone sad or making them feel bad makes me feel physically ill.

An oreo, basic but delicious

Cat person for sureeee, i think dogs are cute but i prefer kitties

Headphones for sure, I never leave my house without them. I really recommend them too, they’re called skullcandy hesh evo and have amazing noise cancellation

I said fuck out loud

Did you know that goats have accents? Yeah, a goat from europe won’t understand a goat from asia. My grandmother owns goats and she let me know. At first I thought she was fucking with me but it’s true.

A night owl through and through, I sleep during the days and im awake during the nights

My bed for sure, it’s so comfortable bc i have the softest blankets and a massive comforter. My mattress is super plushy and it feels like sleeping on a cloud.

I think i’m bi with a preference for women

funny as fuck, introverted, anxious

Sweatpants at home, jeans outside

I don’t drink starbucks

obnoxiously bright and strong colors

Neither, I like super sweet drinks, but gun to my head the probs coffee.

Dinosaurs, love those lil fuckers

I’ve had this blog for almost 3 months but I had my old account for about 1 year.

If i could bring one item to a deserted island, i’d bring a sharp knife.

I think hyperfeminine and dark academia. My room is super cute in my opinion and it’s a mix between pink and dark colors. My outfit inspos are rachel green, monica geller and jasmine tookes.

My dream job is being a housewife and i’m so serious. I’m not made to sit in an office or work long hours. I just wanna stay at home, bake, look cute, make a house into a home and just exist. Is it really that hard 😩

I’m happily married to my hot wife @rowaelinsdaughter i love her SO MUCH🫶🏽

My fav outfit that I repeat is this one huge white sweater paired with my black pants, I pair it with black boots and a black long coat with a scarf from acne studios

anything chase atlantic, the nbhd, ldr, melanie martinez, burna boy ik the lyrics to hella songs but by fav is probably show me how by men i trust or art deco by ldr

My hair is black, jet black

yes, I talk to myself all the time…

Yes, I wear make up all the time I love it!!

That I have a nice vibe and energy. And I was once told by my sister that i’m the one she calls first for everything bc i’m the one she wants hearing good news first. She said she trusts me the most and i nearly cried😭😭😭

Here are my fav blogs -> !!!!

#talkswithamara #anon ask #anon💕#get to know me #ask game

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refried-ghost · 1 year

Text

Red kissed him. It really wasn't the best time for this but Purple didn't stop him. He was quick to pin him against himself removing a hand from his laser spear to do so.

Red had jumped on him. Would have knocked him over if Purple's feet weren't firmly planet on the dirt. Purple's eyes were open looking over to his fallen foe.

Red deepened the kiss, not allowing him to catch a breath.

Purple peeled him off, setting him back down. Red bit his lip as they pulled apart, earning a merp from Purple.

His face was hot. Breaths short. Lip with a growing bruise. He shielded it with the back of his free hand.

Red's attention turn away from him as suddenly as it was on him. Rushing to stab the likely corpse on the ground. Scanned the area for more enemies.

"We need to move," he said it clearly, head angling slightly towards him gaze nowhere near him.

Purple cleared his throat with a nod. A ting of embarrassment as he realized Red probably wasn't looking at him.

"Yeah."

(this one is just long and here's where I start going completely off topic)

Purple was a creature of comfort. Easily swayed with food and sex. Almost always open to Red's wandering hands. Lighting up when Red gave him his snacks. Beyond touched when Red went out of his way to actually make him something to eat.

He was an adrenaline junkie too, just in a different sort of way to Red. Where Red would push his ships to their top speeds, Purple enjoyed fights. Not really gun fights, taking cover and trading rounds, but more involved fights. Taking down things over twice his size fully intent on killing him. The particular rush he got from something close enough to actually touch him.

He was prone to getting ship sick at high speeds. Red teased him for it endlessly. Where Purple spent his down time split between eating, training and maintaining his weapons, Red would work on his ship. Constantly upgrading and maintaining it. He took over the maintenance on Purple's too when it wasn't digitized. Grease caked his maintenance suit. Drinking his meals, so he wouldn't have to change gloves as he worked.

It was the biggest down side of being Tallest. Not getting to take spur of the moment joy rides. The uncomfortable feeling coming off everyone as he maintained his unused ship in the elite bay. The entourage that had to accompany him to 'more dangerous areas'. A drone nervously standing by ready to remove any grease from him. Only being allowed to remove his gauntlets as he worked. His prosthetic thumbs always feeling too big and foreign for the task at hand.

Purple's weapons remained on display in his room yet another reason only he and Red had access. He'd still maintain them just as obsessively as he used to. He'd collect more as well. Getting his hands on prototypes he was really excited about. Always hand delivered by three people at once the Enforcer Captain, the Second in Command of the Tallest's Guard and someone else randomly assigned from from the Guard. He had to plan in advance to go to the firing range.

Various stuffed food themed plushies, pillows and blankets littered his room's floor and bed. As well as snack wrappers. His elite uniform was on a display wrack constantly getting moved around as it became harder to find footing until Purple would finally break and clean everything all up. He had a giant gel seat similar to a bean bag that would slightly envelop a person as they laid back on it. As well as a fancy circle chair he'd curl up in to sleep on occasion. Full of soft bedding hiding him away from the world. Various different outfits Red insisted he looked in good littered the floor as well. If they began to stink he'd tossed them down the laundry chute. He'd wear the clean ones on occasion striking poses, deciding whether or not to surprise Red. He'd be forced back into that stupid armor far too soon.

The armor displays were in the main chamber, two on each side of the main door. Often a high level drone would slip into inspect them for damages.

Red's room was meticulously cleaned and sorted by the same drones that would clean the main chamber. He may leave it a mess, but always expected it to be spotless when got back. If Purple was in there, kicking his legs on the bed, he'd allow expections. But he'd rip into irken if he was littering too many crumbs and snack wrappers around. Purple would point out he did the same thing. Red would claim it wasn't the same since Purple actively dissuading the drones from cleaning.

Red's display walls didn't have the vibrant serene landscapes, videos of extinct fauna, the training drills, weapons from both in and out of the empire, foods being prepared, and updated medical showcases that Purple's did. His showed the technical marvels of the empire, filtered through blueprints of all different types of ships, every star map on record, sometimes just what was outside the massive, the distance stars slowly wandering passing, the various armada ship in toe or zipping by, cargo ships being boarded as people bought things off them during rest periods. It'd display shop feeds, people quietly going about their days, teleporters zapping supplies off into the nether, and showcased the lastest fashions and trends on Irk, Conventia and other select planets across the galaxies both in and out of the empire.

He had a cabinet full of cards containing digitized ships. His old ones, Purple's as well, loving kept on display. His co-Tallest cared little about keeping them when the ascended. The ones he collected after were filling the drawers. He'd finger through them seeing which caught his interest and pluck them up going to the rec room. He could just have the computer bring up a particular ship to simulate in the chamber, but there was always something just slightly off when he did that. He liked the feel of the cards clicking into the chamber ports. Like how everything was always how he'd last left it. How it replicate the quirks he was familiar with from each individual ship. But still the simulated joy rides just weren't the same. He may be pinned back to his chair by the fake force, but it didn't replicate that rush. So he'd just cruise. Sometimes through crowd areas seamlessly dodging obstacles. Sometimes with his feet on the dash as he watched fake stars float by.

