#my window to how shitty things can still be under this fuckers roof

[notoriousdogooder]

AIGHT SO

The sleep paralysis demon is meant to be Eden! Might be hard to notice but they share their orgasm lines with Eden, as well as Eden "disappearing" when it attacks (they don't actually go anywhere, they're still sleeping and not molesting PC in their sleep).

I thought it would be neat to have a representation of Eden causing PC stress while PC thinking they're meant to protect them since they do have Stockholm Syndrome for Eden.

nooooo 😭😭😭 i thought it was like how ivory wraith possesses/takes the form of Li's but its actually just eden

my mind immediately went to whether or not this was the first time this has happened, and its so depressing. like, you hand yourself over to someone after trail and error because at least you'll be safe with them, just to be violated in that safe space

like wow eden you already have everything ive got to offer. but MAN is this a welcomed wake up call to Eden's general shittyness

#yeah yeah free use also means somno and as much as eden wants a spouse they also want a fleshlight #as someone who avoids not being away from eden in fear of going back to the cage this is like #my window to how shitty things can still be under this fuckers roof #amd im snorting it like cocaine #eden the hunter #degrees of lewdity

[archetypal-archivist]

My Beloved, Penis

Fuck it. I was infected by Penis SMP by @demonboyhalo reblogging a bunch of it and the lack of consistent lore bugged me, so I somehow banged out 2000+ words of fanfic about the Penis SMP and how it got started. Lots of internet humor and classic MInecraft shenanigans in this one folks. *slaps roof* This baby can fit so much crack treated seriously, lol. This is also up on my AO3, Zazibine, if you would prefer to read it there.

_-_-_-_

It was never supposed to get so big. It was just an SMP with a couple friends of his he had met from the Hypixel discord server, where he had logged on simply to trash talk the absolute asshole who had dared to kill him last minute in bedwars, only to stumble upon said asshole- going under the name shittyfartbaby69 of all things- complaining to his girlfriend(?) Milfboss in the voice chat. Thirty minutes later of awkward hellos and the manliest of bitching at each other (with Milf chiming in every once in a while to roast them both), and PenisUnavailable had perhaps his first Minecraft friend in, like, forever.

Then Admiral_Anus had entered chat, bitching about his competitor in ABBA Mining and his bullshit bad luck and the whole process repeated. By the end of the day, Penis had three new friends, a private discord server for the four of them, and a promise to meet up with them in Hypixel next Sunday for the ultimate round of bedwars.

The game went spectacularly. Somehow, Admiral had some of the best bridging skills any of them had ever seen, and between Milfboss' terrifying Scottish screaming and pvp and Shitty with his clutch TNT skills, the three of them almost made up for Penis' awful depth perception. They still lost around forty percent of their games, but that was certainly better than Penis' own abysmal record, not helped with his habit of walking off the edge at inconvenient times.

And it was... fun. Usually bedwars was just him playing in his bedroom alone for an hour before he rage-quit and went back to survival for a bit before he died to fall damage and rage quit that too. But shittyfartbaby69 would crack dirty jokes that he'd never even heard of before, and Milfboss would roast him for looking it up on reddit and Shitty would cuss her out as he tried to prove that no, he was being original- all while Admiral would comment of them as if they were a sideshow display. Then Admiral_Anus would turn around and knock an enemy player off their island with some clever pvp and they would all hoot and holler and swear for a while before going back to their conversation, joking about forgetting the topic and starting up a running gag about something new.

And their accents, mmm. PenisUnavailable would never say it, but he really was as American as white Wonder bread and Milfboss' Scottish brogue, Admiral's smooth British snark, and Shitty's shrieking in Australian, well. Ear candy, you know? Even if he teased them mercilessly for pronouncing shit wrong, like "buhguhr". Ppffttt, it still cracked him up how Milfboss had threatened to murder him after the dictionary app on his phone had proved him right that it was actually "Bur-gur", even if Admiral kept insisting it was pronounced "bruh-girl".

Four hours and twenty-eight wins later, they had agreed to meet up the next day to play again, preferably at an hour that wasn't two am for Shitty again. (It was two am for Shitty again, although that was because they played for six that time.) Eventually, it just became a regular thing, them playing bedwars and competing at ABBA Caving- the one game Penis was unnaturally good at, much to Admiral's annoyance- to the point where they ran out of funny jokes about their competitors and the game itself and started talking personal anecdotes.

Milfboss owned a motorcycle. Admiral, entirely independently, also owned a motorcycle, as that was the only vehicle of reasonable speed and style that could actually handle the London traffic. Shitty couldn't drive at all, something about never passing his driving test. Admiral ate cheese at breakfast. Shitty liked to burn his garbage in a metal oil drum in his backyard. Milfboss posted herself singing covers of shit over on Youtube. And it wasn't just real life stuff either- their minecraft skills were also on the table for them all to collectively roast.

Admiral had never seen a single Minecraft Championship. Milfboss thought a flat cobblestone roof was entirely acceptable. Shitty's favorite block was the flint and steel. (That's not a block, sixty-niner. Shut up, is too. OoOh, real clever, 'shut up'! Uh, how about no? How about I fuckin' make you, ever think 'a that? No nono nonono, I'm on two hearts! I'm on two hearts, stop!) It made him curious, honestly. He wanted to see Milf's builds for himself, get revenge on Shitty, see if Admiral really could beat the Ender Dragon with a knockback stick like he said he could.

So he made a minecraft server. And they all joined it. (And stuck PenisUnavailable with the bill, suckaaahhh~!)

Predictably, it all went to Hell in a hand basket pretty quick.

See, it's one thing to play with nutters like his friends in a structured set up like Hypixel games, it's quite another to try and keep a semblance of order in an open world survival server like the Penis SMP. The first five minutes had been him trying to explain the rules and teleporting everyone back to spawn over and over as they tried to "escape the cops," ie, him. The next five minutes was Shitty scream-laughing "scatter!" and other John Mulany references down the mic as everyone ran off to start their houses. Penis, as he was still "god" at that moment, used admin commands to find the closest flower field biome to settle into, hoping for some- ha- peace and quiet.

Shitty, inevitably, ended up trying to settle in the fucking Nether. Like a mad lad, you know, as you do when you are apparently obsessed with all things lava. Milfboss ended up making an oak plank box of a "tree house" in a dark oak forest, while Admiral_Anus picked a nearby swamp for his starter base. Outside of that, they just kinda vibed in discord as they tried to fend off the mobs and get enough resources to try and build up houses that were a bit more than cobblestone towers and wood boxes- er, mostly. Milf kinda just fucked off to go mining, found a skeleton spawner by chance, and made a set of iron gear to stand in the dungeon room with to just chill and kill mobs for a while. She ended up with something like 45 levels and burned her only diamond on an enchanting table so she could buff the Hell out of her iron weapons and armor.

Penis, rather typically, he though to himself, put together a basic sheep farm and started work on a cute little cobblestone cave base. He managed to get a whole twenty by twenty block room done and fully furnished before he noticed the chat full of Shitty's death messages and went to go investigate. After nearly dying in lava twice, he managed to find Shitty's pile of items floating on a basalt pillar about a hundred blocks out from his... base?

It was a soccer ball. Shitty's base was a perfect fucking spherical soccer ball made up of quartz blocks and basalt. Just. What. The Fuck??? Then out popped shittyfartbaby69 and it was PenisUnavailable's turn to misjudge a jump and plummet right into lava. Fifteen minutes and much shrieking later about losing his diamond pick, and it turns out that Shitty didn't really care about his lost items, as he really only had four gold picks, a stack of dark oak, two furnaces, a bucket, and thirteen cooked mutton to his name. Not even a bed, the fucker. He just ran back to his portal from spawn every time he just burned to death, taking the chance to gather resources on the way back each time.

And no, he wasn't following a tutorial for his "football" base. Jerk. (Although Penis did have to admire his determination...)

The day ended on Milfboss, Shitty, and Penis reconvening back at spawn to try and hunt down Admiral_Anus, who they found later having built a thirty block tall castle of all things. Out of cobble stone and the windows weren't quite even, but still, it was pretty impressive. And of course, when presented with a castle, what can what do but siege it? So they lay siege to the castle and Milfboss curb-stomped Admiral in pvp and laid claim to the throne, crowning herself queen before summarily throwing the rest of them out. It was a good day.

