gotdam.

ready for some sitcom esque forced marriage on a war torn planet hijinks.

[crimsonmoonwalk]

me wife || dave || junko

[despairesque-blog]

     No sooner had she sent the ring pop flying with a sudden kick did her foot return properly to its previous position, crossed over her other elegantly. Presenting something like that to a high class model— no amount of imagination could make up for that sheer insincerity. Not that it mattered; the chances he could even provide for this makeshift family were probably no where near her league, and truthfully, she would want it no other way. If he could make his own independent money, she had no qualms, but she would see to their child’s need personally. The more dependence shifted in her direction, the better.

     Elbow propped atop her crossed knee, her hand delicately provided a platform for her visage as fingers drummed lightly against her cheek. What would he know about aesthetics, honestly, he wore shades that disguised eyes of the most beautiful, artificial hue! Fortunately, this world seemed remarkably understanding of even the most bizarre people; as it should be given its responsibility in dragging such into this dimension. Still, although disguises would not ever have to be worn, that did not excuse blatantly awful style; she’d have to do something about their public appearances later.

     Chill? A natural response, she supposed. Not that the suggestion would be followed simply because he wished it. He had certainly been tolerant of her antics however, so she’ll forgive the modest demand for now.

     ”Hm? I couldn’t help it, you know. I mean, you really reminded me of someone—” who’d done horrific things while twisted around her finger, “—I miss sooo much!”

     Her head canted then, blonde locks swaying over her expression before she toyed neatly with one strand. “You have someone you miss too, don’t you? Unless you’re too cool to have friends and family, I could see that, too.” Her smile widens kindly, the opposite of her intentions. She noted then how cute it was to see him sit so respectably beneath her and leaned forward just the slightest bit more.

     ”Dave.. right? Dave-kun, I guess? Tell me about your world a little! There’s no way you’re from mine.” She’d have been recognized in a heartbeat. “Couples need to know everything about each other, afterall!

[crimsonmoonwalk]

wow, underestimating your perfectly capable husband sure is rude, junko, especially when he’s the exact opposite of your beliefs. he and his bro provided more than enough to their PENTHOUSE (yeah, a penthouse, punk) to live a comfortably ironic lifestyle, and most of it was thanks to their strangely profitable comics and dick puppets, wow, what a life they had lived. but sure, it was fine if junko wanted him to be a humble stay-at-home dad that cooks wearing nothing but an apron with a big smile on his face at seven in the morning, watching soap operas and crying while he waited for his businesswoman wife to return to him. hell, that was probably something he even dreamed about once. a real life sugardaddy. it was about time.

damn, you’re really going all out on dissing dave in your thoughts, bruh. his clothing isn’t that bad compared to their pain-inducing neon hues that some possibly colorblind citizens had decided to rock, and if you really wanted to have a change of perspective and become less-narrow minded, just go to hot topic and be relieved that dave isn’t sporting a spiked collar that color-coordinates with a trollface shirt. and these eyes ain’t fake, honey. they’re as real as the blood of your enemies.

thank god dave was such a laid-back guy, because otherwise he’d be out the door and jogging to the nearest dumpster to hide in by now, and to be quite honest being covered in garbage isn’t a good luck for him, but maybe it was preferable to being extremely and intimately close to who is definitely a patrick bateman-esque murderer. if he walks in one day and sees the couch wrapped in newspaper with a certain song involving squares playing in the background, he’s fucking out.

“let me guess, their body is probably buried out back with their teeth and finger nails hidden in a concealed compartment in your closet that when falsely activated releases a toxic cloud of designer perfume?” oh, junko, you two know each other so well.

he cocked an eyebrow at her strangely… normal smalltalk. his world, huh? sadly it would not receive and equally boring answer back, because dave’s planet was weird as fuck. “my planet is weird as fuck. like, earth itself is weird as fuck already thanks to the fuckload of unique and quirky residents of the ecosystem we’re fuckin’ up with big-ass overcompensating hummers and trucks DESIGNED to make your og dick look huuuuge. but that’s not even the worse part. the world  completely went extinct thanks to the famous spaghetti drought of ’98, and after a few harsh years of italian turfwar, angsty alien jesus descended from the spaghetti-less clouds and claimed ‘let there be spaghetti… after you sign these terms and conditions.’ i was spaghet-nourished at the time, so the pasta-sauce in my brain had no equalizer, making me dumb as fuck, and i signed it, except the contract included me getting sucked into a sadist’s favorite new version of the sims and i had to beat the shit outta some fedora-clad dude to get my spaghetti, and right before i was about to take my first strand-sucking finger-lickin’ bite of it, my eyes all glazed over in spaghecstasy, i got taken here and auctioned off to a hot murderer. thanks so much. okay, my turn. first question: what's your body count? animals don't count, plus if i hear that you've killed an animal this marriage is over.”

