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mel-the-fangirl · 3 years

Text

The Escort

Walter Marshall x Reader

Words: 2,064

Warnings: none

Happy super late Valentine’s, Cavillry! As usual, this is a very very late upload but in my defense, it does say in my bio that I am a procrastinator soooo... Anyway, I’m really excited about this miniseries because I love the movie (The Wedding Date, 2005) and I really wanted to write Walter, I hope I do him justice!

Feedback (good and bad!) means the world to me as rookie writer, so I hope you’ll like, reblog and leave me some replies!

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You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn't. But there you were doing it, even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.

The fact that you even considered doing this was already a serious loss of dignity points, so what the hell. People did this all the time, didn’t they? There wouldn’t be a whole network of people clumped into this app if it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

It just wasn’t a normal occurrence for you.

Once you filled your head with rationalisations to make yourself feel better, you took a deep breath and began browsing through what the great city of New York had to offer.

Z, 6’, loving hands, fit, athletic, good manners, for water sports, caramel complexion.

For water sports? What in the hell did that mean? And that single initial in place of an actual name? Serial killer vibes. No, thank you.

Lenny, 6’2”, pretty fit Italian, excellent dinner companion, all occasions catered.

Alright. Okay. Now we’re talking. Tall, European, excellent dinner companion equals to good conversationalist, accommodating. Lenny goes on the list of possibilities.

Terry, 6’, my soft voice will arouse you, my strong hands will pleasure you, let me show you how a woman should be treated, hourly/overnight rates.

Oh no no no. Major creep vibes from Terry. That ad alone had you reaching for another long swig of wine.

Joey, 5’8”, are you into champagne?, bodybuilder, will treat you like a queen.

“If you like piña coladas…” you sang in not even remotely the right key, topping off your drink

Josh, 5’9”, I can make you feel sexy and wanted. Fit, sensual, strong.

“Well!” you exclaimed drunkenly, almost spilling wine on your couch, “Tough beans, Josh! I don’t need a man to make me feel sexy and wanted!” you faltered a bit, your drunk mind still seeing the holes in your logic

“I just… Need a man to help me not look like a tragic spinster in front of my family and my ex...”

With that thought fresh in your mind, you reached for some more wine.

The ads went on and on as you scrolled through your phone, it was all a little overwhelming, how were you going to make sure you weren't hiring some psychopathic serial killing pervert to pose as your date to your sister's wedding?

The groan you let out bounced off the walls of your apartment. The reality of your situation was sinking in little by little.

Yes. You were hiring a male escort for your sister's wedding. It was your baby sister's wedding, by the way. You were a hundred percent aware that what you were doing was completely and utterly pathetic but you’ve already weighed the pros and cons in your head countless times.

Showing up alone: pitying looks, whispering behind your back, having to face ex by yourself, staggering levels of embarrassment.

Showing up with handsome -hired- date: mother can finally get off your back, date is more handsome than ex, ex will want to shrivel up and die, no one will know date is male escort except you and him.

Now, let’s break down some of the guests just for the sake of being thorough.

There’s your slightly overbearing mother (slightly meaning every call you have with her opens with the question: “how's your love life, dear?” or “I have the most amazing man to set you up with!”), all of her judgy eagle-eyed friends (mostly rich widows whose sons your mom shamelessly shoves your way), your extended family (some terrifyingly old school great aunts and uncles who will definitely ask if you’re married and smile sympathetically when you say you’re not), and last but certainly not the least, Jeffrey, your ex-fiancé (best man, but apparently not the best man for you, his words not yours).

"Lordy fuck." you exhaled hard, chugging your wine straight from the bottle

How on earth did you get here? Sitting alone in your apartment, working your way through your second bottle of wine (or third? Who was keeping count?), clicking on ads that spoke of "hot single males in your area" waiting to meet you.

Would it be fair to pin it all on the end of your engagement?

Picturing that moment, you decided that it was only fair. Those were five years of your life you would never get back, you were prepared to sign on for more but, yeah.

You were blindsided, that's the only way to describe it. All the while, you thought that you and Jeffrey were on the same page, at the same place in life. You were the golden couple, the couple that all the other couples wished they could be, when you two walked past, girlfriends would give their boyfriends a slap on the shoulder that meant, "Why can't we be more like them?"

It was so out of nowhere, one minute you were discussing wedding cake options over dinner, then suddenly you're putting the ring in his palm, completely in shock.

After that, you threw yourself into your work despite the fact that you were already a budding workaholic to begin with. That's how you ended up earning six figures a year.

Six figure salary, check. Doing pretty well in life all things considered, check.

But even with all that, there weren't any conversations over casseroles and cobblers about your many achievements. Nope, your mother and her friends would much rather discuss their worries that you would essentially, die alone.

Your little sister, Amy, getting married before you didn't exactly help to put a lid on all the chatter. And with Jeffrey being the best man? And you being maid of honour?

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe you could make up an excuse believable enough to get you off the hook so you wouldn’t have to go?

Were you really thinking about bailing on your little sister’s wedding? If she wasn’t taking cues from your mother, it would be the only one she ever had.

Not one of your finest moments as a sibling.

With the complications of your situation fully realised, you took to reading the ads with a little more effort. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for long.

Nick, 6’, male, tall, good looking, strong build. You will not be disappointed.

The ad was considerably less flashy than the others but you supposed that’s what drew you to it in the first place. It was understated, simple, and his ad wasn’t entirely made up of overcompensating flexing pics.

Mostly because he didn’t need them.

Call off the search, send the boys home. You had a winner here!

Staring up at you from your phone screen was the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life. Literally.

A mane of thick, artfully disheveled curly hair, eyes that were a light shade of blue that had a sort of dark intensity and intelligence that you could spend days trying to understand, and a smile. Oh, that smile was absolutely suckerpunching. It was odd though, something in your head was telling you that this man did not smile often.

You couldn’t tell if the warmth blooming in your chest and creeping towards your cheeks was from all the wine or from examining this prime specimen. Jeez Louise!

“Phew!” you fanned yourself upon stumbling on a photo of him crossing his arms in a tank top. Good God, you hoped he had a license for those guns!

You had to set your phone down for a minute to think things through although it seemed absolutely nuts that you had to think twice at all. It’s just that after the initial excitement and hormones wore off, it was becoming more and more evident that this man was too good to be true.

Just look at him! Were there actually men that looked like that? And why didn’t they live closer to you? A quick sweep of his profile placed him in Minneapolis.

What were the crime rates like there? And did they have a high rate of murders relating to escort services?

Before you could even google anything related to that, you stopped yourself. If you kept at this rate, you would never get anything done! Finally, after a methodical deliberation (aka ogling the pictures on his ad), you saved Nick’s contact number to your phone.

Aaand that’s as far as you’d go for the night. You could call him tomorrow when you weren’t a floundering drunk. It was like your mother always said, “Always be sober for a business transaction, but anything else calls for a cocktail.”

-------------------------

The following morning, you sat at your little breakfast nook, eggs still piping hot and untouched, and a hangover in full effect. You’ve been staring at the phone number for so long, you could say it in your sleep.

Come on, Y/N, the wedding is five freaking days away.

What if this guy was fully booked? You didn’t want to spend five days surrounded by family with Mr. my-soft-voice-will-arouse-you, did you?

You slammed your finger down on the call icon and stuck the phone to your ear. Your heart beat faster and faster with every ring and your palms became so slick with sweat that you almost dropped your phone a couple of times.

Maybe you should have taken your mother up on the multiple occasions that she wanted to set you up with someone. Alright, on second thought, you didn’t really want to be with someone who only looked good on paper but was actually an insufferable mama’s boy.

“Hello?” a male voice answered, catching you off-guard

Oh, God. Okay, you’re really doing this.

“Yes, hi! Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Nick!” you chirped, in a startled high pitched squeak you didn’t dare recognise as your own

The silence on the other end was starting to make you sweat behind the knees. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t mention any specifics.

“Uh, sorry! I got this number from the, uh, the ad. I’m looking for Nick?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right, but Nick isn’t in right now. This is his manager.”

Was that a good sign? That a male escort had a manager? Did all male escorts have managers? You clearly didn’t know enough about this stuff.

“It’s a pleasure, Mister..?”

There was another beat of silence before the person on the other line answered, you tried your hardest not to overthink about what that could have meant.

“Foley! I’m Foley, Nick’s manager.” Mr. Foley’s voice returned to your ear, sounding much too bright for your liking.

Christ, what were you, a cop? To be honest, you were exhausted. Despite all the alcohol in your system last night, you barely got any sleep. You spent the rest of the night reading through some reviews of Nick’s service as an escort.

He had a glittering five star rating.

One woman hired him to pose as her husband at a high school reunion and by the end of the night, she ended up proposing to him. He respectfully declined and even bought her dinner afterwards.

That review alone was enough to convince you that you would be in good hands. So, it was time to buckle down, swallow the nerves, and handle your business like the adult you were.

“Mr. Foley,” you shook your hair out and put on your professional voice. “I’d like to book your client for five days, give or take. I need a plus one for a wedding. Is he available to leave on the-”

“Please hold. I’ll check his schedule.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mention when I-”

“He’s available. Would you prefer to pick him up at JFK or will he meet you at your place of residence?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I could pick him up. Do I pay for his ticket or..?” you were feeling a teensy bit of whiplash at how fast this was all going

There was some rustling on the other line and the muffled sounds of bickering. You tried not to let that concern you.

“We’ll handle that, Ms. Y/L/N. We have your number, we’ll be in touch for further details. Good bye.”

The line went dead and you were left staring at your phone in confusion. Did you tell him your name?

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ellebabywrites · 4 years

Text

The Hitman - In Exodus

Type : Oneshot (Part of The In Exodus Series) // Angst // Fluff // Smut // Cartel!au

Warnings : angst, death, cussing

Author Note : This took me far too long and had my anxieties far too high. I’m finally happy with how it turned out and hope you all enjoy it too !! Please give me some feedback because I’ve worked so hard on this chapter..

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀*⋆.*:*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆**･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ☾

The smell of freshly baked croissants flood the streets, a sign that the Bakery is about to open and the day beginning. Shutters rise and doors open. The busting workers of Exodus bracing for the day ahead; a day of sales to kids who can barely walk straight with the amount of poison saturating their bloodstream; a day of fighting with the guy from down the road who insists that things were ‘cheaper last week’; a day of overworking for much less of a profit than it’s all worth. Living the dream.

The bakery was different though. Something about it felt like home, and everyone treated it as such. It was the only building for miles that wasn’t painted in graffiti, the only business that was doing well for itself, a little slice of goodness in the middle of all that bad.

That’s what everyone thinks anyway.

Across the street, Jongin is watching through the scope of his rifle. Watching the Baker unlock his doors and flip the closed sign to open. He scoffs. Such a poser.

Saying Jongin enjoyed his job would be pushing it; how much enjoyment can one really get from taking a life without being a psychopath? But he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to taking out this one particular man.

He watches the Baker great the first of his customers with a toothy grin, hugging Mrs Jamison when she comes in for her regular morning pastry. If only Mrs Jamison knew all the dirty things that man had been doing with the hand she shakes so willingly.

The town’s beloved Baker wasn’t nearly as squeeky clean as he liked everyone to believe. After hours, he found himself in SUjU territory, hanging out with drug runners, dancing around the subject of Exodus till the haze of alcohol took control, divulging any and all information that might get him another drink.

Pathetic Jongin thinks, noticing how the Baker danced around his customers with such fictitious glee, as if he hadn’t sold them out a hundred times over.

Again, not to say EXO were any better, but surely there should be some sense of town loyalty right? Jongin thinks so; making this particular betrayal all the more infuriating and his death all the more inevitable.

Jongin lines up the crosshairs of his gun against the Baker’s head, having the courtesy to wait for the shop to empty. One. The corner of his lips pull into a smirk, the buildup of adrenaline flooding his veins working as his own personal high. Two. Is it sick to say he can’t wait to kill this guy? Maybe? He deserves it Jongin thinks, afterall, he did try and ruin their business for a few shots of tequila. Thr…

“Hey Joey!”

So close…

“Well this is a surprise! How’re you today darlin’?”

Usually, you would only visit Joey’s bakery at the end of the week, needing some sort of sugary treat to get through the piles of work you had to do; but today your classes were cut short and you were gagging for something with chocolate.

“Our professor had to leave early and a girl needs her goodies!” You joked, leaning against the counter.

Joey had been a staple in Exodus for your entire life, the man was everybody’s uncle, everybody’s friend, you could talk to him about anything and your weekly visits had become a huge part of your routine.

“Good job I’ve got a whole bunch for you to choose from duck,” Joey laughs at how your eyes quickly scan over the trays of baked goods like you were a starving puppy, “Ooo I know what you should pick, I need someone to try out my new brownie recipe!”

Fuck. Joey moved away from Jongin’s line of fire just enough to grab the box of brownies from behind the counter, the perfect shot ruined by a few brownies.

“Well if you made them Joey then I’m sure they’re absolutely delicious!” you coo, giggling at how easily you can make him blush.

Just as you were about to leave and the Baker to return to the firing line, a rush of people came flooding into the small shop, putting a stop to whatever chance Jongin had at completing his mission right now.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nini groans in frustration, packing up his equipment quickly as to get away unnoticed, “he was right there, I could have had him!” It was frustrating sure, delaying his plans a few more hours before there would be another chance to take out his target; but there would be another chance and Jongin would get the job done. So while the sweet-toothed girl had momentarily saved old Joey’s life, it wouldn’t last much longer.

---

The clock read 11:57pm as you were hunched over on the living room floor, trying to finish this essay that you’d definitely not been putting off for weeks…

“Need ...sugar ...immediately..” you whine, dramatically throwing yourself across the floor to grab the box of brownies Baker Joe had gifted you earlier in the day. Mmnn, indulging yourself in the chocolatey goodness, you decide now is the perfect time for a break, only 6,000 words left to go anyway…

Completely oblivious to the ramifications those few brownies had had on the day for more than one party, you munched away the last of them, licking the crumbs from your fingertips and moaning at the euphoria a simple treat could bring.

‘Breaking news tonight : Beloved Exodus baker found dead. The 56 year old’s body was discovered an hour ago near his home, cause of death is officially named as a GSW through the neck…’

A chill runs up your spine as the news plays quietly from the television. Baker Joe was dead. Someone had killed him! You’re confused and hurt and angry all at once. Why would anyone want to hurt Joey? He was one of the only decent people in this shit-show of a city and now he was gone. Your eyes wander to the now empty box of goodies, the bakery’s logo printed on the front in swirly gold font and you feel the sudden need to cry, so you do.

---

Who did this guy think he was? An MX falcone wandering the streets of Exodus without a care in the world, stealing from the market stalls as he sauntered his way through the crowds. Minhyuk is his name. When Baekhyun had gotten word of their latest visitor, Jongin was immediately sent to take care of it. Honestly what did they think was going to happen? That they could just hang out in Exodus without consequence? That no one would be the least bit suspicious?

“You like the farmers market huh,” Jongin keeps a trained eye on Minhyuk as he moves from stall to stall. There were far too many people around for a direct hit so all he could do was watch and wait for the perfect opportunity.

“Why the fuck are you here?” He mumbled in annoyance, MX were getting far too comfortable for anyone’s liking; it was like the calm before the storm, except the storm was standing right in front of him chatting about produce with Mr Kim.

Suddenly, Minhyuk takes a sharp left, making his way out of the bustling crowd towards the alleys. He’d been made. Fuck. Following as quickly as he could, fighting his way through the sea of people, Jongin tries to keep up.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to get to…”

Minhyuk is fast, but maybe if you weren’t standing in front of him, blocking the way, Jongin would have been able to get him.