And the day after was a good day. They played dodge ball crossed with hide and seek in forest around Penis' house with arrows supplied by Milfboss. And the day after that, too, where they had a building competition using nothing but cobble stone, specifically to spite Milfboss, who had kicked all of their asses the day before. In fact, three wonderful weeks passed of doing normal Minecraft shit and being friends passed by, and every bit of it was great fun.

And then came the fucking role play.

PenisUnavailable would have liked to preface that with he only participated under duress, but really, Milfboss had been queen for too long and nobody wanted to risk TNT cannoning any of Shitty's nice builds, so. Well, the castle was better than his drafty cave, alright? It was cold and wet and didn't have a proper door because aesthetic (and because it usually took him several tries to work an iron pressure plate door), so there were far too many mobs wandering in at night and spawn camping him. He and Shitty had almost the same number of deaths and Shitty lived in the fucking Nether.

So yeah. Castle time, baby! Daddy needs a new home! And Admiral obviously wasn't happy living out of Milf's awful tree house hot box where they all did drugs together on day fifteen and it still smelled of burnt wheat seeds, aka "weed." It was only obvious that they teamed up to try and take back the castle.

The battle itself didn't exactly go great, but it wasn't exactly horrible either. A lot of shouting shit at each other for fifteen minutes, the majority of which he wouldn't remember until it was too late- something about server unity?- only to find out that it wasn't two on one girl boss, it was two on a girl boss and her "baked out of his mind" henchman, also known as Shitty in a squirrel furry skin.

The ears man. Those stupid (cute) ears.

And then they were running for their lives because Milf had somehow gotten her hands on a flame bow with infinity enchants.

It all culminated in a dramatic stand-off in front of Shitty's Nether Soccer ball, Milf on one side, diamond axe in hand, not a bit of armor on because of an unfortunate run in with lava, Penis and Admiral on the other, picks in hand, threatening to tear down shittyfartbaby69's base. Shitty wasn't online just then to comment, but they could all hear him click-clacking away on his keyboard so he obviously hadn't gone to sleep just yet like he said he had. At an impasse, and unable to justify letting her teammate's home be used as collateral, Milfboss stood down and gave up her "crown," an enchanted golden Prot IV helmet she had gotten off a skeleton from her spawner.

Then the great betrayal, the beginning of the end. Shitty came back online. 96-Cam joined the game, not that they noticed in the chaos. Admiral-Anus cackled wildly and PMed Milfboss the message that Shitty had sent him, giving Team Gay Sex permission to tear down his base in the name of winning the war if it came down to it- making Milf's sacrifice worthless in the end. Penis gave another dramatic speech, circling around Shitty, who was acting weirdly apologetic to Milf about betraying her and still wearing that fucking squirrel furry skin.

"You see Milf, there's one thing more powerful than a girl boss, and when it comes down to wars between kingdoms, there's something you need to remember!" Penis got out his golden ax, helpfully labeled 'Piss Off'.  "And that's a dilf with something to lose!" An enderpearl in his off hand and he teleported behind Milf, catching on fire from the lava but still landing the last hit needed to finish her off. She puffed into a cloud of EXP, swearing up a storm, and then Admiral and Penis turned their gaze to the cheering Shitty.

"AAAAAYYY, LET'S GO DADDY!" the squirrel man screeched, wild laughter shorting out the discord voice chat, making him go quiet in patches when the volume overloaded the client. Behind him, Admiral quietly started building a chair out of birch fence posts and slabs.

"Not so fast, shit-ty-fart-baaaaa-byyyyy~, this isn't quite over yet!" Penis fucking chirped, barely holding back his laughter. "You're still a fucking traitor and we can't have you backstabbing us too. Get in the chair for Daddy, okay baby?"

Admiral finished the chair just in time for Shitty to turn around and see the completed monstrosity, shrieking dying off immediately. "Oh screw you, that's just mean. The Hell man? That's not a chair, that's illegal. If you want an electric chair or some shit, just ask. That's just sad." Mentally shrugging, Admiral lit up his work with a flint and steel while Penis pillared up above where Shitty was building an electric chair out of iron bars and trap doors. Admiral nudged Shitty into the chair, Penis dumped a bucket of lava over the edge of the pillar so it flowed over him, and Shitty started giving a soliloquy about how betrayal and how his love for his "Daddy" still "burned strong".

Like his dick. Apparently.

By the time the lava finally hit the floor and burned Shitty to death, Penis was crying with laughter, shrieking down the mike and banging on the desk hard enough to make him forget that his was still on the mouse, making him mine the block under him with the bucket and sending him hurtling to his fiery death too.

It was a good day... almost.

Because, as it turned out, shittyfartbaby69 was actually a tiktokker of some renown and his cam account had record everything. And he had uploaded the bit to tiktok, as you do, where it went viral, where it wasn't supposed to. And Milfboss, who had recently been uploading covers of herself singing old classic Minecraft songs, had attracted the Minecraft fandom kids to her twitter, where she had gone to post her rage about the events of her dethroning and Shitty's execution.

Penis SMP had gotten on. Fucking. Trending. And now everyone was demanding the full clip, their names, their Twitch streamer handles, their characters' backstories.

The masses wanted lore.

Penis watched in disbelief, head in his hands and mouth agape as sugar crash played over a clip of him killing Milf on loop.

They were making memes.

...Oh god. They were screwed.

#penismp #penis smp #fanfiction #minecraft #my writing #crack #crack treated seriously #also on ao3 #penisunavailable #milfboss #shittyfartbaby69 #admiral_anus

[keichanz]

Koi no Yokan | 12

sorry it took so long to get this one out. i've been without a computer for the past two weeks and i finally got my new one in last night. slightly longer chapter to make up for it. things are finally starting to pick up ;D enjoy~ 

AO3

Kagome tipped him another smile and parted her lips, but before she could say anything, she emitted a big yawn and she was left blinking. Inuyasha felt his lips twitch and he looked away before she could see his amusement.

Fuck, but that had been cute.

“It’s late,” he commented, looking out the window. “You should get some sleep.” He nodded at the chair a foot away. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”

Kagome bit her lip, deliberating. Then before she could change her mind she blurted out, “The bed’s big enough for both of us.”

He gave her a look and Kagome had to grin.

“Okay, so maybe not,” she giggled and he snorted, rolling his eyes.  “Still, though. If you find you can’t sleep…” She shrugged, not without a blush, and scooted further down until she could roll onto her side. “I don’t mind sharing. And I…I know you won’t do anything. I trust you.””

“Noted,” Inuyasha drawled, shaking his head, though he was flattered that she trusted him enough to offer. He just hoped she wouldn’t be too trusting in the future with less than reputable men.

“Go to sleep,” he repeated even as another yawn escaped her mouth. “I’m gonna go wash off weeks old grime and dirt and maybe I’ll feel somewhat human.” He paused, then added under his breath, “Well, half-human,” but Kagome was too sleepy to hear, blue eyes blinking up at him drowsily.

“Sha?” she murmured and he paused on his way to the door. She smiled sleepily at him and whispered, “I know I’ve already said it, but…thank you again. For saving me. I’d probably be a lot worse off if…you hadn’t.”

Her eyes closed and she sighed before giving into the throes of slumber, content and trusting enough to fall asleep with a man she’d just met standing in her room.

For some reason Inuyasha’s heart clenched at the sight of her fast asleep, looking so damn small and fragile curled up on that tiny ass bed. He swallowed once, twice, the lump in his throat suddenly making it harder to breathe.

“You’re welcome, Koi,” he whispered before quietly leaving to go wash up, closing the door gently behind him.

He returned roughly thirty minutes later, stealing back inside just as quietly as he had left. A quick look toward the bed revealed Koi was still sleeping soundly. He actually did feel a lot better – god, that hot water had felt amazing – and it felt good to release his hair from the braid it had been in for the last…when was the last time he’d washed his hair? Two weeks? The washroom had even had some decent selection of soaps, and while most if not all were feminine, Inuyasha hadn’t cared because it was soap.

