inknhon3y

[inknhon3y]

reworking my blog :3

[inknhon3y]

hii i'm sorry for being so absent :( i'm gen so busy and it's the summer after grad so i'm trying to enjoy it! i'm probs gonna be posting sporadically until december-ish... super busy this year! I love you all <3

Graphic Nature: Crowded Silence (1)

(or the cod zombie au)

Word Count: 2,204

Content Warnings: Mentions of sickness (the outbreak), Mentions of death, Mentions of blood, Mentions of injuries (non-graphic), Male aggression (not by the 141), Mentions of weapons, Fem reader; standard zombie au stuff; self edited!

You're not sure how long you've been asleep but the sun that peaks from behind the tattered blinds shines bright, even with your eyelids closed. You groan, stretching your arms above your head, eyes finally opening. The sun is high in the sky and you get the impression that you've slept a lot longer than you meant too. Daylight is precious, especially now, it's essential that you optimize every hour of light that you can.

Fall is coming to an end, the fall foliage brown and rotting into the earth, the once crisp chill in the air is becoming an unpleasant bite. Your goal is to find secure lodging before the worst of the winter storms come in, but you have a lot of supply stocking to do first. Stupidly, you thought all the stocking up you did at the beginning of fall would last you through the worst of winter, but the dwindling supply of clean water and canned goods is as sure a sign as ever.

You rise from your makeshift bed, a perpetual ache in your back from laying on rotting fabric, the only thing holding it together are it's, apparently, very sturdy springs. You laugh humorlessly when you think about how it's the most comfortable place you've had to sleep in months. Yesterday was the last day you planned on spending in this crap-fest of a home anyways. Unfortunately for you, hoards of zombies are pushing you further away from town, so getting a move on is essential if you want to find another town to pillage for supplies before the severe winter weather hits.

A sigh escapes you as you do a supply count, damn near everything is gone, but you know you only have yourself to blame. The ever decreasing pile of supplies made itself known long before now, you just chose to ignore it.

"Stupid…" You murmur to yourself.

After double, then triple checking that you had everything, you said goodbye to the tiny little shack that— for a few weeks— you called home. The air outside was still somewhat pleasant, a bit chilly, but the sun shining down on your face provided a comforting warmth. On your map, you had marked a town northwest of where you were currently residing. It was a little over twenty-five miles away but even if you walked at a somewhat leisurely pace, you should be able to make it to the outskirts of the town at the very least.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you adjust the straps of your backpack. Despite the lack of general supplies, you pack still bares a hefty weight, your shoulders aching. You place your map into your backside pocket, making sure it's securely in there before you cease your fidgeting.

Dead leaves crunch beneath your boots, a quiet symphony in the otherwise near silence of the woods. Occasionally, you can hear birds chirping and woodpeckers pecking, or small herds of deer scampering around in the more grassy areas of the woods, but other than that it's just you and the sounds of your thoughts. You think so much and yet so little. There isn't much to think about now anyways, you travel alone, you have been nearly the entire time. There was no more meaningless chatter that made long, idle days go by. Only you and your fleeting thoughts.

When the outbreak first started, you spent a lot of time mourning the life you had, the life you could've had. The people you knew, the people you could have met. So many unfulfilled aspirations that have been buried, long forgotten and withered away. You were content to let yourself die in that sketchy motel, to be a decomposed body for someone to find, if anyone did. Truthfully, if a small group of brave— or perhaps stupid— survivors, didn't drag you out of that motel, you would be dead. You never had any intention of surviving, the only reason you've gone on so long isn't because you want to survive, it's because it's instinct.

Perhaps instinct is enough. You hope it isn't enough.

You arrive at the outskirts of town after the sun had begun to set. The town is oddly eerie, oddly quiet. You had expected there to be a handful of infected, maybe a few dead bodies awaiting to turn, but there was nothing. If things hadn't been so deteriorated you might have been able to believe this town was as lively as it had been before the outbreak.

This had to be someone's hunting ground, you were damn near sure of it, there is no other explanation for the… order this place was in. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a chilling shiver runs down your spine. You're half tempted to bolt, to turn around and find another town to hunt for supplies at, but candidly, you know you don't have that kind of time. The sun was practically gone and you swear that you can feel someone's eyes on you. You let out a weary sigh, clutching the straps of your backpack a little bit tighter, before making your way further into town.

