We just want to go home.

Webber doesn’t like letting go. He has always, always been an affectionate boy, clinging to his mother when he was sad, rushing to his father when he was scared. Webber doesn’t like letting go because it reminds him of how he’s been pulled and robbed of everything he once held dear, and as much as he tries to push bad memories aside in favor of optimistic smiles, even the bubbliest of kids can let their insecurities get the best of them. 

So when he pulls away from Wendy, he immediately wants to throw himself back on. He wants to wrap his arms around her and cry and feel safe within her grasp. He is not above childish crushes, and seemingly years of remaining close by her side has certainly earned her a special place in his heart. He’d never tell her, of course - perhaps she already knew. Perhaps she simply didn’t care. But he’ll never tell her, because he knows for a fact that she’ll never feel the same way, and Webber has never dealt well with denial. 

He’s snapped out of whatever it was he just thought of. A daydream? An insane thought? He can’t bring himself to care. “It’s okay, it’s fine, we’re strong…” Webber’s eyes, still red and teary, send a glare to the mushrooms. He doesn’t need them. But as they’re pressed against his face, and his uncooperative mouth, he realises that there’s no real reason in fighting once Wendy’s made her mind up. “Okay, okay, okay-!” the boy sighs, and hands grab at three more. This is more than enough, surely… what if Wendy needs some? 

Oh, but Wendy will never need any. Because Wendy is so much stronger and smarter and better than he’ll ever be. Maybe this is a subtle mock… maybe she’s rubbing it in. Showing off how inferior he is. Eugh, no… she wouldn’t do that. Maybe he does need those mushrooms. He chews on one, wincing at its bland taste. 

“Sorry, Wendy,” he says, and he lets his eyes wander. Anything to avoid his gaze. “We’re… ready to start working again.”

     Webber made his feeling quite obvious, but the girl would rather not be burdened with another potential loss. Besides, she would never feel the same toward him regardless of the circumstances. Wendy had other desires and thoughts in mind however, than simple petty romance. Abigail was her main priority first and foremost and vice versa for how the spirit felt toward Wendy. They were sisters to the end, and each other’s existence outweighed everyone and everything in terms of worth and Wendy was not afraid to express that verbally.

     Eyes diverting from Webber as he was taken care of, his needs satisfied and suited- just another day with her companion. Granted, Webber while her friend was undoubtedly close to her, he was useful as well. If not? It was hard to say if she ever would’ve bonded with him in the first place, as Wendy usually kept to herself due to her nature. And that hunger for power was something the child needed if she was to still be with Abigail in the coming days. It mattered little in the end to her, but that was her only way to be with her- power being a consequence.

The caps are stuffed within his backpack. A heavy sigh escapes his lips and he sincerely wishes he weren’t here. It wasn’t a common emotion, as Webber usually was quite content spending time with his friends even if it were during life-death situations, but today? He felt like he was nothing. He had long given up on attempting to hide it, as subtelty wasn’t one of his specialties. 

{ I did it I made another one!!!

It’s hard to find outfit memes with diversity in styles so I made one myself where each row has a theme!

Send a Character + Letter + Number to draw in that outfit!

i am not going to be posting any of these tonight probably but feel free to send them! 

His mind is throbbing, fists balled up as he drags himself across the floor. Webber can hardly resist the flow of ugly tears from bloodshot eyes, choking on his own unsynced breath; lungs trying desperately to draw in air through his wheezes and cries. The whispers aren’t even whispers anymore, they’re screams, screams ringing in his ears and shouting at him. What a pathetic child he is. Useless and deserving of abandon. Wendy was surely too good for him - he was weighing her down, as usual. He can’t think straight, he can’t hear her words at all, only melancholic strings of muffled sentences that fuel his ongoing headache. 

He spins his head round, the boy eyeing the closing monsters. One of several legs, jaw unhinged, and the other a slender figure that towers above him, sharp teeth bared. In a blind panic, Webber struggles to his feet, hands clinging to Wendy’s arm as to lift himself up. But that was not the only reason, as he’d pull her into an embrace, eyes scrunched shut and head buried within the creek of her neck. Trembling lips part, and he inches forward to sink his teeth into the rubbery cap of a green mushroom, still hot to the touch. Within seconds, he’s swallowed it. It tastes disgusting, but his head softens. Hands trail out to unsteadily pick at the remaining shrooms from the pack, and they’re bitten into without hesitation. 

With a reluctant turn, prying eyes glance at the shadows behind him, and surely enough they’re no longer mobile. The sight alone makes him feel better, and he carefully pulls away from Wendy, his body still shaking as it attempts to overcome its sudden trauma. There’s a lump in his throat, and Webber can see their forms gradually diminish until they’re nothing. His breathing slows, and the boy tries to calm himself. 

