My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!
Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans.
cw: kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, writer Reader, Ink is mentioned, Error is jealousy, again, comedy, Reader finally notices that something wrong is happening!
(Part one) (Part two)
“I should really get a new chair..." You say slowly, tilting your head back and feeling your neck stretch — a habit that you keep indulging in, no matter how sore it makes your nape afterward. "Then again, I also need to buy some new pants... and a new mouse as well..." Your head rolls over your shoulders, and before you know it, you’re staring at the computer screen again.
Your fingers lightly tap against the table; pinky, ring, middle, and index. One after the other in a rhythmic sequence — until you mess up and clench your hand into a loose fist.
"Ink definitely wouldn’t say that; he’s just so clueless." And there you are, deleting an entire paragraph for the third time, unhappy with how your story is turning out. "Why did I have to write about this jerk again?"
Because he’s a complex character with many layers that can add depth to your plot. You can almost imagine yourself explaining it, wearing glasses with a raised finger — just like that nerd emoji meme.
Even though your explanation was spot on, you can’t help but huff in frustration, rubbing your eyes with your thumbs before looking back at the blank Word document.
“... Why is this so bright?” If you were standing in front of a mirror, you’d definitely see your pupils constricting; a slight burning sensation spreading across your eyes as your finger keeps clicking on the computer keys, the brightness rapidly dimming.
Before you can blink, you let out a slow hiss. The burning in your eyes, sharp against your sensitive irises, returns suddenly; and in front of you, seemingly amused by the situation, your computer screen is set to full brightness.
"What the hell?" you curse, quickly covering your eyes with your hands as you pull away from the screen. For a moment, all you see is complete darkness, with a few bright spots flickering in your vision.
Maybe it’s time to start using eye drops; your eyes probably wouldn’t hurt so much after hours in front of the computer.
"I must have pressed the wrong key..." That’s a possibility, if it weren’t for a little voice in the back of your mind whispering the steps you took moments ago; you definitely pressed the right keys and released them at the right moment to actually dim the screen. "Or did I think I clicked but really didn’t?"
Your head droops onto your shoulders — and a low grunt escapes your lips as you feel the muscles in your neck stretch, pulling your shoulder blades along with them.
You rest your face in your hands, then rub your eyes and look at the computer again between your fingers. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” Your feet shuffle toward the table, the rolling chair getting stuck at some point. “I just need to finish at least this dialogue before I can finally shut this thing down with a clear conscience.”
In theory, it should be a simple task; in practice, not so much. Especially when the paragraphs you’ve already written keep getting erased-
"What the hell is going on?!" You couldn’t believe — or understand — what was happening right before your eyes: sentence by sentence, your fanfic was being quickly erased, line by line.
You quickly moved the mouse away from the document, clicking anywhere else in the browser to stop your writing from being deleted — which didn’t do much good. The cursor soon started moving on its own, spinning around the screen until it selected an entire paragraph and deleted it.
"What’s going on?!" you shout as you repeat the same action, clicking outside the browser to keep the cursor from going back to the document, sliding it left, right — anywhere to keep whatever was controlling your mouse away from your precious fanfic. "Is this what a hacker attack feels like?"
It’s the only explanation; unless the existence of ghosts is not just real, but they also have the ability to manipulate electronics and understand how the internet works.
Before you could think any more about it, the cursor had returned to the center of the screen — but this time, before it could delete any more of your text, you quickly took control of the mouse, dragging it to the red box in the corner of the window and closing it for good.
You didn’t even curse or shout afterward; your mouth stays slightly open, slowly widening enough to express your disbelief at what had just happened. Your eyes remained fixed on the computer, even as your vision grew increasingly blurry, much like the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind.
"What the hell was that? Was it some kind of virus? Or a hacker's prank? I didn’t share this document with anyone, so it must have been some damn hacker with no job doing something so messed up! But wait, what if it’s like those little computer avatars that are actually viruses messing with your documents and folders? Did I download something strange without even noticing?”
Your focus snaps back to the screen as a notepad file opens in the upper corner of your desktop.
HEHEHEHEHEHEH GOT YOU!
“Son of a bitch,” you growl, grinding your teeth together as your eyes scan the message in all caps again and again.
This was solid proof (at least for your stress-fried brain) that this was the work of a sadistic hacker, taking pleasure in your suffering. It was decided: you would take your computer to a specialist as soon as possible — hacker or not, you would get your precious computer back at any cost.
Banging your head against the desk — and grunting as the pain spreads across your forehead — you don’t even notice that the light on your webcam is on.
Tagging area, if you want to be tagged, just ask :D
Two young lovers, freshly arrived in Kugane. Surely their comrades won't begrudge them a moment to appreciate the beauty of the sea.
Could Altun easily jump up onto the railing next to U'nyashima? Of course. But she gets to be cute when she wants to.
@laliluluho and I are both trying to make an effort to get more screenshots and gpose as we play through the MSQ with these two. I hope you all enjoy getting these little update posts as we continue on, and I'm planning a proper intro and back story post for Nya-Nya once I finish a couple other projects.
I want you laying me down, 'till we dead and buried - n.s.
How Noah asked exwife!reader to marry him when they were young.
This is another installment to the exhusband!Noah and exwife!reader fic I posted recently. I'm not really good with timelines, but they're around 20 here.