In some strange way, the fact that the town seemed so lived in— if you could put it that way— was more unsettling than any pervious abandoned town you've been to. If you weren't for the fact that you were close to defecating on yourself, you might have laughed. As you walk through the town, past grocery stores and gas stations, the wind whips past you, whispering unintelligible words in your ears. The sky is all shades of dark purples and pinks, if it were the times before, you'd think it was a nice evening.

You're lucky enough to find a small house in decent shape, the roof is still intact and most of the walls could withstand a decent windstorm. You don't plan on staying long anyways, you just need to find supplies to last you through winter, once you're all stocked up you plan on finding a more suitable place to hibernate for the winter.

The inside of the house was cold, but you don't let yourself complain too much, you know it's better than being stuck outside. You set down your backpack on the couch, the fabric of it faded and dirty. If you look closely enough you think you can make out some kind of floral pattern. You take a weapon out of your pack, a standard pistol that still feels too foreign in your hand for the amount of time you've had to use it. You keep it clutched tightly, and you can feel the cool metal sting your raw hands.

You clear the rest of the downstairs as well as the upstairs, making sure any point of possible entry was secure. Once you were sure no one could get in from the outside, you plopped yourself onto the firm cushions of the couch, an exasperated sigh leaving you lips. You're sure you won't be getting much sleep tonight, this town much to eerie and this house much to silent for your liking.

You think you'd be used to the silence by now.

The next morning you're up bright and early, as you expected, sleep escaped you for most of the night. You were only able to sleep for maybe thirty-minutes at a time, the silence causing your mind to conjure up sounds that are less than pleasant. You begrudgingly rise from the couch, your bones cracking as you do so. The plan for today is simple, grab supplies— enough to last through most, if not all of winter— and go. You already marked another town on you map, it's further in the mountains so hopefully the houses that are there are mostly untouched.

You make sure your gun is fully loaded, double checking that the safety is on, before you slip it into that little gap between your shirt and your jeans. On your way into town you noticed a few stores that looked like the might still have some stuff in them, a couple of them even still had their windows boarded up, so you decided those places would be your best bet. A couple days ago you were able to write down a list of the things you needed, it was secured inside your jacket pocket. That meant at the very least, you didn't have to spend longer than necessary in this freaky town.

The mere thought of it sent shivers down your spine.

You're not sure where things went wrong, when things went wrong. You were able to clear out the stores you wanted to and then some, everything was going so well until it wasn't. You had moved on to the last store you'd been eyeing, a general supply store. It looked pretty empty but you were sure you could find something useful in it, unassuming items that most would pass up.

As you expected the store was pretty much empty. Most major supplies like weapons, canned goods, and first aids kit were already gone, but you'd expected as much. You decided to look for supplies on the ground and on the shelves that were further back, the wood rotted and dusty and the sky blue paint that coated it now chipped. The sun hadn't even reached it's highest peak yet, and you were content to take your time and explore each and every crevice of this near empty store.

You regret your choice to poke around in that damn store.

You were in the store for maybe fifteen minutes— if that. You had found a small handful of useful things; A survival handbook— which you're very surprised people passed up— a few things you could use fire starters, and a travel size first aid kit that got kicked under one of the shelves. As you were putting the last few items in your pack, a shadowy figure moved in your peripheral vision. Before you had time to investigate, or really even process what you saw, you feel a gun pressed to the temple of your skull.

Your body went rigid as you felt the cool muzzle of the gun against your skin. You immediately look up— eyes only of course— and see three very mean looking men, a sick grin plastered on each one of their ugly faces.

"Hey there pretty lady… What are ya doin out here all alone?" The man speaks, his voice seemingly booming in such a silent space.

They're waiting for you to answer, that much is obvious, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and your heart is seizing in your chest. You hear a click, the bastard holding the gun turned the fucking safety off. Part of you is tempted to let yourself die, what good has come from fighting to survive? You have nothing to show for it, you're still struggling, you're still alone. A quick and merciful death is exactly the freedom you've been praying for.