Now, feeling clean and warm and drowsy, Inuyasha wanted nothing more than to pass out and not wake up for a solid six hours. But instead of going to the chair, he found himself walking to the bed instead and slowly sinking down onto the edge.

Koi didn’t stir, her breaths even and deep. He felt that feeling in his chest again, an odd sort of ache, but it was almost…pleasant. She looked so peaceful with her face relaxed in sleep, lips slightly parted, strands of hair resting against the smoothness of her skin. Before Inuyasha even realized what he was doing, clawed fingers gingerly brushed back her hair, his touch lingering and he was rewarded with a gentle sigh from the slumbering woman.

It was ridiculous, and probably a little inappropriate, how fast he decided to screw proprieties sake and slowly lower himself down beside her. She had said she wouldn’t mind, and she was petite, besides. They could both fit on the sorry excuse of a lumpy mattress so long as he didn’t move around too much, which was unlikely given how damn tired he was. And you know what, fuck it. The bed, as thin and shitty as it was, was bound to be more comfortable than the chair and he was allowed to be selfish at least once, goddammit.

Besides, Inuyasha thought as he settled onto his back, putting an arm behind his head as he closed his eyes. I’ll probably never see her again after this, anyway. I can allow myself this thing. This small…nice smelling…thing…

With a sigh, Inuyasha finally drifted off to the land of nod, surrounded by the gentle scent of roses and vanilla.

It was still dark outside when Inuyasha was jerked awake to the sound of a deafening explosion that rocked the entire brothel, jostling the woman curled up against his side into wakefulness. Koi gasped and blinked at him in confusion, but Inuyasha ignored her as three things captured his attention simultaneously.

One, he heard people screaming and the unmistakable shrieks of demons. Two, he smelled blood. Three, dust and debris were raining down from the ceiling. Inuyasha had a split second to grab the woman at his side and hurl them both onto the floor before part of the ceiling collapsed onto the bed.

Koi was screaming, clearly terrified as the building continued to cave in on them as Inuyasha pushed himself up onto his hands with a colorful string of curses. What the fuck—?

“Get down!” he roared and threw himself over Koi, curling himself around her to protect her as the rest of the ceiling, along with some roofing, crashed to the floor right on top of them, the window shattering as half the wall went with it. Inuyasha grunted and grit his teeth as heavy wood and stone struck his back. He felt small arms wrap around his waist, the woman beneath him curling into him and trying to make herself as small as possible, sobbing and shaking in fright.

The building was still crashing around them, crumbling to the ground as the foundation creaked and groaned, threatening to give way. The prince knew they had to get the fuck out of there before they were buried alive. Preferably now and opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of wide blue eyes staring up at him, glistening with fright-induced tears from a face gone white.

With a grunt, Inuyasha heaved and dislodged the debris pinning them down. His back would likely be bruised and sore for a while, but at least he’d been able to protect Koi.

“We need to get out of here before we’re buried,” he shouted over the din, grabbing her arm and hauling her up with him.

“What—what—” she tried, clearly in shock, wobbling where she stood, and then looked down at the floor in horror when it started creaking ominously beneath their feet.

Inuyasha ignored her. With thankfully minimal difficulty, he managed to dig out both his suikan and sword before promptly shoving both into Koi’s arms and then sweeping her up into his own. She gasped and hid her face in his shoulder as he lunged through the opening in the wall just as the entire building collapsed into ruins.

The first thing Inuyasha was aware of as he landed on the grass outside was the village was on fire. The air was thick with smoke, people screaming and crying and running as they either tried to fight off the ravaging demons or escape for their lives. He set Koi on her feet and stunned, she just stood there, gaping at the collapsed ruins of building that had been her home for the past week.

“What the fuck is going on?!” he growled when suddenly Koi gasped sharply, dropped his suikan and sword carelessly to the ground, and took off.

“Sen!” she sobbed as the other woman, also crying, ran to meet her halfway. The two threw their arms around one another in a relieved, desperate embrace.

“Inuyasha!”

The hanyou prince tore his gaze away from the women to watch his second in command jog up to him, face grim.

“Explain,” Inuyasha snapped, scowling darkly and in no mood to fuck around.

“The village is under attack,” Miroku obeyed without question, voice curt. “It’s another horde of blood demons, although this horde is the smartest we’ve come across. Fire, Inuyasha. They’re setting things on fire and blowing things up. How—”

“There’s no time,” Inuyasha cut him off, watching his men strike down demon after demon, some of them half naked, some of them completely bare, but not letting that stop them from protecting innocents. “We’ll discuss what happened later, but right now we need to destroy these vermin and put out the fires.”

Miroku nodded and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, however, the sound of his name, uttered in a shaky voice and just loud enough to be heard over the pandemonium of the village, had his gaze snapping around to land on an ashen face and wide maroon eyes.

Inuyasha followed his gaze and cursed. Sen and Koi stood a few feet away, arms wrapped around each other, and Sen was wearing Miroku’s purple suikan with nothing underneath. He exchanged a look with Miroku and nodded once. He didn’t know what happened to the Madam or the other girls, and to be honest he didn’t particularly care, but they couldn’t just leave these two here unprotected and vulnerable. Even though he hardly knew Koi, Inuyasha knew he’d never be able to forgive himself if something happened to her.

“Split the men, half on the fires, half eliminating the blood fuckers. I’ll take care of this and join you shortly.” He turned and put his fingers to his mouth before giving a sharp, shrill whistle that pierced the air for several seconds.

Miroku looked relieved and nodded once before taking off to do as he was told.

Stopping to collect his sword and suikan, Inuyasha shoved Tetsusaiga into place at his hip as he stalked toward the two women, holding each other and silently watching him approach. He could smell their fear, but it was strangely dimmed, and their confusion evident on pale faces. He didn’t miss the way Sen tried to push Koi back, obviously still protective of her and Inuyasha had to approve of that, even if it was unnecessary.

“I know you’re scared and wondering what the hell is going on,” he began and reached forward to drape his suikan over Koi’s shoulders. Her eyes widened and she flushed but said nothing, accepting it without question. “But I don’t have time to explain and if you wanna get out of here in one piece, you’re gonna have to trust me.”

Sen frowned, clearly skeptical, and she opened her mouth to say something. But then her eyes suddenly went very wide as she directed her gaze to something over his shoulder and he knew Entei had just landed behind him. Koi gasped and the look on her face was an endearing mixture of delight and awe.

“Entei will take you somewhere safe,” he explained as the large horse trotted up beside him and nudged his shoulder. “He’s not dangerous, and he does what I say without question. So when I say he’s to protect you two until I summon him back to me, he will. Understood?”

To his surprise, Koi nodded with a small smile and the fact that she trusted him already even though she barely knew him had something warm blooming in his chest. Sen, on the other hand, still looked like she was having a hard time processing everything, switching her gaze between him and Entei with a wary look on her face and biting her lip. She kept looking over her shoulder as if searching for something, and he knew she was looking for Miroku.

Inuyasha sighed, impatient, and before either of them could protest he grabbed Koi around the waist and effortlessly lifted her up onto Entei’s back. She gasped, hands fisting in his bright orange mane, and he turned to do the same thing to Sen. She went to step back but he didn’t give her the chance, snagging her around the waist and heaving her up behind Koi.

“Don’t,” he snapped when Sen looked about ready to tear him a new one, face red and brows low over her eyes. “I already said I don’t have time to argue with you, so just fucking trust me, alright? I’m trying to save your life, woman, so let me. Shut up, hang on, and don’t be scared of the fire. It won’t burn you.”

He glared her down and didn’t give her a chance to retort back. He glanced at Koi, who stared back at him with large blue eyes, before stepping back and gently slapping Entei’s rump.

“Get ‘em out of here,” he ordered and the demon horse snorted once before taking off, great hooves pounding into the dirt before giving a mighty leap and soaring into the sky. Predictably the women shrieked in surprise but Inuyasha paid them no mind, already turning around and unsheathing Tetsusaiga in the same movement. He stalked into the fray, ears pinned and scowling darkly.

He had some nasty blood demons to slaughter. 