He doesn’t immediately recognise you. Your hair is tied differently and you’re wearing a different coat, but once Jongin places you as the girl from the bakery, he’s immediately on guard. Twice now you’ve gotten in the way of a hit. Could it just be a coincidence? Sure Exodus is small, you’re bound to run into the same people more than once. Baker Joe’s was a town staple and the market is always busy, but what are the chances? Jongin tries to side-step passed you, eyes scanning the crowds for Minhyuk, but you move along with him.

Holding out a map in front of him, you try again to ask for directions but Jongin doesn’t have time. He doesn’t have time to entertain the possibility that seeing you again could be anything but a coincidence, not when he’s about to lose yet another target.

“Move!”

You watch in astonishment as he pushes you out of the way before storming off. What an asshole you think; all you needed were directions, a simple no would have sufficed. Then again you’d come to expect nothing more from the people of Exodus. Sighing, you carry on your way alone, soon forgetting about the rude man you had met on the street.

---

8am lectures were the bain of your existence, but Professor Jeong’s class was always worth it.

Armed with a large cup of coffee and a stack of notes to aid you through, you made your way to an empty space near the front of the lecture hall. Biology never came easy to you, but the drive you had to succeed more than made up for it.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” Professor Jeong rushed into the busy hall, his own cup of coffee balancing on a pile of books clutched between his arms, “I got caught up with Professor Lyn, he’s such a ...fungi!”

The room fills with groans and muffled laughs at the attempt of a joke so early in the morning, but the Professor didn’t seem to mind. “Okay I’m sorry, let’s get into today. Can anyone tell me where we left off last week? Y/N?”

From the back of the room Jongin notices you.

“Oh you have to got to be kidding me..”

Once again, you happen to show up right in the middle of a job. There had to be a reason. There was no way this could be a coincidence anymore. Were you following him? Working with MX? Trying to get intel on EXO? Jongin didn’t know, but at this point he didn’t care. You were a problem.

Jeong was another star poser in Exodus. The esteemed environmental science professor, that drew students from across the country just to take his conservational bio class. The hotshot teacher who was already in the running for tenure. The slimy asshole that used his connections in the science world to help EXO’s competitors recreate their patented drug.

This was supposed to be an easy hit, wait till after class and use the pocket knife hidden in his belt to slit the professor’s throat before next period. But now, Jongin had to put those plans on hold so that he could figure out what to do about you.

---

Following you was far easier than Jongin had anticipated, thinking that he’d be kept on his toes trying to avoid getting caught, but you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that someone had been following you, watching your routines and judging them oh so harshly.

He kept his distance at first, observing from afar as you went about your daily activities. But soon enough, Jongin found himself immersed in the story that was your life. On the sidelines, a spectator, keeping mental notes of your behaviours.

Keeping space between you, Jongin follows you down the familiar street. He knows exactly where you’re going, the same place you’ve gone to for lunch every day that week. After your first class of the day you head straight to Lou’s café to grab something to eat and get some studying done. Like clockwork, the only thing to change was your order. Jongin would never admit that he’d grown to enjoy the establishment himself, but it was one of the least tedious moments of the day.

With the sky starting to darken in the cold weather, you fumble around your bag for your wallet amongst the loose scrunchies and old receipts, Jongin scoff in disbelief.

“How have you not been jumped yet?” He mumbled to himself. Before you’ve even walked through the café doors you have your money in hand, out in the open for anyone to take. Jongin had picked up on the blissful ignorance you had in regards to the danger in Exodus, instead, choosing to carry on carefree. Stupid he thinks.

Standing in line a few spots behind you, he watches as you let person after person cut in front and he just doesn’t get it. You only have an hour before the start of your next class and yet you’re willingly letting yourself be pushed back? People were clearly taking advantage of your kindness, but you were either incredibly stupid or didn’t care. When the older woman in front of you is a few dollars short, you don’t hesitate before lending her the difference, even putting back your own drink just so you could afford to help her. How could someone so generous be apart of something so evil? Then again, most of Exodus were playing that game.

Grabbing a coffee of his own, Jongin sits a table over from where you plant yourself, what had become your regular spots. Finding amusement in the way you struggle to fit both of your study books in the small space.

Now, only a short while before you needed to be back in class, you attempt to get as much work done while shoveling food down your throat as you could. Jongin thought it was hilarious, bar the tuna mayo that is. “Tuna? Really? It’s 11am jesus christ!” Maybe it was easy for him to judge you from a distance, but out of all the things he’d learnt, your love of tuna was the worst.

He watches your face scrunch and eyebrows furrow as you try and absorb the information, recognising the same study book you’ve been working on all week, the one for Professor Jeong’s class that you’d been struggling with. The pages covered almost entirely in highlighter with notes and doodles littering the margins. Cute.

You just seem so harmless. No matter how hard he tries Jongin just can’t seem to figure you out. Perhaps MX were blackmailing you? Maybe they had something that forced you to be their spy? It was the only explanation he could think of, because it just didn’t seem plausible that the girl in front of him, furiously editing her notes for the hundredth time that hour, the one with drops of mayonnaise left over on the corner of her lips, could be willingly working with the notorious MX. But you were involved somehow, of that he was sure.

---

The library is quiet, the sound of rustling papers and hushed whispers being the only source of noise. Luckily, it was busier than usual due to the wave of group projects being assigned, it made it easy for Jongin to blend in.

He watches you curiously from behind one of the bookshelves, trying to understand why you haven’t slapped the asshole beside you yet. He’d been cutting you off and putting you down every chance he could.

“I just think if we..”

“Seriously Y/N don’t strain yourself, I think we’ve got it.”

Asshole.

Even Jongin wanted to punch this guy. Being the only girl in the group, the others found it easy to dismiss everything you offered.

“Why doesn’t she say anything?” Jongin wondered, once again you were letting people walk all over you.

It’s not like you particularly enjoyed being treated that way, in fact you were daydreaming about slamming said assholes’ face into the wall at that very moment, but you couldn’t do that. This project defines your grade for the semester and you couldn’t afford that kind of taint on your record. So you bite your tongue. Act none the wiser and count the seconds before you could go home and be done with them all.

Across the library you spot Minho, the cute senior who’d been working as the student librarian for the last month or so. He’s scanning out returns at the desk, eyes glancing up occasionally, you presume to keep an eye on things . God he’s cute. When he spots you staring and then takes a look at the rather heated debate going on between your group, he decides to save you from the disarray, waving you over.

“My hero,” you tease, almost running to where Minho is.

“It was getting too painful to watch! What’s he ranting about this time?” He teases playfully, knowing all too well the constant tension in your study group.

“Ugh I don’t even know, it’s so much easier just to tune him out,”

Jongin’s teeth clench watching the exchange between you and the librarian. The childish giggling, the ‘accidental’ touches, the lingering stares. Disgusting.

“Who even is this guy?” If he didn’t know any better Jongin would think this was jealousy, but he did know better, so all of these unfamiliar feelings had to be from just how pitiful the sight was. This guy was clearly flirting with you, the blush on his cheeks and sweaty palms said as much, but from everything Jongin had learnt, you weren’t going to reciprocate. Tragic.

“Are you kidding me? Why is she twirling her hair like that!? He’s not even her type! He’s... he…” his mumbled ranting cut off by the sound of you laughing across the room. “Well if that is her type then no wonder she’s corrupt.”

He watches the pair of you for a little longer before the need to throw up eventually overtakes his need to stay, deciding he could catch you up later and spare himself the torture of sitting through whatever this was.

---

The open sign light bounces off wet concrete, illuminating your face with such a subtle glow of pink that Jongin could barely make out the streaks of tears running down your cheeks. He almost missed you sitting crouched over on the pavement, the smell of smoke being what made him stop. Why is she crying? He thought to himself, seeing you curled up in a ball, cigarette dangling from your fingertips haphazardly concerned him. Jongin didn’t have to wonder for too long though, the closer he got to you the clearer he could hear your muffled cries.

“Stupid fucking Geord,” you cuss, taking another long drag to calm your anxieties, “takes all my ideas, monopolises the entire presentation and then my contribution isn’t enough!?”

Jongin had come to know the infamous Geord all too well this last week, the pompous ass that had belittled you in the library, the snotty rich kid with mommy issues that just loved being right. Honestly the fact he hadn’t killed him yet was an accomplishment in itself; but still, seeing you clearly so upset gave Jongin a weird feeling.

You were either getting much better with your performance skills, or he was actually getting mad for you…

With each sniffle, each tear drop, Jongin felt his resolve breaking away and being replaced with a type of anger he’d never felt before. Why did he care that you were crying? Why was it affecting him so much? He didn’t know, but it took all his strength not to go find Geord and make him regret whatever he’d done.

As quickly as you put out the cigarette that was now burning short, you’re reaching for the box to light another. You only really smoked when you were feeling particularly stressed, Jongin hated it. Ironically it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen; painting the walls with someone’s brain was nothing compared to the strong stench of nicotine that passed your lips.

For a second Jongin lets his mind entertain the thought of approaching you, but the professional side of him reminds him who you were. This could be a trick...She’s not an idiot. Then he considers calling you out. Drawing his gun and putting an end to MX’s game once and for all, besides, he’d been observing you for a week now and he couldn’t afford for his attention to be diverted any more, he still had the good old Professor to end.

Before he gets the chance to do either however, you stand up. Taking one last drag before stomping out the flame, your hands carelessly wipe at your face in a feeble attempt at clearing the remnants of your breakdown.

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go home,” you whisper, more than familiar with putting yourself back together and wanting nothing more than a hot bath and warm bed.

---

When you first noticed that the new guy on campus was following you, you tried not to think too much of it. In all honesty, you were far too busy trying to keep on top of everything to pay much attention as to why you were being followed. Knowing the people in Exodus, you figured it was just his creepy way of flirting, or at the very worst he was planning on robbing you, not that you had much to take anyway. But as the days went by and the presence of your stalker persisted, you were growing frustrated. It’d been a stressful week and the last thing you needed was some guy watching your every move.

After getting the results back from Professor Jeong for your group presentation, you weren’t exactly in a ‘good mood’ and the looming shadow of the man trying to be inconspicuous as he followed you home, was the last straw.

"How much longer are you planning on following me?” You shout over your shoulder, not having the energy to even face him. When you get no response, you reluctantly decide to turn around to stare him down.

His chocolate coloured hair is pushed back exposing his forehead, eyes golden but harbouring so much animosity that they could have turned black, the jacket adorning his shoulders almost blending him into the dark street behind. He was handsome, strikingly so.

“Look dude it’s been a long day, can’t you just lay off the stalking for one night?”

Jongin stiffens at your words. So you did know he was there? And chose now, while you were both alone in a dark street, to confront him? God she’s stupid.

“Sorry Darling, can’t do that,” he insisted, watching how your shoulders slumped and fingers twitched at the side of your coat.

“Of course,” sighing deeply, too tired to argue, you decide to continue on towards your apartment, stalker be damned.

“Aren’t MX getting bored of this game yet?” Jognin calls. He figures if you already knew he was following you, then now would be the perfect time to put an end to it. You were alone after all.

When he sees you freeze at the sound of MX, he takes a tentative step closer, you’re still turned away from him, just a few steps ahead. “I mean, were you really the best they could do? We expected more.” The smirk on his face when you turn to him, wide eyed and lost for words, only grows at your reaction. Gotcha.

“What are you talki..”

“Come on now Darling, we both know what’s going on here.”

“I promise you we do not.” You’ve heard whispers of MX around town, while you didn’t know much, you did know that if this guy thought you were somehow apart of it, then this was a dangerous misunderstanding.

“You have a choice.” Jongin takes another step closer, “You can leave, now, and make sure MX stay out of Exodus for good,” Reaching under his jacket, he grabs the gun that’s been burning through the back of his shirt since you called out to him, “Or I can send them a message myself. Choose.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about!” You tried to keep calm, swallowing the lump forming at the back of your throat. When you spotted the gun being pulled from his coat, it was like a pin dropped and the reality of the situation finally began to sink in.

Exodus is a dangerous place. Exodus is full of dangerous people. You were standing alone with a strange man that you’d just yelled at, that had been following you for god knows how long, a gun pointed at your face and not a soul in sight that would help you.

He doesn’t flinch when you jump back, his smirk doesn’t falter when you start begging for him to listen. In Jongin’s mind, the fact you’d acknowledged his presence at all was enough to prove you were involved.

“Please, please, just listen to me, t-there’s been a mistake, I d-don’t kno…”

“Oh my god shut up!” He yelled over your desperate cries, “It’s over! Done!”

“I don’t know who you think I am, b-but my name is Y/N I grew up a few towns over with my parents, I-I study Conservation Biology at the university because when I was little I saw a film about sea turtles and now I love them.. I...” you read somewhere that telling a killer personal information about yourself would make them less likely to kill you; so, with your hands held up in surrender, you start begging, pleading, letting slip every boring and mediocre fact about yourself in hopes that the handsome stranger will let you live.

Jongin was taken aback to say the least. Never had a target begged for their life quite like this before, but the more you rambled on and the more tears that fell down your cheeks, he couldn’t help it. He believed you.

This is a mistake... Did I mess up here? Fuck! His mind raced to find a way out of this, but his composure was breaking down with each second you plead your case. How could he have gotten things so wrong? Looking at you now; scared and shaking, there was no way you could be with MX. Jongin’s mind quickly looks back on all the time he’d been watching you, at school, at the library, with friends, home alone... Is it possible he let feelings cloud his judgment? No… Jongin didn’t have feelings.

Bang.

In a split second the air was slashed with bullets, plastering the wall behind you with open wounds. Your body drops to the floor, hands covering your ears like a scared child at a fireworks display, your screams piercing through the air.

Jongin doesn’t even think about it before he’s at your side. He fires back some warning shots, just enough to cover the pair of you so he could pull you out of there, but you were frozen in place.

“C’mon we need to get out of here! I can’t get a clear shot!”

Jongin hoisted your trembling body into his arms, waiting for a gap in the bullet wave before rushing out of the street. Weaving between the crumbling buildings, waiting in the shadows for a free moment to sprint out of there to a nearby underpass. It was sheltered and open, meaning Jongin could keep a solid eye on the surroundings while still keeping you safe while he let himself freak out a little.

As soon as he puts you on the ground you melt into the concrete, hugging your knees to your chest and crying into them silently. It’s all too much. How did this happen? Yesterday you were failing Bio and trying to avoid the creeper puppy boy that’d been following you. Now…. you were pretty sure you were going to die tonight.

“Fuck...fuck..fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Jongin paces back and forth, using the barrel of his gun to scratch away the headache slowly spreading across his temples. How could he have messed up this badly? He’s the best… at least... he was the best.

With every footstep he takes you flinch a little, hyper aware of the gun swinging from his hand, fingertip dancing along the trigger. You still don’t know who he is or why you’re there but you’ve seen enough to know to keep quiet. So you stay sitting on the ground, letting the tears melt into the fabric of your jeans, watching the state of panic escalate in the man in front of you while your own turned into something akin to resentment.

After almost half an hour of silently waiting for some sort of direction, you’ve had enough. Eventually Jongin had stopped pacing, choosing to lean up against the wall with head in hands, instead. In your mind, you have nothing to do with this. There is nothing connecting you to whatever chaos was happening here. You had no reason to wait around to get shot.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” He shouts, annoyance bubbling beneath his skin.

“Home.”

“You can’t!” Pushing himself off the wall, Jongin reaches for your arm in an attempt to keep you still. You try to shake him off but his grip is too strong.

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS!” You’re screaming at him now. Tears no longer from fear, but anger. You feel trapped in whatever this was and it wasn’t fair, you just want to go home.

“Yeah well tough shit Darling, because unfortunately you’re my responsibility now and it’s my job to make sure you don’t get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself! I’ve been doing it long enough!” He rolls his eyes at your response, growing tired of trying to be the good guy for once. “Let me go! I’ll be just fine! Like always!”