Then, your adrenaline kicks in. Why should these assholes chose if you get to live or die? Why would you grant them the pleasure of taking your life, the life you've fought so hard for? Before you have the chance to think through your actions, you move.

Bang!

The gun goes off.

You run. You're not sure how long you've been running, you just know that it's been long enough for your lungs to start burning, the cold air you inhale with each panting breath prickling your throat.

And worse, you're bleeding, your heart is pumping so fast that it's speeding up the blood loss process. You'd managed to turn the gun on, someone, and take them out, but one of the other guys managed to more than graze you with his machete. When you bolted you had to leave all of the supplies you'd gathered so you have absolutely no way to patch yourself up. The edges of your vision are starting to blur and it feels like someone is pricking your lungs with thousands of tiny needles. Branches and dead leaves crunch beneath your feet, and it feels like it's getting harder for you to get a good footing on the soil under you. You honestly don't care about the noise your making, your loud footsteps and labored breathing boisterous in the silence of the night.

You're running out of stamina, and your body is growing weaker by the minute. If it was brighter outside, you'd be able to see the trail of blood you're leaving behind, a stark contrast to the brown and muddy orange leaves. Your running has turned into walking, and your walking has turned into a pathetic limp, you don't know how much longer you can go on. For a moment you think that this is where you'll die, in the middle of the woods, a rotting carcass left for the carnivores of the forest to feast on. But then, you see it, a beacon of hope, a place to shelter. At the very least if you die, you'll die in a home. Not your home but a home.

Right now, that's enough for you.

[inknhon3y]

Graphic Nature: Crowded Silence (1)

(or the cod zombie au)

Word Count: 2,204

Content Warnings: Mentions of sickness (the outbreak), Mentions of death, Mentions of blood, Mentions of injuries (non-graphic), Male aggression (not by the 141), Mentions of weapons, Fem reader; standard zombie au stuff; self edited!

You're not sure how long you've been asleep but the sun that peaks from behind the tattered blinds shines bright, even with your eyelids closed. You groan, stretching your arms above your head, eyes finally opening. The sun is high in the sky and you get the impression that you've slept a lot longer than you meant too. Daylight is precious, especially now, it's essential that you optimize every hour of light that you can.

Fall is coming to an end, the fall foliage brown and rotting into the earth, the once crisp chill in the air is becoming an unpleasant bite. Your goal is to find secure lodging before the worst of the winter storms come in, but you have a lot of supply stocking to do first. Stupidly, you thought all the stocking up you did at the beginning of fall would last you through the worst of winter, but the dwindling supply of clean water and canned goods is as sure a sign as ever.

You rise from your makeshift bed, a perpetual ache in your back from laying on rotting fabric, the only thing holding it together are it's, apparently, very sturdy springs. You laugh humorlessly when you think about how it's the most comfortable place you've had to sleep in months. Yesterday was the last day you planned on spending in this crap-fest of a home anyways. Unfortunately for you, hoards of zombies are pushing you further away from town, so getting a move on is essential if you want to find another town to pillage for supplies before the severe winter weather hits.

A sigh escapes you as you do a supply count, damn near everything is gone, but you know you only have yourself to blame. The ever decreasing pile of supplies made itself known long before now, you just chose to ignore it.

"Stupid…" You murmur to yourself.

After double, then triple checking that you had everything, you said goodbye to the tiny little shack that— for a few weeks— you called home. The air outside was still somewhat pleasant, a bit chilly, but the sun shining down on your face provided a comforting warmth. On your map, you had marked a town northwest of where you were currently residing. It was a little over twenty-five miles away but even if you walked at a somewhat leisurely pace, you should be able to make it to the outskirts of the town at the very least.

A heavy sigh escapes you as you adjust the straps of your backpack. Despite the lack of general supplies, you pack still bares a hefty weight, your shoulders aching. You place your map into your backside pocket, making sure it's securely in there before you cease your fidgeting.

Dead leaves crunch beneath your boots, a quiet symphony in the otherwise near silence of the woods. Occasionally, you can hear birds chirping and woodpeckers pecking, or small herds of deer scampering around in the more grassy areas of the woods, but other than that it's just you and the sounds of your thoughts. You think so much and yet so little. There isn't much to think about now anyways, you travel alone, you have been nearly the entire time. There was no more meaningless chatter that made long, idle days go by. Only you and your fleeting thoughts.