<<Prev || Next>>

Chapter Index

#koi no yokan #12 #inukag #inuyasha #inukag fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #keizfanfiction #oh and for those of you wondering why i updated this first before the oneshot that one the poll #i already had this written #before my computer up and died on me

[blookmallow]

mined craft

i am having SUCH a bad time 

here i am.... a little cube ghost zombie thing 

uh oh

tOO FAR!!!! TOO F A R 

also you can apparently have a snowglobe for a head and thats neat (this screenshot doesnt rly capture it it like. moves and everything) 

i also have a bunch of mario skins for some reason idk if thats a switch perk or what 

apparently gravity does not happen here which is way more amusing to me than it should be 

OH FUCK THERES ZOMBIES IN THE LAKE 

I JUST WANTED TO GO FOR A SWIM I DIDNT EXPECT JASON TO BE LIVING DOWN HERE 

i found a zombie dad with a little zombie baby????? holy shit???

anyway the first thing i did was immediately build a shitty little house out of dirt 

[stanley’s narrator voice] I’M going to build a house

fuck yeah. dirt house

i then wandered off somewhere else and forgot about dirt house and i have since then never been able to find it again. somewhere in the world there is a dirt house. maybe one day i will discover it once more 

GROSS! WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS

oH!!!!! FRIEND

i LOVE how these things move.... the sporadic corner-of-your-eye slightly Wrong movement is so good 

hello!!! who are y-

OK SURE. THANKS 

then i tried making a better house out of wood this time in a cute little forest glen i found but zombies kept getting in it 

GET OUT OF THERE!!! ALSO WHY ARE YOU ON FIRE 

(i later realized i think zombies just catch fire in the sun. i dont know why they were in my house though) (it took me way, way too long to figure out how to build a fuckign dooR) 

i also briefly had a little horse thing jump in through the window and then out again so that was exciting 

anyway it sort of worked for a little while. i filled the door up with dirt at night bc i couldnt figure out how else to keep the zombies from coming in :’) but then i kept having CREEPERS BLOWING UP MY FUCKING WALL

DO NOT 

so then i came up with a NEW PLAN....

SKY HOUSE

it didnt have any walls for a bit but LETS SEE THOSE FUCKERS GET UP HERE

i just break the dirt stairs when i get up so they cant follow me  

hhhHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAA WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO NOW 

updated doorway

its still a patchwork mess of different types of wood bc i havent fixed it yet but its getting there. also i want the pumpkins to be jack o lanterns but havent figured out how to carve them yet 

its an alright house all things considered :’  ) sometimes skeletons shoot at me through the windows but eventually ill figure out how to put up glass in there 

i stole a torch from a village bc i couldnt figure out how to make one... they dont seem to have noticed me stealing from them yet but im trying not to do it toO much

it still doesnt have a roof but i kinda like it this way. i can see the stars

i might just make a glass roof once i figure out how to get glass 

i built a deck on one side (this was before i added a fence on it) with a lovely view of the waterfall (and you can see the sunset from here too) 

im hoping to eventually expand that out so theres a lake under the house (i dont think you take fall damage if you land in water? so i can just launch myself off the side if i have a pond lmao) 

#lucy plays minecraft

[reesewestonarchive]

EASTHALLOW | Masterpost | Project Page | Project Preview | ko-fi, if you like my work :p

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The car trunk sounds too final to Elijah's ears as he closes it, the last of his bags tucked in haphazard amongst his books, music. Sean stands nearby, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He's followed Elijah around like a lost puppy all night, and now that Elijah's packed, seems at a loss.

"I'm sorry--"

Elijah holds up a hand, shakes his head. "Spare me the bullshit, all right? Just..." He looks around the parking lot, at the apartment he couldn't've afforded if it weren't for Sean's income, anywhere but at Sean. "You had plenty of chances to show you gave a shit about me."

A time in the past, Elijah doesn't doubt Sean did care; you don't spend this long with someone, six years of your life, without getting a little attached. Just... he has a shitty way of showing it, and Elijah's really not interested in hearing scripted apologies from a guy that's been cheating on him for the better part of a year.

"I'll be in touch for the rest of my things."

And that's that. Sean doesn't look upset; just... resigned. Like he's been waiting for this.

Fucker. Rage boils under his skin, and Elijah grips his keys in hand. Steps to the driver's door, wrenches it open, and, as Sean says, "Elijah--", his voice edged with desperation, slams the door behind him.

The drive home is a good fifteen hours, but Elijah straight shots it, running on iced coffee and espresso shots from gas stations. His bank account's barely prepared for the trip, and for the last stretch of a hundred miles he watches his gas gauge with anxiety gnawing at a pot in his stomach, but when Elijah sees the rusted EASTHALLOW, POPULATION: 203 sign swinging from it's pole off the road, tension ebbs from his every nerve.

Fog, thick and mystical, covers the entire town, and the chill to the air has him turning up his heat for the first time all trip. Trees have already shed their leaves for the season, and the place looks entirely too fucking barren. He thinks about the bustling city he just came from, the constant chatter and noise, but if he opened his window right now, he's certain the engine of his car would be the only sound for miles.

Peaceful. Fuck, Elijah didn't know he'd missed it this much. His chest feels tight, his throat dry, as he drives through the city towards his parent's home.

The farm hasn't changed, besides a fresh coat of off-white paint and a few new shrubs lining the wrap around porch. The roof needs work, some of the shutters flap in the wind, but it's home. Sturdy and stable and standing, and Elijah, suddenly exhausted, shuts his car off, rubs his hands against his face, and just... is.

Thoughts and memories of the last six years surface in Elijah's head. How many times did he call his parents to tell them he couldn't come home for the holidays? How many times did he put Sean before his family, and for what? For Sean to bring some twink home and throw it all away, proving everyone in Elijah's life right that Sean never was going to settle down.

He pounds his fist on the wheel, honking the horn in passing, and sighs when he sees his mother standing out on the porch, no hesitation.

She waves, tugs her robe tighter around her, and rushes out across the muddied grass to his car. She bounces on her heels while he unbuckles, and launches herself into his arms, her embrace tight and loving, once he stands.

The air crushed from his lungs makes him grunt, but he says nothing, just reaches around his mother's shoulders for a hug, resting his head on top of hers.

He'd missed her. So much. "Hi, Mama," he says.

Amanda's voice is tight when she says, "Don't 'Hi, Mama,' me, Elijah Andrew. You haven't been home in five years, and you show up out of the blue like this..." She pulls back. Her eyes water as she takes him in. "Oh, you're too thin. Have you even been eating? What's city life done to you?"

Elijah offers a tight smile. "Been busy. I'm sorry I haven't been home sooner."

With a smack to his arm, she says, "That's right. You're gonna make it up to me, too." Then, she peers around him, into the car, and raises an eyebrow. Elijah's heart speeds up in his chest. "And the boy?"

He knew he'd have to tell her when he got here, but... shit, he'd rather not. The longer he can avoid the pity, the better. "About that..."

But before he can continue, movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. He grips his mother's arm in hand and tugs her close, starts to say, "Someone's over there," because he doesn't recognize them--not his father, not one of the farmhands--when his mother gives a little wave to the figure limping around the side of the house.

"Josh," she says, calling to the figure, and Elijah's not sure if he feels too hot with rage or too cold with dread, "come say hello!"

"Mama," he says, under his breath as Josh makes his way across the yard, "you didn't tell me Josh was here."

Raising an eyebrow, Amanda says, "And you didn't tell me you were coming home. Don't play games with me. I'm your mother. I'll always win."

While the rest of the town stayed the same, Josh is nothing like Elijah remembers. He's changed his hair, a bright, platinum blond so unlike the black hair of his parents. His eyes are bruised, his face gaunt. His jacket looks like it went twelve rounds with a box cutter, and Josh is, inexplicably, taller. How is he taller?

Still, he steps forward, into Elijah's space, and rests a hand on Elijah's shoulder, grips him tight, and Elijah wants nothing more than to jerk out of his grasp and punch him.

A crow caws in the distance, and Josh offers a smile--not enough and too late and Elijah shakes under the weight, the expectation of it--and Josh says, "Welcome home, bro."

///

“Is it broken?” Josh asks, his voice thick and nasally, as Amanda pokes and prods at his nose. Blood oozes down the front of his shirt.