Finally loosening the grip on your arm, Jongin let’s you storm off. Waiting, only out of spite, for you to be out of ear shot before cussing out loud at himself.

---

Somehow you managed to drag yourself to class. The events of last night still burning fresh at the back of your mind, but you were desperate enough for a distraction that even Professor Jeong’s morning class was worth that extra effort.

Barely able to keep your eyes open with the little sleep you were actually able to get, it takes you a moment to recognise the familiar body that plants themselves in the desk next to yours.

Jongin doesn’t look at you. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s nerves, but he keeps his eyes trained on the professor’s desk up front, waiting for his cover to be inevitably blown all for the sake of keeping you safe.

“Good morning class!” The professor’s abrupt entrance pulls your shocked and frustrated gaze from burning holes in the side of Jongin’s neck. His tan skin glowing under the plain white tee he’s wearing, hair falling into his eyes softly, contradicting the hard image he’d worn the night before. Does he have his gun with him? You wonder, letting your eyes wander to the waistband of his jeans, remembering how he’d pulled the weapon from them the night before. Stop! You hope he doesn’t realise you’ve been blankly staring at his crotch, mind racing with questions, you don’t even know his name.

“Today we’re picking up the remaining presentati…” When the admirable Professor meets eyes with Jongin, smirking from his seat beside you knowingly, he loses all train of thought.

It’s a feeling Jongin had missed. When a mark knows they’re done for, that he’s coming for them. When their eyes double in size. When fear pales their skin. When they lose all hope of fucking over EXO and getting away with it.

“T-today..um…” You can see the Professor eyeing your seat partner nervously, stuttering over his words. You’d never seen Jeong like this before, he looked terrified, and after last night it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Jongin shifts in his seat, enjoying the effect his presence has on the esteemed scholar. While Jeong tries to regain some semblance of decorum, Jongin wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and squeezes tightly, keeping eye contact with the professor, claiming you.

“What are you doing?” keeping your voice low as to not draw anymore attention to you both, you try to push Jongin’s arm away from you, only for him to put it right back.

“My job. Now be quiet.” He hisses, hiding the harshness of his voice behind a sickly sweet smile.

Professor Jeong spends the entire lecture avoiding your side of the room, refusing to make eye contact, completely ignoring you. You try not to take it personally of course, it’s definitely not because of something you did, that you know for sure; but for once you actually know the answers to some of these questions and want to participate.

“I told you, I can take care of myself!” you grumbled, again trying to physically get Jongin away from you, but he just smirks. Like he was enjoying it. Like this was all just some big game and not the life threatening situation he’d made it out to be the night before.

And you would probably believe that were true, if it wasn’t for his nails digging so sharply into your shoulder.

By the time class finishes you want to run a million miles away. The pressure of Jongin’s arm around your neck you’re sure will leave you aching for days; but as long as he’s far away from you, you can deal with it. You all but sprint out of the lecture hall, forgetting all about your next class and heading straight home; taking a back street you hope he hadn’t seen you use before.

“What the hell is this?” You mumble to yourself, pushing down the fear as far as you can in hopes the empty space will leave room for answers. You’re so caught up in your head, trying to figure out what you did to deserve this, you don’t even realise that Jongin’s been on your tail the whole time, watching you freak out and creep around like the amateur he now knows you are. It’s not until he steps into your building’s elevator with you that you realize he’s there.

“Jesus! Fuck, can’t you leave me alone!” He was exhausting; flattering when you thought it was a puppy crush, less so now you know he wanted to kill you.

“I can’t,” Jongin leans against the side of the elevator, growing tired of the chase.

“Why?! You’re the only one stalking me here!”

“Oh Darling, you have no idea.”

“Then explain! Because I’m tired of this! I have work to do, classes to study for, and I can’t when you’re scaring my teachers and dragging me through shoot outs!!”

Jongin understands why you’re annoyed. He gets it, he messed up and now you’re in danger. But to admit that outloud… to admit that to you… he’d rather not.

He doesn’t give you an answer, finding his reflection in the steel doors far more interesting, chewing the inside of his cheek and fixing his jacket over and over.

When you finally reach your floor, it becomes a race of wills to get to your apartment. Jongin trying to force his way in; you trying to lock him out. You sprint for the door, key in hand; almost managing to slam it shut in his face before Jongin’s hand pushes it back open, forcing himself through the small gap and locking you both inside.

In a second he’s slamming your back against the door with his hand covering your mouth, keeping you in place with the weight of his body, trying to work up the nerve to finally tell you the truth.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to listen to me just for one fucking second… My name is Jongin, okay?” he asks, face dangerously close to your own. You manage a weak nod under his hold, terrified but needing answers.

“I made a mistake. I...I thought you were working with MX,”

Your eyes widen at the second mentioning of the infamous gang, more confused than ever as to why he thought you would ever be involved with them. He didn’t even know you.

“There’s rumours they’re coming for EXO territory..”

He’s with EXO. The realisation floods through your body like a lightning strike, frying your nerves, limbs locked in place while the rest of your body falls limp into his arms. EXO. The kings of this city. The reason shops close early and children aren’t allowed out after 9. The doctors responsible for prescribing the death, the destruction, of a city once so healthy and vibrant. Monsters, as far as you’re concerned.

“They must have seen me tailing you and after last night, I think you’re a target.” Jongin watches as your eyes well up with tears, red and swollen as you choke back the sobs you so obviously want to release. It doesn’t affect him… it doesn’t make him angry… he doesn’t want to wrap you in a hug and take it all back… right?

“So as much as you don’t like it, I’m here. I messed up so I need to fix it, because this isn’t a game and this isn’t a joke. If they think you’re with us they will kill you. Milk carton kids, where are they now, 27 club dead.”

You wish he was a better actor. That he could hide the shame, guilt, pain he feels for putting you in this position better. That the cold exterior he wears so well didn’t have quite as many cracks, because then maybe you could tell yourself that everything was going to be okay. But if Jongin looks scared, then you’re absolutely terrified.

Blinded by the fear, your body reacts before your mind can catch up. Fists pounding into his chest weakly as the sound of your sobs rip into his heart. You’re in hysterics, screaming at him for an answer to questions still lodged at the back of your throat. Jongin doesn’t break down with you, as much as his body tries. Instead he just grabs your wrists, stopping their assault and pinning them into his embrace. His hold the only thing keeping you standing as you finally let the last walls crumble, letting out every tear, every scream, every desperate cry for it all to be some twisted dream.

Jongin doesn’t know how you both ended up on the floor, your head buried between your knees as his hand finds itself brushing through your hair. Somehow you manage to calm yourself down, letting the sobs turn to whimpers and cries to sniffles. Finally numb after the dust settles in your mind, you force yourself to look back up at Jongin. He looks how you feel, just doing a better job at hiding it; you don’t miss the concern that washes over his face and maybe that’s why you decide to let him stay. If he was so determined to fix what he’d done, you weren’t going to stop him. At least not tonight.

“I need to sleep,” you say weakly, standing on shaky legs but brushing off Jongin’s worried hands when he tries to help, “you can stay on the couch.”

---

Tiptoeing across the living room, shoelaces dangling from your teeth while your hands clutch onto your books; you’re desperately trying not to wake a sleeping Jongin. His sprawled out body half falling from the couch, you admit he looks a lot cuter when he’s sleeping.

Before you can stop it, one of your shoes drops from between your teeth, making Jongin jump up at the sound.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled, rubbing the fatigue from his face, stretching back into his familiar hard persona.

“Uhh, going for breakfast?”

“Did you not hear me last night!” It didn’t sound like a question. His voice raising ever so slightly in frustration as he stands to tower over you. Failing miserably at being as intimidating as usual, with his hair a mess and cheeks puffy.

“I heard you,” you say, pushing your feet into the fallen shoes before giving him a chance to stop you, “I’m just not going to hide away like a victim when this is your mess.” He stiffens at your words, ignoring the cut they etch into his heart, instead focusing on your relentless stubbornness in such a risky situation.

“If they catch you out alone they won’t miss another shot!” Jongin clenches his jaw when you roll your eyes at his remark, unsure of what he can do to change your mind.

“Look if you’re so worried, you’re more than welcome to join me,” you offer, determination radiating off of your face in such a way that Jongin finds himself unable to argue.

---

For the next few days Jongin stays by your side, sleeping on your couch, going to breakfasts, your classes, all to make sure you were safe.

He walks the familiar routes around town with you, not from a few paces back this time, but shoulder to shoulder. Sitting beside you in Professor Jeong’s early morning classes, Jongin was having far too much fun watching the colour drain from his face each time he showed up to one of your lectures to kill him just yet.

Everything became a threat to your safety. As far as Jongin was concerned, your life was in danger and MX could strike at any moment…. Even if it had been quiet since the shooting… it was better to be safe. That’s what Jongin told himself everytime he stayed a little longer.

“Hey Y/N!” Minho waved at you from across the library, he was reshelving returns when he spotted you studying at your usual table.

Jongin felt his ears burn red at the sight. Jaw clenching when he sees the boy walk over. Eyes narrow in judgment when you return his warm smile.

“Hey Minho, how are you?” It’d been a few days since you’d last had the chance to talk with Minho, him still as handsome as ever, but your heart not jumping quite so high at the interaction.

“I’m good, are you? I’ve missed seeing you around lately..” Minho let’s his words fade noticing the glare he was getting from the man sat beside you. “Oh I’m sorry, I’m Minho, Y/N’s friend!”

Jongin glances at Minho’s outstretched hand between them, choosing to throw his own over your shoulder rather than shake it.

“I’m Kai, Y/N’s boyfriend.” He smirks at the shocked expression that Minho wears, ignoring your startled one in favour of silently challenging the boy to leave.

“Oh...oh uh… Nice to meet you, I’ll see you guys around..”

Jongin keeps you close till he’s sure Minho has gone, only loosening his grip when he feels you nudge him gently.

“What the fuck was that, Kai?” You’re more amused than angry, but you’d never let him know that, enjoying seeing the varied emotions you can bring out of him now, when he was supposed to be a stone cold killer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” feigning innocence, Jongin tries to go back to reading the book he’d randomly grabbed from the pile in front of you both.

You scoff at his reaction, or lack thereof, staring at him quizzically till he finally gave in.

“That guy is sketchy! I’m here to protect you right? So I’m protecting you. Good?”

“Minho is not sketchy,” you giggle and Jongin can’t help but smile at the sound, “and who is Kai?”

“It’s what my friends call me!”

---

“Hey!” Jongin had appeared out of nowhere, pulling the cigarette from between your lips and stomping it out. With Geord goading you relentlessly for the last hour of class, you were desperate for a smoke. You would argue that those little white sticks of bliss were the only thing keeping you from ripping his throat out.

“It’s disgusting,” he says, leaning down to your height so he could look you in the eye, “why do you do this?”

With a deep sigh, you stuff the near empty packet of unlit cigarettes back into your coat pocket, storming away in frustration, knowing he’d follow you.

“Wait, I’m serious!”

“I like them!” you shout back, thankful the streets were empty so you could argue in peace.

“They’re bad for you you know!” he teases, laughing when you throw your middle finger up behind you.

“My cigarettes are better for me than you are!” Teasing back, you finally turn to face him, a cheeky smile on your face.

---

“We got him.”

While making dinner for the pair of you, Jongin’s phone buzzes on the counter, a string of messages coming in from someone called Minseok. You tried not to be nosey, sitting on the counter beside him while he cooked, but he didn’t even glance at it.

“Wasn’t MX. Some small town nobody trying to prove himself.”

“Jongin”

“Call me when you get this”

“Boss wants you back asap”

The thought of Jongin leaving had never even crossed your mind till then. It hadn’t been that long at all, but it felt like an eternity since he’d first come into your life. Maybe it was selfish to want him to stay.

Jongin had recently started to open up to you more about his work with EXO. He was their protector, he kept them safe. You didn’t see him as this dangerous monster anymore, he was just Jongin, Kai, the one who took care of things. Just like he’d been taking care of you all this time.

You knew deep down that when he left you’d probably never see him again; if what EXO suspects is true and MX really were making their way into Exodus, then there was a storm coming and Jongin would be right in the middle of it. He wouldn’t risk getting you anymore tangled in EXO’s mess.

“Here, try this,” Jongin held a spoon up to your mouth expectantly; pretending he didn’t see Minseok’s messages, pretending you didn’t see them either, holding on to this reality for just a little longer.

---

“We need you back Jongin,”

After ignoring Minseok’s messages a few days ago, Jongin couldn’t ignore another call from the boss.

“Jun I have to pr..”

“No you don’t! We took care of the shooter, the girl will be fine! EXO needs you, I need you!”

He doesn’t want to leave. Jongin doesn’t know what it is that makes him want to stay near you, keep you safe, go to breakfasts at Lou’s - but the thought of leaving it all behind makes his heart twist and turn in unimaginable ways.

His whole life had been about EXO. They’re his friends, his family, and he would never abandon them. But somehow he’s made a new home with you, in his heart at least. You feel like home. Sitting on your living room floor watching Blue Planet feels like home. Falling asleep on your shoulder in the middle of your lectures feels like home. EXO have been his entire identity for so long, but now there’s this other life, another door, and Jongin was finding hard to resist stepping through.

“Be back today. We have work to do.”

After Junmyeon’s orders, the frustration coursed through Jongin’s body with such force he hadn’t even realised he’d thrown the phone till you were beside him, asking what was wrong.

“I...I have to leave.” He couldn’t look you in the eye. He didn’t want to see the betrayal, the disappointment, the pain reflected in them. “It’s my fault you’re in danger and now I have to leave you…”

He doesn’t know that you know.

“I..I’ll be okay Nini.. I can look after myself remember?” Your voice is weak but you do your best to convince him; as much as you want him to stay you know that’s not an option, and you know he knows it too because he can barely look at you right now.

“Y/N… I don’t want to leave..”

It broke your heart but there was no other choice. You had to let him go. The boy you’d tried so hard to avoid just a few weeks ago, you now didn’t want to see go.

“I know..” You cup the side of his face, forcing him to look at you as you spoke, “but they need you Nini...” It was hard to keep how you were really feeling hidden, especially when he looked like he was about to break, “You’re the best Nini, they deserve the best.”

He knew you were right. He needed to be there for EXO, his family. Things in Exodus were about to get a lot messier and the fallout would be astronomical, if he wasn’t there to do his part there’s no telling what could happen, then you really would be in danger.

Leaning into your touch, Jongin grips onto your hips like it was the first time not the last, pulling you flush against his body. Memorizing the shape of your hips, touch of your skin, smell of your shampoo. Locking you inside his heart. Melding the memory of you into his soul so that this wouldn’t be the last time. He would forever be with you and you would always be there for him, long after he’s gone.

Looking at you would be too much, he might not be able to force himself away if he saw your eyes. Saying goodbye felt too final, like the end of something that never really was. Instead Jongin buried your head into his shaking chest, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, pretending he can’t feel your tears soaking through his shirt, before turning away and walking out of your life forever.

#in exodus #the hitman #in exodus the hitman #exo #exo au #exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo fic #exo reation #exo scenario #kim jongin #jongin scenarios #jongin reaction #jongin imagine #jongin fic #jongin au #exo kai #exo jongin au #exo kai au

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

Story on Norman catching Sammy in Joey cult ?

It's been twice now that I've written Norman's demise. Y'all really like killing people uh?

Summary: Sammy was weird in many ways, but this? This was just crazy.