He had two closets. Purple only had one, perpetually open since he had junk blocking it from sinking back into the wall. Red closets were always full. He'd have the same drones that checked their armor go through his wardrobe with him on a regular basis. The Seamster Drones would often work with Red to make new designs. He'd stand in place as they fitted him and make his opinions known. The one's who'd worked with him the longest were quick to argue against any ideas they thought weren't that great. Especially after he rewatched Great Assigning and chewed them out for letting him have that armor made. He was still livid he'd thought that was a good idea. The newer ones were terrified for them.

He had a work table against one of his walls. Various tools displayed behind a panel of glass solely so only he or Purple could access them. The Computer required it. Purple weapons didn't have the same requirement, but they were the one thing he was good at keeping neat and orderly. Many were in his weapons cabinet secured. His favorites just hung on the wall. Apparently he was allowed to do that cause he was so anal about no one ever going in there.

When Red worked on small projects, he wasn't the inventor Zim was, he wired himself into the ship so he didn't have to bother naming each tool he needed. The Computer would place the desired object in his out stretched hand without a word.

Excluding those things his room was rather empty aside from the object Purple decided would be housed there. A handful of ship themed plushies. A far too fluffy, but thoroughly worn blanket. Red's old weapons Purple demanded to have when he said he'd relinquish. Also placed behind a glass panel. Purple personalized them for Red, like he did with all his weapons, painting them with a custom coating, somehow altering the blaster colors. Purple's own were messy in their customizations, but they were also endless being modified. The ones he'd done for Red were pristine and neat. Lovingly crafted. He thought they'd bring up the same sick feeling looking at his elite uniform had, before he had it tossed. But instead they made him incredibly flustered. They showed how much Purple cared. They twinged him with with guilt.

There was a large Vortian couch that could face either deeper into the chamber or towards the door. Purple liked the former, the Computer defaulted it to the latter. The table infront of Purple's prefer direction was always up. One would emerged from the floor on the other side if needed. The couch lined up to their doors Red's on the left and Purple's on the right. On the wall next to it was a snack dispenser. The wall next to Red's had a small kitchen. It wasn't often used. It emerged from the floor when needed. A large display screen hung over the couch, descend to whichever side. Then were the Rec Room door on the left and the bathroom in the right. At the end of the chamber was a massive canopy bed. Purple's idea. Next to it on both sides were the escape pod hatches.

The bathroom shared a door with Purple's room. The first thing he'd do after waking up was chug the drink on his nightstand and drag himself into the bathroom. As gross as Red may claim him was pretty obsessive about his personal hygiene. Not so much his spaces but definitely his own. In the vanity he'd groom his teeth, antenna and claws. Allowing wires and cable to descend and attach to run a check on his PAK. He'd check for new growths or stuck shed or ingrown fluff. If he found stuck shed he pry it off. It wasn't recommended for most be he had the training for it. Checking the fluff was a pain since in only grew in weird spots. The elbows, wrists, knees, ankles and another spot. Most of the time he'd gel the fluff on his elbows down since Red was adamant it was unseemly to go into public showing it off. It matched their skin, noone would see it. But it's what Red wanted.

If it was time for regular maintenance he go to the PAK maintenance station in the bathroom. Red would have everything done by a PAK technician, even the basics. Purple requested the encoding when he was still an elite. Back then he was only allowed access to some of it. More then most elites, because of his height, his adamance, and his scores, but still wasn't enough. When Red started taking his work Purple rekindled his studies. He did all his own maintenance, mostly in the bathroom. Some in the technician labs with someone supervising as he used the more complex machines. He modified his PAK legs adding any and all attachments that he thought could be useful in a pinch. The same tech silently approving them or quietly point out how batshit an idea he had was and barring it.

There were two shower. One above the giant inground jacuzzi tub, covered by floor panels when not in use. Neither were very visible. And the other near the full body drier and sanitation unit. It was fixed in place too large and complex to be hidden like most things. The unit had a seat in it, but standing was also an option. In sanitation mode would burn off any foreign matter, typically burn away shed, then douse the irken in cleansing chalk to eat any left over carbon mixture. It'd puff at them to remove any excess chalk. Ending with a mist of sanitizer.

Purple preferred the bath and showers. He hated flash of heat and cleansing chalk. He mostly used the drying function setting it to a comfortable temperature even if it made the duration longer. He knew the dangers of sanitizer over use. The dry, cracking skin and open wounds it'd leave. The lowering of the immune system response on top of what PAKs inherently caused. It was a very dangerous thing to abuse and most hadn't a clue. He always manually set the mists.

The Rec Room was full of random shit. Most taken out to use. The main thing was Simulation chamber. It took up half the room. Infront of it were the dumby weapons rack full of every weapon type one could imagine. Typically only found in drill stations and arenas. But with a wider selection. There were various stacks of games infront of an already filled cabinet spilling over with all sorts crafting supplies. Both for the chamber and on individual used. Med drives mixed amongst them. Tubs full unopened of ship models. Mini game tables and extra supplies for them. They weren't typically used. The upper break room had better ones and more space.

Puppets really weren't that popular until they came into power. Still weren't really, but some people caught on. Red and Purple typically made their own. They were scattered on everything else. The Announcer gifted a couple top of the line ones. Basically characticturized versions of themselves. Realistic feeling skin. Intricately detailed eyes that showed the hexagonal pattern hidden in most implants if they caught the light just right. They could be used in a variety of ways. Like a marionette, like a hand puppet. A panel in the back of the head would open up to allow the hand in. Another would open up on one of hips to more easily maneuver them. The limbs had places for PAK legs to attach. They were really something. They sat mostly untouched far too nice to play with. Or they could just be posed. Limbs locking it position on the right setting.

#long post #very sorry if the readmore breaks #self notes #rapr #refriedrambles #refriedramblings #will break into two posts later

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refriedrambles · 1 year

Text

This is all the character stuff and room development from that one post with the Tallest kissing where I absoluted lost the focus. Probably should have just deleted the first part on the original post I didn't like it all that much, but I didn't think about it and it's difficult to copy large chunks of text on the app.

Just gonna put it here for easy access as I divide it up for my notes.

The armor displays were in the main chamber, two on each side of the main door. Often a high level drone would slip into inspect them for damages.

#refriedramblings #purple #red #self notes

0 notes

companionwolf · 2 years

Text

Regressuary fill #3

Prompt: Character B is so exhausted from work that they pass out on the couch. They wake up piled under stuffed animals and blankets, with Character A quietly playing in front of them

Fandom: XCOM 2; gen verse?

Rating: PG

Warnings: N/A

Central rises to consciousness slowly. The world is heavy, soft. He tries to sit up, finds himself pushing through layers of blanket to do so. It's warm here and he's comfortable...