Behind them, Elijah opens the freezer, digs out a bag of peas, and rests it against his knuckles. Amanda scowls at him.

“What a nice fucking way to greet your brother,” Josh says. “Haven’t seen you in ten years. Least you could do is not punch me in the face.”

Still, Elijah says nothing. Flexes his fingers under the peas, shaking, and exhales with relief. Not broken. It’s been a while since he last decked someone. He definitely made some fucking mistakes. “Rich, coming from you.”

“Will you two stop it?”

Josh points Elijah’s way, then says, his voice taking on an amusing whine as he says, “He started it!”

Opening his mouth to retort, Elijah pauses as he hears the back screen door creak open. “Thought I heard yelling,” someone says, and—

Oh. Elijah drops his gaze to the floor, because—he’d meant to call his father. Text him, something. But the farther west he got, the more anxiety that pooled in his stomach at the idea of his father’s disappointed gaze.

Elijah’s not good with disappointment.

“Get into another fight with a bull, Josh?” his father asks; he still hasn’t noticed Elijah, leaning against the counter next to the fridge, shrinking in on himself. Amanda, at least, called. Elijah hasn’t spoken to his father since the day he left.

Josh scoffs. “Yeah fucking right,” and silence falls over the room. Elijah’s heart thumps in his throat, his ears, and he lifts his gaze, looks right into his father’s eyes.

“I’ll be damned,” Allan says, his voice soft as he shrugs his jacket off at the dining table. “Elijah."

His mouth opens on an apology, but Allan steps forward, with such intensity that Elijah'd back up, if he had anywhere to go. His tongue trips on words he should've said years ago, his fingers twitch, and he can see Josh and Amanda watching with wide eyes. Allan isn't scary, and there's no reason to be, but Elijah still shakes in his sneakers like he's bracing for impact.

But when Allan touches him, it's not with a fist, how Elijah had greeted his estranged brother, but with arms around his shoulders. Allan holds him tighter than Amanda had, and the bag of peas clatter to the floor as Elijah reaches up to grab at his father's overshirt.

Behind them, Josh mutters, "You've gotta be fucking kidding me. Dad welcomes him home with open arms?"

"You came home sick with withdrawal, Joshua," Amanda says, finally stepping back from her son. Quiet, Allan pulls away, wipes his eyes with the careful practice of a man who cries, and tries not to show it, and claps a hand on Elijah's shoulder before stepping back to the entry way to take his boots off.

He can't know, but Elijah's not convinced he doesn't know, somehow. Why he's here. Why he didn't call.

While Amanda and Josh argue, Elijah pocks the peas up and sets them back in the freezer, and heads upstairs.

His room sits at the end of the hall--or it did, when he left for the city. The floorboards creak under his feet, and the joints in his hand protest as he carries his bag, but he goes through, admiring the photographs on the wall as he goes. The year his soccer team made it to semi-finals. The year he and Josh were in boy scouts. Josh and his junior prom date.

They still looked identical, then, before Josh hit heroin hard, before he got his girlfriend pregnant and skipped town. Before he started bleaching his hair, before the piercings and the scars from tattoos and laser removal.  Before rehab, and relapse.

The years have been kinder to Elijah that they've been to Josh. Elijah might've worked ten hour shifts on his feet four nights a week, but stress found ways to gain weight where being a druggie turned Josh into skin and bones.

He rubs his forehead. Things used to be so much fucking easier.

"Walk down memory lane?" Josh says, grinning, as he meets Elijah at the end of the hallway. A nice, purple bruise grows on the bridge of his nose. Pride swells in Elijah's chest, seeing his handiwork. Another punch might break it. Elijah's got the muscle memory for it fresh in his mind, now.

"Fuck off," Elijah says, his voice more tired than he'd intended. If luck sides with him, Allan will save grilling him for tomorrow morning, and Elijah can spend the night tossing and turning, anxious about it.

"You don't have to be so mean," Josh says.

Elijah pushes past him, into his bedroom, and...

It's different. Not entirely, but his once overly-large room has been crammed to one side, his twin bed sitting against one wall, his desk at the end of it. Across the room, under the window, there's another bed. Messy, clothes piled on it from the closet, and--

"No." Elijah's voice goes hard, edged with anger. He just wants to sleep, and if Josh is doing fuck all across the room, there's no way he'll get any rest. He'd rather sleep in his car. "No fucking way."

"Come on, bro," Josh says, but his eyes are twinkling. Bastard knows just how to get under Elijah's skin. "It'll be just like old times. We can stay up all night watching horror movies and eating junk food!"

Elijah rubs his free hand over his face. Contemplates actually sleeping in his car, just for a second, before his neck starts to ache. Sharing his childhood room with his twin--honestly. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"You wanna explain that to mom?"

"Mom already knows we hate each other," Elijah says, surprised to see the quick flinch that passes Josh's face. "Would she really be so surprised to hear I can't stand to look at you, much less sleep in the same room?"

A beat passes, and Elijah knows he should apologize, but Josh shrugs and backs into his room. "Fine, little brother," he says, and oh, fuck him. "Sleep well."

The lock clicks into place as he shuts the door, and Elijah means to make his way back downstairs when a chill runs down his arms, either side. A quick glance at the window shows it's open, but--

There's... something out there. Elijah squints down at it, opens his mouth and takes a deep breath. He means to call for his father, let him know one of the cattle got loose, when he looks closer, and--

It's not cattle. It's not--hell, Elijah doesn't know what it is. He blinks his eyes a few times, watching the black figure make its way across the yard, slow, slow step by slow step. It pauses, about halfway to the treeline, and peers around the yard, but Elijah ducks back into the shadows to watch, and it continues on its way in short, jerky, inhuman movements towards the trees. Twice the size of a human, hunched over, and Elijah can't make out features, not well, but...

What the fuck? He blinks, once, twice, three times. Closes his eyes tight and opens them and--oh.

It's gone. No trace of it. Elijah turns the crank on the window, presses his ear to the screen, but... not a sound. Just the wind rustling leaves across the ground.

A chill spreads across Elijah's back. He's exhausted. He's got seventeen hours of car on him, and ten hours of packing before then, interspersed with arguing with Sean, and..

"Shut the window, Elijah, what're you thinking?"

Amanda stands at the top of the stairs, her head cocked to the side. Elijah closes and locks the crank, clearing his throat.

"Sorry, just..." He makes a vague gesture. How does he even begin to explain what he saw? "Thought I saw one of the cows wandering the yard."

Scowling, Amanda starts to head back downstairs. "I told your father he needed to repair that fence. We'll go out and check on it, make sure. You just get some rest."

Elijah's arm shoots out, though, and grabs her wrist. She raises her eyebrows and says, "Elijah, what has gotten into you?"

"Sorry, Mama," he says, and turns back to the window. Still clear. "Just... my eyes playing tricks on me, is all."

"You sure you don't want Dad to check?"

Elijah shakes his head. No. Fuck no. Assuming, for a second, that thing was real, Elijah doesn't want his father anywhere near it.

His mother's gaze is piercing, right through his soul, and for the first time, Elijah's relief at being home turns sour. "No. Look, Mama, I'm sure it's the drive. I'm just tired, is all." He presses a quick kiss to the side of her head. Ice crawls down his neck, with his back to the window, but he can't do much about it. He says, "Josh has my room?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, sweetie. We turned the other into a craft room." She at least looks a little ashamed. "You're welcome to the air mattress."

It sounds pretty good, but the idea of a couch, ready to go, sounds even better. So much for sleeping in his car--he'd rather not awaken with nightmares of that... thing scraping at his window.

His car. That's what he should've done. Hit the panic button on his keys, scare the thing. Elijah could've really found out if he was just making shit up.

"Can I sleep on the couch?" He shrugs, tries not to crumple under his mother's gaze. "Just... prefer sleeping alone."

The moment Amanda finally rolls her eyes seems to come too slow, and Elijah exhales a shaky breath. "Fine. Don't come crying to me when Josh wakes you up at five in the morning to go running, though." Her expression softens, and she reaches out to brush her fingers against Elijah's cheek. "I'm so glad you're home."

He smiles, small and sad, and grabs her wrist in hand. "Me too, Mama."