[crimsonmoonwalk]

me wife || dave || junko

[despairesque-blog]

     How disgustingly amusing he was once impatience caught up to dig right into his attitude and lace irritation between his words. A haughty smile remained glued to her features, all daggers pointed in her direction embraced regardless of whether they were blatantly aimed or hidden behind passive-aggression. More than becoming further offended, she was perfectly charmed by this learning experience that was toying with her spouse and kicking first impressions to the curb.

     Because that’s precisely what it amounted to— playing. Testing, even; an experiment! Despite what may have been seen as honesty in revealing her fickle character, there was actually very little confessed that was meant. It’s truly some miracle that the other blond managed to muster the strength required to stay in the same room as her without being backed by life-threatening circumstances, nevermind resorting to violence. Just in being humored did her heart beat ever faster, and she dared to allow herself to hope that fun could be had in this defeated world destroyed by war before she’d had the chance to affect it personally.

     The urge to laugh in disbelief was restrained at the mentions of serial murderers and methods of killing, the nostalgia provided by such (not-so) casual phrases igniting her fair share of pleasant plots. Were they playing the foreshadowing game already? He was so much sharper than he let on! But what had utterly topped her despairing trip down memory lane had been inadvertently completed solely by his doing what she’d asked— kneeling.

     It’s through that action that she’d managed to glimpse into eyes redder than blood, adrenaline surging at the reminder of another who’d once fallen under her influence just at the sight. Scarcely believing fate would play her this way, the love she held for those who’d once allied with senseless destruction caused her figure to shudder with an enriching nausea. 

     ”Huhuhuhu—” Repulsive; she never wanted to interfere with the matters of some other dimension so far from her own, so far where she could bring her classmates to devastation. She would adapt in time of course, returning despair to these grounds as evidenced by the terrain and lack of locals, but to know she won’t ever return to her world because of some sci-fi one way trip cliche— it’s enough to indulge her for weeks!

     Ah, but enough of that, the husband complying so kindly to her wishes is what’s here and now, and he’s keeping her well engrossed in his disturbing take on their falsified romance! Pleasantly exhilarated by many factors of their conversation, she finally bestows her response to his creative fabrication with an uncanny tone.

     ”Super duper morbid!” A giggle, one a tad too cute. “It’s almost enough to make me gag!” Particularly with the liberty he took towards the end, but imaginings much more perverted prevented her from complaining. “Ahaha, to think you actually had it in you to keep my attention for more than a minute with your boring monologues! It’s something else!”

     Whether out of some backwards excitement or a subconscious intention, the leg that had been neatly folded over her other abruptly kicked up with enough force to send her shoe crashing into the ceiling. If by doing so she accidentally hit her hubby, smacked that stupid ring pop out of his hand, or accomplished nothing at all, she wouldn’t notice; too wholeheartedly devoted to the way her chest tightened with an embarrassing homesickness contradicting her thrill to make their familial life unlike anything written before.

[crimsonmoonwalk]

it was quite hard to piss dave off, and even when if someone managed to they’d barely be able to tell considering he’d act only a tad bit more insulting than usual, but junko hadn’t reached that level just yet, as much as she probably wanted to. hell, barely anyone had ever managed to actually push past his defense mechanisms and push his anger buttons, and he doubted his wife would be able to, if anything this was an interesting experience to him capable of delivering quite a bit of sitcom-esque situations with a lot more murder than what’s usually allowed on american television, maybe japan, though, who knows what the fuck is going on over there. he can only imagine. his wife here probably rules japan with a carefully manicured iron fist or something gotdam.

he canted his head to the side as she let out a giggle, well thank god she was entertained, because he had a feeling that whenever she wasn’t she’d attempt to make some fun herself via murdering her husband and playing hop scotch with his intestines. and that’s the sickly cute noise she’d make while doing it too, which definitely made him a wee bit uncomfortable. he wanted slightly less fucked up junko back.

bruh. this was the most off-putting person he had ever met in all of his days, and that was saying something because he had come into extremely close contact with a shit load of horny aliens and their leader angsty alien jesus, but she kicked them all to the curb in terms of ‘what the fuck is happening and why’, and usually that’s peoples’ reaction when they let dave speak for more than 30 seconds, but she seemed to be getting off on it. like, not even jokingly, she was drooling and shit. maybe it was the part about getting fucking domed by a hard-ass baseball. yeah, she was probably into that.