When the outbreak first started, you spent a lot of time mourning the life you had, the life you could've had. The people you knew, the people you could have met. So many unfulfilled aspirations that have been buried, long forgotten and withered away. You were content to let yourself die in that sketchy motel, to be a decomposed body for someone to find, if anyone did. Truthfully, if a small group of brave— or perhaps stupid— survivors, didn't drag you out of that motel, you would be dead. You never had any intention of surviving, the only reason you've gone on so long isn't because you want to survive, it's because it's instinct.

Perhaps instinct is enough. You hope it isn't enough.

You arrive at the outskirts of town after the sun had begun to set. The town is oddly eerie, oddly quiet. You had expected there to be a handful of infected, maybe a few dead bodies awaiting to turn, but there was nothing. If things hadn't been so deteriorated you might have been able to believe this town was as lively as it had been before the outbreak.

This had to be someone's hunting ground, you were damn near sure of it, there is no other explanation for the… order this place was in. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a chilling shiver runs down your spine. You're half tempted to bolt, to turn around and find another town to hunt for supplies at, but candidly, you know you don't have that kind of time. The sun was practically gone and you swear that you can feel someone's eyes on you. You let out a weary sigh, clutching the straps of your backpack a little bit tighter, before making your way further into town.

In some strange way, the fact that the town seemed so lived in— if you could put it that way— was more unsettling than any pervious abandoned town you've been to. If you weren't for the fact that you were close to defecating on yourself, you might have laughed. As you walk through the town, past grocery stores and gas stations, the wind whips past you, whispering unintelligible words in your ears. The sky is all shades of dark purples and pinks, if it were the times before, you'd think it was a nice evening.

You're lucky enough to find a small house in decent shape, the roof is still intact and most of the walls could withstand a decent windstorm. You don't plan on staying long anyways, you just need to find supplies to last you through winter, once you're all stocked up you plan on finding a more suitable place to hibernate for the winter.

The inside of the house was cold, but you don't let yourself complain too much, you know it's better than being stuck outside. You set down your backpack on the couch, the fabric of it faded and dirty. If you look closely enough you think you can make out some kind of floral pattern. You take a weapon out of your pack, a standard pistol that still feels too foreign in your hand for the amount of time you've had to use it. You keep it clutched tightly, and you can feel the cool metal sting your raw hands.

You clear the rest of the downstairs as well as the upstairs, making sure any point of possible entry was secure. Once you were sure no one could get in from the outside, you plopped yourself onto the firm cushions of the couch, an exasperated sigh leaving you lips. You're sure you won't be getting much sleep tonight, this town much to eerie and this house much to silent for your liking.

You think you'd be used to the silence by now.

The next morning you're up bright and early, as you expected, sleep escaped you for most of the night. You were only able to sleep for maybe thirty-minutes at a time, the silence causing your mind to conjure up sounds that are less than pleasant. You begrudgingly rise from the couch, your bones cracking as you do so. The plan for today is simple, grab supplies— enough to last through most, if not all of winter— and go. You already marked another town on you map, it's further in the mountains so hopefully the houses that are there are mostly untouched.

You make sure your gun is fully loaded, double checking that the safety is on, before you slip it into that little gap between your shirt and your jeans. On your way into town you noticed a few stores that looked like the might still have some stuff in them, a couple of them even still had their windows boarded up, so you decided those places would be your best bet. A couple days ago you were able to write down a list of the things you needed, it was secured inside your jacket pocket. That meant at the very least, you didn't have to spend longer than necessary in this freaky town.

The mere thought of it sent shivers down your spine.

You're not sure where things went wrong, when things went wrong. You were able to clear out the stores you wanted to and then some, everything was going so well until it wasn't. You had moved on to the last store you'd been eyeing, a general supply store. It looked pretty empty but you were sure you could find something useful in it, unassuming items that most would pass up.