---

Back when Norman was still a little tot, his great nanna used to tell him and his brothers and sisters about their great poppop. How he'd been raised in some sort of cult that indoctrinated its disciples from birth. She related to them how, even though he'd managed to escape them, their constant drilling of ideals had never truly left him. Which was why nanna had gotten rid of him. Love him as she did, she knew he was a crazy dangerous man. Little five year old Norman had been very curious about those tales his mama begged nanna not to tell them. He especially found it curious when she described his eyes. Having a condition like the one he had, had made him a prime target for neighbourhood bullies that called him "Crazy-Eye". So hearing about someone who had actual insanity behind what most considered to be the windows to the soul... It had given him a sort of relief, because at least there was a spark of life behind his own unsynchronized peepers. "N'aw child, don't yous go be tellin' ya mama 'bout what ol' nanna be tellin' you 'bout ya poppop, ya hear?" "Ok nanna. Won't tell a soul." "Yous is a clever one, boy. An' don't forget ta keep an eye out... Crazy can hide in plain sight. Sure did for poppop." Insanity could hide in plain sight. That was perhaps the most valuable lesson to take from his nanna's tales. What she could never get across was how hard it was to see someone you cared for slowly be afflicted with it.

Sammy was a weird man. Had been from day one of Norman meeting him, and never quite changed even when he put a reign on his deplorable attitude. He wasn't a bad person per say. Misguided by a parent with that typical southern brand of white superiority complex. A man who thought his skin color made him better than all the other folk, and who taught his boy to think it was just as sacred an idea as the damn gospel he also tried to drill into Sammy's head. But Sammy was admittedly clever, and much more curious than his father had been. He asked questions and he tried to change when he realized his own crappy behaviour didn't please him all that much. But then things started getting unsettling in the studio. Little things popped up, and the world's own agenda got in the way of Joey Drew's plans. Turns out Joey wasn't about to fold for anything or anyone. Those who were drafted were the lucky ones. Those who were socially outcasts or liabilities in the military's eyes, were not so lucky. They stayed, so the wrongness affected them. The wrongness... Norman had felt something was not right for a long while, but now that he had to get acquainted with so many new hires and the such? He'd been preoccupied. So when the ones he knew suddenly started acting unlike themselves he'd been caught by surprise. "I don't understand how Mr. Drew has no trouble with him... He's just so..." He'd found Buddy in the bathroom, trying to clean the obvious ink stains on his clothing. "Why did I think helping him would make him less nasty?" "Sammy tends ta blow up at minor things. If it was as bad as yous say it was, then he was just freaked out from nearly drowning." He got as many paper towels as he could to help the poor kid get rid of as much of the ink as he could. "Doesn't excuse what he says to me... Or the other Jewish employees..." Buddy murmured sadly. "What did he say?" "Not important... Just makes me uneasy. It's like I'm specifically not worth anything just because of my... Mr. Polk?" Buddy blinked once the projectionist dropped everything he was doing to stalk out the door. "Yous ain't the first he's gone and played that card on. Was a long while ago but I can refresh Sammy's memory for the folks he's been barkin' at." "Oh! Uh, you don't have to! It's not going to fix anything." "Trust me, a hard knock on the noggin' works just fine ta sorte Sammy's bullshit." Norman smiled in passing at Dot who paused to watch him and then look at Buddy in concern once he peered out the bathroom door. "You two kids run along now. I'll see yous around." He tried not to laugh when he heard Buddy fretting over potentially getting fired for starting a fight. Kid still had a lot to learn about how Joey Drew Studios ran for all these years. Sometimes tough love was all it needed. But not this time.

His nanna's tales rushed back to him when he'd cornered Sammy in his office. Norman didn't like roughing people up, but he'd promised the music director that if he stepped on any toes for the wrong reasons he'd give him a whooping like the one the blond had been begging for, back when he'd first harassed the projectionist. He had half a mind to start hollering until he'd caught sight of Sammy's eyes. Nanna had described insanity in great detail. The unfeeling and unfocused darkness in poppop's eyes that consumed the man she'd loved and left nothing behind. Sammy's eyes were a soft hazel, the nice flicker of green so full of the essence that made Sammy Lawrence who he was. What Norman saw instead of those pretty peepers were dark pools, a sickly grayish brown with flecks of blackness like tar. Like ink... Norman completely forgot what he was to say. He couldn't bring himself to talk when he saw the same thing that had tormented his nanna's dreams. It just wasn't right.

Joey Drew was up to something, and Sammy was involved somehow. By his own volition, Norman wasn't too sure. The kid was acting mighty strange since Norman had noticed his eyes had inexplicably changed color, and whatever progress for positive change he'd made was completely gone. If anything, Sammy had become an incredibly volatile and aggressive husk. Very few people noticed, which was what was so concerning. "It can't be a coincidence... Joey barely showin' his face 'round the departments and Sammy actin' up like the devil bit him in the ass..." He'd paced as he watched Jack drink what was likely the 5th cup of coffee he'd in the morning. "Whatever it is, Sammy's more enthusiastic about his songs for a change..." He sounded nonchalant about it. "He complained about all the pieces Drew forced him to change... Now he's less, angry about those. Seems to love them actually." "Those little annoying jigs? He said they was garbage!" "And they are. Putting lyrics to those was dang awful but... Well if he's happy, I'm happy..." Jack gave a weak smile before coughing a rather wet sounding cough. He took another sip of his coffee to sooth his throat. "You comin' down with somethin'?" "Must be... This gross cough has been popping up a lot. And my nose is awfully stuffy. Can't smell or taste nothing, which is good considering I gotta hide away in the sewers to work..." Norman huffs. People were getting sick from being forced to do overtime with no rest. Jack getting sick wasn't entirely out of the question. But the stench of something acrid coming from his mug did give him cause for concern. Best check to see if Wally hadn't accidentally stored the coffee beans with the cleaning supplies again. A week later he forgets about it once he instead finds himself making a list of the people he stops seeing around the Studio not long after he noticed something up with Joey and Sammy.

There's Jack, who he hadn't noticed gone at first until he'd gone poking around the sewers and not caught sight of the shorter lyricist. There was Johnny Brokehart, who's organ was completely abandoned in its little corner. No one dared touch it, in case the man returned and found so much as a pipe out of place. There was Julian Whitaker, the tall gangly cellist that often sat with the resident art critic, that Vernon fellow who liked to stare at the cartoon posters like they were masterpieces on display at a museum. Susie Campbell had gone too. Wally insisted she hadn't quit, and was awfully worried about her. Allison and Thomas had also up and split after they'd made a scene at one of them fancy parties Joey used to get investors to dump money into his lap. Shawn Flynn, Grant Cohen, Bertrum Piedmont, Lacie Benton, Emma LaMonte... People were vanishing left and right and there was no say of them being fired. Norman had a theory, and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to do his best to inform the younger hires to run before something inevitably happened to them. He told Buddy and Dot it was dangerous, in as little words he could so not to let Joey catch wind of what he did know. He prayed to whatever god was out there that no bad befell those two kids. And then he'd grabbed his light and went down, where the groaning and moaning came from.

Norman ran. Ran as fast as he could, trying not to look at the things trapped in those tubes. The creatures that were tall, gangly, and vaguely humanoid. Weeping faces pressed to the glass, begging to be let out. The disgusting sludge creatures, barely holding themselves together and clawing at the glass in obvious suffering. The thing that had Sammy's voice and that was rushing after him, axe in hand and Bendy mask covering its face. Screaming at him to accept the "Lord's" blessing. He ran and dodged strikes that nicked his elbows, his legs, grazed his ankle and back... He came to a full stop before what could only be described as a throne. Horrified to find something twisted that looked like a humanoid corpse-like Bendy bound in chains. And then he was knocked onto the floor, air escaping his lungs from the sudden collision. The Sammy thing was on top of him, overjoyed to have caught him. And then all around, Joey Drew's voice filled the room... The thing on the throne shook and hissed. "Excellent... You know what to do Prophet. Baptize this non-believer in the name of your lord." "Anything for you my lord. Anything!" Norman tried to fight him off, knocked that silly mask off his face even. Except there was no face. Not even eyes. Windows to the soul... If he had none, then did Sammy even have a soul anymore? The axe raised, and Norman Polk didn't even have time to scream before it plunged into his chest, destroyed his ribcage, and obliterated his heart.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Norman Polk #Sammy Lawrence

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wewillwriteyou · 4 years

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Crazy Little Thing Called Love || Chapter 11

A few elements from the main plot: A fine line falls between fiction and reality: what starts as a musical slowly becomes a game-changer. Tables will turn and it will get clear as the sun that the only unstoppable power in life … is love.

Summary Chapter 10: Elizabeth and Joe finally have the chance to spend some time alone. Will it be the right time for them to admit their feelings?

Word count: 4.8K+

Warnings: SMUT! (protected sex and graphic descriptions) towards the end of the chapter - Please read it only if you’re 18+; cuteness and FLUFF are all over the place & some language here and there as usual

A/N: Believe us, folks, you are not ready for this chapter! Sit down and enjoy the ride, a pretty wild ride if you ask us 🌶😏💗

Tuesday, 24 December 2019

“Because you are the only one for me.” “How can you be certain? We were all fooled by the spell cast by the love filter…” “I never needed a spell to look into your eyes and see love”

“Do you think he’ll keep his mouth shut?” Joe asked, without averting his eyes from the book he was holding. He was laying on Elizabeth’s bed, his head on the pillow and the book in one hand, while the other flipped the pages.

“Who?” Elizabeth asked, briefly looking in his direction without stopping her pen on the notebook. She was practising drawing buildings in perspective and she had chosen the 9th dormitory as her first try: she knew that building like she knew the insides of her pockets.

“Ben,” Joe answered and Elizabeth stopped drawing to look at him. She was sitting crossed legs beside him, her back leaning on the bed’s headboard.

“Why wouldn’t he?” she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Dunno, - Joe licked the tip of his finger to flip another page – no reason, I guess… Just wondering if we should be more careful…”

Elizabeth hesitated a moment: did he meant he regretted moving in with her? Was that his way of telling her?

“Joe, - she took a deep breath – if you’re having seconds thoughts about this I understand, I-”

Joe shut his book and sat up to look at her, “What? No that’s not what I meant.” He gently threw the book at the end of the bed and turned to cross his legs as well, “I’m just worried something could jeopardise my year… or yours, for that matter… or even the play, I don’t know what I’d do if they expelled me or worse… - he took a pause – if they cancelled the play.”

Elizabeth chuckled while going back to her drawing, “You need to sort out your priorities…”

Joe laughed, “Ron Wesley? Seriously? You’re throwing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone to my face?”

Elizabeth slowly nodded, biting her lip to keep from laughing as well and drew another windowpane to the building.

“It’s your fault, Hermione… – she giggled – Your life spins around that play a bit too much if you ask me…”

Joe opened his mouth and brought a hand to his chest, exaggerating his shock, “Excuse me?!”

Elizabeth couldn’t stop giggling and she knew her lack of concentration was messing up her drawing, “Stop making me laugh! I can’t work like this!”

She uncrossed her legs to get up and go sit at her desk, but a hand trapped her arm and made her fall on her back on the mattress. She squealed and left the grip on the notebook, that fell on the floor with a thud.

The girl giggled and realised she still had the pen in her hand. It took less than a second to Joe to understand what she was going to do and he reacted immediately, but he wasn’t fast enough. Before he could trap both her hands by her sides, Elizabeth had managed to draw a small line on his cheek.

For a fraction of a second, they stared into each other’s eyes.

Joe raised an eyebrow, “Really? How old are you? Five?”

Elizabeth giggled shrugging her shoulders, “It was self-defence”

“Oh really? – Joe grabbed both her wrists with a hand – And how do you defend from… the tickle monster?”

“What! – Elizabeth widened her eyes and tried to wriggle herself free from his grip - Let me go, Joe”

She got out of it before it was too late and she swiftly turned around to trap him against the headboard, the pen in her hand and a wily smirk on her face.

“Don’t mess with me” she theatrically threatened him.

Joe couldn’t stop smiling and giggling like a dork, he was well aware of that. But he didn’t care. Because in that moment, in that room, there were only the two of them. And it felt like a jump in the past when they were in middle school and they were always at each other’s houses.

He didn’t want to interrupt that moment of silliness but he couldn’t resist. He began chuckling to himself, “You know? This will sound weird but… this reminds me of when we were thirteen – he looked at Elizabeth and she had sat back in front of him, deposing her fearful weapon - I’d sleepover at your house and you at mine and we’d play Nintendo till past bedtime… I still remember your mom yelling at us to turn off the light and us laughing and turning it off just to turn it back on once we’d hear her climb under the covers.”

Elizabeth giggled, “Yeah, I remember that too… And my mom does too, for that matter…- Joe chuckled as well – She still asks me about you sometimes.”

Joe was surprised, “Really? Martha asks about me?”

Elizabeth lightly slapped his arm, “Of course she does… she wants you to stop keeping me up playing Nintendo games all night”

Joe chuckled, “So I’m the bad influence on you?”

Elizabeth forcefully nodded, “Sure, she says I should really stop seeing you… - Joe acted shocked and she couldn’t keep a straight face – But don’t worry. I’ll never get rid of you, babe”

And in saying so she theatrically and gently caressed his cheek.

It would have been completely normal for them to act that way, but in that moment, as she caressed his cheek, even if she was play-pretending, she suddenly felt embarrassed and the warmth spreading on her cheeks betrayed her. She blushed evidently, partly because of what she realised she’d sad and partly because of how close they were in that very instant.

From Joe’s point of view, the situation had become awkward as soon as Elizabeth had trapped him against the headboard and he couldn’t help but think about what else could have happened there besides threatening each other with a pen.

When her soft hand had caressed his face and redness had spread on her cheeks, he’d understood she had probably perceived the awkwardness as well.

He cleared his voice, “Well we should tell Martha, that her daughter’s not very good either… she draws on people”, he decided to say instead, trying breaking the tension.

Elizabeth lightly chuckled and without thinking about it twice, she licked her thumb and rubbed the black line she’d drawn on him. It was a reflex, something that had looked innocent in her head. Something she had already done in the past and it had been fine.

But that night, it was everything besides fine.

It was like everything they did they could only make the situation more awkward.

Did we lose our chemistry?, she asked herself. Are we not friends like we used to?

She feared those three weeks of reacquainting with one another had been a waste of time. What if their friendship had been damaged permanently?

Joe gulped, the tension was back to make his spine stiff again and his ability of reasoning weaker.

Elizabeth let out a burst of constraint laughter, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight…”

She shifted on the bed and instead of sitting in front of him, she sat by his side, her back leaning on the headboard and her head abandoned to fall backwards.

Joe glanced at her and cleared his throat again, his voice serious, “It’s okay, Liz.”

He saw her closing her eyes, biting her lip and lightly shaking her head. She probably thought it was imperceptible but he’d seen her.

He took a deep breath. He had to say something. He had a feeling all that was happening for one reason. And he didn’t know whether to be happy, confused or scared that the reason might actually have been what he was hoping for.

“Liz, - he started quietly, slowly turning to look at her as she did the same, the head still resting on the headboard – you remember how we used to play true confessions in high school?”

Elizabeth sluggishly chuckled and nodded.

“Well, - Joe continued – I have a confession to make.”

He paused for a few seconds, knowing he was going down a one-way road, with no chance of turning back.

She frowned, “What, Joey?”

Joey, he thought to himself. If on the outside he looked nervous, the mention of that stupid nickname was causing a storm of emotions inside his head. Joey and Lizzie were how they called each other anytime the other needed to talk about something serious: those nicknames had always made them laugh so they seemed perfect to mention when all the other person needed was a smile.

It worked like it had every time before.

Joe smiled before continuing and Elizabeth smiled at him back.

“Lizzie, - he started again with a half-smile – I know I’ll be talking nonsense from now on, so please stop me if you decide you don’t want to hear it. Because once I say it I won’t be able to get it back…”

The girl furrowed her eyebrows again. Her instinct was telling her she already knew what he was about to say. At least, she thought she knew. She hoped, she knew.