He sinks back down, roaming hands meeting the plush forms of stuffed animals he recognizes as belonging to the Commander.

He remembers now, he fell asleep on the couch in their quarters. But the soft stuff is new. He glances over at the quiet sound of murmuring.

In front of him, talking under their breath to themselves, is the Commander, who's currently making two small bobble headed dog figures chase each other.

Central feels his insides go mushy. That's a pretty cute sight to wake up to. He closes his eyes, listens to their gentle playing for a while.

When he opens his eyes again, the Commander is re-enacting what he thinks might be a scene from a movie, with one figure held to the edge of the coffee table as if hanging off it, while another stands nearby and monologues dramatically but still very very quietly.

He yawns, they turn.

"Central!" Their voice is bright.

"Hi, kiddo," he says.

"You comfy?"

He nods. They beam at him. "Tucked you in," they say, looking proud. "Stuffie army there to make sure you sleep good. No bad dreams!"

"No bad dreams," he confirms, gingerly sitting up, picking up the few plushies that fall off the couch as he does. "You did a great job."

"You up now?"

"Yeah," he says, yawning again. "I'm up. You need something, kiddo?"

"Hungry!"

He stands up, tucks the plushies together under the blankets. The Commander stands up, toys forgotten as they come over to them and grab at his hands. "Snack!"

"OK, ok, we'll get a snack," he says.

Central takes one of the Commander's small hands in his own and gently leads them along out of their quarters down to the kitchen. They sit on the counter swinging their legs as he rummages through cabinets. "What do you wanna eat?"

"I want fruit gummy," they say.

"You know we don't have that," he answers. The Commander frowns.

"I miss…fruit gummy," they say. Their voice hitches a little. "I miss… Lotta stuffs. Do you miss lotta stuffs too?"

Central swallows hard, doesn't turn to face them when he says, "Yeah, kiddo. I do."

"I miss hot milk and chocolates and cartoons and the toy store and … and fruit gummy," the Commander goes on. "I miss my old plushies and toys. I miss my house. I miss my cat."

"I miss coffee shops," Central says. "Football, pizza and sci fi movies."

The Commander is quiet now, kicking back and forth and back and forth. "We're gonna take it all back," they say in a poor imitation of him.

He nods. "Yeah," he says. "We will."

And finally, there in the back of the shelves, a lone can of peaches. Central grabs it, pours them out into a bowl. "Best we've got," he says.

The Commander takes the fork he offers and happily eats, mumbling around the fruit a thank you. Central nods at them. "Wish we had something better," he says. "Kids like you need more than we have…"

"Dino nuggets and french fries," says the Commander. "And pizza too."

"And vegetables," says Central.

The Commander sticks their tongue out at them, shaking their head at him. "Ew, yucky, no," they say.

"They're important, Commander."

"They're bad!"

Central rolls his eyes, smiling. The Commander finishes their snack, hops off the counter and washes the bowl in the makeshift sink.

"Now what?" Central asks.

"I wanna go outside," they say. "Wanna look for bugs and stuff."

Central hesitates. They haven't let the Commander go off the ship since they got rescued. Call him selfish but he's scared to, even if he'd be there.

The Commander pouts at him; he sighs.

"Fine," he says, "but let me go get my gun. Can't go out without being ready. You go get dressed, okay?"

Soon enough they're going down the Avenger ramp, the Commander running ahead of him excitedly, a scarf billowing out behind them. Central trails behind, gun at the ready.

The Commander stops at the bottom of the ramp, turns and looks back at him. "I'm gonna find you a frog."

"What do I need a frog for?" he asks, smiling despite himself.

"To make you hoppy!"

Central snorts. "That was really bad," he says.

The Commander sticks their tongue out at him again as they hurry into the long grass, toward the shore of a small lake in the tall shadow of the ship. Central hangs behind them, watching as they splash through the mud and chase dragonflies.

When the sun is low, he calls out to them-- "Time to come inside."

The Commander trudges over, pouting. They're flecked with mud, and Central tuts at them; they giggle.

"Empty your pockets," he says.

They do, revealing a round brown croaking lump of a toad and some rocks. "Look," they say. "Frog."

"That's a toad," Central says.

"Aww, so not hoppy?"

"Very, but let's put this thing back in the water," he says. "It won't be …hoppy to be kidnapped. Isn't nice to do that."

The Commander goes quiet. "Yeah," they say finally, and return to the water's edge, letting the toad hop back into the muck. They rejoin Central and walk back to the ship.

On the ramp, they stop. "Got something for you," they say.

"Not another toad, is it?"

They hold out a lumpy vaguely heart shaped stone, smiling shyly. Central takes it, turns it over in his hands.

"Thank you, Commander," he says.

They nod at him enthusiastically. "I'm gonna find you more nice rocks," they say. "You deserve nice rocks.."

Central feels something fuzzy and warm in his chest. "Not sure I agree," he says, "but I appreciate the thought. C'mon now, let's go inside."

Eventually the Commander gets a bath while Central prepares dinner for them, and the two sit in the Commander's Quarters on the couch, eating in comfortable silence.

When they're done, Central takes the plates away and washes them. Then he stops by his own bed, picks up the small book hidden under his pillow.

By the time he comes back, the Commander has curled up in bed, clutching an armful of plushies. They stare up at him hopefully. "Story?"

He sits on the edge of the bed, looks thoughtfully at them for a bit. "I think I've got something for you," he says, and produces the book.

He opens to the first page, begins to read. Every so often he glances at the Commander, who looks sleepier and sleepier each time. Finally, when he's just beginning to wrap up, he looks over and sees they've fallen asleep completely.

Central pulls the covers up to their chin. "Goodnight, Commander," he whispers quietly, and as carefully and softly as he can, slips out the door.

#wolf barking #tailstrokes #hello commander #regressuary2023 #regressuary 2023 #Regressuary

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proudzukaangblog · 2 years

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storytime!

so right now, about ten minutes ago, i started feeding my cats.

i went to my room to feed Bean, my baby, and as i was walking out, i felt like looking back into my room, specifically, my bed.

so i did

My plushie, Michelle (purple cat, female) was staring at me. i froze

the eyes were looking at me, when it was facing my closet, which is away from me.

the eyes she was looking at me with looked like this:

(i spent two minutes frozen at this fuck life)

I shut the door quickly, holding the door nob and hyperventilating to try and prevent my already coming panic attack

i walked quickly to the living room towards the kitchen, to put the catfood away. my mom noticed and asked what was wrong

"The eyes came back"

she froze and looked at me "what?"

"the eyes, they came back"

I put the cat bowl away and turned to see her, standing behind me, worried. That's when the panic attack came and i started sobbing. i ran to her and sobbed in her chest

safe to say Michelle has been burned :]

oh! context for the eyes:

Maybe december of last year, i had a nightmare, my parents and I saw two sus people outside, one was tall, the other was short. My parents went out with their guns. i hid under their bed.

i heard two gunshots and the shorter man walked in, and bent down and looked at me from under the bed, looking at me with those eyes

the next night, i had a dream i was with my grandparents, who had passed away that year. i walked to the living room and watched tv. the tv glitched and the eyes appeared. i froze. i couldn't move or speak, no matter how hard i tried. the taller man started coming towards me. then i woke up. i was still paralyzed, sleep paralysis. the eyes started coming towards me, then they disappeared. i was able to move again. i told my mom.