As you expected the store was pretty much empty. Most major supplies like weapons, canned goods, and first aids kit were already gone, but you'd expected as much. You decided to look for supplies on the ground and on the shelves that were further back, the wood rotted and dusty and the sky blue paint that coated it now chipped. The sun hadn't even reached it's highest peak yet, and you were content to take your time and explore each and every crevice of this near empty store.

You regret your choice to poke around in that damn store.

You were in the store for maybe fifteen minutes— if that. You had found a small handful of useful things; A survival handbook— which you're very surprised people passed up— a few things you could use fire starters, and a travel size first aid kit that got kicked under one of the shelves. As you were putting the last few items in your pack, a shadowy figure moved in your peripheral vision. Before you had time to investigate, or really even process what you saw, you feel a gun pressed to the temple of your skull.

Your body went rigid as you felt the cool muzzle of the gun against your skin. You immediately look up— eyes only of course— and see three very mean looking men, a sick grin plastered on each one of their ugly faces.

"Hey there pretty lady… What are ya doin out here all alone?" The man speaks, his voice seemingly booming in such a silent space.

They're waiting for you to answer, that much is obvious, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and your heart is seizing in your chest. You hear a click, the bastard holding the gun turned the fucking safety off. Part of you is tempted to let yourself die, what good has come from fighting to survive? You have nothing to show for it, you're still struggling, you're still alone. A quick and merciful death is exactly the freedom you've been praying for.

Then, your adrenaline kicks in. Why should these assholes chose if you get to live or die? Why would you grant them the pleasure of taking your life, the life you've fought so hard for? Before you have the chance to think through your actions, you move.

Bang!

The gun goes off.

You run. You're not sure how long you've been running, you just know that it's been long enough for your lungs to start burning, the cold air you inhale with each panting breath prickling your throat.

And worse, you're bleeding, your heart is pumping so fast that it's speeding up the blood loss process. You'd managed to turn the gun on, someone, and take them out, but one of the other guys managed to more than graze you with his machete. When you bolted you had to leave all of the supplies you'd gathered so you have absolutely no way to patch yourself up. The edges of your vision are starting to blur and it feels like someone is pricking your lungs with thousands of tiny needles. Branches and dead leaves crunch beneath your feet, and it feels like it's getting harder for you to get a good footing on the soil under you. You honestly don't care about the noise your making, your loud footsteps and labored breathing boisterous in the silence of the night.

You're running out of stamina, and your body is growing weaker by the minute. If it was brighter outside, you'd be able to see the trail of blood you're leaving behind, a stark contrast to the brown and muddy orange leaves. Your running has turned into walking, and your walking has turned into a pathetic limp, you don't know how much longer you can go on. For a moment you think that this is where you'll die, in the middle of the woods, a rotting carcass left for the carnivores of the forest to feast on. But then, you see it, a beacon of hope, a place to shelter. At the very least if you die, you'll die in a home. Not your home but a home.

Right now, that's enough for you.

[inknhon3y]

hey yall... so I'm sorry i've been gone for so long, I promise I haven't forgotten about this blog! I've been depressed and busy LMFAO- i hope to get back to writing soon <3

[inknhon3y]

hi guys sorry for being absent... i will try and get another drabble out today or tmr (i already have a few asks so thank you for that <3!) im actually taking my finals rn im kinda busy but graphic nature chapter two is in the works and once its about halfway done i'll publish graphic nature part 1... a few of the asks are about baby daddy jj so i will try to get one of those out today or tmr!

[inknhon3y]

how did you start writing fanfiction?

i had concepts of ideas...

[inknhon3y]

okay elaborating—

(credits to whoever started the like animal vibe readers for obx (sorry i'm not sure who it is D:) ; i've seen a lot of different versions of them so here's mine)

jj x kitty!reader

kitty is jj's weird girlfriend— i imagine she's the kind of girl who's really off putting, thousand yard stare kinda thing... she likes classic horror novels and movies (but she despises those cheesy 80 horror movies, shes a classic media snob) she owns a walkman and an mp3 player, she's listenting to music 90% of the day. not a super social girl and she's kinda bitchy but in the way that isn't displeasing just kinda off putting...

pope x deer!reader

deer is pope's weird girlfriend— she's the kinda girl who finds dead bugs and pins then inside shadowboxes... she also collects rocks and 90% of the time pope comes over he has a bag of rocks or dead bugs for her. she's super into the erotica genre of books and movies but not in a like gooner way... she likes tasteful erotica but she also enjoys cheesy feel good romcoms. a sweetheart but really shy, took pope months before he finally had a productive conversation with her.

pope and jj would both have weird girlfriends but in different ways... i will be elaborating on this later

[inknhon3y]

this is how i feel about rafe btw.