She shifted again and turned her body towards him, leaning on her side on the headboard, a silent gesture to say ‘I’m listening’.

Joe exhaled for the hundredth time in those last five minutes.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now - he began slowly - Well actually I didn’t know I wanted to tell you at first… I thought I was misreading things and I tried to forget about it all, but then Gwilym happened and I didn’t know how to talk to you… you had disappeared from my life and I couldn’t stand –”

Elizabeth’s smile widened. She still didn’t know how to feel about what was happening. She was feeling too many emotions to choose only one.

“Joe-Joe–” she tried interrupting him, but he kept on talking, his sentences speeding up as they followed one another.

“But when I saw you that day at the park and I told you I was fine, I knew you knew I wasn’t and when I found you alone there, I couldn’t help but feel relieved, even it that makes me a terrible friend to Gwilym. I was happy I could try again and-”

“Joe could you just-” she chuckled: it was like trying to have a conversation during a rapping contest.

“And then, – he continued undaunted, his lips curving into a smile because he knew she had caught on where he was leading to - I came here to tell you because I wanted to know what you wanted to say to me that same day at the park but I saw-”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, the biggest smile lighting her face.

And without thinking of it twice, she shut him up properly.

She swiftly turned and, placing a hand on his cheek, she guided her lips onto his.

Joe hadn’t registered immediately what was happening and the kiss remained barely a long-lasting smack for a couple of seconds.

When he realised words weren’t strictly necessary to let her know what he wanted to say, he smiled against her lips and, bringing a hand behind her neck, he inclined his head to deepen the kiss.

Elizabeth felt like someone had lighted a hot air balloon inside her chest. She couldn’t stop smiling between one kiss and the other and Joe curving his lips in a smile as well could only make her smile more.

They pulled away at the same time, both breathless and with a spark in their eyes. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few instants, before bursting out laughing in unison.

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, trying recomposing herself. Joe placed a hand on his belly to stop himself from laughing more.

“Why are we laughing?” he asked, still chuckling.

Elizabeth brought a hand to her forehead and shook her head with a small giggle, “I really have no idea…”

They both sat back, their gazes fixed on Elizabeth’s desk at the end of her bed.

“So…” Joe started again.

“So,” Elizabeth echoed him, turning her head to look at him, a small shy smile on her face.

“So, you liked my confession?…” Joe asked and Elizabeth pushed her shoulder against his chuckling.

She looked at her hands fidgeting in her lap, “I don’t know why I did that”

The smile slowly vanished from her face as she thought about it. She had been impulsive. Again. Just like she had done with Gwilym. And look where it has brought you…, she thought to herself.

She hated jumping back and forth from happy to worried all the time. Doing something and then overthinking about it. She was sick of it. Why couldn’t she be more decisive? Why did she have to always question everything her own mind thought?

Joe slowly stopped chuckling and stared at the weaved blanket at the end of the bed, confused. What did that mean? Why had she kissed him if she was already regretting it? Had it not meant the same to her as it had to him?

“Did you… - he tried to find the right words – …want that?”

Elizabeth forced herself to think about the answer. YES. More than anything I’ve ever wanted, her heart shouted. And please tell me you wanted it as much as I did.

“Yes, - she said instead calmly – but I wish it hadn’t happened… I think I might have made things weird”

“Oh, - Joe replied, more disappointment in his voice than he’d wanted to let transpire – then… why did you do that?”

Elizabeth knew he wouldn’t have stopped asking questions until she’d told him the truth and sometimes she hated how well she knew him.

She huffed, “I don’t know, Joe…”. She got up from the mattress and picked up the notebook.

Yeah, I do, she thought to herself.

“I think you do,” he replied, a little bit of anger mixing to the set of emotions he was feeling in that moment.

“No, I don’t”, she walked to her desk to put down notebook and pen.

Stop lying!

“Yes you do, Liz, stop lying!” Joe got up as well to follow her.

“Stop reading my mind!” she shouted back, not realising that was supposed to be just a thought.

Joe raised an eyebrow. Anger and confusion were having the better of him, “Why can’t you be honest? I exposed myself over there! – he pointed at the bed where they’d been sitting – Why can’t you do the same?”

“I’m trying to protect you!” she shouted back staring at him, her eyes slightly watered by the emotions she was trying to push down.

When he frowned again, she averted her eyes and looked outside the window, where darkness had already taken over the sky.

“I don’t want it to happen again, - she confessed under her voice – not with you”

Joe’s expression softened, “Can you please articulate your thoughts?”

Elizabeth forced her hands down her sides so that she could stop fidgeting.

“I don’t want what happened with Gwilym to happen with you as well” she repeated.

She huffed and brushed her hair away from her forehead, “Nothing good comes from when I get impulsive. I only get myself into trouble and end up hurting myself and others - she paused for a second – I already lost a friend. I don’t want to lose you…”

Joe furrowed his eyebrows shaking his head, “Who says you’re going to lose me? – he took a step closer and fixed a loose strand of red hair behind her ear – Just because it didn’t work with Gwilym doesn’t mean it won’t for us…”

Us. At the bare thought, she could feel butterflies flying in every direction inside her stomach. She had never felt that way. With anyone in her whole life. Maybe it’s a sign, her hopeful heart commented.

“How can you already talk about ‘us’? - she half-smiled – And even if what you say is true, do you really want to risk everything? Knowing it might not work out and it might end like it has for me and Gwilym? Do you want to sacrifice everything we’ve built for an impetuous decision on a casual Christmas night?”

Joe registered everything she had listed and he really wished he could think everything through. Twice. But he had already made up his mind at the first half-smile she had given him.

“Liz, - his lips curved into a smile, unable to contain the excitement of the anticipation – you are worth the risk.”

He watched the redness spreading on her cheeks and the smile gleaming on her face but he didn’t give her the chance to reply. Before she knew, his lips were on hers and his hands were already holding her.

Joe had longed for that moment for such a long time he couldn’t believe it was happening. He thought at any time his alarm would have rung and he would have woken up like he had done several times in those last few months.

And somehow even if he had imagined it, kissing Elizabeth was nothing like he’d thought. He figured there would have been hesitation and shyness from both sides, but it couldn’t be further from reality.

There was an unspeakable hunger for the other person from both sides. They looked for each other in every kiss, every touch, every breath, and faster than they could realise, they let passion drive their bodies.

Without breaking the kiss, Joe stepped forward to the desk, making her walk backwards and hit the wooden surface with her lower back.

She effortlessly jumped on it and opened her legs to let Joe stand closer to her. He smiled on her lips when she did that and adrenaline shot up to her brain. She wrapped an arm behind his back and pulled him closer, while his hand found the way behind her neck beneath her loose hair.

Joe felt like soaring a hundred feet above the ground. The scent coming from her hair was inebriating and he felt like he was losing the last brims of lucidity he had left. He felt incredibly happy and the excitement of finally being with her was almost overwhelming.

He was well aware of her doubts and he felt like he could not blame her after everything he had watched her go through. But somehow his gut was telling him that anything could have happened to them and they still would have made past it. Together.

Elizabeth could feel the excitement running through her veins, a sensation she’d never experienced before. Not at that extent at least. It was like someone had poured fire inside her veins and in the few fractions of a second she was lucid, she thought that with Gwilym it had been nothing like this.

Her ability to think straight was being obfuscated by Joe’s hands holding her tight and roaming around her back, but she was well aware of what she was feeling. And she knew, deep inside her self, that Joe could have been endgame.

She suddenly pulled away to stare into his eyes, looking for something even she wasn’t quite sure of. Something to tell her this time her instinct may have been the right path to follow.

Joe simply smiled, asking with his breath short, “Is everything okay?”

She cupped his chin with her hands and lightly brushed her thumbs on his cheeks, returning him the smile, “I’m okay”.

Joe’s smile grew brighter as he leaned in to kiss her gently. He slid his hands down to her lower back and moved her legs to wrap around his waist, picking her up from the desk.

Elizabeth broke the kiss giggling, “What the hell are you doing?”

He did not seem to be handling it well and chuckled, trying to hide the effort he was actually putting into it.

Elizabeth could not help but laugh the whole way to the bed – which took three steps – and her laughs grew louder when he dropped her on the mattress and collapsed beside her.

Joe tried to push down his laughs as well not to interrupt the rather passionate moment, but her laughter was too damn contagious.

“I thought it’d be hot and romantic…” he said between chuckles, a tingle of disappointment in his tone.

Elizabeth got up on her elbows, laughter slowly fading away, “I’m sorry, Joe – she extended her arm to caress his cheek and guide him closer – It was really romantic”

Joe chuckled and shook his head, “You’re a terrible liar,” he said, closing once again the distance between their lips.

He rolled on top of her, holding himself up on the elbows. Her hands climbed up his back, beneath the sweater and t-shirt and it felt freezing cold against his hot skin. That contrast only helped his excitement to grow and a hushed groan disappeared into the kiss.

Elizabeth ran her hands up to help him get his head out of the sweater and for a brief moment they shared a look that meant ‘is this really happening?’.

He came down to kiss her again, hands flying at the brim of her sweater, taking it off with a few rapid motions. His lips left hers only to trace a trail down her neck and above her collarbone. Elizabeth exhaled deeply, her hands roaming on his back and through his hair to keep him close to her body.

The moment he nibbled at the skin underneath her ear, her brain was no longer in control of her actions. A hand rushed to the edge of his shirt and pulled it up so that she could throw it on the floor.

Pulling away for an instant, he got her out of her t-shirt as well. His brain was acute enough to realise it was not the first time he had seen her bra, but it sure was the first time he had seen it and felt the urge to rip it off.

Without a warning, Elizabeth got up and undressed from her pants, while Joe followed with a burning gaze. From a drawer in her desk, she pulled out a silver square and with all the nonchalance she could find, she walked back to the bed, pulled back the covers and gestured him to join her.

Joe was still startled and had trouble thinking and acting straight. The direction they were heading towards was pretty final and irreversible and he couldn’t help feeling a little nervous.

He got out of his pants as well, suddenly feeling… exposed in front of her. He kneeled back on the bed and looked for comfort into her eyes. He could see she was thinking the same. As she rested a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him closer to crash her lips onto his, he kept thinking how crazy it was doing all that with her.

They shifted so she could lay down on her back again and without breaking the kiss, Elizabeth reached out and turned off the switch of her abatjour, leaving the room in almost complete darkness if it wasn’t for the street lamp outside the window and the decrescent moon watching over them.

He lowered himself and broke the kiss to trace a trail of kisses down her neck to the middle of her breasts. She hushed a moan and ran her hands in his hair, as his lips proceeded down her belly until the elastic of her panties.

“Joe,” she uttered, lifting her hips to help him pull down her knickers.

He smirked on her skin, planting a kiss right where the elastic had been and climbed back up to kiss her lips again. Her hands grazed his skin till the elastic band of his briefs and very slowly pulled them down.

Joe thought he could have cum just because of how slow she was rolling them down: it was torture. He shifted so that he could climb out of them with a sigh of relief.

As he came up to hover her again, he slid a hand underneath her back and unhooked her bra. She got out of it and threw it on the floor with the rest of their clothes, exposing the last piece of herself.

They looked for each other’s eyes in the darkness for one last proof it was all real and just smiled, nodding at each other.

This is it, that meant.

She opened the silver package and Joe adjusted himself and after another brief glance of reassurance, he sank into her, hushed groans leaving his pink lips.

Elizabeth arched her back and exhaled heavily, quiet moans escaping her lips as Joe found a slow pace. Her arms and legs involuntarily wrapped around his body as if to cling to him and keep him as close as she could.

At that new angle, Joe was nearly overwhelmed with pleasure, he shut his eyes and bit his lips to hush himself from groaning out loud.

“G-God… Liz, you’re killing me…” he managed to say and she let out a brief breathless chuckle but couldn’t bring herself to articulate any words.

She roamed her fingertips up and down the soft skin of his back, causing him to mutter something that sounded like fuck under his breath.

While he had slowed the pace to rest a little, she held the grip with her legs and rolled both of them over so that Joe was now laying on his back. As she sat up and started circling her hips in a slow deadly pace, Joe ran his hands through his hair, moaning and muttering swear words.

When his hips spasmed upwards, signalling he was close to his climax, Elizabeth let her head fall backwards, overcome by a rush of pleasure. It felt like electricity in her veins. She felt her core clenching and she knew she was very close as well.

She stopped her hips and lowered herself to kiss him again. Joe took the chance to roll over and thrust a few times more before letting the climax rush through him. As he kept moving for a few seconds after, waiting for Elizabeth to come undone as well, he intertwined his hand with hers and held it tight.

They collapsed next to each other. And for a few seconds, the room was dead silent. The only noises were the radiator and the freezing wind shaking the plants outside.

Elizabeth was still incredulous of what had happened, and even if she may have thought about comparing the experience with Gwilym’s before, she knew she had no reason to. She didn’t want to. They were two completely different matters.

“You literally know everything about me now,” she whispered, a dopey smile on her face.

Joe slowly chuckled, sliding his arm under her neck and intertwining their fingers together, as Elizabeth rested her head between his shoulder and chest.

He hesitated, suddenly vulnerable and insecure, “Did you… regret this?”

Elizabeth tilted her head back so they could look at each other in the eyes, “This may be the first time in my life when I am sure I have done the right thing.”

Joe’s smile widened as he let out a sigh of relief and leaned to kiss her forehead.

“Well, you have done me, - he continued in his usual playful tone – so that would make me ‘the right thing’?”

Elizabeth chuckled and shook her head, “You’re a doofus as always”.

Joe was glad she looked relaxed: he’d worried he’d forced her into something she didn’t want to be dragged into, but now that they were back to their usual shenanigans, he knew they were fine.

“Funniest thing is – Elizabeth continued – Hardy thought we had already done this… I mean from the look he gave us, he seemed to think, if we hadn’t already, then we would have done it soon…”

“Well, we proved him wrong…” Joe sarcastically said they chuckled, as their fingers kept intertwining and untangling.

Elizabeth’s phone lighting up partially ruined the quiet atmosphere. She excused herself and got up to fetch it from the desk, while Joe headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

“It’s my mom… It’s past midnight,” Elizabeth said, before realising she was standing butt naked in the middle of the room.

As she picked up her knickers and Joe’s pijama t-shirt, Joe reappeared into the room with a new pair of boxers and a sweet smile on his face, “Merry Christmas, Lizzie”

He walked up to her and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Merry Christmas, Joey - she replied with a smile, - We are in big trouble…” she added, rotating the screen of her phone in his direction.

Joe furrowed his eyebrows confused and tried focusing on the chain of notifications, “Holy crap,” he just commented.

2 voicemails.

5 missed calls.

3 missed video calls.

37 texts.

All from Alex, the last one saying: ‘I am gonna kill you, woman’

Chapters: ⬸ previous | next ⤑

Pretty spicy and damn cute, don’t you think so? Let us know your opinion, reblog and like the chpater if you enjoyed it! Stay safe during these hard times! 💖

Cheers, folks! xx 🌷

Tag List: @littledarlingwellaway - @petriwhore - @bohemiandelilah - @misshystericalqueen - @loki-lover095 - @inthelapofthe39 - @starsoflovingness-wq - @minetticatinwonderland - @cairdes20 - @friendswillbefriendsblog - @o-holynight - @trash-record-collection- @please-stop-me-now - @imgonnabeyourslave - @babygotblueeyes - @mi55chanandlerbong - @deaky-with-a-c - @luckytrashgooprebel - @thosequeenboys - @rogerismyfairyking - @killer-qu33n-of-disaster - @sunshine112 - @a19103 - @queenlover05 - @modymody99 - @bensrhapsody - @peterwandaparker - @sjeunhaelover - @franciu95

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queenofcats17 · 4 years

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Did/May you write the scene where Henry takes the blame for Buddy's thievery? (you don't have if you don't want too, and I'm sorry if its too much to ask)

Sorry this took so long.