but seriously, just as he was pondering how fucked she was, she managed to up the weird-ass ante via her tone changing akin to a car screeching and burning out while turning a corner. “if we’re being honest here, i’m pretty sure your throw-up would be chalk full of babies and probably pink. dead pink babies are probably your aesthetic. i can’t even imagine what you use the internet for, like most people waste it’s carefully crafted potential by ejacin’ all over their monitors every other day, but you probably take it to another level, like-“

and then she kicked his ring-pop, what the fuck, man, this cost 50% of his salary, remember? nah, it was like a dollar, but still, his wrist did not appreciate her leg antics. “like drop-kicking your screen instead of logging off. now our marriage is on the same level as a sandy ring pop on a somewhat clean floor that you’ll probably flood with your cum considering you’re having a unique sex seizure over this whole shebang. chill.” he was too reluctant to stand up, because then her kicks would be leveled with his dick, so now instead of kneeling he parked his butt on the tiled floor below and continued to look up at her.

[crimsonmoonwalk]

intro post

hi im aidan!! im literally 4 years old and all of my characters (lookin @ u dandy) are basically the same age from a maturity standpoint so we work good 2gether. me twitters @chiptuney so follow me there and we can talk about video games or something gay (probably both) \m/ deuces (2005 scene kid voice) i dont bite... hard x3

[crimsonmoonwalk]

me wife || dave || junko

[despairesque-blog]

     His reaction’s a tad mediocre, but the visible cut her interruption made in his ramblings allowed a more unsettling atmosphere to settle, so not all was lost. Although those few seconds of doubt and momentary displeasure were not quite enough to entertain, it was a start— albeit a boring one. The viewers at home would have been pleased with the relatable substance he’s spouting combined with her unique takes that kept things freakishly fresh— if they had any. The choice to reveal her colors right from the start was so that he might understand the situation he’s in, but there’s only so much she can say without giving away the climax of their sitcom. 

     ”Do you even hear yourself?”

     Her finger fortunately finds itself off his person and instead moves to her hip where it follows the rest of her hand in conveying her utmost disappointment, her demeanor nothing like it was moments ago.

     ”Like, shit! You just asked if I work at Hot Topic. Me! Fashion Model Junko Enoshima! Get your fuckin’ act together! Do these curves look like they were made to let anything but 100% wool and silk drape across them!? Hell, just what I’m wearing now is literally worth more than every meme-based apparel on this planet combined!”

     Aggressively stomping her heel into the ground, she just barely misses her husband’s own foot before a pause is necessary for the tension to turn quiet enough to ring in their ears. In that moment however, the matter of their son returned to her mind and in the blink of an eye, her expression softened.

     ”Right… our son…” Anime opinions? Spouse confirmed for absolute loser. “I don’t know what you had in mind but … I really do plan to take care of him …” 

     He had incredible potential, afterall. Less as a result of him personally and more in the concept of a child itself. Breaking the love of a mother and a child was a variety far different from murdering ones’ parents or watching a childhood friend bleed out by your own hand. If she could find herself comforted by the boy’s presence, adoring his attention or vice versa, then just how much despair could she fall in by losing that light in her life?

     Maybe. It’s a matter of weighing how promising the outcome could be versus how promising things looked at present. That her life could head an entirely more despairing direction should she find one kept things far more thrilling than following a plan to the letter. For example, if her child turned out to hate her, would that not bring a flair of despair completely different than she originally wished? Hated him enough to kill her, but left unable to because she was his dearest mommy— what kind of face would he make then?

     ”Upupu… well, we’re all stuck together in any case, so let’s get along, okay?” She hummed, finally deciding to give back the other’s needed space and instead sit on the bed offered by the master bedroom. One leg folded over the other, she waved him over sweetly. “By the way, you do have a ring for me right? I mean, we’re married, so that much should be a given. Why don’t we recreate the day you proposed? C’mon, c’mon! Come kneel!”

[crimsonmoonwalk]

huh. this was not the way he expected this to go at all. like out of all of the possible combinations of couples that he could imagine, a sadistic hottie with a body was definitely a lot lower down on the list than a furry who’s really into dolphins. but i guess that means shes unique enough to escape dave’s rather expansive imagination, so props for that, because usually our shaded knight can dream up anything and everything, which is why all of his elementary school teachers used to confiscate his crayons. wasn’t there an amendment that gave him the right to draw giant crayola dicks or something? what ever. he’d sue later.