“T-Thank you…” he says, voice barely audible. Truthfully, he can’t muster up the words. He can’t bring himself to add anything, voice betraying him as nothing leaves his lips. He decides to remain silent, his heart beating too fast for his liking.

     Wendy did not enjoy touching, though Webber was an exception at times. And any other circumstance she would’ve thrown him off as she always preferred to be asked for content usually, at least when it came to others mostly. Granted Abigail could make contact as she pleased, but she was different, Wendy knew things about Webber that he thought he kept a secret from her. It was rather obvious considering the boy wore his heart on his sleeve, yet all she did was hold him until she deemed it was okay to gently push him off.

So when he pulls away from Wendy, he immediately wants to throw himself back on. He wants to wrap his arms around her and cry and feel safe within her grasp. He is not above childish crushes, and seemingly years of remaining close by her side has certainly earned her a special place in his heart. He’d never tell her, of course - perhaps she already knew. Perhaps she simply didn’t care. But he’ll never tell her, because he knows for a fact that she’ll never feel the same way, and Webber has never dealt well with denial. 

He’s snapped out of whatever it was he just thought of. A daydream? An insane thought? He can’t bring himself to care. “It’s okay, it’s fine, we’re strong...” Webber’s eyes, still red and teary, send a glare to the mushrooms. He doesn’t need them. But as they’re pressed against his face, and his uncooperative mouth, he realises that there’s no real reason in fighting once Wendy’s made her mind up. “Okay, okay, okay-!” the boy sighs, and hands grab at three more. This is more than enough, surely... what if Wendy needs some? 

Oh, but Wendy will never need any. Because Wendy is so much stronger and smarter and better than he’ll ever be. Maybe this is a subtle mock... maybe she’s rubbing it in. Showing off how inferior he is. Eugh, no... she wouldn’t do that. Maybe he does need those mushrooms. He chews on one, wincing at its bland taste. 

Wendy’s words are muffled, and he winces at the sight of her eyes. Her blank eyes - staring, alongside Abigail’s, alongside the shadows… The spider’s fingers tangle up in his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and tugging with a sickening rip. There’s a sharp pain atop his head, his teeth gritting with a hiss. Her words are muffled, yet they do not go unheard, even if he wishes they had. 

Webber springs to his feet. His crazed glare meets hers, his hands balled up in fists. Again? Again? Was he scared again? She must be toying with him. A nervous glance behind him, he can see Them. The monsters of nightmares, judging his every move, mocking him. His ripped hair falls to the ground and he spins to face Wendy once more, pointing a trembling finger. “We’re. Not. Nervous! OR frightened! We can be just as strong and mature and fearless as you!” his voice cracks. Part of him wants to impress her. The other part comes from a buried feeling of little self esteem. 

The things behind him move closer. Instinctively, he grabs for a weapon. An axe, a spear, a cane, anything, but finds himself clinging to nothing. The legs on his head twitch, and his heart beats louder. Hands squeeze at his forehead, his eyes scrunched shut. “Eugh, shut up, shut up, shut up!” he cries to himself, the voices growing louder and louder. Laughing, threatening, he wants to die. No. He doesn’t. He wants to live… right?

 “Wendy…” he hisses, and Webber’s eyes open, staring at her with a glistening glow of tears and plead. “It hurts… It hurts so much… The voices…” he can barely speak, and he hates himself for not being used to this yet.

     Staring to somewhere else yet still to the lad as he inevitably broke down, Abigail too had already been long staring at the boy in silence next to her sister. Webber was not yet truly like them was he? Wendy could take the unraveling of her mind for she had been long broken before she came here. For if there had been any hope of her healing, scarred beyond belief yet still her old self prior to Abigail’s death? It had long since passed with her arrival and stay in this realm, yet it was partly out of empathy though more or less not to see Webber in such a state- as it was like a cracked mirror nearly.

He spins his head round, the boy eyeing the closing monsters. One of several legs, jaw unhinged, and the other a slender figure that towers above him, sharp teeth bared. In a blind panic, Webber struggles to his feet, hands clinging to Wendy’s arm as to lift himself up. But that was not the only reason, as he’d pull her into an embrace, eyes scrunched shut and head buried within the creek of her neck. Trembling lips part, and he inches forward to sink his teeth into the rubbery cap of a green mushroom, still hot to the touch. Within seconds, he’s swallowed it. It tastes disgusting, but his head softens. Hands trail out to unsteadily pick at the remaining shrooms from the pack, and they’re bitten into without hesitation. 

With a reluctant turn, prying eyes glance at the shadows behind him, and surely enough they’re no longer mobile. The sight alone makes him feel better, and he carefully pulls away from Wendy, his body still shaking as it attempts to overcome its sudden trauma. There’s a lump in his throat, and Webber can see their forms gradually diminish until they’re nothing. His breathing slows, and the boy tries to calm himself.