#michelle has been burned #ngl it was funny #yeah so i am traumatized now #i dont wanna go back in there lmao

0 notes

delicrieux · 4 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on.

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish.

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands).

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding.

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.”

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all.

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t.

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world.

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about.

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease.

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do.

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind.

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.”

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused.

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves.

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop.

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening.

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

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usercelestial · 3 years

Text

In the early hours of the morning, while the golden sun streams through their apartment window, Mickey stirs at a knock on the door.

He shakes Ian, whose limbs are wrapped tight around him, his drool pooling on his chest. Ian grumbles something but doesn’t move.

“Someone’s at the door, shithead, go get it,” Mickey shakes him again.

Ian yawns and stretches his arms, laying flat on his back now, “Who the fuck is here this early?” Ian turns back to Mickey, smiling, “You know what day it is?”

Mickey scrunches his eyebrows, trying to remember, “Uh, shit, a Tuesday?” He searches his brain for the date but he doesn’t get very far before Ian jumps on him, pressing kisses to his face.

“It’s your birthday!” Ian says, far too loudly in Mickey’s opinion, in between kisses.

Oh.

Mickey knew Ian would want to celebrate. He’s been getting better at the whole self-love thing. Instead of sulking in their room, remembering all the times he was punished for his excitement until he figured out his existence isn’t something to celebrate, they would go out and get dinner and come home drunk on both alcohol and love. Though he can’t help but feel an ache in his chest for his forlorn upbringing.

“Christ. I forgot,” Mickey places his hands on Ian’s hips, “I’m getting old.”

Ian scoffs, “Don’t say that. You’re still in your twenties, doofus.”

Mickey rolls his eyes and pushes Ian off his lap, “Go get the door.”

Ian complies, leaving one last kiss on his cheek.

He overhears a soft conversation, hushed and excited.

He barely makes out what sounds like a woman’s voice paired with Ian’s. Mickey rubs his eyes, trying to rack his brain for any neighbor they might have pissed off last night who would come over to complain. He quickly throws on clothes and walks out to the living room to see Ian standing in the kitchen with Tami.

She makes eye contact with him, “Fucking finally.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘finally.’ It’s nine in the fucking morning.”

“For normal people with healthy sleep schedules, it’s late,” she cocks her hips out, “Came to drop off your present, asshole, say thank you.”

He punches her shoulder lightly, “Thanks, dick.”

She holds out a small box, wrapped neatly in green wrapping paper. He haphazardly rips it off and opens it.

There's an assortment of gifts. The first thing he pulls out is a Mickey Mouse plushie with a card taped to the front. The writing is messy, scribbled crayon, it reads:

“hapy birth day, uncle mickey

freddie.”

“Cool,” Mickey’s voice breaks, Tami and Ian snicker.

“Lip helped pick out the toy,” Tami adds.

“Fucker,” Mickey gently places the gift on the countertop.

He goes back in and grabs a package wrapped in plastic. He realizes it’s soap and shampoo, a certain kind he told Tami he wanted a while ago, “How the fuck did you remember this?”

Tami shrugs, “You’re my friend, stupid. There’s also a cookbook, Lip got that for both of you since Ian’s getting into growing his own food.”

Mickey grabs the book that’s sitting on the bottom of the box, glancing at it before tossing it to Ian, “Thank you,” he nods and before he realizes it, she’s hugging him and pulling away.

“Happy birthday, Mick. Love you guys,” Tami kisses Ian’s cheek, “I gotta go, see ya.”

“Bye, Tami,” Ian waves, turning back to Mickey, who’s still standing, staring at the gifts that Tami dropped off.

“Hey,” Ian says softly, rubbing his shoulders, “You good, baby?”

Mickey nods, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just-you know-”

Ian does know. Not only because Mickey told him how weird it is, how uncomfortable he gets when people do things like this for him-nice things-but also because Ian experiences it himself. Maybe not to the same degree as Mickey, but he’s seen the way Ian malfunctions when one of his friends gets him something nice. He knows he has the same sort of wary confusion when they get to have good things.

Mickey leans into Ian’s touch, “Wanna go back to sleep.”

Ian rests his chin in the crook of Mickey’s neck, turning his face to plant a kiss on his cheek, “We can do that, baby.”

They go back to sleep until one, Ian wakes him again gently, whispering in his ear that they have to get up because Kev and Vee need help in the Alibi.

“It’s my fucking birthday, they should helping me!” Mickey yelped as Ian poked his side.

“Come on. The minute they’re done, we’ll come back here and sleep to your heart's content.”

“So forever?” Mickey asked from underneath a pillow.

Ian made an alarmed sound from the back of his throat, Mickey threw a pillow at his head, “Not like that, asswipe. Just tired today.”

Ian nods, sympathetic despite Mickey’s attack, “I know, honey. I promised them we would both go. So get your birthday ass up.”

Mickey does in fact get his ass up. After thirty more minutes of complaining, they’re off to the Alibi.

Ian pulls up to the bar and parks right in front of the doors. Mickey’s about to get out when Ian grabs his arm, “Okay, cards on the table, we planned a surprise party for you.”

Mickey tilts in his head, perplexed by Ian’s definition of surprise, “I don’t think you know how surprises work, lover.”

Ian picks at the skin of his lip, his eyes narrowed at the hollow of Mickey’s throat, “I just know you don’t like surprises.”

Mickey sits back in his seat, watching as Ian nervously gnaws at his chapped lips. They’ve had this talk before, mainly about Mickey’s sleeping. Ian’s learned from experience after sleeping in the same bed with him for five plus years that no one should ever shake Mickey awake. Or yell to wake him up. Or sneak up on him. Mickey’s always been hyper aware of his surroundings, it was never something he concerned himself with, ignoring the panic that reached up his throat with surprises. Though recently, Ian told him he has symptoms of PTSD rather than just being cautious.

“Alright,” Mickey nods, “How many people?”

“Just my family. I called Mandy but-”

“She’s working, I know.”

“She said happy birthday. Kev and Vee obviously. Tami,” Ian squirms in his seat like he’s nervous.

“Right, well, can’t sit out here forever.”

The minute they step into the bar, everyone screams surprise.

Ian was right, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone had Mickey not known.

“Uncle Mickey!” Franny screams and hugs his legs, “I made you a card!” She presents a card covered in glitter, depicting two stick figures holding guns and bags of money.

For the second time today, Mickey has to stop himself from crying. Bending down to hug her, he pats her hair and tells her he loves it.

“Uncle Ian helped!”

“Did he now?” Mickey raises an eyebrow at his husband, who nods proudly at his niece.

“Happy birthday, Mick!” Tami calls out, rocking Freddie in her arms.

