in a new light,

i'm no good for you ! this heart ain't built for two !

[jxshw-blog]

he can’t sleep. walking’s always good to clear his head.

[jxshw-blog]

chris.:

His lips twitch, and for a moment, he thinks,                                             I know. I know you feel that way. I know you.

It feels like whatever he had left of how safe he used to feel is slipping through weak fingers.

                                                          “You… wanna talk about it?” Cliché. Chris flinches at his own choice of words.                             “It’s a big deal to me                                            “if it’s bothering you so much.”

             I miss you. I need you back.

           exhausted, he’s feels older than his years. HE IS SO TIRED. he wants to get better, but the road to getting better is longer than he can handle, too rough, too much. he’s pathetic, and he knows it.

                                 ❛❛CHRIS...❜❜ it’s not that easy. it’s not that easy. he can’t just talk about it. he can’t. but eventually, he just settles with-                                  ❛❛talking doesn’t help.❜❜

           and that's the irony.

[jxshw-blog]

chris:

As Josh speaks again—                         whose voice is that, that echoes and rattles in his brain? —the gun hangs loosely in Chris’ right hand, his eyes on Josh’s.

Still green, but there’s something else that catches in the moonlight.

He can feel his chest seizing, a sick feeling against his ribs radiates with each erratic heartbeat. For a moment, he looks to the wendigo—                         the monster             (monsters)                          took Josh —and his grip again tightens on the stock of the shotgun.

           “I don’t understand,” he admits slowly, voice low to keep from cracking.                                      “I’m… I’m here to.                                                         “To bring you home.”

           home. a concept of another life. away from this. away from everything he’s known from the last four months. back to his life, back to his remembrance. to indifferent parents and medication that makes him sick. to a CARING FRIEND and a cryptic sense of worth.

                                 he doesn’t want to go.

                                 ❛❛what is a home?❜❜ does it have to be in a house, with other people? no, it doesn’t. he tries not to talk with his hands now. it’s been easier because he didn’t have to talk before but now he does and he is and he knows the wendigo’s eyes are caught between him and chris. he knows how strong words can be. he’s taught himself and they’ve taught him.                                  ❛❛i have a home.❜❜ right here.

[jxshw-blog]

chris.:

His breath is heavy in his lungs, and the adrenalin from running, from seeing the shadows dart and dance like they did that night—                                           he should have come sooner, look at Josh now —leaving him tensed and unable to focus on one or the other of the two beings before him. But even through the panic rising up his throat, one thought pushes through.

                          “Josh?”

The shotgun is still aimed at the monster poised behind his best friend, and remarkably, the only parts of him that weren’t shaking were his hands, his aim steady. Maybe a shotgun was a poor choice of weapon, in hindsight. It would be too risky to shoot at the beast with Josh so close. Chris might hit Josh.

              “I. I came to find you,” the blond eventually went on, finally beginning to lower the gun.

                          “What… what’s happening?”

           the prospect of losing his family again is the only thing that accurately frightens him about this situation. and there’s a part of him that knows the impact will garner him, too. all he imagines is ribs and hands and terrible, terrible pain. human being in the worst of senses. he’d rather stay dead.

           missing posters with his name and face, matched to his sisters and with his parents’ brand. fucked up son and perfect daughters, his family has fallen apart but he has found who he has lost. ghastly face with iridescent eyes behind his head, moving to his shoulder. he’s the only one who can control them.

                      HE WANTS TO GET BETTER.

                                 ❛❛didn’t you know there wasn’t anything to find?❜❜ hollow tones and scattered bones. broken, beaten, with collective injuries both before and after. touch and go, still lungs and empty heart.                                  ❛❛i found them, and they found me.❜❜

[jxshw-blog]

           he’s not the same, but then again, neither of them truly are. hauntings and monsters wrapped up in pretty little memories. but reality is fickle and his nightmares aren’t just that anymore. the elongated hand curling over his left shoulder proves it. if he were anyone else, if this was three months ago, he would be TERRIFIED.

           but his hallucinations have come to life, and his sister is right here. even if not in the traditional sense.

                                 he should have stayed dead.

                                                        ❛❛why did you come back, chris?❜❜

@badasscochise

[jxshw-blog]

chris.:

Normally, Chris would roll his eyes at this excuse, but he’s still mulling over Josh’s protests, going through them piece by piece in his mind. If Josh — his best friend, who he’s known for most of his life — didn’t want him around, he’d have to shift everything in his life. He’d have to get rid of the obvious reminders of Josh—                  but everything, everything reminds him of Josh, how could it not? —and monitor every social space to avoid him, avoid getting in his way.

Chris grits his teeth, jaw clenching as he looks away.

                       “Then talk to me,” he says after a long silence filled only with hurried, silent thoughts.

     “Because I’m…               “really lost,” the blond goes on, the last word catching, making his shame burn brighter in his cheeks.

           mess left in indents and drops. he’ll try his best but he knows, more than anyone, what it’s like to be an absolute failure. of course, he feels anxiety, but the anger hasn’t left and he has to grit his teeth to not start yelling. he doesn’t want to yell. he’s tired of yelling, all sad eyes and grey skies. it won’t rain, he doesn’t think. maybe he wants it to.

                      it’s not his fault. YES IT IS.