Also, I like the idea of Henry and Ms. Lambert being friends, so I ran with it.

-------------------------------------------------------

“I’m sorry, Buddy, but this is unacceptable. Stealing is not allowed and Mister Drew is very strict about that. You can’t do it, Buddy.”

Right, okay. I got it, I got it. I wouldn’t do it again. “I won’t do it again.”

Ms. Lambert shook her head and then stared up at the pipes running across the ceiling over my head. “I’m sorry, Buddy. I have to take you to Mister Drew.”

My stomach fell out of my body. I could almost hear it in my imagination, flopping onto the floor with a squish.

All I felt was hollow at how unfair it was. It was just some paper and ink. But yeah, it wasn't like I could afford paper and ink. It had a cost. And evidently a much bigger cost than I’d realized.

“I told him he could take it.”

Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder and Henry was at my side. It seemed like he’d come out of nowhere.

“I told him he could take it,” Henry repeated. “If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me. I was the one who told him it was alright.”

Ms. Lambert sighed and shook her head again. “Henry...”

“It’s okay, Abby.” Henry took a step toward her. He had a disarming smile, the kind the hero always had in the pictures before he did something stupid that would save the day.

I’d never heard anyone call Ms. Lambert by her first name before. Coming from anyone else, I would’ve thought they were being disrespectful. But it didn’t seem like Henry was disrespecting her. It kind of sounded like they were friends.

“You’re just looking for a fight,” said Ms. Lambert.

“Maybe I am,” Henry said and his face got dark. “But it’s a fight Joey started.”

Ms. Lambert stared at him. She looked tired. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

Henry smiled again. “Nope.”

“Fine.” She started to walk away with Henry but looked back at me before she left the room. “Buddy, get back to work.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Everyone could hear the screaming match Mister Drew and Henry had, but I was the only one who seemed surprised.

“They’ve been at each other’s throats for ages now,” Dot told me when I asked about it.

“But why?” I asked. “Aren’t they friends? Didn’t they start this place together?”

“They did. But then Mister Drew took all the credit for Mister Stein’s work,” Dot said.

My stomach twisted at that. I didn’t want to believe Mister Drew would do something like that. But Henry didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d get worked up over nothing.

I didn’t want to think about it. So I didn’t. I just put my head down and kept working. I didn’t want to do anything that would draw attention to me. Not after Henry had stuck his neck out for me like that. He’d given me an opportunity and I wasn’t going to waste it.

#bendy and the ink machine #voices of love au #abigail lambert #buddy lewek #henry stein #batim dot

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tslasvegas · 3 years

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Episode 10: “I ain't gettin fooled a third time.” - Jeff

Darn it. That vote hurt. I mean it's a game, and there's only one winner, but Steph and I had a great time the last time we played, and we played well here too. But our Final 2 tag hurt us. I mean, yes, we had that agreement, but it hurt us. I had to vote her, as there was no other way forward. Even if I used my Steal a Vote, it would not have been enough. Good thing Kailyn spoke up after the vote, so they know it was her who voted with Steph and not me. Hopefully that lessens me as a target. How does Ben have so many advantages. He will be out to win immunity next for sure.

I am actually really sad that we voted Stephanie out. I think there were better options but I guess it had to happen. It’s interesting that is spread so rapidly to everyone else in the game. I didn’t speak to really anyone and yet everyone knew what was happening. There’s definitely some connections going on that I’m unaware of. But also! One step closer to making it to single digits! I just have to survive two more tribals and I’m officially a flop no more! With the Super Idol, technically I can be “voted out” once before leaving the game, if Liv still decides to play it on me. So I’m feeling pretty good about my chances moving forward. The meninist group is a solid 5 I think. That’s almost half the tribe remaining. At this point, I really don’t think there’s a path for me to actually win the game. Unless I take control and start some big moves right away. But we will see.

Okay so it's been a while, and there's a lot to unpack. Merging: In regards to the merge itself, I have very mixed feelings about how the people in the merge are, and how things generally shook out in regards to the tribe divisions. Getting sent in with an instant 7-3-3 should, in normal circumstances, be pretty damning in how an early merge goes. People have a tendency to play safe, lay low, and just ride out the game a little bit before really going for anything. As far as the people we merged with that I had not met yet: Jaiden - Really cool guy, I spend all day talking to him, shooting the shit, just having a good time. Easily top 3 people this season for me. I want to go far with him. Xavier - Kinda neutral on him. I speak to him sometimes, but the conversations do not really have much in the way of depth to him. John - Meh. Doesn't speak a ton, just kind of minding his own business. Kailyn - Doesn't speak to me much at all. We've exchanged a couple of messages, but nothing too substantial. Whatever I guess. Ben - Literally refuses to speak to me. Not sure what his deal is or why he acts the way he does, but whatever I guess. So as a basic assessment, pre F13 tribal, the people I feel best about are Jake, Jaiden, Keegan, and Joey. These are the ones that I should be able to trust, that should be able to get me farther into the game. I feel with this that I'm in a better spot than I was in my previous 2 seasons, because I seem to have alleviated the issue of only having real connections to people on "my side". In Svalbard I was very isolated with Nathan/Rachael/John, and got burnt because the rest didn't want to play with me anymore. In Finland, it felt like more of a dice roll really, but I never got going with Tom/Drew/Bodhi/Zoe, so I was the first to get burnt because my connections just weren't good enough. But now, I should have the means to protect myself on both sides, and make it farther based on that. First tribal comes around, Palazzo has numbers, things should be simple. Ben doesn't talk to people, no one has a problem if he were to get sent home. Easy enough. Andrew makes people a bit wary, but its first tribal, he's not causing any particular harm, and we can deal with that issue later. But then Andrew slips up, he tells Jake that Keegan is the one pushing his name. I'm not sure why he did this, but he did. I confirm with Jake that it was actually Andrew that threw his name out first, but Keegan and I shifted it on to Ben. Whatever, mess is made, but no one says anything, vote should still be Ben. Get to tribal.... Andrew, 9-4. Not one, not two, but three people flip on us at the first tribal, sending Andrew home, and blindsiding myself, Pat, and Stephanie. With this, we're clearly on the outs, and Keegan/Liv/Joey blatantly lied to us. We confront them about it. Get some stories of, "weren't sure how people were feeling, didn't want anything to go wrong with the vote. Andrew was causing problems". Like yeah, okay, I know that that happened, but I had already expressed to both Keegan and Joey that I had strong reservations about how Andrew was approaching the game, and didn't want to have him be in long. I didn't think he's go right away, but clearly I was alright with the idea, yet they let me out. Fool me once, shame on you. Next time, okay votes gonna be simple. No one likes Ben, he doesn't talk to anyone, he just ignores me, he's gonna go home. Fine, everyone's happy. Well of course, we get to tribal, and he plays SWOP. I knew something was up, the way he was acting just wasn't right. Andrew said he was a good player, and I knew something was up when he was just giving up and having needless outbursts. Not the type of play that you'd expect from a "good player". So okay, we go back to OG Palazzo chat. Everyone says "lets vote John". Okay fine. Pat and I get to talking, because we're both close with Jaiden and Jake, and entertain the idea of voting Steph. Figure that we can get ahead of the curve because Palazzo is a mess, set ourselves up for the future. Pat can't change his vote cause he already casted, oops. I vote and play an extra vote because I thought a tie could be risked because I can't count. Vote goes 10-2 on Steph. Yet again, Joey, Keegan, and Liv opted to not say a word about anything to Pat and I. They don't care about us. They expect us to just do what they say, go along with whatever story they tell us before bed, but I ain't havin it anymore. Fool me twice, shame on me. I ain't gettin fooled a third time. These fuckers ain't gonna walk all over us and act like we ain't actual players. If they don't want to work with us, tell us anything, then I don't need them. I'll go with Jaiden and Jake, who are much more fun to talk to anyway, and curbstomp all of them. People already took Rachael from me, I ain't lettin them get any more W's on me.

Stephanie is gone! I can't believe I made it through that cracked ass tribal council, but I used the limited information Ben was providing to me to my advantage. The moment Ben told me what was going on, I swooped to Keegan and John and told them to prepare for the worst - tbh I thought he was going to have an idol or something and we would need to throw votes elsewhere. I think Keegan was the one who said he thought Ben's got a safety without power from his statements and it made so much sense to me. When it came time to scramble, obviously I didn't wanna be the first person to throw a name out there, but once the opportunity presented itself I tossed Stephanie's name out and it basically caught on like wildfire. I told Joey first, then the Meninist alliance chat. There definitely was some push back at first from Keegan, which I'll get to in a bit, as well as I think Livingston a little bit. Then it just caught on FIRE. Suddenly Stephanie's name was going through everything it felt like and every single person was down for Stephanie. For a minute there was a brief insurgence of John names, but I think me throwing Stephanie's name out first was the best thing to happen because once a name was out there, it basically ignited the power keg and there was no way to stop it. I think it could've gone the other way had John's name gone out first tbh... It is just such a relief to have some sort of affirmation that my targets are going home. I feel a lot stronger now than ever before, almost like allowing Andrew to go over Ben last round is giving me an edge like I've never had before. Tbh as much as I dislike Ben as a player, I do kinda hate this circlejerk kind of group hate for the guy because I don't think he's done anything so bad that it makes him a bad person... maybe not the kind of guy I'd associate with in real life... but I'm sure he's chill outside of this. I also don't wanna come across like on this moral high ground where I'm better than anybody because I definitely talk a lot of shit about everyone else, but as somebody who was in the same shoes as him once, I can empathize with how it feels right now. I can empathize because when I played Tumblr Survivor starting out I definitely was really messy for the fun of it and it slowly started to become un-fun when everyone made it their mission to kinda be shitty to me. I don't know what Ben's goal is here and I'm not a specialist trying to diagnose him, but... yeah. I just feel bad that he's being dogpiled by all of us with hateful attitudes is all. ANYWAYS, back to something that matters - me! I finally survived the dreaded second tribal council of the merge. I've already beaten that part from India, now I just need to make it past the next two votes and I've made it to my first goal - single digits!! I know that I'm competing with a lot of people for single digits right now lol but I hope that people wise up and start taking care of the real threats in the game, namely Livingston, John, Kailyn, and Joey. Getting a dark round, I think this is the best thing we could've asked for because like I said before, I think Keegan was holding himself back from really pushing his agenda. I think Keegan is aware how big of a threat John is in these games, so if I can sort of use Keegan's mistrust in John against him, I might be able to swing for a much bigger target this coming round - Livingston. I kinda feel like Livingston is REALLY well-connected on this tribe, he's basically best friends with everyone from Jake to Joey to Keegan to Pat. If I want to free some of those bigger names up, I really need to go for Livingston because his position is SO desirable right now. I think people are cognizant to the danger posed by those four guys, but no one is really looking at Livingston because they love him so much. If I can somehow convince John that getting rid of Livingston benefits both of us, I might take that shot. It's going to come at a huge fucking risk though, but doesn't everything when you're playing in the dark have a big risk associated with it? Then it just kinda takes getting Ben, Kailyn, and Xavier on my side as well and then the shot is literally so close I can taste it. HOWEVER! Before I start hyping myself up right now, I have to focus on what really matters to me - getting to the end. Resume building doesn't need to start at the final eleven. My biggest error in all of my past Tumblr Survivor games is that I start playing the game REALLY hard way too early. I've learned maybe a couple lessons in subtlety along the way, so planting seeds is gonna need to be the way to go. If I start saying things like, "isn't Livingston so cool? He's basically friends with everyone" and "I would like to see Livingston win if I'm not in the end, he's a really cool guy" it'll 1) be super obvious that I want to make a move against him and 2) maybe start giving people the idea that their best friend is their biggest competition in the end. Something doesn't need to happen tomorrow. It's about the long game, too. I just hope for my sake that I'm doing enough to keep my head above water. If tonight was proof of anything, it's that this game is going to get a lot more difficult.

I can't believe that worked so perfectly. Ben does everything I tell him to do, even down to interrupting me during the challenge. He's public enemy #1, and that's another meat shield for me. Stephanie goes - truthfully I feel horrible because she is so sweet - but that's the last person who I wasn't directly aligned with. Also, the Dark Round couldn't have come at a better time. If Ben or I win immunity, I have a plan to get out another big threat. And this is one of my favorite flash games. But at this point I need to act like Ben and I aren't tight. If I make it to the end everyone is gonna hate me. Oof.

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh S3 Ep 46-47: We Have an Extra Episode, Just Blow Up the Island, I Dunno

Yo can you even believe this season is over?

It was honestly a two-season season, when you think about it. This tournament that was only like a week in showtime but two years in watch time if it was 2001 and I was tuning in every week. Kinda nuts when you think about it.

Anyways, it’s over, and not even the Kaibas are willing to really let it end. They’re camping out in their bunker they just set to explode, just watching everyone run around like ants while the sirens wail across the island (do you NEED emergency sirens if no one else lives on this island?)

And we get one more time for the writers of this show to flip over the Kaiba timeline like pancakes and I just...

I can’t believe they did this to me, but at the same time I can totally see how they just let this one fly under the radar, just wait for it, it’s coming.

(read more under the cut)

So this sort of explains a little bit more of why Kaiba insists on building Kaibaland when it already exists, as apparently the Japanese Kaibaland was just the first of a franchise. Like seriously what child dreams of Franchising? He has Kaibaland but is like “I won’t be truly happy at all and I will try to cut people up with card games until there are more Kaibalands. That will surely make me happy. More Kaibalands.”

But then, sitting in the middle of the orphanage, he stands up in his 70′s ass sweatervest and proudly proclaims:

This borked timeline.

Back in the present Joey is feeling stressed out so he’s turned to his only coping mechanism, that’s right, he’s hassling people.

Duke, who has a million motivations to want to kill Kaiba, since he works for Pegasus, brings up the bright idea of “or I dunno, we could leave them? Like they very much caused every event of the last week to happen outside of the random ass cultists.”

And so, now that Joey has exhausted things to hassle, let them be Roland or the massive engines on the blimp-plane, he decides to board the helicopter. I kid you not, Tea turns to Joey as they’re boarding the copter and says basically along the lines of this:

WTF, show. Like what? Like whaaaat? Anyway, don’t think about how big a helicopter is on the inside, because we’re just gonna shove everyone in here like it’s a mosh pit. Good thing that no one actually packed any luggage or pajamas, so at least that will keep the weight down.

Please admire the height of Yugi compared to Roland.

What followed was an explosion that the show did for...some reason. This didn’t need to happen. This was needless anxiety and it’s like..the season’s over why are we doing this???

So this is just a very Yugioh moment where...they didn’t really HAVE to blow up the island at the last minute. They didn’t HAVE to break the engines on the blimp-plane and they absolutely didn’t HAVE to put Seto Kaiba in a jet in the same very un-aerodynamic shape of a blue eyes white wife.

But they did.

If I’ve learned anything from watching Yugioh is that you must always, at every moment, be going 400%.

Seto just wanted to make a simple visual statement of “I want to move on from the past” so he decided to uh...do a very theatrical statement that was so theatrical that everyone thought that not only he and Mokuba had died, but that they, themselves, were about to die (and they were, they absolutely were)

Please admire the way they drew Seto from the side in this scene.

Anyway, now that the completely unnecessary “lets blow up the island and destroy the ecosystem” drama is over, and Kaiba’s off to encourage Global Warming in some other part of the globe, it’s time to send Marik off on his boat. It’s time for him to go have Marik Boat Time and never ever become a spinoff series although you know I would absolutely watch the hell out of that.

So, they choose the most idyllic landscape to do it, here in the abandoned warehouse district, surrounded by shipping cranes and strangely empty cruise liners. Ah, that twilight hour sunset. The way the sunlight kisses the corners of the abandoned warehouse’s windows.