Mickey nods and immediately gravitates to the bar, sitting down next to Lip, who’s playing with Freddie’s fingers.

Kev sets down a beer, “On the house for family, dude.”

Mickey takes it, trying not to show his unease, he grumbles, “Thanks,” before turning his attention to Ian who’s bending down and talking to Franny and Liam.

“Hey, Mickey,” Lip greets, distracted.

“Yo,” Mickey’s about ready to comfortably sit in silence, just enjoying watching on the outskirts as his in-laws mingle.

“Ian tell you about the party?” Lip asks nonchalantly.

“Uh, yeah. Right before.”

“Knew he would. While we were fucking putting it together, he-”

“Wait, hold on,” Mickey interrupted him, “You helped plan this shit?”

Lip deadpans, “Uh, yeah. Well, obviously Ian said he wanted to do something for your birthday but I figured we should have it here, you know. With family.”

Family.

He remembers the kitchen conversation, it feels like it happened so long ago. The sinking feeling in his stomach when Lip told him he wasn’t family. To a degree, he understood what he meant, but he still felt the words hit his chest like a bullet.

“Thought I wasn’t family,” Mickey teases, watching as the realization dawns on Lip, recognition enveloping his eyes.

“Shit, Mickey, that wasn’t-” Mickey cuts him off by waving a hand.

“It’s alright, shithead. Don’t give a shit,” Mickey lies, he does give shit, many in fact, but he doesn’t need Lip knowing that.

“Sure, but you are family, you know that, right?” Lip doesn’t make eye contact with him, just continues playing with his son's fingers.

Mickey sits on the bar stool, trying to cope with the knowledge that all of these people-these stupid fucking Gallaghers and Balls and Tamiettis-care about him enough to throw him a surprise birthday party.

His fucking family.

Ian apparently takes notice of his discomfort and walks over to him, Franny on his hip, “Hey, you good?” With the hand that isn’t holding up a six year-old, he rubs his back, eventually resting his palm on the nape of his neck.

Mickey nods, “It’s just a lot, man.”

Ian nods, “I know. Do you wanna go?”

Mickey shakes his head, staring at the sleepy Franny who buries her head into Ian’s shoulder, her cheek squished on his collarbone.

“Nah, I’m good,” Mickey says as Franny stretches out her arms, opening and closing her fists.

“You wanna go with Uncle Mickey instead?” Ian asks her.

When she nods, he kisses the top of her head and passes her to Mickey. Ian giggles as Mickey’s eyes go wide then soften, his shoulders relaxing as Franny peacefully transitions from one Uncle to the next, blissfully unaware of Mickey’s internal panic.

“Happy birthday, Mickey,” Ian kisses his cheek and leans into his side, sliding an arm around his torso.

“I think it might be.”

#summary: it's mickeys birthday and his fucking family throws him a party #uhh i did another thing #mickey my love you have a family who loves you so much #i had another version of this where liam tells mickey he's family but i think lip works cause of the whole family only thing ?? idk #everything else is the same tho so probably not gonna drop the other one #at least until mickeys next birthday >:)#shameless #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #lip gallagher #tami tamietti #franny gallagher #gallavich #ian x mickey #gallavich fanfiction #margo writes #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICKEY #my sweet boy #goodnight <3

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bisqueri · 3 years

Photo

Video Here!

SPACE BOIS INC.

My designs for @teeth--eater‘s Human Error AU Reblogs appreciated! ID under the cut:

[ID: 1 YouTube Thumbnail saying SBI in SPACE with drawings of Ranboo, Tubbo, and Technoblade on the left. 6 images of digital drawings made to look like sketchbook pages. Each image contains drawings of one character: Tommy, Tubbo, Techno, Philza, Wilbur, and Ranboo as aliens.

Drawing 1: To the left there’s a full body drawing of Tommy, a human 6’ 1” boy with blonde hair wearing a red baseball tee, sneakers, and dark beige pants. He is eating a golden apple. There’s a sketch of him showing his omnivorous teeth. There’s also a sketch of a human hand, a cow plushie, coffee, and a crudely drawn doodle of tommy posed like a crab. There are three dandelion stickers on the page.

Drawing 2: At the center is a full body drawing of Tubbo as an Apisaid, a human bee mix looking alien. Tubbo is a 4’0” boy with fair skin, blonde fuzz with brown roots that look like hair, segmented joints, and insect wings on his back. He is wearing a chevron striped halter top, steel-toed boots, and overalls with the top tied at his waist. There’s a close-up sketch of his face to the side. He has bug eyes on his cheeks and forehead, and has antennas and a mouth like an insect. There’s fuzz on his wrist, ankles, and neck. He has stingers on his knuckles. There are more sketches detailing his clothes and toolbelt harness that don’t get in the way of his wings. On the bottom there’s a logo of two circles surrounding a curved arrow that looks like a spaceship and a four-pointed star. The text to the side is labeled Interspecies Communication Academy. On the corner, there’s a crudely drawn doodle of Tubbo sleeping with flowers.

Drawing 3: To the side there’s a drawing of Technoblade as a 6’ Piglin, a humanoid pig-like alien. He is standing with a book at his side and his face looking sideways. His face is a mix of a bat and boar. He’s wearing a futuristic golden crown with face-shield like glasses. His build is muscular. He has four hoof fingers. He has a tail that reaches the floor. His legs are like that of a Kangaroo, but with hooves at the end. He’s wearing a dark double-breasted security uniform with hot pink accents, and gold SBI patches. There’s a sketch showing his boar-like teeth, and a sequence showing how his legs work. There’s a doodle of a a shiny apple. Above, there’s a sticker of Blaster, a big and heavy futuristic space gun. Below, there’s a drawing of a one-handed laser sword with a hilt that looks like a taser.

Drawing 4: To the left there’s a full body drawing of Philza as an Elytrian, a humanoid alien that has secretary bird legs, hawk feet, and arms with wings. To the right is a profile view of Philza. He has light yellow feathers instead of hair, blue eyes, and a long swan-like neck. There are skectches showing Phil’s sleeveless v-cut shirt that opens using buckles on the side, and has a tail slit. There’s a doodle of Philza flying and grabbing a person’s arm. There’s a drawing of a Hadcore Heart Gem macramé necklace gifted by Tommy. He has bat like feathered and winged arms and sharp claws.

Drawing 5: To the left there’s a full body drawing of Wilbur Soot as a Phantling, a humanoid alien with blue skin and a manta ray-like back with spikes. He’s holding an Erlenmeyer flask of blue liquid. He’s wearing a lab coat, a yellow open-shoulder sweater, gloves with metal tips, and shoes. There are drawings talking about his see-through torso-skin and curly hair that spikes when scared. There’s a fragile logo taped on the corner.