"How long will you be staying?"

With a laugh, Elijah says, "How long will you have me?"

"You weren't laid off, were you?"

Ouch. It shouldn't hurt, but it does. "No, no, I just had to cash in on some PTO before year end." The lie burns his tongue, a sharp spark against his teeth. If Amanda catches him, she doesn't show it.

"Hm. Maybe through the holidays, then."

He nods. "Yeah, 'course."

She stands on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the top of his head. "I missed you so much, Elijah. It's just not the same without you here." Her voice is sad, but when she pulls back, she's smiling. "Farmer's market in the morning. Eight thirty."

He grimaces. Knows he should agree, but what comes out of his mouth is, "Mom, I hate farmer's markets. Isn't there--"

"No buts about it, Elijah. You owe your mother how many years of day trips and quality time?" She turns on her heel. "Eight thirty. Good night."

His father's asleep in the front room, downstairs, the television blaring late night talk shows. A low rumble sounds from the chair, probably the massage function, and there are ice packs on Allan's shoulder. Still, he looks comfortable, so Elijah only turns down the television a few notches, drapes a blanket over his father's lap, and makes his way toward the family room.

The family room houses the biggest window in the house, too. Elijah makes up the couch with blankets from the storage trunk, one eye on the window, but all he can see are dog slobbers on the outside. No dog, either, no bed, no bowl.

The neighbor's then, or his father's insistence on no animals in the house still applies to man's best friend.

His joints crack as he crawls onto the couch and buries his head into the pillows. Exhaustion burrows into his bones and he sighs, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. His clothes smell like the fried food he'd picked up on his trip home, like gasoline from when he'd spilled it, and Amanda had been kind enough not to mention it.

Twenty four hours ago, he was sleeping curled up under Sean's arm, stressed but happy, and look at him now. Homeless, unemployed.

Hell. If that thing out there wanted to eat him, Elijah'd welcome it with open arms.

#easthallow #my writing #excited vibrating #sorry mobile

[lettythepetty]

“You always comfort me. Let me comfort you.” !!!! 👀

Prompt: "You always comfort me. Let me comfort you."

((Sorry for the wait!!))

It was a rather boring afternoon. Reymond; Philip (actually, he slept halfway through the movie, but he was awake when we started); The moron, and I, were just watching shitty movies to pass time; but even I who's pretty much insomniac, almost couldn't stay with my eyes open for more than 6 seconds (and yes, i was bored enough to actually count the seconds my eyes would be open).

I yawned, and for a moment I thought I would give up to sleep but then,

"Shut the hell up, Sean! Damn-" The moron yelled at me from the floor and startled me awake.

"Choke, Mordu. Choke right now."

"Don't fight, you guys." Reymond advised, lazily, almost like it was an obligation for him to say this. For someone hyperactive, he was probably more bored than us, and it was killing him. He slid down the couch, "Let's just be friends, and.. Whatever."

"This fucker you call brother is being noisy!"

"Mrhm... Language, Mordu..." A sleepy Philip mumbled from my right.

I rolled my eyes. Having to be around Mordu has always been a headache anyway, but now I was even more bothered for having someone in mind.

I took my phone from my pocket and looked down at the hours on it, almost letting out a sigh; "It's been a while now..." I thought, before rolling my eyes and putting it back, "Come on, chill out, Sean. I'm starting to be way too needy of him. There's not even anything between us, this is bullshi-"

Suddenly, there was the sound of keys unlocking a door from behind our ears. My eyes widened in alarm and I whipped my head around in a heartbeat, already knowing exactly who it was.

"Finally." I thought, and obviously a smile appeared on the corner of my lips.

"Chris!" Reymond cheered, almost jumping from the couch with energy. Which startled me, because I forgot how fast he can go from 0 to a 100.

"Wh- what? Chris is back?" And Philip was now awake.

"Ah great- did he bring food? There's nothing good to eat 'round here." Mordu obviously cared a lot, as you can see.

"Welcome back dude!" Reymond welcomed, how come his bored and lazy tone became so energetic so fast?

I heard Chris sighing as he closed the door and locked it again, "Thanks." And I frowned, because that tone of voice... Wasn't good. At all.

"How was the hangout with Mr Marsh?" Philip asked.

He shrugged, still with his back turned to us, "It was... It was really great. Um..." again, the tone of his voice. Not only it was way quieter, but it was also kind of trembly. You know, like when you're about to cry.

My frown creased even deeper, "Oh no..." i thought.

"We were just waiting for you to start playing UNO, dude. We didn't want to start without you." Reymond said, raising the card deck to show him.

He finally turned around, but made as little eye contact as possible. "I- um- yeah, that's uh- that's great! But... Just give me a moment, I need some time... To myself now." He was having such difficulty with talking. Breathing in between words, it was like he was about to have a breakdown right then and there. Believe me when I say that I... I know these things.

"Are you ok?" I asked, pretty much making the million dollar question.

He finally raised his head and made straight eye contact with me, but stayed silent for a few seconds; and the look on his face... He was frowning, and his eyes were sparkling more than usual. Those were tears doing their work, i just know it. And yet, he still put a smile on his face, the type that doesn't reach the eyes, and said, "Yes. I'm fine."

"..."

"I'll be in my room if you guys need me, ok?" He assured everyone before going upstairs and closing the door.

"..."

The silence stayed.

Reymond, Philip and I stared at each other for a few seconds, and as far as we knew we all caught the memo that something was off, until,

"Yeesh! Sounds like Christopher is Sadstopher again-"

"Mordu!" Reymond and Philip said, while I just glared at him and fought to urge to kick him as hard as I could.

"What? It's true!"

"Welp," Reymond started, "who's going to risk talking to-"

"Me." I got up and went straight upstairs.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Once I got to his room, the door was closed, so I leaned in and rest my ear on it to see if I could hear anything, but it was all silent.

Toc toc. I knocked on his door.

"Chris?"

No response.

"Chris, can I... Can I come in? Please?"

"Uhh...!" His voice started nervously, and after a few seconds he said, "Yeah! Come in."

I opened the door carefuly and he was sitting at the start of the bed, staring at the window, with the pillow on his lap.

I swallowed in dry, "Are you... Really ok?"

No response.

"Do you want to talk about how the hangout with your dad really went?"

No response.

I frowned as I started scratching the back of my head, "Do you... Just want to talk to me? In general?"

Yet again, silence.

I sighed and let my shoulders fall, "Please, Chris. I know something's wrong. You gotta talk to me."

"I'm fine, really-"

"Don't lie, I know it's not. Same way you know when i'm not."

"..."

"You always comfort me." I started, "Let me comfort you."

He finally turned his face towards me, and slowly raised his gaze to stare at me in the eyes. Those emerald green eyes... Always so innocent and so soft... Were now so sad, and sparkling so much with tears, that it gave shivers down my spine and made me forget whatever I was about to say next. "You can stay." He said.

And so I sat down next to him. Respecting his space, though. I didn't think he was fully sure that he really wanted me there with him looking as fragile as he was.

"So...? How was it?"

"Awful. It was awful." He finally admitted, in a voice as sorrowful and dissapointed as ever. "To him it was great, but I was hating it."

"Go on." I encouraged softly.

"I-" he sniffed and quickly wiped away the tears from his eyes, "At first I thought it would be nice, like, just me and him hanging out at the park's lake as we always did when I was little, but... But then he..."

"I'm listening."

"Then he just started... Being horrible!" He cried, "Saying how much 'i'm not meeting his expectations even though i'm 19 already so I should be', and all of those expectations involve me getting a wife, and pretty much changing myself completely to meet his shitty standards!"

I frowned, "C- Calm down." and put my hand on his back as a way to comfort him, "What are his standards?"

"He wants to shape me up like a man! A real man! A man that doesn't cry, a man that doesn't hug his friends, a man that doesn't play piano because it's 'too feminine' and just go find 'something more masculine to do' such as engange in... Being a cop! Like he was! But I don't want any of that!"

I stared at the floor for a moment, "Hm..."

"It's unfair what you do with me and Reymond! You can't just force us to wear and act however you want! I don't want any of that!"

