𝓘𝓶𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓒𝓸𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓬 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 [PRISMO X READER]

CH. 3 || Hungover

Logs : holy shit, thanks for 50+ views, it's- like, a record for me. Sorry for the wait, here's the new chapter. No real warnings, just mondaine problems. Word Count : 2215.

Your eyes slowly open like if you got knocked out cold last night by a hammer, as you suddendly feel a headache before even comprehending where you are. You're home. You dont know why you're home, but you are. Last night must've gone wild, let's hope you came back home by yourself because that would have not been that awkward. Laying over your bed without your covers above you, you reach your alarm clock (which hasnt ringed yet because it's broken) and glare at it. You putted it back there after you got up last day without realising, gosh dongs it. You raise your back from the covers of your comfy bed and rub your head, groaning with utter pain from a hangover. Glob, you hate hangovers. Each time you say "Glob" you kinda forget that guy is a real person, wonder where he's been recently. You haven't seen him since he gave you finger guns while passing by him once at the public cosmic supermarket.

You look in your pocket and find your phone, you open it, type the password, miss it, do it again then get blinded by the light. None of that helped your awful sight right now, as it was blury now sightless. You dont see any notifications, but you expected one from Cosmic Owl telling you what happened last night. You crawl out of bed like some angry beasts creeping out of its cave and stare back at your phone afterwards, do you even need to get up this morning? Its the weekend. Atleast, maybe you can relax and do something truly routinal, like... watching TV. Everybody loves TV, right? probably, but you dont give a fuck. You open that one music app and scroll throught your playlist, unclean, unorganized songs you just like. You put on some random song by Odertooti ft. T0t4llyh00man and change from your normal attire to your pyjamas respectfully, it's been a while since you passed a day in those. Maybe you should clean them up tomorrow? Blehh, who cares. You walk over to the TV, your brain stuck on the song that played from the phone you held. You stuck yourself into some cool scenarios until you closed the app and letted it stop after a few long seconds. Your hand(or one of them) reaches for the TV remote and let your finger linger on the "turn on" button... Haha, turn on. Your finger softly circled around the small circle, as if massaging it. You know, turned on, when sexually aroused? Glob thats fucking stupid. Let's hope you didn't do something embarassing related to that at the party last night. Why would you? You're classy, a classy person who only gets clingy like that when- Fucking forget it. You press your finger on the little thing, turning on your TV.

"'Cheers' is filmed by a live studio audience."

you fucking hate that show, yet whenever it's on, you watch it. It reminds you about how mortals can have such a fullfilled life while you immortals are forced to do this for eternity, linger on the knowledge you infinitely have and cannot end it. If GGGG's actually dead and that's why you havent seen them, then their the luckiest bunch of guys you know. Wasn't capable to pull any bitches, tho. You sometimes think every cosmic entities are suicidal over living for so long and seeing so much normal poeple die, even if you're all rated "better than the fools in universes". You switch channel, there's never anything interesting, either sitcoms, news or some shitty movies. You go back to the shitty drinking sitcom and let yourself doze into thoughts. Yet, the second you try again the headache hits you like a sting. Need... water.. You slowly get up and stumble towards your sink in such a shitty cosmic appartement and grab a glass you only use for water to fill it up, chugging the liquid down afterwards. Somebody would probably find you hot in such a state, maybe. Why are you thinking of that? Fucking gross for you. You rub your temples and hiss, gosh, you feel like you're gonna pass out. You were almost sweating by being so overwhelmed with a hangover, so you slip your phone out of your PJ's pockets and open it again. You feel rather mondained about being blinded by the brightness, therefore you easily sigh and slip into your message app. What the fuck. There's some new rando in your contacts, some guy named- Oh, it's Prismo. Wait, Prismo?? Glob, you did some shit last night to let yourself have a guy's number, did you? You assure you didnt DM some stupid shit, which thank Glob you didnt. You're saying Glob too much. Thanks- Golb? nah, that thing's the embodiment of chaos. Atleast you're thanking it to not have made anarchy happen between you two via that app. You go back out and tap on Cosmic Owl, glaring at the last messages you sent eachother.