Joes before hoes.

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Author's note: Wow, that last chapter was weirdly serious, I actually took my time to make it somewhat decent and presentable. I realized it's kinda difficult to shove romance into stupid situations. SIGGHHHH- that's what co-writers are for.
(This chapter might also be a bit more serious??? Not sure yet.)
(Update from the future: it does. 😭 )

Tw// Depictions of blood, violence and a little bit of bug alcohol.

Also credit to Edd (and dingo on the right) for this chapter's stupid image lmao, drew it during the third chapter's writing. 👍

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You wake up in a blasting cold sweat, your skin aching and twisted as you find yourself in the weirdest sleeping position known to man. You got exactly 22 minutes of sleep, as the majority of the night (2 hours) was spent with you daydreaming about your DISGUSTING ABOMINATIONS- I mean, wonderful, beautiful family with G.J. You stare at the crumbling ceiling above you, your eyes strained as you sit up and rub them with the tips of your fingers. You look over at Joe beside you, sleeping peacefully on his side. The spine-chilling air that breathed through the open window gently nudged you towards him. Watching him turn away from you as he curled up under the covers, you giggle like a gremlin locked in a cellar. A large toothy grin slid onto your face as you crawl off the bed and down the stairs, ready to give Joe the best house clean up anyone could ask for.

("Kekekekekeke." -your laugh probably)

Once you get to the first god awful floor, you see Gerbo laying on his back on the couch, sleeping with a small droplet of drool hanging out his agape mouth. You scurry over, looming over him as your faint shadow blocked the moonlight that highlighted his skin.

"Oh Gerbo..."

You smile as you grab him by the arms and shake him around in the air like an old stuffed toy, Hanging him around 2 or so feet off the ground so you're eye level to him.

"WAKE UP! ITS CHORE TIME, SPIDER BITCH! I gotta be a good house spouse for my future husband- I mean, Best friend."

He yelps with a following shocked snort as he flails his limbs, he squeals in fear before laying limp once he realized it was just you. He grumbles, his eyes shutting tight as his tiny eyebrows furrowed with his sour expression.

"But sleeep..."

"There's no time, Gerbo! This place is literally on life support, we're gunna die if we don't do something."

You explain your situation as he flails more in your grip, trying to reach the ground below and failing. He whines, clearly upset because he only got one to two hours of sleep at most.

"Can't we do it later?... Bugbo usually starts things when it's in the afternoon!"

"Well, I ain't Bugbo, so we're doing it now. Cope... you'll get a break after an hour." <3

You drop him on the floor as he used 6 of his limbs to land with the other two grabbing onto the couch for extra support. You brush your palms off and look around the trashed area. You hustle along, going from torn up room to torn up room - probably making more of a mess as you fly around looking for shit (thank Bugbo for that broken wing).

After around five minutes, you find a bunch of mildly broken tools and bring them over to the living room, aka where Gerbo's at. You throw two brooms at Gerbo's face, causing him to fall over once he had actually got to his feet. He makes a sound similar to that of a chihuahua in a blender as you continue to place down your stuff. You put your hands on your hips and look at the tools you swiped. A hammer, a wrench, a saw, a screwdriver, a scrub plan, a spatula, a crucifix, police owned murder evidence, chloroform and some rope- wait, wrong list, spoilers. AHEM, and a singular spoon. Gerbo looks over after pushing away the two brooms you threw onto him.

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