Drawing 6: A full-body drawing of Ranboo as an Enderian, an enderman-inspired alien. He’s walking forward slouched. He has dark blue-violet skin which fades to a lighter purple at the extremities. He has big triangular ears at the side of his head. He has a purple middle part with an Angler fish’s rod on his forehead. His eyes are big and glowing. He doesn’t have a nose, but he does have nostrils. He has a wide mouth and his expression is weary. He has velociraptor-like legs, clawed feet, and a thin tail. He is wearing an altered Interspecies Communication Academy uniform. His light grey dress shirt has a drawstring collar with a yellow ribbon haphazardly tied. His big sleeves are synched at his elbows. He is wearing a dark grey waist coat with wide arm holes, and one big button shaped like the school logo. He is wearing dark grey slacks with zippers at the sides of the legs. There are sketches detailing his posture, and specially made clothes. There’s a sketch of his big paw-like hands with pads that can teleport. Below there’s a close of his face showing his open webbed mouth. There’s a logo of his school, Interspecies Communication Academy.

End ID]

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writemywaytoyourheart · 3 years

Text

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 10: On The Line

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, fluff

WC: 4k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, a gun, everyone is confused about their feelings and oblivious

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @kookiesxbananamilk @voidswan @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @jadethd @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinnn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous > Next

Jungkook likes you?

The events of today won't stop going around in circles in your head.

You clutch the giant octopus stuffie close to your chest, your legs wrapping around it. Your face is a bright red as you try to calm your breathing.

The more you think about it, the faster your heart races.

You need to calm down.

Mina was mistaken.

Yes, that's all it was.

Mina is always trying to tell you that guys like you, but they never actually have.

She was always trying to boost your self-confidence.

That thought makes you frown.

You don't need or want the approval of a man to boost your self-worth and confidence.

You hug the octopus even tighter as your brows furrow in thought.

A sigh leaves your lips as your heavy eyelids start to close slowly, sleep creeping up on you. You blink your eyes open again. For some reason, you don't want to fall asleep.

A few minutes later, no matter how hard you try to fight it, you inevitably fall asleep, your lips set into a small frown as the worries in your mind find their way into your dreams.

____________________

"So, why weren't you able to kill her yet?"

Tae asks in disbelief as he sits on the couch, watching Jungkook pretend to read his book. Jungkook bites his lip but ignores Tae's question as he flips the page and gets more comfortable on his bed.

Tae glowers at his friend, "I really thought you had a good reason somewhere in that minuscule brain of yours. Apparently, you just have a death wish."

"Can you please be quiet? I'm reading."

"As fucking if you're actually reading!" Taehyung exclaims in exasperation, "Answer me. Why haven't you finished your hit yet?"

"You know why," Jungkook mumbles, his face still in his book.

Taehyung scoffs and leans back, crossing one leg over the other, "Enlighten me."

Jungkook looks at him from over his book, "I already told you why."

"Uhm, no you didn't."

"Yes, I did!" Jungkook exclaims, "I told you I need to know why she's a target!"

"But why??"

"I don't know!"

Taehyung looks at Jungkook like he's got two heads, making the younger squirm under his gaze.

"So, let me get this straight," Tae coughs and points at Jungkook for emphasis, "You, an infamous hitman that has never failed a hit since he was fifteen years old, is hesitating because one stupid little bitch is confusing you-"

"She's not a stupid bitch."

Tae looks at Jungkook in surprise when he comes to the target's defense. He chuckles darkly, "You did not just interrupt me and defend your target at the same time. I know you didn't."

Jungkook swallows thickly, surprised at his own words. But, he can't back out now. So, he clears his throat and sets his book down, "Just because she's a target doesn't mean you can call her a stupid bitch."

"Look," Tae says while he rubs his temples as if Jungkook is giving him a headache by just existing, "If it was that hot Mina girl we were talking about, sure, I'd cut you some slack. But _____? Really? What about her makes you hesitate?"

"I don't know," Jungkook chokes out.

Tae's eyes squint as he watches Jungkook closely, "You make no sense. Your life is on the line, JK. Get the hit done...please."

Jungkook lies down, turning so that Tae can't see his face, "I'm going to get it done."

_____________________

The next morning, you're woken up by a loud knocking sound.

You sit up and rub your eyes, blinking in confusion as you look around your room.

The knocking sounds again and you realize it's coming from outside your room.

"Huh?"

You stumble out of bed, grabbing your starfish plushie and plodding your way to the front door. You open it without looking out the peephole, assuming it would be Mina.

When you see Jungkook standing there, your heart leaps to your throat.

The second the door opens and Jungkook sees you, he feels his heart pinch in his chest. Your hair is a mess, in your face and sticking out every which way. You're still in your pajamas if the long tattered t-shirt that goes to your knees is anything to go by. At first, your eyes were squinty as you looked him up and down, then they widen when you realize it's him.

You let out a tiny gasp and clutch the starfish plushie you're holding to your chest.

Jungkook swallows thickly, "Uhm, hi. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

You shake your head, unable to form any words.

Jungkook's face relaxes and he lets out a little laugh, "Ok, good. I wanted to take you somewhere today if you want to?"

You stare at him for a second, Mina's words replaying in your head.

Jungkook starts to shift his weight, wondering why you're just staring at him and not saying anything. He's just about to take back what he said and say he'll come back another day, but then you nod, "Uh, y-yes. I'd l-like that."

"Ah, cool," Jungkook sighs in relief, "Well, I'll let you get dressed. I'll be downstairs when you're ready."

You nod, willing your cheeks not to turn red as you close the door and lean your back against it for a moment.

Once your brain catches up with the rest of you, you head to your room to get dressed. You grab a short white skirt from your closet and pull it on quickly, then you snatch a baby blue sweater and put it on.

After pulling on a pair of white socks, you're about to run out to put on your shoes when Mina's words pass through your brain when you see the make-up on your bathroom counter.

"Jungkook would fall head over heels for you if you did."

"Boys like it when girls try to get fancy for them."

You pout at the make-up for a second, trying to decide if you want to put it on or not. You eventually settle for grabbing the hairbrush and running it through your hair a few times before pulling it into a high ponytail and leaving the make-up where it is.

You smile at your reflection and turn to hurry and get your shoes.

Jungkook looks at a text from Taehyung as he waits for you downstairs.

I hope you're getting it done.

He sighs and puts the phone back in his pocket, then he looks up when he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs.

You're running down the steps, your hair bouncing up and down and the smile on your lips lighting up your whole face.

Jungkook swallows thickly when you stop in front of him, a small giggle leaving your mouth at the distant look on his face.

She remembered to brush her hair today...

That's the only thought that Jungkook can process at the moment.

Then he notices that you have small dark circles under your eyes, causing him to frown. But he covers it up a second later and gestures towards the black car in the parking lot.

"Oh!" You exclaim when you realize he's going to drive you somewhere, "Where a-are we g-going?"

"It's a surprise," Jungkook mumbles, then he turns and heads for the car.

You go to the passenger's side and climb in, buckling up as Jungkook starts the car.

"I d-didn't know you h-had a car," You say with a laugh as Jungkook pulls out of the parking spot.

He sends you a tightlipped smile, "There's a lot you don't know about me."

That makes you curious.

You turn to him, "Ok, w-what's your favorite c-color?"

"What?"

"Your f-favorite color."

"Uh, why?" Jungkook asks uncertainly.