“well, i hear you going batshit on me, like not even a lil bit, there are mounds of fecal matter raining down from the sky and mostly all of it is from bats, the other is because jesus’ toilet got clogged and he thought lol fuck it. it is going to crush our beautiful apartment and possibly murder our child in a way that would make us have to draft a different more tragic story so we won’t have to tell people our kid got crushed by shit, so yes, i can hear myself too, but i’m glad you worry so much about my health.”

dave was aware of the fact that this could end in a brutal murder if he wasn’t careful, so he stopped his monologue before it turned into a multi-paragraph one and absorbed her words, nodding his head in approval. “thank you, i’d rather be married to an insane person rocking actual brand names than a different person rocking hot topic, because they’re probably on the same level of mental health as the serial murderer who’s strutting their stuff quite adeptly.”

and now she was back into cute 50s housewife mode, with less abuse, hopefully, because if there was to be any domestic violence in this household it would be her thoroughly kicking his ass, because he was sure she was quite capable of that and a lot, lot more, but at least he learned something just then, mentioning their fake kid triggered her, uh… normal mode, but as she sweetly asked for a reenacted proposal delivered while he was on his knees he noted that even her normal switch was fucked up, but in a more subtle way. says the one who’s in an anime, punk.

“okay, but you’ll have to use your imagination for something other than murder methods for a few, because on the way here whenever i wasn’t biting my nails over having an emo significant other, i was thinking of just this.” he did what she asked, not out of fear, but because he thought this was pretty fucking entertaining, i mean, hell, this was even better than some apron donning cooking mama who would wait for him to come home from his ambiguous business-man job every day.

“so, we’re at a baseball game, the sport fucking sucks and nobody even cares about it anymore, but that’s exactly why i took you there, because i was tired and really needed a nap after all of my rigorous freestyle rapping that happened a few minutes earlier that isn’t part of this scenario so i will have to keep it under lock and key. and then suddenly the large probably budgeted tv that zooms in on all of the players’ steroid pumped biceps panned on us, and i gave the thumbs up before reaching in my pocket and BOOM you get decked in the fucking face with a rogue baseball hit by someone with shit accuracy, and you’re on the floor spitting your teeth out and shit, when i pull a knife out of my pocket and cut the baseball open, both spaghetti and a fluff falling out of it onto your hair before i finally manage to pull out…” he then reached into one of his tight pockets, pulling out a half-eroded ring pop that was covered in mysterious pocket sand. “a beautiful ring that costed me both 50% of my salary and my leg. in this roleplay i have no leg and you’re totally into it, sometimes it gets a little weird in the strider household when the kids are asleep. you dress my stub up. what the fuck.”

[crimsonmoonwalk]

me wife || dave || junko

[despairesque-blog]

     The apartment’s average, one clearly just issued to any and all dragged into this formerly war-torn world so that maybe they’ll just take it quietly and try to focus their true efforts on the community at large. Having lived both a life of luxury and abandonment, she can say with an experienced perspective and absolute certainly that this housing was indeed, painfully average.

     She isn’t ungrateful for a place to stay, but there’s far better she could obtain, particularly given the rise her image has taken in the modelling industries. People will pay anything for a good distraction after all, and in this world trying adamantly to better the spirits of the people, it was impossible for her to be anything but a success.

     It isn’t this bland decor that’s her main priority however, as enough personalizing can make it a perfectly fine— maybe ideal— place for staying out of the public eye. Rather, it’s that she’s sharing this space with others that has a crimson nail tapping aggressively against her cheek and a sharp sigh leaving slightly pouted lips.

     Yet no sooner did the thought come to mind did she hear the door to her bedroom open and shut cleanly, her neck turning to glance in a mix of curiosity and annoyance at the one who was presumably her decided partner. Blinking as his mouth ran off spouting nonsense faster than she cared to absorb, her attention instead narrowed to examine his appearance, musings already captured by how the press might devour him. Fortunately, he’s not terribly ugly; she, him, and their son could be known as some dysfunctional blonde family, and she could live that.

     What she couldn’t live with was the boredom starting to settle in her tired gaze and unexcited heart, arms slowly folding over her chest as the other’s introduction concluded. With a small smile, she stepped toward her husband too cool to stand up straight until the tips of their toes touched, allowing a small giggle to leave her.

     ”Wow, so I have your approval, that’s super cute!” Not. “You took long enough to get here, are you trying to tear this family apart? You’re awful!”

     She lifts one manicured finger to prod his chest, her personality fluctuating even faster than their conversation topic. Attitude now holier-than-thou, she beams arrogantly.

