#vei1s

NO PACK MEMBER LEFT BEHIND !!!

a ghost of a smile curls the right corner of his mouth, fingers gently brushing their blonde locks from their face to hook behind their ear. then trail along the edge of her jaw to the tip of her chin, tilting their head up so he can better see their beauty. noses bump affectionately as he rests his forehead to Gen’s. “ oh, shortstack . . . i’m far worse. ” a kiss is pressed to their lips, possessive in his movements as he lays claim, easily guiding her smaller frame towards his office door. “ but never to you. ” words are whispered between another desperate kiss, a hand blindly searching for the knob.

howl's moving castle, accepting !

brow arches at the statement, velma purses her lips as a few different thoughts push through her mind. " hm, okay. for eating or the species as a whole ? " she questions, although she's almost sure gen means as the food. she doesn't blame them, a lot of people don't like eating fish. the way it smells, looks, it's off putting to people. " cause as an animal they are highly intelligent and a very cool species but i can totally understand not liking eating them. i've never had sushi but i don't think i'd like it very much. do you like other seafood ? "

██  𝗚𝗘𝗡𝑜'ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎  ,  STARTER  CALL.  objectively,  it  could've  been  worse.  maybe.  they'd  been  tripping  +   stumbling  around  a  version  of  star  city  frozen  in  time   for  what  felt  like  centuries  -  the  city  was  holding  it's  breath,  but  it  was  still  on.  streetlights  hummed  in  misplaced  silence  except  the  noise  didn't  carry  right.  no  sound  did.  breathing  rang  too  loud,  footsteps  felt  swallowed,  voices  echoed  but  they  were  faint   ...   not  quite  real.  it  felt  curated.  someone  had  come  in  +  edited  out  all  the  little  things  that  didn't  matter  -   no  trash,  no  decay,  no  randomness.  just  selective  detail.

THERE  WAS  NO  WAY  OUT.  a  stairwell  dropped  into  a  storefront  three  blocks  over.  a  maintenance  door  opened  into  an  apartment  that   didn’t  exist  from  the  outside.  glass  double  doors  that  should’ve  led  to  the  street  folded  them  back  inside  somewhere  else  entirely  -   same  city,  different  layout.  things  stayed  until  they  didn't  -  doors  moved,  streets  disappeared,  buildings  seemingly  generated  out  of  thin  air.  STAR  CITY  RESET  ITSELF  SLOWLY.  like  it  was  keeping  her   +  @vei1s  within  a  version  of  itself  that  only  made  sense  to  the  person  playing  god  with  their  lives.  they  were  basically  sims.

❛  are  you  fucking  kidding  me  ?  ❜  it  was  the  first  thing  to  come  from  her  in  over  twenty  minutes.  some  days  were  better  than  others.   there  were  times  where  it  felt  like  they  knew  the  rules,  that  they  moved  easily  through  the  city.  +  then  there  were  days  like  the  one  they  were  currently  trapped  in.  days  where  the  rules  changed  every  two  minutes  +  every  unlocked  door  brought  them  back  to  the  start.  ❛  it  reset.  we're  back  at  the  front  door.  ❜

it's been two weeks since he was released from hospital, his leg is still in a brace, arm in a sling. he's lost count of the bandages and cuts that cover his body. he hasn't looked in a mirror in almost a month; not out of shame, but grief. a terrible lonely grief.

being back home he feels like a ghost. looking at the unused workout equipment in the corner by the door that he isn't sure he'll get to use again. a cookbook he had bought a week before the accident, now unsure if he has the strength to even lift his arms.

his therapist told him to keep busy, he knows he needs to call him back. he's been putting off making an appointment. despite being off work buck has tried to keep himself occupied. he's gone through as many books as he can and now he's moved onto sorting an unnamed pile of paperwork that's been sitting untouched in their office for months.

an empty redbull can is on the coffee table, a cold coffee next to it. he can't remember the last time he ate but the pain medication makes his appetite vanish anyways.

the sun is fading fast, buck knows he should get up and turn a light on but the thought of getting up makes him cringe. he's comfortable, somewhat, sitting on the ground propped up against the couch. he hears the front door open, keys in the dishes. it's a couple minutes before he feels the couch dip behind him. gen's words are soft but they make his stomach twist.

send 🎧 and i’ll tell you what song your muse reminds me of