You look out the front window, "I d-don't know. I always a-ask people that."

"Is it that important?"

"It is t-to me."

"Ah, ok well...I guess my favorite color is red," Jungkook says, keeping his eyes on the road even though he has a sudden urge to turn and look at you, "What about you?"

"I l-love yellow."

Jungkook finds himself smiling softly, then he wipes the smile from his face and clears his throat, "And why is that?"

"I d-don't know. It just m-makes me happy," You say dreamily, looking out the passenger window now, your chin in your hand, "Why d-do you like r-red?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I associate the color with passion and doing the things you love," Jungkook muses as he takes a right turn.

You turn and look at him, watching him closely for a minute before you whisper, "And? A-Are you doing w-what you love?"

Jungkook swallows and glances at you before fixing his eyes on the road again, "No, no I'm not."

You're about to ask him why, but the look on his face makes you hesitate. He looks upset, so you decide to leave it at that.

"Ok, w-what's your f-favorite food?" You ask instead.

That gets a laugh out of Jungkook as he gets into the left lane, turning onto the highway.

"I feel like you're interrogating me," He chuckles.

You laugh, a sound that makes Jungkook's chest feel warm.

"W-Well? Do you h-have a favorite?"

Jungkook smiles and shakes his head, "You're not gonna stop until you know all about me, are you?"

You send him a toothy grin and shake your head, "N-Nope!"

Jungkook sighs, "Well, I don't have a favorite. Honestly, I like anything with flour in it. I like pizza, noodles, churros."

You laugh and Jungkook finds himself fighting another smile, "Ok, well what about you, ___?"

You shrug, causing Jungkook to protest.

"Nuh uh! You have to answer the questions too, missy. You can't just ask me and not have to say anything yourself!"

You laugh again, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, "But I d-don't have a f-favorite."

"Well, do you like salty, spicy, or sweet the most?" Jungkook insists.

"Sweet!" You shout, making his chest tight with an emotion he doesn't understand as he laughs, "Well, ok then."

A few minutes later, Jungkook pulls into a parking lot where there are a lot of cars.

You hop out of the car and look around in confusion, "W-Where are we?"

"The train station," Jungkook says simply, "We need to take a train to get there."

"Ohh, w-wow," You whisper in awe as you follow Jungkook inside the station, "I've n-never been on a t-train before."

"Really?" Jungkook looks at you in surprise.

You nod, "Mmhm."

You continue to follow behind Jungkook as he moves through the station.

He goes up to a little window and purchases two tickets, then he turns to you, "Our train leaves in ten minutes, we need to hurry."

Jungkook turns and starts walking briskly through the crowds of people, making you almost have to jog to keep up with him.

"J-Jungkook, w-wait up!"

But it's so loud in the station that he doesn't hear you. He's almost out of your sight.

The amount of people crowding around is making your heart beat faster as you start to hyperventilate.

You can't see Jungkook anymore. He's gone. He's gone. He's left you all alone.

"J-Jungkook?" You shout, getting a few judging looks from the people around you.

You turn in a circle, now completely lost.

You don't even know where the entrance is anymore, let alone where your train is.

You're about to start crying when someone touches your arm.

"Hey, sweetie. You all right?"

You turn to see a young man that looks to be about your age smiling down at you. Your heart slows down considerably to see a friendly face, even though you've never met him in your life.

"I'm l-lost," You say with a shaky voice.

The man nods sympathetically, "I could tell. What train are you supposed to be on?"

"I'm n-not sure, m-my friend has th-the tickets."

"Ah, I see. And where did your friend go?" He asks kindly.

"I d-don't know. I lost h-him."

The young man nods again, "Well, I'll help you find him. Come with me," Then he takes your arm gently and leads you through the crowd of people.

"Oh, th-thank you," You say shyly, relieved someone has offered to help you.

"It isn't a problem at all, hun."

When the man leads you to a train with people getting on, you look around in confusion.

Where is Jungkook?

"Uhm," You aren't sure what to say to the man as he starts pulling you towards the open doors of the train.

"I'm sure he's on this train," The stranger says when he sees you hesitating.

There's something in your tummy telling you not to follow him, but he's been so kind...

You decide to look for Jungkook yourself, so you try to pull away from the man, but he holds onto your arm tighter.

"E-Excuse me, I'm just g-going to go this w-way," You tell him with a smile as you point in a different direction.

"No, I'm sure he's on this train-"

"It's o-okay, th-thank you-"

"Look, sweetie. You need to trust me."

"Uhm, p-please don't c-call me that," You try to pull away from him again.

The man holds on tighter and a desperate look comes over his face, "Please, ____. Listen to me-"

"H-How do you know m-my name?" Alarm bells go off in your head as you try once more to pull away from him.

The man lets go of your arm to grab both your shoulders and shake you a little, "He's leading you away. He's going to ki-"

"____?"

You both turn to see Jungkook heading towards you.

You step away from the stranger just as he pulls away from you and runs in a different direction.

Jungkook walks up to you, his brows furrowed, "____, where on earth were you? And who was that guy?"

"I g-got lost. That man s-said he would h-help me," You say tearfully, moving so that you're next to Jungkook.

Jungkook sighs, "You can't just trust anyone ____."

He takes your shoulders and gently turns you to look him straight in the eyes, "Promise me you won't trust anyone. No one."

Your brows furrow but you nod anyway, "Ok, I p-promise."

"Good, now we have to go, our train leaves in two minutes."

Jungkook turns to hurry to your train, but stops in his tracks when he feels a small hand grasp his.

He turns to see you holding onto his hand, your huge eyes looking up at him.

"What are you doing?" He asks, his voice shaking a little.

"I'm s-scared to g-get lost again," You whisper.

Jungkook swallows thickly, then you feel him squeeze your hand and hold it tightly as he pulls you through the station to the train that's just about to depart.

You and Jungkook don't talk much during the ride, Jungkook mostly looking out the window and fiddling with his fingers, occasionally looking at his phone, only to roll his eyes and put it back in his pocket.

You keep thinking about what that strange man said.

"He's leading you away. He's going to ki-"

Who? Who was leading you away?

Jungkook?

You look over at him, watching as he looks out at the trees flying past the windows.

Then you shake your head, Jungkook wouldn't ever do anything bad to you.

An hour later, the train stops and after the location is announced through the speakers, Jungkook stands up and forces a smile onto his face.

"We're here."

You get up and follow him off the train, squinting in the sunlight.

Jungkook leads you out of the station and hails a taxi.

He says something to the driver that you don't hear, then he opens the back door for you and you climb in.

Jungkook slides in next to you.

"W-Where are we g-going?" You ask quietly, still feeling a bit awkward after the train ride.

"You'll see," Jungkook says, and that's all you get.

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi driver pulls over and Jungkook thanks him as he opens the door and climbs out. You step out of the taxi and gasp when you see the ocean sparkling in the sunlight.

"Oh," You breathe, shutting the car door behind you.

You follow Jungkook over to a little area where there is sand and rocks.

Then you break into a run, making your way to the water.