Do you want rafe to go to prison

well i want him to die

[inknhon3y]

bless wes anderson because now i can imagine a cute childhood romance between you and pope moonrise kingdom style— he's sam obvi and you're suzy :(

[inknhon3y]

pope and jj would both have weird girlfriends but in different ways... i will be elaborating on this later

[inknhon3y]

Umbilical

(or baby daddy jj)

Content Warning: None, unedited (sorry i'm not done with this lmfao)

Word Count: 317

You're lounging on the couch when you hear a knock at your door, the noise barely louder than the old western playing on your boxy tv. You sigh, irked that your mind numbing peace has be disturbed.

You drag yourself off the couch and to your front door, wondering who the hell wants your attention this late at night. You bend down slightly, one eye closed while the other looks out the peephole. A sigh escapes your lips when you see who's on the other side of your door, none other than jj maybank.

Straightening yourself out, you fiddle with the deadlocks on your door before swinging it open, the cool night air being a welcoming reprieve from the hot inside. jj stops fidgeting the second you open the door, his body stiffening for a moment before running a hand through his messy blonde hair.

"Uh— hi." He says softly, his eyes barely meeting yours.

You scoff, he smells like cigarettes and anxiety.

"Why are you here jj?" You lean against the doorframe, eyeing him with annoyance.

"I just got off work and I wanted to see her... and you, honestly." He's fidgeting again, pulling at his belt loop.

The sight makes you smile for a moment, a reminder that underneath everything, he's still him.

"She's already asleep..." Your voice is softer this time, you can hear it and god— you hate how soft he makes you.

He nods at your words, looking around for a moment before leaning in closer to you.

"Can I still come in?" He smirks

"jj don't-" You go to interrupt him but he stops you.

"Please?"

Fuck. That asshole.

He gives you that look, the look that makes it so hard to say no. You try to, biting your lip, letting the word "no" roll around on your tongue.

"Okay..." You say finally.

He smirks at you knowingly, ushering you inside while he follows close behind.

You wish you could say no to him, but you both know better than that.

baby daddy jj would be such a pain in the ass.. showing up to your place at random times to "see the baby" when really he just misses you...

[inknhon3y]

EATS HIM

he finally got that coconut water he asked for

[will be doing all four of them btw (*^ω^*)]

[inknhon3y]

graphic nature chapter one is alr finished... it's been in my drafts for a WHILE but i don't wanna post it until im at least halfway done with chapter 2 and idk when that will be...

[inknhon3y]

drabble about this coming tmr btw ^^

baby daddy jj would be such a pain in the ass.. showing up to your place at random times to "see the baby" when really he just misses you...

[inknhon3y]

Graphic Nature: Prologue

(or the cod zombie au)

Word Count: 980

Content Warnings: Mentions of sickness (the outbreak), Mentions of death, Fem reader; nothing much yet because I have no clue if this is something; self edited!

You remember when it started, the news broadcasts that were airing worldwide, the whispers about some "strange new sickness." You didn't pay much attention to the warnings, foolishly, you even brushed them off as normal. People got sick often, and most of the time they figured out whatever the problem aliment was long before it became an outbreak, long before it became a real issue.

That was your mistake, you think. The universe sent out its warning and you refused to heed them.

"Have you been keeping up with the news?" A soft voice says into the stillness of the breakroom. You look up to see your coworker, Evelyn, standing in the doorway.

"No?" Your tone is laced with confusion and you furrow your brows at her slightly. "What's on the news?"

Evelyn pulls out the chair next to you and sits down, her long, thin fingers cradling a cup of coffee. She leans closer to you, lowering her voice like a gossiping schoolgirl.