"You are my son! And while you're living under my roof you'll do whatever I want!" I remembered. A crocked memory, really, a memory that always made me sick to my stomach, but I did knew exactly how he was feeling.

"I know he doesn't do it with the intention of hurting me..." He started, bringing my attention back to him. "But it does! Because he- he just wants me to be something that I'll never be able to be-! And... I just... don't feel like I'll ever 'fit the mold'... you know?"

He covered his face with his hands and started to cry again, and with each sob it just made me hurt even more. Not only because I can't stand to see him cry, but also because it was almost like a perfectly mirrored image of myself before.

I got closer to him and put my arm over his shoulder.

"Chris, look- I know how you feel, ok? I've been there. My dad always pushed his standards into me and Reymond after mom died, and... It was awful. It really was. And I knew i wouldn't follow those and didn't care for what he thought, but... You don't think that way, do you?"

"I don't want to be a failure..."

"I know. I know you care a lot about what your parents think, but you can't live how they want you to live, you know? This will mess you up. And I know you told me that your dad doesn't do it with the intention of hurting you, and maybe you're right, but... Just because he's your father and is not straight up yelling at you to change doesn't mean he's right."

He slowly uncovered his face to look at me with sorrowful eyes, "Wh- what?"

"I'm trying to say that he shouldn't be telling you that you need to change when you don't. Because that's wrong. And you shouldn't worry about changing for him because you know what I say..."

"Changing yourself for someone else is a bad idea." he recited to himself.

A smile appeared on the corner of my lips, "Yes, and you're not your father, Chris. You don't need to 'shape up to be a real man' because you already are a real man. Crying, being kind, playing piano, all of these are things men can do. So you're not any less of a man for doing so. You're just different from what his definition of being a man is, but you're still one nonetheless."

I could finally see that true, innocent little smile of his appearing again. God, it warms my heart everytime.

"In fact, I even think that the fact that you're so different that makes your friends like so you much." I looked at him again, and perhaps I just wanted to give him all my love right then and there, "Including me. So please... Never change."

That smile, that's the one that reaches the eyes. Even more so because he was doing that thing, that beautiful thing of 'smiling with the eyes', which I don't think he even realizes he does it, but I do, and it's beautiful.

"Do you... want a hug?" I asked, reluctant about it, since he just cried over his father complaining about him giving hugs too.

"Yeah... I could use a hug," and then he hugged me first.

My eyes widened a little, but then I just gave in and wrapped my arms around him too. I just wanted to shield him from whatever bad thing could reach him, honestly.

"It's ok, i'm here now. I... Don't know if it makes any difference but-"

"It does, it really does." He assured me, "Sean... Thank you for being here..." He clung to my hoodie and buried his face into my shoulder, and for a moment, the trembly voice was back, "Thank you."

I hugged him tighter, "You're welcome."

"I always will be here for you, just like you are always for me." I thought.

#Hope you like it!! Again i'm really sorry for the wait hah... #it will come quicker next time 😅❤ #Ronnie #Chris and Sean #asks #my writing #my ocs #my oc stuff

[erregent]

( under a readmore cause it’s long.

i guess??? this is the start to a gavcentric redemption fic with some ree.d900 on the side. i have maybe three more chapters planned out but i haven’t finished it yet. )

--------

they’re probably going to put on his tombstone ‘dumb shit.’ 

nothing else. no date of birth, mother’s name, none of that. just, here lies a dumb fucker. 

laying on his back in a wet alleyway, struggling for breath around the blood in his mouth, gavin reed thinks it’s probably for the best. 

he was supposed to call for backup but since when the fuck has he ever needed backup? no partner necessary, he may be shit at office work but out here, in the field, was where he got his kicks. a perp wanted to bust out the third story window and try to outrun him on the fire escape? good. 

gavin was not far behind, huffing around smokers lungs but spite was enough to keep his legs moving, keep the high teen in his sights as he darts up stairs one more floor to the roof of the apartment building. 

“that’s enough, kid,” he remembers saying, training his gun at the perp’s back as he contemplates jumping off, “there’s nowhere to go.”

“i can’t--- can’t go to prison, i can’t---” he was high, confused. just a fucking teenager. for some reason gavin thinks of the boy’s mother. where she was now, and if she knew what her boy was doing. did she even care.

he couldn’t tell you why, but he remembers putting his gun away. offering up both hands empty like some sort of peace offering.

“you can still get out of this alright, don’t be fuckin’ stupid. just turn around, and get over here.”

“they’ll kill me! they’ll kill me...i can’t--- no, nono--” 

“who’s they? talk to me, kid, i can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

the kid eventually turns around. wet tear tracks on both cheeks, snot dribbling over lips, and hands clutching a beretta.

gavin didn’t have time to say a word before hearing the pow pow of gunfire. 

choking, gasping, he knows he’s shot before he even looks down but when he does, the world spins, and he’s falling over the ledge.

shoulder catches the edge of the fire-escape, shattered. body rag-doll, he manages to land on his back just so he could graciously choke on his own blood. 

so yea, he’s a dumb shit. he didn’t even call for backup. 

you try to do something nice, and it gets you shot twice in the chest. 

-----

somehow, he wakes up. 

he has no idea when, but he wakes up. 

the harsh lighting, the stale sick smell, the soft ‘beepbeepbeep’ lets him know he’s in a hospital. it’s not the first time he’s woken up in one and the detective doubts it will be the last. but this is certainly the first time he can hardly move once consciousness returns to him. 

everything hurts. literally everything, even the follicles of his hair feel sore in his head, and he’s hovering somewhere between drugged beyond recognition and not nearly doped enough to withstand the discomfort. 

all he can manage is a low groan of pain, flexing fingers to see which ones work and which don’t. 

his entire left arm is casted, gavin can barely turn his head enough to see the thing, it goes up to his chest where gauze springs from underneath. it’s wrapped tight, tight around his torso and down to his navel, though gavin can’t see past the sheet thats been brought up to his armpits. he’s sewed up, tucked in, and left here. 

“detective,” a voice calls from the doorway. at least he gets his own room. 

the soft glowing LED in the nurses temple under blond curls would have made gavin scoff if he weren’t so broken. he groans again. a fuckin’ android. he forgets they’re allowed to do whatever they want now, regardless of model and make. 

“please try not to move so much. honestly, i’m surprised you’re awake. you’ve only been out of surgery for three hours, your body is still adjusting to the changes,” she’s rummaging through a virtual clipboard, the skin on her hand peeling back to interface with it directly. 

“you took two gun shot wounds to the torso. one made a clear shot, it hit nothing vital. the other punctured a lung and broke one of your ribs. your shoulder and arm were shattered from impact after you fell, and required extensive surgery and reconstruction to repair. do you remember where you were before here, detective?”

gavin groans. his mouth tastes like sandpaper and actual, literal asshole. it’s too dry, he rolls his tongue around but it feels two sizes too big. he manages to croak out “case,” and not sound totally out of it, to his defense.

“yes, we were informed by your department you were chasing a suspect. though i am not authorized to talk to you about legal matters, i just need to confirm your mental faculties are still in order. you fell almost three stories, detective. the only reason your skull was not crushed on impact was the loss of momentum your body sustained hitting the fire escape on your way down.”

he manages a scoff this time. guess he’s lucky for the shattered bones.

“what is your name?”

another noise, he grinds teeth around the ‘g’ sound.

“g...avin. reed.” 

“yes, that’s very good. i have more questions for you, and you willneed a debriefing, but you still need rest,” she’s coming to his bedside then, futzing with the fancy IV machine whirring away there. she hits a few buttons, pumps him full of morphine, and suddenly gavin feels really warm and he wants to sleep.

he does. 