Jungkook watches as you start taking off your chunky tennis shoes and pulling off your socks. You tuck your socks into your shoes and go straight for the waves coming up on the sand.

The second the cold water touches your toes, you squeal and jump back, laughing and turning to Jungkook.

"It's c-cold!" You shriek in delight.

Jungkook walks up to the edge of the waves, not making a move to remove his shoes, so you pout at him and point at his feet, "Take off y-your shoes, s-silly!"

Jungkook shakes his head, "No, thanks."

You shrug, then you turn and run into the water until it's up to your knees, then you shriek again and run back, laughing your head off.

Jungkook purses his lips as he watches you run in and out of the water.

Then he calls out to you when you run out of the water for the hundredth time, "You act like you've never seen water before!"

You smile at him, "I n-never been to the o-ocean!"

After an hour has passed and you're tired of playing in the water, you walk up to Jungkook, who's sitting on a big rock.

"Where a-are all the p-people?" You ask curiously.

Jungkook flips his hair back with his hand and looks at you, "This is a more secluded spot. People prefer to be where there aren't many rocks and stuff."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Jungkook looks out at the water, "Are you having fun?"

A smile breaks out on your face and you nod happily, "Y-Yes! Thank y-you for taking m-me here."

"Of course."

A moment of silence passes, then Jungkook looks over at you, "Can I show you something?"

"S-Sure."

Jungkook leads you over to a bunch of rocks that lead up to a cliff.

He starts to climb them and you feel your stomach flip over with anxiety.

Jungkook turns to look at you when he senses that you're not behind him.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"I'm s-scared of h-heights," You say in embarrassment.

Jungkook laughs, making you pout.

He stops laughing and climbs down to stand next to you, "It really isn't that high or steep, ____. I'll help you, come on," He holds his hand out to you and you take it cautiously.

Jungkook starts going up the rocks again, keeping your hand in his, which causes your cheeks to burst into flames.

Jungkook himself is fighting the weird feeling in his chest when he feels your sweaty hand holding tightly to his own.

"We're almost there."

A minute later, you've made it to the top.

A few feet away to the right, there's a drop-off that's much higher than where you just climbed up, a straight drop down to the ocean below.

Behind you is a bunch of grass and a pathway leading down the hill to where you just were.

"H-Hey!" You exclaim when you realize something, "We d-didn't have t-to climb that!" You point at the path and Jungkook shrugs while chuckling.

"Don't even say you didn't enjoy it. It was exciting!"

You roll your eyes playfully and walk over to the edge to look over, watching the waves crash around.

"Careful," Jungkook warns, "Don't fall."

"I w-won't," You step back and walk over to sit on the ground next to where Jungkook is standing.

You pat the ground next to you and Jungkook takes a seat.

You two sit there for a long time, just enjoying the scenery.

"Let's c-continue," You eventually say, making Jungkook laugh.

"Continue what?"

You look at him seriously, "W-What is your favorite a-animal?"

Jungkook gives you a half smile and turns to look out across the ocean.

"Uhm, I'm not sure."

You sit there in silence for a minute, then Jungkook lays back on the grass and sighs, "Bunnies are pretty cute."

"Th-That's my f-favorite!" You exclaim.

Jungkook looks over at you as you lie down next to him, "Really?"

"Y-Yeah!"

"Weird."

"W-Well, now y-you have to a-ask me a q-question."

Jungkook looks at the clouds, his mind racing.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

You look over at him to see if he's serious, and see that he looks over at you at the same time, his face far from joking.

"Uhm, one t-time I didn't t-take my medicine for a f-few days...I l-lied to the doctor th-that I took it."

Jungkook looks at you, his brows furrowed.

"That's it? That's the worst thing you've ever done?"

You turn to look at the clouds and think as hard as you can, "Oh, o-one time I accidentally th-threw out a p-picture that one of m-my students d-drew for me."

Jungkook sees a little tear slip down your cheek at your words. He stares at you in disbelief.

"And o-once I didn't listen to m-my mom wh-when she told me to take our d-dog out p-potty. He peed on th-the floor."

"Seriously?" Jungkook asks as he sits up on one elbow.

"I know, I'm h-horrible," You say as you wipe the tears from your cheek and eyes.

Jungkook bites back a laugh, "You're not horrible."

"What a-about you? What's th-the worst thing y-you've ever done?"

Jungkook bites his lip and lays back down, "I'm an angel, I've never done wrong."

"L-Liar," You pout, crossing your arms.

"What do you think is the worst thing I've ever done?" He asks you seriously.

You put a finger to your chin, "Hmm, l-let me think."

A minute later, you speak up again, "I th-think you've p-peer pressured someone t-to do something. But y-you regretted it l-later."

Jungkook looks at you with wide eyes, then he swallows thickly and turns away again, "You're wrong."

Except you weren't.

Jungkook isn't going to tell you that though.

You can get his favorite color and food and animal out of him, but you'll never know him for who he really is.

"Then, w-what is it?"

"Never mind, it was a stupid question. You ask one now."

"Ok...what d-do you love?"

The silence that follows is deafening.

Then a loud ringing sounds and you both jump.

Jungkook grabs his phone out of his pocket and sighs when he sees Taehyung's name across the screen.

"Sorry, I have to answer this."

"Go ah-head."

Jungkook stands up and moves to the side before answering it, "What do you want?" He growls into the phone.

"Did you do it?"

"I fucking swear, Taehyung. If you don't shut the fuck up and let me do my job I'm going to kill you next," Jungkook whispers fiercely.

"Whatever. Just get it done."

Before Jungkook can curse him out some more, Tae hangs up, making Jungkook growl again in annoyance.

Then Jungkook turns to see you standing by the edge, looking out over the water.

He swallows the lump in his throat, Tae's voice finding it's way to his mind as it whispers, Just do it, push her off...

Quick and easy.

He walks over, his hands out and ready to get this hit over with.

He notices his hands shaking uncontrollably.

Then he decides against it and reaches into the back of his pants, pulling out a small gun.

One shot and you're done, Jungkook.

You're done.

"J-Jungkook..."

He hides the gun behind his back, but you don't even turn around. You just keep looking out at the water, your arms crossed over your chest.

"I h-hope one day, th-that you f-find what you love. I hope y-you can do wh-what you love," You turn and smile at him softly, your hair blowing in the gentle wind as you whisper, "I hope you c-can live for w-what you love."

Jungkook sucks in a breath as the image of a woman appears next to you at your words.

"Live for me and do what you love, please. Whatever happens, Jungkook, don't let them change you..."

Jungkook's lip trembles at the woman's words, the ones he could never hear before.

"Don't let them ruin you."

You watch Jungkook as he seems to have some kind of internal struggle, then he walks close to the edge and throws something as far as he can as a broken scream leaves his throat.

All you see is a small black object fall into the ocean.

When you turn to Jungkook, he's on his knees, his head hanging as he breathes shakily.

You say nothing.

After a minute, Jungkook looks up at you, and you feel your heart break at the agony in his eyes, "____," He whispers.

"Y-Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

_________________________________

a:n im back :)

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