"Haven't you heard about all those people getting sick? It's some kind of weird virus. Apparently—" She blows on the hot liquid in her cup before taking a long sip from it, as if to emphasize the seriousness of her next words. "It's being said that people who have gotten sick end up turning into… zombies"

You snort curtly, your shoulders jutting upwards.

"I'm not sure you should believe that, it's probably just something people are making up, you know? Humanity has an odd fascination with things like that." Evelyn hums thoughtfully at that, swishing the now lukewarm liquid around in her mug.

"Maybe. I like to believe the news has more merit than that though… Or maybe I enjoy a good conspiracy." She chuckles at herself, light and airy.

You nod in understanding at her words, a small smile gracing your lips.

She seems content to leave the conversation there, allowing you to idle on your phone for the remainder of your half-hour lunch break.

You paid no attention to her for the rest of the time you were in the breakroom. Looking back at it, you wish you had.

When you pulled into your neighborhood, the block you lived on was cordoned off, and neighbors and other passersby were stuck behind black and yellow tape. The sight caused your face to scrunch in equal parts frustration and curiosity. Police cars, fire trucks, and EMTs lined whatever street that lay beyond the tape, emergency personnel huddled into many different groups. If you looked closely enough, you could see the serious expressions that lie on their faces.

You tentatively exit your vehicle, searching for a familiar face to seek answers from. Eventually, In the small crowd of people, you spot your next-door neighbor. You gently push your way through the crowd, catching pieces of clipped conversations and hushed whispers.

"Did you hear what happened?"

"I think her husband was sick, maybe he got her sick too…"

"Do you think it has something to do with that freak new virus?"

When you reach your neighbor, he looks lost in thought, his eyes fogged over as he stares ahead but doesn't really look.

"Evening Mr. William." You say softly, wanting to catch his attention without startling him.

He hums softly before he looks up at you, finally acknowledging your presence, and gives you a quick but weary smile.

You smile back.

"Hey darlin', how are you?" He asks kindly.

"I'm okay…" You answer quickly, cutting off any opportunity for small talk. "Um, what happened? I've never seen this many police cars in this area… ever, actually."

He sighs like he was expecting you to ask, and it gives you the impression that he doesn't want to answer.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brown were found uh- unresponsive in their home bout' an hour ago." You wince, an unpleasant sensation crawling up your spine.

"Was it a homicide?" He sighs, shaking his head at you.

"They think it has somethin' to do with that new sickness goin' round'. The whole area is blocked off until hazmat gets here. Hopefully, we get to head on home soon." A gentle murmur of acknowledgment leaves your lips at his words.

"Can I sit with you until we can go back home?" He gives you a gentle nod.

"Course' darlin', I don't mind that one bit." You smile at him, grateful for his company.

You wish you would have cherished it more. You didn't get to go home, and you never saw Mr. William again.

About an hour after your original chat with your neighbor, the chief of police told anyone within a 10 mile radius to leave the area and wait for an official order to come back. They promised it wouldn't be more than a few weeks time, though you were a bit miffed that you weren't even allowed to grab a few personal items from home.

Your neighbors who couldn't get to their cars were picked up by cabs, friends, family, and even people from neighboring blocks. You were lucky enough to still have your car, and you offered a ride to Mr. William's but he declined, assuring you he'd see you in a few days time.

You stopped at a gas station to grab some necessities before holing up at a random motel. It was a bit sketchy and the sheets reeked of something putrid, but you told yourself it would only be a few days.

If only things turned out that way.

Not long after you were settled— as much as one could be anyway— an emergency alert for your local area went out;

ATTENTION: Emergency shelter-in-place warning! Residents of the area are not permitted to leave their dwellings until shelter-in-place has been lifted!

When the notification appeared across the top of your screen, somewhere deep within you, you knew, this was the beginning of the end.

[inknhon3y]

baby daddy jj would be such a pain in the ass.. showing up to your place at random times to "see the baby" when really he just misses you...

[inknhon3y]

Tag Navigation

honeyreblogs -- my reblogs ⭐

honeyedwords -- my fics ( usually 1k words+) ⭐

honeyjar -- my drabbles and thoughts ⭐

coddrabbles -- all cod drabbles ⭐

obxdrabbles -- all obx drabbles ⭐

For character specific drabbles, search that characters name and drabble after (i.e price drabbles)