I am absolutely shocked our background artist didn't use the chance to paint it neon orange. They love neon orange so much but I guess they save the neon for dramatic scenes. This one they left a more natural Instagram creamy color palate.

(PS at this point I guess Bakura decided to go home or go to the hospital. Whichever reason he decided to bounce, he bounced without saying goodbye to anyone apparently. That or the show just decided that no one cares about Bakura so he was the only one we didn’t say a farewell too, which is hilarious since he’s one of the most popular characters on this show.

Bro broke it to me, this whole story line of the puzzle and the tablet and all that--nah. By the time we get to it I’ll have forgotten all of the lore, pretty sure. Bro did ask me if we could skip S4 and I said no we are here for the worst parts first, Bro. When it gets horrible is when we’re finally getting to the good stuff.

Then, Duke suddenly remembered that before this tournament, he was only going on a walk between laundry loads but ended up abducted twice over, stranded on a submarine, an island, and nearly exploded. That and he had to sleep on one of Kaiba’s weird cube couches and that probably sucked. But it’s time for him to pull out his colors and add some bounce sheets to his whites for the dryer.

Can you believe they had Duke Devlin for two seasons but he only dueled once? Lol.

I can’t believe there was never a purpose for Duke Devlin other than to be eye-candy. I’ve only ever really seen this trope done to girls.

Mai also suddenly remembers that she doesn’t live here.

TBH, if Mai wasn’t put in a coma, I think she would have just left the tournament after she lost. She’d have pulled out a hang-glider from her pack and just sailed away rather than spend another minute with people she isn’t absolutely required to hang out with. That seems more her jam.

And then they had to frame up this Joey/Mai ship and...it’s just so funny when you remember that Mai is like waaay to old for Joey. She’s like 24 and he’s a baby but he’s pretty sure that he’s disappointing her so much by not telling her all about how he’s crushing. He’s pretty sure she just has no idea when it’s like, no, she does, and she does not want you to acknowledge it.

As she goes off, Tea for some reason decides to make it her responsibility for Joey to go out there and I guess...mortally embarrass himself in front of his much older crush? I mean you don’t really have to admit to your teachercrush that...you like her? Like, Mai is just a teachercrush right? Like he respects and admires her, she’s pretty, and there’s no other girls but Tea and Miho? Like that’s it?

This weird ass couple. And I mean it’s a weird pairing just because it can never happen on screen, but as some of you have pointed out--it is probably the healthiest couple in Yugioh. Mostly because we know that it will never happen. Unlike everyone else where it’s like, Joey better go eat both those pieces of paper with those phone numbers on it because holy hell a 16 yo dating a 12 yo is pretty freakin wild. What are those boys even going to talk about with Serenity? How wild fractions are? How to make a replica of a cell out of Jello for the science fair? Because that’s the level she’s at.

I was an architecture student once (I know. Ya’ll who’ve read many of these have probably noticed I attempted to major in nearly every art alignment so it’s probably very confusing to figure out wtf I actually ended up finishing in school (it was Illustration) ) so I just can’t with Yugi’s house. We have seen several rooms inside this house and none of them, absolutely none, line up with the outside of Yugi’s house (which is smack dab in the middle of the inner city for some reason??? Like does Yugi have PARKING? This is the most expensive two story house in Japan, it comes with free parking.

And like...I have tried to lay it out but it doesn’t make sense. The stairs of the shop go directly into the front door. The second floor would be half a staircase, so where is this living room? And assuming that Yugi is on the top floor with the slanted roof window...how? Is it the entire floor? what is going on here?

It’s a cartoon, I shouldn’t think about it, but this house is a Dr. Who police box. Anyways, Yugi decides to sneak out of the house by going down the stairs that are again, right in front of the front door. You cannot go through the front door of this house because these damn stairs are directly in the way.

Hey check out who’s alive, it’s Grandpa. I guess he’s...fine? I guess he just woke up on the floor of Bakura’s hospital room and was like “Screw that, I’m going home.” and then just peaced out here until Yugi came back.

I respect his moon pj’s to go with Yugi’s star pj’s.

I can’t imagine being in Grandpa’s position and seeing your boy go out there and get nearly killed by crazy ass cultists again and Seto Kaiba (who put him in a coma), and then catching him Sneaking Out. Like if I were Grandpa I’d just set up camp right outside of the front door because holy hell Yugi is so attracted to danger he’s just gonna waltz around the city in the middle of the night to play cards.

++++++++++RANT ABOUT TACO BELL, FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS IS JUST ME TALKING ABOUT THE TACO BELL MENU+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Also I looked up Taco Bell in Japan thinking that this wouldn’t be a thing (from what I’ve heard, the only food Japan cannot do is Mexican) but not only does Taco Bell in Japan completely exist, guess what the menu is like? Just go ahead and guess in your head, I’m gonna go over the menu right now because this is very important.

I was expecting it to be pretty wild with a black taco shell made out of squid ink or something but surprisingly, it’s mostly the freakin same but different meats. Like they have a few more pork options (I guess instead of chicken?) and they have a shrimp taco--which I feel like we’ve done in the States before but everyone didn’t like that. Also, you can apparently get a crunchwrap, but it’s in a triangle shape instead of an octagon. They just changed the shape and called it a “stuffed grilled giant nacho”.

Obviously, they do not have a Ranch Doritos taco since America is the only place that is fully obsessed with Ranch. I have heard from so many people from Asia that “can we just not have Ranch today? Can we have a single spread without this weird garlic sauce? And...are you dipping your pizza with it? Is there one thing you haven’t coated with Ranch Dressing?” and it’s like no. There isn’t. Would you like to try our taco bell taco that is frosted in messy Ranch dust?

Like it really feels like this is the one fast food joint where everyone else has the normal Taco bell, and weirdly WE are are the people with the weird ass version of Taco Bell. Even Japan was like “you guys do you over there with your pink Starburst flavored frozen icee and your Quesarito...we’re just gonna put some extra cheese on a taco and call it ‘double cheese.’”

But here’s the craziest thing on the menu--the Taco Bell in Japan has FRIES.

I KNOW.

WHAT????

What would Taco Bell fries even taste like? Would they taste...tacoey? I mean I know that nacho fries are a thing that kinda comes and goes but I’ve never had them actually. Its never the right moment for nacho fries when Nacho fries are still on the menu.

but, I will say they do have one kind of weird thing on the menu I see online. I say “kind of” because it’s...just weird, it’s not actually all that out there as compared to our weird things in Taco bell. They got something called the “honey cheese pocket” which was a small plain flour tortilla filled with melted Monterey Jack cheese rolled into a cigar that you dip into honey.

...I mean...it probably tastes good, but if you released a honey cheese pocket in the States and pretended that’s Mexican food, I’m pretty sure every state touching the south border would cry a single Zesty-ranch-doritos-taco-shaped-tear. I know I would, at the same rate I’m stuffing honey cheese pockets directly into my mouth.

AND...apparently you can just serve alcohol in a Japanese Taco Bell. Which is interesting, because we had that episode of Season Zero where Yugi had to find alcohol in a burger joint, which seemed really odd to me at the time, but I guess you can just serve alcohol in whatever restaurant? Anyways, Taco bell has alcohol so now Yugi can light people on fire in a Taco Bell, if he really felt like it. Go ahead and append your fanfictions accordingly.

+++++++++END OF TACO BELL RANT, BACK TO CARDS ++++++++++++

So, can you imagine having a friend who forces you to wake up at o-dark hundred in order to play cards when you already attend all of the same classes and see eachother every minute of the day otherwise? Can you imagine having a friend like this?

Then again I’m not 100% on whether Pharaoh needs to sleep. It’s pretty clear that Bakura’s ghost doesn’t sleep much (or apparently eat much) so maybe it goes the same for Pharaoh as well that he needs Yugi to remind him how to be human.

Then there was this weird review episode they slapped on at the end. I...don’t know why they put it there, it was really more of an afterthought since nothing really got added or taken away from the finale. It was just a review episode of “in case you didn’t watch this season, here’s what happened this season” But the episode wasn’t over before Tea angsted the hell out about this kid that I guess she’s...

Tea thinks in her head about Yugi more than she talks directly to Yugi. That’s really my biggest issue with this couple. Tea can be so lukewarm towards Yugi and visa versa and then occasionally Tea will just snap and obsesses over this boy, but never tells him about it directly. Except for that one time in the blimp, which was more about “please don’t die”. But have they talked about how freakin anxious she is about how he’ll die? Nah.

It just feels like the writing team had one person who really liked Tea/Yugi, and then the rest who were like “fine, wtv” and so we get a real inconsistent narrative of this pair, that only seems to come up for drama, but then goes right back to being invisible moments later. Like sightings of a giant squid.

Ah, back where they started, on a date with a ghost. I think. This might be a date? It started at 2 PM so I don’t know that counts as a date yet.

These two are a lot.

And honestly...If it was going to happen it should have happened at some point in the end of this arc. She made such a big deal about him going off to card war, and now he’s back and she’s like...ok, cool.

They’re not gonna even talk about it? Or like...maybe high five it out? High five out those feelings? Man I feel so bad for anyone that shipped these two.

But anyway,

I’d add it to the Yugioh Death Count but that’s assuming that I don’t find an excuse to use this font again.

So yeah, that’s it for Season 3 (I wrote in Season 4 just now and had to really think about it because like...it really does feel like I went through 4 seasons, at least, of this show since every season is like 50 episodes)

Originally, when I started this, I thought there were only 3 seasons of Yugioh total. This was the end goal.

But I guess I’m committed now, so we’ll start up Season 4, which bro tells me is “completely different and not what you expected” but I probably won’t post until 2 weeks from now because this is a side hobby and I don’t need to wax long about my main-life stress, but youknow how it is: the more stuff I add the more stuff adds up. However, I do cope with stress by typing, so maybe I’ll just make sooo many updates to combat it? I dunno. But the blog will be back for S4. Eventually. When I get to it.

Many thanks to all y’all who’ve left many kind comments, I’ve been kind of tasked for time lately, so I haven’t really responded to many, but know that I see them and I’m thankful for them and I tell bro about them and he finds many of them amusing and y’all are just very, very nice. Wish Tumblr had an actual comments system since the only way to reply is like...it’s weird. If I reblog my own post I run the risk of it then being out of chronological order for people wanting to read that link I put at the base of each post so...I have to either make a new post to reply or reply within the post and I dunno if y’all can even see that type of reply...it’s tumblr problems.

Anyway, I’ll have a Graveyard for next weekend, maybe an art post, I dunno. But, I’m not dead, just watching how weird the next season is and making a buffer.

And here’s that link to read all these recaps in chrono order from the beginning

#ygo #yugioh #s3 #we finished s3 #s3 ep 46 #s3 ep47 #I might have those episode numbers wrong because 47 is a weird episode to end on #but I'm not gonna double check because we done #yugi muto #tea gardner #tristan taylor #duke devlin #serenity wheeler #seto kaiba #mokuba #mai valentine #a very long rant about taco bell

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megalony · 5 years

Text

Spare parts

Another Ben Hardy imagine that is based on the book ‘My sister’s keeper’.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @langdonzvoid @butlegendsneverdie @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap

Ben Hardy masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You are not considering this?" Ben's chest began to heave as he stared at his wife as if he didn't recognise her anymore. His eyes burning into her own as his hands started to clench into fists at what was being suggested to them by the doctor sitting in front of them both. "She's six!" Ben almost screamed, the lid holding in his temper was beginning to lift as he jumped to his feet.

There was no way that he could sit here and listen to this conversation any more that was undoubtedly going to put one of his daughter's in danger if this was even considered. Ben was not going to agree to this and he was not having anyone make this decision behind his back or make this for his daughter. This was not happening to Lily.

"Mr Jones, please calm down. This procedure does have risks-"

"Read my lips. No. You can't do this without my consent even if you have hers and you are not getting it. You've all done enough to my daughter, you are not doing this shit to her anymore."

Even if they had Claire's consent to go through with this they didn't have Ben's and his name had been on all of the forms from the very beginning. They knew if they even tried to go behind his back on this he would do something drastic such as taking legal action against them. He was not permitting Lily to be subjected to this and he couldn't bear to look at his wife who already seemed to have made up her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stuffing both hands into the pockets of his jacket, Ben couldn't stop his foot from tapping anxiously against the floor. His hand briefly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his phone when he felt it vibrating. His heart picking up speed when he saw the name of who was calling. Ben didn't think twice before declining the call when he saw it was his wife.

Glancing his eyes up he quickly stuffed the phone into his back pocket when Lily anxiously walked over to him, clearly confused as to why Ben was picking her up from school early.

"Thank you." He stated kindly to the teacher stood behind Lily who had fetched her from class. Trying his best to hide his nerves so they wouldn't get the impression that anything was wrong. Reaching out Ben bent down so he could scoop Lily up into his arms, feeling her arms wrap rather tightly around his neck before he turned around and headed out of the school reception. His pace slowing down to a normal one as he tried not to run out of the school to get to the car.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Lily's voice came out timid and rather afraid as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck as Ben walked over to his car.

"S'alright, don't worry baby. I'm taking you away for the afternoon." Ben didn't know if telling her the truth or not would be the best option but she could easily tell when he was nervous and right now he was panicking. That in turn always made Lily panic and he didn't want that but there wasn't much else he could do right now. Ben was pulling at straws.

"Why? D-do I have to go to the hospital early?" The amount of fear in her voice made Ben want to cry. His chest quaking as he quickly reached the car, opening it and sitting in the back for a moment so he could talk to Lily without anyone overhearing. Setting her down on his knee he quickly shook his head to her question, his arms winding around her middle as she clutched at his shirt as if it was her lifeline.

"Sweetheart, I know your mum said you have to see the doctor today but I'm not letting that happen. You don't have to do anything you don't want to and I won't let them go through with this if you don't want to."

"I don't want to... b-but mummy said I have to help Rosie." The words came out in a quiet whimper so low that Ben nearly missed them. His head tilted down to look at the six-year-old, her eyes locking with his own that were brimming with tears. Ben couldn't handle this anymore, all those times Lily had agreed to help her sister because she was made to believe that it was what she needed to do. Her mother practically telling her it was what she was alive for. Ben couldn't do that to his youngest girl anymore, he couldn't have her thinking that she needed to do this if she didn't want to.

"Rosie isn't well, but this will make you ill too and that's not fair. Now, your mum doesn't know I'm taking you out, we're going to see uncle Joe for a while, that okay?" Ben had made a split second decision to take Lily from school, only telling Joe of his plans.

Claire had been the one to book the doctor's appointment for Lily to discuss something that Ben was dead set against. She hadn't told Ben because she knew his views on the matter but Lily had let slip the night before thinking he already knew about the appointment. Lily would never set foot in the hospital without Ben there to hold her hand and tell her everything was okay so for her to know now that he wasn't taking her and didn't want her to go showed her this was bad. This was something that Ben drew the line at completely and he was not crossing that line. So he waited until Claire left the house before speeding down to come and collect Lily.

Joe had kindly agreed to look after Lily for Ben without telling anyone so Ben could get a few things worked out.

"Okay."

It didn't take too long to get from the school to Joe's home, watching a bright smile light up his face when Lily trotted over to him with her arms out wide.

"Uncle Joey!" Thankfully her anxiety about the situation had died down quite a lot during the car ride which in turn calmed Ben down immensely. Reaching over Joe picked up the six-year-old, bouncing her on his hip before he turned to look at Ben and beckoned him inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Alright, where's Lily? The school said you picked her up and now we're late for the appointment so come on." Claire sighed, setting her bag down on the kitchen counter as Ben's eyes shot daggers at her through his glare over the rim of his mug. He didn't seem at all fazed by her question as he continued to drink his coffee in silence, knowing it was aggravating her.