                                 ❛❛i’m not. i’m not mad at you. i’m just messy and fucked up and i DON’T KNOW WHO I AM half the time.❜❜ he tries not to get like this. he hates being seen this way.                                  ❛❛i’m just. bothered. it’s not a big deal.❜❜

           he doesn’t like the way chris looks. he did that. it’s his fault.

[jxshw-blog]

continued from x.

           familiar with the tone, JOSH knows what’s happened on the other side of the door. at least to a point. too broken to work properly, both damaged but one more than the other. aftermath of iridescent skies, he’s fallen from grace with none left.

           nothing can help them now. he’ll trick himself into thinking he is because he’s useless to himself.

                                 ❛❛coming in.❜❜ and he does, pauses for half a breath to take in his double before closing the door. the bed is his next stop. he sits on the edge and slowly reaches for josh’s hand, to press two fingers to his knuckles. small touches help but not all the time. he takes it slow so if he’s denied he’ll have time to adapt.

                                 ❛❛trouble sleeping, too?❜❜ he knows the answer. he isn’t sure why he asked that.

@complexitie

[jxshw-blog]

mic.:

“–okay.”

Part of her is afraid to draw him in deeper to her world, to what she is, but she trusts in him the same way he trusts her. Right now, all they have is each other. She nods after a moment. 

“I’m ready. You’ll be okay, just hold onto me. Nothing will happen as long as I’m here.”

She means it in every way. She wonders if he knows it and she thinks he does. That’s all she can hope for. Mic takes a deep breath and pulls them into the shadows.

“Let’s go–”

           in rapture, there is nothing else for him to do but die.

           it couldn’t have been more than a few moments at most, but he is still short of breath and clutches onto her as if he’ll rupture otherwise. and maybe he will. maybe that’s the big revelation of everything. that josh washington is a cracking little silhouette. a pitiful fragment of the mold he used to be.

           green eyes open slowly, he is overwhelmed with the bursts of colour. the flowers are everywhere. he blinks, once, twice, thrice. the colour remains.

                                 ❛❛wow.❜❜

[jxshw-blog]

mic:

She wants this to keep going, she doesn’t want this to end, because it’ll merely drive home how starved for affection she is. That’s not her, that shouldn’t be who she is.

But it is. Mic hates it.

She smiles.

“I can take us there faster but you’ll have to hold onto me. It can be scary the first time, it’s dark and a little cold. Is that okay–?”

           he blinks, staring at the portion of the wall. next to the curtain, drawn back slightly. just enough for slips of sunlight to drip in. he wants to go outside. it’s nice out. it’s dangerous out there.

           she’ll keep him SAFE.

                                 ❛❛oh.❜❜ she’s never done this with him. he knows she has before, he knows what she is. but he’s never traveled like her.                                  ❛❛yeah. i think. give me a warning before ?❜❜

           he tightens his grip on her waist, turns his face back into her skin.

[jxshw-blog]

mic:

Part of her really doesn’t want to move; she’s been centuries without physical comfort, she should be able to handle these months with him but it’s different somehow. Unknown versus knowing but being out of reach. She sighs.

“We could go to the valley of flowers. It’s very pretty there,” she says, twisting in his arms to look at him. “If you want. Or the temple grounds down the road, whichever one.”

           when she moves, he almost takes it as a sign to let go. he almost does, thinking he’s done something wrong. but he hasn’t. she doesn’t look angry. she’s still talking to him. he’s okay, he’s just paranoid. he’ll get better.

                                 ❛❛can we go to the flowers ?❜❜ his cheek is pressed against her side now, he pulls back a little to tip his head up towards her.                                  ❛❛we can go to the other one on the way back ?❜❜

[jxshw-blog]

chloe:

            chloe forgets that NEW people in her life sometimes had miss place their minds at her situation. of course, she understands & harbors no hard feelings when they speak to quick, speak to her like she’s SLOW, or generally messed up. ‘ your alright! ‘ she’d exclaimed with a small smile, setting her laptop aside for the moment to peer at josh with a forgiving smile & amused eyes. ‘ you don’t have to worry about my signing or knowing what it means, honest Josh. It’s force of habit, as long as I can read your LIPS I’ll be fine. ‘ she assured, waving her hand in a gesture that suggest she passes it off as if it were NOTHING. ‘ how’s your own college day going? ‘

           he still feels guilty. he’ll address it with himself later.

                                 ❛❛same as yesterday,❜❜ a part of him is glad she doesn’t seem to mind. josh leans his hip against the nearby concrete. he doesn’t want to stay long after classes are out. but his sisters aren’t out yet, and they go home together. iridescent and a bit of moss. he’s not here.

                                 ❛❛we had a sub today, though, in biology. i don’t think he liked me much. his loss.❜❜ biology is a favourite.