Warnings: no warnings on this one, just pure fluff and a proposal.
WC: 1.1k.
It was a cold Sunday night, you and Noah were laying in bed, the cozy and heavy blankets over the two of you. You had just eaten dinner a couple of hours ago, and were now watching a movie on the television.
The bedroom wasn't big, neither was the apartment, but it was enough for the two of you. When you and Noah moved in together, you already knew it wasn't gonna be anything too fancy. Having just turned twenty, with you working as an apprentice at a studio downtown, and Noah making money from the gigs with his band, there was only so much you both could afford.
But it didn't stop you from feeling like you were living the life you've always wanted.
No amount of money could pay for the feeling of coming home from a stressful day and feeling Noah's arms enveloping you in his embrace. Or, when you felt like the whole world was against you, and he reassured you that everything was going to be fine.
"When we finally buy our big and fancy house, we're definely going to have a heating system for the winter", Noah says beside you. You let out a little laugh and snuggled closer to him.
"Why do we need a heating system? We can just share body heat", you say as he wraps his arms around you a little tighter, pulling you impossibly closer.
"And I love sharing body heat. I just don't like sleeping with this many blankets", he points out, grumbly. You think he's the cutest when he whines about simple things, like having to use too many blankets.
"Well, when we buy our big, fancy house, I want heated floors on the bathroom. I hate stepping on the cold floor when I just had a hot shower", you tell him, making you own request known, and it's his turn to smile.
You and Noah dreamed about the future a lot. How things are going to be in eight, or ten years. You don't know how to explain it, but you just had a feeling inside of you that was certain he would make it.
More often than not, Noah would tell you that his faith in this music thing he was trying was wavering. And he told you how uncertain he was about the path he has chosen in life. You just told him that it takes time. He has the talent and dedication - so much dedication - he just had to wait until the good things started happening.
What you always told him though, is that he should start singing too. You knew he wasn't as confident in his voice yet, but whenever you caught him muttering a song under his breath, or singing something when he tought you couldn't hear, you couldn't stop thinking of how much potential he had to create something incredible.
"Anything for the lady. You ask and it shall be delivered", he salutes in odedience and you laugh at his exaggeration, even though you knew he would keep this in his head for when the time came.
"Do you really think we're gonna have a big, fancy house?", you ask him, honestly. He thinks for a moment before answering.
"I really do", he affirms, leaving out the part where he knows you two will be married by then as well. Truthfully, he hasn't asked you yet solely because he didn't have the money to buy you the ring he thinks you deserve. But he has all of the intention in the world to marry you.
"Do you think we'll be married by then?", you ask and it catches him off-guard. Have you been reading his mind? Have you also been thinking about this as much as he has? You must've been, to ask him this question, so unprompted.
Marriage has been a topic of conversation a few times during your relationship, and both of you agreed that it would happen at the right time. You just didn't know when that would be.
"Do you want us to be married by then?", he throws back the question at you, trying to go off of your answer.
"Sure, but we don't know when that will be. What if it's in ten years? Do we want to wait that much?", you say, and he sure as hell knows he does not want to wait that much to marry you.
"I'd marry you next week if I could", he says, nonchalantly, as if that was the most normal thing to say.
You get up into a half sitting position, your elbow supporting you on the bed, as you look at him.
"Noah, please. Marriage takes a lot of planning and money", you observe.
"I know that, and I know that you'd love to plan everything to the last detail. I'm just saying that, if it was up to me, we'd have a marriage license by next week", he shrugs his shoulders, and you're still looking a him. He can't really tell what you're thinking, and he doesn't know if it scares him or not.
"Bold of you to say that when you haven't even proposed yet", you point out, a smirk on your lips, knowing that you got him there.
"Well, do you?", he asks.
"Do I what?"
"Do you want to marry me?"
"You know I want to marry you", you tell him. Does he really need to ask?
"I'm asking officially. Will you marry me?"
It takes you a second to register what he's actually asking you, but when it does, you can't believe it. You're inside your little apartment, laying in bed, hair disheveled and there's a weird stain on your pajama. But, somehow, you also think that it couldn't have been more perfect.
You gauge the way he's looking at you, and even though he wants to ask like he's not nervous, you can tell. His eyes are so expressive that has given him away more times than you could count. And, right now, he's looking at you like you're holding his entire world in your hands.
"Of course I'll marry you", you said, and throw yourself in his arms. In seconds, your lips are on his, and he's gripping the back of your head firmly, not wanting you to pull away. He's relieved, you can tell, and wonder if there's a world where he thought you would say no.
Because the prospect of getting to do this forever makes you the happiest you've ever been.
"We need rings now", Noah says against your lips, smiling.
"I have an idea if you don't mind", you suggest, and he tells you to go ahead.
You get up from the bed and grab your tattoo kit, and in an hour or so, both of you have two crisp lines tattooed on your ring fingers. Yours a little more wobbly than Noah's, since he doesn't have the experience you have with tattoo machines. But you don't really care. This is perfect.
"There we go", Noah says, putting his hand on top of yours, observing your handy works. "Forever".
˙⋆✮Cora and Camelia finally decided to tie the knot, and become wives! they were so glad to have their families, and friends surround them while they celebrated their new journey together <3
thank you @areleksiyamoonlight for both of these templets!