     ”—Merely a jest, plebeian. However, as thou hast made his uncanny arrival, so shall I lay down my law. So long as you are my husband, do not dare treat myself as anything below a queen— a goddess. Worry not, for we shall live in utmost harmony provided this rule is never broken. Simple, is it not?”

[crimsonmoonwalk]

the last apartment he lived in was most dope, it being a penthouse thanks to his creatively enterprising bro’s big og puppet dick business ventures, dave still had no idea how they even accumulated cash from that, but the people want what the people want, even if it’s soft puppet genitalia. just imagine the dudes who spent actual money they earned from their jobs in order to receive a well-endowed puppet straight from amazon. people are terrifying, truly. huh, she didn’t seem too bad, hell, she even slipped in a little joke, nice, except she didn’t laugh at any of his perfectly timed jests, which would give her a strike in the wife book. he really needs a portable laugh track, that would really give his countless dick jokes a real sharp edge.

plus, they were hella close, just look at this footsie action, gotdam, he was totally pulling right now. except girls have cooties. oh, wait, she giggled, so he mentally erased that x from his imaginary book that he had just drafted a few minutes ago, hell, he even gave her a point because that was one cute-ass noise. he seemed to have lucked out on this one, not that he went in with high standards, hell, his only requirement was that they didn’t work at the local hot topic, what an easy husband. except not really. she will have to hear his long-ass monologue-esque statements 24/7, good luck. haha, just imagine if his wife turned out to be a sadistic mentally unstable murderer, that would sure be unfortunate for someone like dave.

but it’s not like that’s possible, i mean just look at how genuine she’s being right now about how cute he is. how could she not be? he was pretty cute if he said so himself, so he’d add a point for their mutual agreement on this point. look at her, racking up points like they were stacks of despairing teenagers’ corpses.

“yeah, forced arranged marriages on a war torn debatably apocalyptic planet are adorable as shit. shit with hello kitty stickers. not scene-esque ones from hot topic. you don’t work at hot topic, right? because if you happened to i would literally grab my previous words out of the air and force them down my throat in what appears to be a sex act wrote by a kid who probably ended up swallowing his phone on his nsfw blo-“

oh. there was her carefully sculpted finger, and there were her words. what the fuck. maybe his mental joke about her being a fucking psychopath was less of a joke than he thought. damn dude. “damn dude.”

"i can't believe the nerds who run this shit thought it would be a good idea to set me up with an avid and militant internet forum fanatic. christ, you had better not shove your pretentious anime opinions down our children's throat, i will not have our son become a weeb. being a weeb is a gateway drug to ending up behind a cash register at hot topic." and now he's shuddering. disgusting.

[crimsonmoonwalk]

me wife || dave || junko

well. here he was in yet another strange place. christ dave, you ricochet from alien jesus takes the sims too seriously world to war torn forced marriage to a possible hot topic employee city. seriously. he saw a hot topic on the way to his new home. this place was fucked. in a perfection obsessed society such as this one, how did they manage to have that chain slide through the cracks? seriously, goddamn. he could only imagine being forced to marry someone who's income was selling trollface branded shirts to the public. not even dave had enough sheer ironic power to withstand a day working inside the moist cellars of that place. disgusting.

hm, pondering the negativity that hot topic brings to this new world really distracted him from the main point at hand: he's gonna meet his fucking fixed family pretty soon. oh my god, he could finally bring his dream of becoming a hot dad to life, and also a cool dad, one who wears khakis and flip flops and golf shirts while popping boners from grilling burgers on the grill with fellow dads who are actively discussing their daughters innocence. beautiful. truly he couldn't wait for his experience, unless his significant other happened to be a complete and utter scrub. oh, shit, he also had a child that was awkwardly 2 years younger than him or something so he'd have to get around to that eventually too --

there she was, standing right before him in their new master bedroom. huh. she was pretty hot, not gonna lie. now time to play it cool and lean against the shut door adjacent from his back. yeah. nice. "just seeing you makes me want to shred a fuckin' guitar with one hand whilst burning a building down to ashes with another, which is a pretty challenging look to achieve because there must be a complete and utter balance between the punk rock and anarchist forces, otherwise you'll either end up overdosing on cocaine behind a stage in an embarrassing position or being brandished a national criminal and sentenced to life in gay baby jail. you're teetering on the edge of two horrifying realities without a care in the world and i'm truly diggin' it. you are not the kind of girl who would sell meme based apparel and for that i accept you as my wife."

[haaaast]

dave strider