[jxshw-blog]

continued from x.

           he’s comfortable like this, face pressed to the small of her back and arms clasped around her. it’s like she’s a stuffed animal that he used to have. one that his sisters and he had a matching set of. it’s forgotten now, in a different life.

           his voice is muffled against red, he could turn his face, speak clearer. he does. he looks at the light hitting the wall.                                  ❛❛yeah.❜❜ short.                                  ❛❛can we go to a park ?❜❜

@miczariel

[visionofanarchy]

Platonic Touch

Sometimes, characters want contact that has nothing to do with sex or violence. Send one of these for your character to reach out to mine.

Shoulder Clasp

Across the Shoulder hug

Hair Ruffle

Gentle headlock

Full body lean

Feet in lap

Head in lap

Hair petting

Ambush hug

Not so ambush hug

Pulling mine into their lap

Cheek kiss

Forehead kiss

Brushing hair out of mine’s face

Fixing shirt collar

Fixing shirt cuffs

Fixing a clothing tag

Tying shoes

Taking off shoes

Carrying while half asleep

Hand holding

Leaning their head on mine’s shoulder tiredly

Absently tracing patterns on the nearest exposed skin

Pushing glasses into place

Offering their drink

Offering their snack

Kissing the back of mine’s hand

Looping their arm around mine’s waist and leaning against mine’s back

Crawling into bed with

Using shoulder as a pillow

Pulling mine’s arm around their shoulder

Hair brushing

Brushing lint off of

Giving a foot massage

Giving a back massage

Giving a scalp massage

Rubbing circles on mine’s back

Sharing a secret smile

Booping the nose

Touching noses together

Resting foreheads together

Resting cheeks together

Sharing a blanket

Taking over mine’s seat while they’re in it

Poking with fingers/toes

Painting mine’s nails

Putting jewelry on mine

Doing mine’s hair

Pinkie promise

High five

Fist bump

Secret handshake

Hipcheck

Pulling mine into a dance

Initiate a tickle fight

[jxshw-blog]

sam:

        sh could TRULY be childish at times, but it came with who he was. he was apart of his personality, a aspect of it that sam admired at times. compared to her own, even in college now, he was much more relaxed & fun loving. on the other hand, she was someone who was more serious when she found it was needed & relaxed when ever she’d found enough time in her busy LIFE.  ‘ sure does, ‘ she laughs, standing from the bed as she brushes herself off & slides on her jacket. with her keys in hand, she smiles toward josh & in one swift movement she takes his hand & begins for the door.  

           ecstatic wrapped up in fragile bones and beautiful green. he is predictable, but he is happy. at least for now, at least for the time, he will continue to expand and in turn, he will live for what he can, and indulge in what he’s allowed.

                                 ❛❛okay,❜❜ he says, finalizing and agreeing. he’s ready, he just wanted her opinion.                                  ❛❛where are we going to eat ?❜❜

           he forgot, so wrapped up in his stickers.

[the-barfbag-deactivated20231230]

[jxshw-blog]

sam:

      sam lets out the most amused, joyous laugh when she sees josh approach her with two small, colorful stickers in his hands. she can physically see the excitement in his face & tone when he asks the question & for the moment she can’t take him serious. as she settles, wiping her eyes of the fallen tears she points toward the  cat, ‘ that one, it’s less creepy than the smiley face & I like cats. ‘ she had reasoned, coming to sit down on his bed, watching as he joyfully places her chose promptly on his wooden dresser.  ‘ can we finally go to lunch now, josh? ‘ a brow is raised from where she lay on the bed. 

           grinning faces and elated feelings. he wants to say that he should feel this good all the time, but he knows better. he knows himself, and he knows the ending. he will not make it, and that’s fine. he’ll keep faking it.

                                 ❛❛one sec. let me put it on my dresser.❜❜ excitement bubbles beneath the surface and he carefully peels the back of the sticker. it’s childish, and he knows it. he doesn’t care.                                  ❛❛it’s CUTE! and it fits.❜❜ smoothing the edges, he leans back on his hands, sitting on the floor now. here, he looks at her.

                                 ❛❛yeah, we can go now—❜❜ there’s a but in there.                                  ❛❛but ! what do you think ?❜❜

[jxshw-blog]

mic:

She sets the cone of henna down, blowing gently on the still wet dye. She knows him well enough to see the underlying tension - he’s always like that - and she reaches out to brush her fingers against his temple. 

“Alright, we will.” It doesn’t matter if by ‘we’ he truly means her, she smiles anyway. Hesitating for a second, she presses a kiss to his forehead. 

“Do you want to go with me?”

           he relaxes minutely at her touch. it still startles him but it also brings comfort. she’s the only familiar in this new world and she’s all he has left. he’s sure she knows that. he’d be alone out here if not for mic.

           the thought of talking to new people has a mixture of terror and anticipation. he wants to meet their neighbours. he wants to be able to talk to these people, use the language he’s learning on people other than her, but the idea of it is something he’s unsure of being able. at least for now.

                                 ❛❛no.❜❜ his answer comes easy. he’s almost  ashamed.                                  ❛❛maybe next time ?❜❜