-----

it’s the first time in twelve years, gavin sleeps longer than two hour increments. 

the next few days come in blinks, and trying to keep track of time is utterly useless. there’s a potted plant at his bedside one time he opens his eyes. a succulent, some weird desert lookin thing and he knows it’s chen. he likes this kind, barely have to do shit to keep it alive. he passes out trying to move his arm to touch it.

the next time he’s awake, there’s flowers. a single arrangement, freshly pruned peace lilies harsh white like his whole fuckin’ room with a little blue ‘k’ on an equally white card in the middle. if he could, he’d knock the whole thing off on principle. fuckin prick.

the third time he can actually remember anything, he’s sitting up more. that same blond nurse is back, checking about his vitals and tidying the room. there’s not much to do, even in his haze gavin can tell there has been little traffic here. the detective isn’t shocked by the notion. he’s not known to have friends. 

he’s awake for more than fifteen minutes this time, and gavin knows what to expect. a half hour into consciousness, one of his own is buzzing into his room. he’s expecting chen, maybe anderson if the captain wanted to let the old man gloat. he’s not expecting fowler himself to walk through the door.

his gut plummets like a shitty wooden roller coaster at the sight of him. dark blue button up. black slacks. badge at his hip. but no clip board, no pen. he’s not here to talk about the case.

“reed,” fowler begins, hands in his pockets as he walks toward the large window to gavin’s left. it’s hard to turn his head that way, considering his shoulder was in pieces not long ago, but he manages to get the man in his peripheral. 

the silence that follows is maddening. gavin wants to claw his god damn skin off. 

“fowl-”

“you could have died, reed. you very well should have.”

“i had it under con-”

“if you try to undermine what this is, so help me.” perhaps it’s just the morphine, but gavin swears fowler’s hands are shaking in his pockets.

“listen. you’re a good detective, gavin. you and i both know that. it’s why i wanted you back on the force after the whole android awakening,” fowler has finally turned to face him now though stays by the window. his voice is level, but terse. he feels like he’s being scolded by his father.

“you bitched and moaned about what cases you wanted, you bitched and moaned when i brought in the other rk unit, and you bitched and moaned when i tried to pair you with him. for months. and i’ve listened because you got results. i don’t give a shit if you’re everybody’s best friend, so long as you do the job and you don’t get yourself killed. but you fucked up big time, reed. and i can’t have it happen again.”

“captain-”

“you are not dying under my watch, gavin. you hear me? not because of your inflated ego and some shitty pride!” 

gavin swallows at the tone of fowler’s voice, would have flinched back if he could. for once in his miserable fucking life, the detective agrees, and nods.

“yea. yea i hear you.” he hates how weak he sounds. he’ll blame it on the fatigue.

the tenseness fowler carried in his jaw loosens some. shoulders slack. gavin can see the clenched fists in his pockets ease. he’s said the right thing. gavin wasn’t made a detective for nothing. 

“good. cause you’re getting a partner when you get out of here, and i’m not hearing another word out of you about it.”

ok, so he’s not fired. that’s awesome. but...fuck. he doesn’t even have the energy to ask who. he likes to think he’d be all teeth and gums about this, being the squeakiest wheel he can be to get the grease, if he weren’t still in recovery. 

“get some rest. we’ll interview about the suspect when you’re not drugged off you ass,” his captain makes to leave, but stops by the doorway just to shoot gavin a rarely seen, but always infuriating smirk, “should probably keep you on it, though. you’re a lot nicer when you can’t bark.”

fowler leaves. 

gavin, through grit teeth and optimal discomfort, manages to knock the peace lilies off the table.

#( OOC. ) #fic stuff #reference / / #no one #has to read this #but here it is anyway #also i know its a small mention #but this is under the hc that #kamski and gav are related #but its...hard to tell #it will come up more later in the story

[reesewestonarchive]

The car trunk sounds too final to Elijah's ears as he closes it, the last of his bags tucked in haphazard amongst his books, music. Sean stands nearby, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He's followed Elijah around like a lost puppy all night, and now that Elijah's packed, seems at a loss.

"I'm sorry--"

Elijah holds up a hand, shakes his head. "Spare me the bullshit, all right? Just..." He looks around the parking lot, at the apartment he couldn't've afforded if it weren't for Sean's income, anywhere but at Sean. "You had plenty of chances to show you gave a shit about me."

A time in the past, Elijah doesn't doubt Sean did care; you don't spend this long with someone, six years of your life, without getting a little attached. Just... he has a shitty way of showing it, and Elijah's really not interested in hearing scripted apologies from a guy that's been cheating on him for the better part of a year.

"I'll be in touch for the rest of my things."

And that's that. Sean doesn't look upset; just... resigned. Like he's been waiting for this.

Fucker. Rage boils under his skin, and Elijah grips his keys in hand. Steps to the driver's door, wrenches it open, and, as Sean says, "Elijah--", his voice edged with desperation, slams the door behind him.

The drive home is a good fifteen hours, but Elijah straight shots it, running on iced coffee and espresso shots from gas stations. His bank account's barely prepared for the trip, and for the last stretch of a hundred miles he watches his gas gauge with anxiety gnawing at a pot in his stomach, but when Elijah sees the rusted EASTHALLOW, POPULATION: 203 sign swinging from it's pole off the road, tension ebbs from his every nerve.

Fog, thick and mystical, covers the entire town, and the chill to the air has him turning up his heat for the first time all trip. Trees have already shed their leaves for the season, and the place looks entirely too fucking barren. He thinks about the bustling city he just came from, the constant chatter and noise, but if he opened his window right now, he's certain the engine of his car would be the only sound for miles.

Peaceful. Fuck, Elijah didn't know he'd missed it this much. His chest feels tight, his throat dry, as he drives through the city towards his parent's home.

The farm hasn't changed, besides a fresh coat of off-white paint and a few new shrubs lining the wrap around porch. The roof needs work, some of the shutters flap in the wind, but it's home. Sturdy and stable and standing, and Elijah, suddenly exhausted, shuts his car off, rubs his hands against his face, and just... is.

Thoughts and memories of the last six years surface in Elijah's head. How many times did he call his parents to tell them he couldn't come home for the holidays? How many times did he put Sean before his family, and for what? For Sean to bring some twink home and throw it all away, proving everyone in Elijah's life right that Sean never was going to settle down.

He pounds his fist on the wheel, honking the horn in passing, and sighs when he sees his mother standing out on the porch, no hesitation.

She waves, tugs her robe tighter around her, and rushes out across the muddied grass to his car. She bounces on her heels while he unbuckles, and launches herself into his arms, her embrace tight and loving, once he stands.

The air crushed from his lungs makes him grunt, but he says nothing, just reaches around his mother's shoulders for a hug, resting his head on top of hers.

He'd missed her. So much. "Hi, Mama," he says.

Amanda's voice is tight when she says, "Don't 'Hi, Mama,' me, Elijah Andrew. You haven't been home in five years, and you show up out of the blue like this..." She pulls back. Her eyes water as she takes him in. "Oh, you're too thin. Have you even been eating? What's city life done to you?"

Elijah offers a tight smile. "Been busy. I'm sorry I haven't been home sooner."

With a smack to his arm, she says, "That's right. You're gonna make it up to me, too." Then, she peers around him, into the car, and raises an eyebrow. Elijah's heart speeds up in his chest. "And the boy?"

He knew he'd have to tell her when he got here, but... shit, he'd rather not. The longer he can avoid the pity, the better. "About that..."

But before he can continue, movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. He grips his mother's arm in hand and tugs her close, starts to say, "Someone's over there," because he doesn't recognize them--not his father, not one of the farmhands--when his mother gives a little wave to the figure limping around the side of the house.

"Josh," she says, calling to the figure, and Elijah's not sure if he feels too hot with rage or too cold with dread, "come say hello!"

"Mama," he says, under his breath as Josh makes his way across the yard, "you didn't tell me Josh was here."

Raising an eyebrow, Amanda says, "And you didn't tell me you were coming home. Don't play games with me. I'm your mother. I'll always win."

While the rest of the town stayed the same, Josh is nothing like Elijah remembers. He's changed his hair, a bright, platinum blond so unlike the black hair of his parents. His eyes are bruised, his face gaunt. His jacket looks like it went twelve rounds with a box cutter, and Josh is, inexplicably, taller. How is he taller?

Still, he steps forward, into Elijah's space, and rests a hand on Elijah's shoulder, grips him tight, and Elijah wants nothing more than to jerk out of his grasp and punch him.

A crow caws in the distance, and Josh offers a smile--not enough and too late and Elijah shakes under the weight, the expectation of it--and Josh says, "Welcome home, bro."

#easthallow #my writing #>_> #writeblr