You had just come back from school, and the moment you walked through the front door, it didn’t take long for Chucky to spot you. He was lounging on the couch, his little plastic face twisted in annoyance from whatever he’d been watching on TV, but the moment his eyes fell on you, he immediately noticed something was off. You were looking down, your shoulders slumped in a way that made it obvious you’d had a rough day.

Chucky didn’t waste any time. His gaze sharpened, and his tone was as blunt as ever. “The fuck is your problem..?” he shot, narrowing his eyes. You could practically feel the snark rolling off him. The last thing you needed right now was his usual attitude.

But before you could answer or roll your eyes, Tiffany’s voice rang out from the kitchen. She had heard Chucky, and from the way she looked at him, you could tell she wasn’t impressed with his approach. With a sharp look of her own, she sighed heavily, then turned her attention to you.

“Yeah, what’s the matter, sweetface..?” Tiffany’s voice was softer than Chucky’s, almost motherly in its concern, though still with that signature edge to it. She set down whatever she had been working on in the kitchen and moved towards you, her heels clicking lightly against the floor as she joined you in the living room. The way her eyes softened as she looked at you showed she wasn’t just asking for the sake of it — she actually cared.

Chucky grumbled and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes dramatically. He clearly thought Tiffany was being way too nice. But you could tell he was still waiting for you to speak up, even if his rough exterior made it hard to show he also cared.