"She's fine, she's out for the day." Ben couldn't say where she was because that would defeat the point of taking her to stay with Joe. Claire didn't know where Joe lived and she would never think of Ben taking Lily to stay with him for a while. He wasn't having Lily stay with family where Claire could easily go and get her to take her to the doctors.

"Don't do this Ben. Why is Lily more important than Rosie?" It was a good job that Ben had set the mug down or else he would have choked on his coffee at her words. She was a fine one to walk when she clearly didn't think of Lily's best interests, Rosie's health always being paramount to Lily and Ben was sick of it. He was sick of her thinking Rosie was more important and he was sick of Lily being pushed to help her sister when she clearly didn't want to anymore. Ben was also fed up of how he used to agree with Claire when they used to bribe their own daughter to go through with all the appointments and the surgery and the tests to help their other daughter.

This time it was too much to ask and Ben was finally doing what he should have done many years ago. He was sticking up for his youngest daughter and he was not backing down.

"What does Rosie want for her birthday?" The question caught Claire off guard, her eyes narrowing in confusion as this had nothing to do with the conversation at hand. Rosie's birthday wasn't for another five months. "Just answer the question." Ben stated before she had a chance to tell him that this was irrelevant.

"To be at home for her birthday, to have a movie day like we always used to with a pillow den and all the movies she missed whilst she's in hospital. Why?" Folding his arms on the counter Ben nodded along with what Claire was saying, knowing his next words were going to catch her out because she wouldn't have a clue how to answer his question.

"And... what does Lily want for her birthday?"

There it was.

The look of pure confusion and uncertainty in Claire's eyes that showed Ben had set her into a trap that would begin to win him this argument. Claire knew everything Rosie wanted, she knew what Rosie liked to eat, what she liked to watch, her favourite colour and what she wanted for her birthday. But when it came to Lily, oh that was a different matter entirely. Claire's ears only pricked up when Lily said she wanted to help Rosie, that was the main thing Claire knew about her second daughter.

"She hasn't said-"

"She hasn't said? Is that all you got? Rosie's birthday is in five months, Claire! Lily will be seven in two months and you honestly don't give a shit to ask her what she wants? She wants to go to a theme park because we promised her she could ride her first rollercoaster when she was five and we broke that promise to her. And you have the fucking nerve to tell me I think she's more important than Rosie." Lily didn't want anything but to finally be able to go to a theme park for her birthday.

One of the things they had done when Lily was afraid or didn't want to go through with helping her sister was making her promises. Such as they could go on holiday soon or go to a theme park or just get ice cream and such. Ben remembered Lily asking and then not saying anything when they didn't get to take her. So when he asked her what she wanted for her birthday all she said was going to a theme park and he knew she hadn't forgotten their broken promise to her which broke his heart.

"We can't keep doing this anymore Claire. We can't promise Lily she can have an ice cream or go to a theme park or go on holiday if she keeps doing stuff for Rosie it isn't fair."

"What about Rosie? Ben, she's in the hospital where she always is. Lily is her sister, she is her donor we can't just let Rosie lie there when she needs help."

That wasn't an excuse and it wasn't the case anymore. Rosie had leukaemia and had suffered from this form of cancer since she was two. Lily was born so she could be a match for Rosie to help her. First it was just stem cells and they came from the umbilical cord which Ben thought was fine. They wanted another child and it didn't put Lily at risk or hurt her at all, so he saw no problem with this. Then it got worse. Rosie got ill and needed blood so Lily was there to give it to her, then she needed more stem cells and of course Lily to the rescue. Then it was bone marrow which was always the worst because it came from the middle of the bone and was a hurtful procedure.

Claire saw Lily as a donor bag that was there as spare parts and Ben thought it was cruel to keep asking Lily to do all of this when she was so young and so afraid. She hated hospitals and she didn't want to be a donor for her sister it wasn't fair when she only got pain out of it.

Ben cared about both his daughters, how could he not? But there was a point where he drew the line and Rosie needing a kidney was that line. Lily was six, she couldn't give an organ donation and the simple fact that Claire considered this made the actor want to throw up. Lily was not giving her kidney when it came with many risks for her and no benefits. She would have to live a very cautious life and if Rosie wanted anything else Lily would be the one living in a hospital too it wasn't fair. They couldn't ask this of a six-year-old and Ben would not have anyone forcing Lily to go through with this.

"Lily is six years old. I am not having our daughter living the rest of her life on immunosuppressants and hundreds of doctors appointments to make sure she is okay for the rest of her life. She is not giving her kidney to Rosie because it is not humane! What if Lily gets complications? Rosie can go on the donor's list and get a kidney from someone who actually doesn't mind parting with it."

"Rosie can't wait that long Ben! This is the fucking reason we had Lily, to help her sister she can do this she wants to-"

Her words were cut off when the mug resting in front of Ben was shattered against the wooden floor. His hand was quick to swipe out and force it off the table without a second thought.

"That may have been the reason she was conceived, but that is not the reason she is alive! You never ask her if she wants to do this but I did. She is too young to do this and if you want her kidney you go and get a lawyer because I am looking after her best interests here. Rosie is dying Claire, that kills me too but she is. A kidney won't stop the rest of her system from shutting down and once this is done she will want something else and then some more from Lily. I'm not doing this with you anymore, me and Lily are moving out and you are not cutting her up anymore. Consider Lily for once in your life or fight me like the vulture you are for her spare parts."

Ben was not putting a six-year-old girl through an organ transplant when the chances were that it would only give Rosie a few extra months. A kidney was not going to give Rosie her life back and it was not going to take Rosie's cancer away from her no matter how hard they prayed or wished for it to.

He would fight anyone that tried to hurt Lily anymore or force her to do this because Ben was looking after her best interests. Lily was not a yard of spare parts for her sister and she didn't deserve to be treated like one.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #dad! ben #imagine #joe mazzello #my sisters keeper

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halfusek · 6 years

Text

BATIM SPOILERS AHEAD

SECRET MESSAGES FROM CHAPTERS 1 - 5

With a sort of analysis/shitposting on my side? Yea.

Chapter 1

There is like two walls with these, that’s a lot. Is he... aware from the beginning now? I mean someone’s crossing this and Henry is implied to be leaving these messages so...?

Choose your fighter.

Ok wow harsh. Haven’t you seen all these cool AUs in his house?

Also can I just point out how... Joey... literally... drew... the Studio...

Oh, my bad.

He drew STUDIOS. Because the damn thing keeps happening over and over again.

Oh fuck if that’s the case then that is clever. I made puns about him drawing the studio before, wish I did something with it before Chapter 5 dropped, that would be hilarious to look back at fvdfjkvnfkj

That’s just depressing. But like... yeah...

Wow Henry you must be a proud mom now

Hey remember when DAGames played Chapter 4 and was interrupting Alice Angel’s monologue by telling her to stop watch him poop

It spells “There never was a choice.” (never underlined)

Those messages are either hilarious or straight up depressing.

It’s... kinda sweet how Henry from the past (pasts) helps his future self (selfs). And encourages.

I’m pretty sure she’s got many hearts in her stock.

STOP WATCHING ME POOP

Henry what the fuck

The falling human made out of the two Ls, the Y and the splatters above it-

Fuck.

GASPS NO WAY

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He is not the creator of the cartoons. He is the creator OF THIS WHOLE FUCKING STUDIO AND EVERYONE IN IT. Like it’s maybe a sort of obvious thought but when you let it sink in... damn

Rest of the chapters under the cut because it’s really long

Chapter 2

ARE THOSE IRL BODIES? YES? NO? SYMBOLS OF THEIR SOULS BEING TRAPPED HERE? WHAT???

Do you remember that? Or only slightly? Oh man. “I should have warned him” thoughts and then you get a pissed off boy in Chapter 5.

COME ON NOW

Ok. How. How did you write anything there. When. The only time he’s aware would be right after Sammy hits him with the dustpan. So is he like fainting and writing it? So he wouldn’t be able to write anything else like SAMMY IS GOING TO KNOCK YOU OUT WITH A FUCKING DUST PAN because yeah he’s passing out so it’s just... OUCH! Also to confirm this he is facing the way he’s facing when he’s on the floor. God that’s both shitposty and depressing. Nice.

Henry don’t be a dick

So you do sing 👀

I wonder how Henry figured out walking backwards to not trigger the Demon here and write this specific message. Also is Joey behind those closed doors because there’s the whistling.

Is he cooking

Chapter 3

Oh, hi.

Excuse me what

Henry is a Jacksepticeye fan confirmed

Joey is a man of ideas... and only ideas.

Which is why he created a studio, an OC based on a person he has a one sided crush on (me) from who he stole and claimed their OC as his, also made that stolen OC a thing and then made both of the OCs fight in an infinite loop in the massive studio which is behind his kitchen.

This both has a literal meaning but is also like a deeper general thought Henry do you want Joey to create a therapist OC you seem to have some problems

Why do these coffins hurt so much

Who are you asking Henry because Alice sure won’t fucking read that And why won’t you just write it with regular ink why you gotta do it like this

Why does he keep this thing secret? Did he make it? Probably since he’s the one leaving the messages Hmm

I fucking wheezed.

But also imagine Alice just giving her speech and Henry writing something on the wall with his finger Unless he doesn’t write that in a literal sense but like... spiritually Huh

THEY HAD DRINKS TOGETHER AND JOEY WAS PAYING FOR THEM AWW

He’s so fucking gay I swear to fucking gods.

Let’s hop on the existential crisis train, choo, choo.

How can you be kind to people who try to murder you

But this. This. Is such a good fucking work/life thought like damn. I love this game for those.

But are those just some thoughts Henry wanted to get out of his head or does it have something to do with the game because I’m kinda getting pacifist/neutral/genocide route vibes from this. But it it’s not the case it’s still pretty neat, we do meet them, we just don’t have the choice to treat them in some way most of the times.

It’s on level 14 and damn you game damn you yet again. I guess it can also be applied to that moment when The Projectionist is reaching out for Henry who is hidden in the Miracle Station? Like we don’t know what to expect of him because he had that small moment of realisation of... something. And he is also one of Henry’s “old friends”.

Is Is Ink Demon killing The Projectionist a symbol of Joey’s jealousness like Norman: *reaching out in curiosity, maybe to help* Joey: >:( my fren

Chapter 4

Thanks. Roll credits. So Chapter 4 is intentionally pointless in the terms of Henry trying to save Boris. THAT’S FUCKING SAD STOP IT

NOT. MY. DOG. YOU. BITCH.

So Henry is catching up. Joey does regret all that shit he did. I wonder how exactly does it tie here, with Bertie. Maybe that theory I had about Bendy Land being Hell for Bendy? :0c I don’t really think so but that’s a thought.

I’m losing my shit.

Okay that seems like another woke thought.

Henry can’t change not being able to save Boris.

Joey can’t change all of his mistakes. But Joey is the one making it happen over and over again so it might be slightly pointed at him?

Like, pal. Stop dwelling on your mistakes. Move on. Let me the fuck out.

This game is really heavy with this problem:

Move towards your goal, hope, believe, dream, don’t give up. Well actually do if it’s like super hard.

????? This is such a deep uuhhh analysis of this like one of most basics functions of how we people fucking work and live, what keeps us going. Holy shit I am IN LOVE with that.

But oof yeah Henry was and IS the one good at pushing Joey to do the right thing. Man...

Instead of trying to cheer you up lemme just write this message you can’t read real quick.

THAT WHOLE FUCKING THING WAS POINTLESS AND I’M LOWKEY MAD

;_; holy lord sweet baby jesus

Can Henry like be fine fun concept Meatly please

I suggest giving this a read if you as I weren’t familiar with that expression https://quoteinvestigator.com/2014/09/23/heels/

Of course it’s a pun on “Time heals all wounds” expression. The word “heels” there refers to contemptible people. Earliest citation: 1934 and it got more popular around that time till something around the 50s-60s according to that website at least. Neat.

That is interesting. I guess we can associate the door with Joey as well since Henry warns himself not to go through them? And the Demon drags Projectionist’s corpse through them. Sorta against his will, heeeeeeh.

They look like they could be interactive but I dunno :0c

Oh, yeah. That two-faced motherfucker. That’s my bitch.

HE GAVE THEM FUCKING NAMES

Chapter 5

I feel like it was kinda exaggerated. Henry they like saved your life twice or so, how salty can you be

OKAY LET ME TELL YOU ONE FUCKING THING

AT FIRST WHILE PLAYING I THOUGHT JOEY WROTE THOSE BECAUSE

I mean why the fuck would they drop this star outta nowhere AND HE IS EXTRA LIKE THIS

But then again there’s this “Don’t go through the door”

Unless Joey did contact him through this as well? But I’m assuming it only because of the stars vfnjksd Idk I like when symbols actualy uhhh symbolise something

ALSO YOU KNOW WHAT’S INTERESTING

This is pointing at ANOTHER way. Without the boat. Possibly the Valued Employee (take the long walk) achievement?

I would check it right fucking now but my saves are fucked and I would have to replay everything again and I’m just too tired hhhh

Also Valued Employee does sound like someone who listens to their boss right?

And I’m getting the impression it’s not all Henry’s writing because it seems as if there is a different personality present? Idk

That sounds like sort of both of them. Joey is cheering for Henry, even if he’s planning to make him go through all of this again. Does he... have to make him go through it? That’s a bit odd. Joey nani the fuck.

I like the idea of Joey saying this ok lemme dream vskjvnskjvs

But it could be Henry (past/present/whatever) trying to cheer himself up like he did with the “Don’t be scared” message (if that was also him)

Oh, Henry...

Once people That implies that real people got somehow affected, right?

I love the halo and the bone, also you can see the bone only if you give it to Boris in Chapter 3

Wait It is The whole fucking Ink Machine Is inside Holy

A cooking gay.

Ink Demon/Joey parallel implication. I don’t think he is Bendy in a straight up sense though. He is/was a soulless boss, just how soulless Bendy was/is. I wonder if there is a studio version of him or HHHHHH complicated stuff

Is it like When people create something good but they just don't know when to stop it eventually ends up really bad And the Demon took The End so his cartoon couldn't be finished and it all had to keep going, Joey had to keep going Hm?

So like there is no message on Henry’s second desk

But it does trigger the same dialogue AND IT HURTS

Actually a lot of people missed the arrows so just so you know

But I thought we don’t like doors

Also it’s the last hidden message so I do believe it has a special meaning

CONCLUSION get Henry outta here and give him loads of therapy

Is his fucking last name Stein because he made monsters via the Ink Machine by powering it goddamnit Joey don’t trick people into creating that shit

#bendy and the ink machine #batim spoilers #bendy and the ink machine spoilers #chapter 5 spoilers #halfpost #long post #long fucking post #oh my

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thesportssoundoff · 4 years

Text

“Conor McGregor is back! Excitement may vary. Excitement in this card may vary! Excitement is really yours to have and hold, folks” The UFC 246 Fight Preview

Joey

January 13th, 2020

The UFC kicks off its 2019 schedule after a few long weeks off with a card that will, with very little sarcasm in play, play a hefty part in defining the way 2020 rolls out deep into the year. UFC 246 from Las Vegas, Nevada is a weird card on paper but it's also very significant and significance can sometimes create card quality/card quantity. Conor McGregor vs Donald Cerrone is a significant fight, one that figures to ask and answer a lot of questions for both men. For better or worse, the future of two divisions could be mapped out in one night depending on the results of one which fight which again parlays to its perceived significance. The PPV main card is "fine" although it clearly lacks a significant co-main event and the televised prelims are actually respectably spiffy as they're essentially four well put together "prospect of note vs proven veteran" fights with some good early ESPN+ prelim action too. Again I don't know if this card is good or bad---just that it's a significant card of fights and by the time Friday comes along, that long term delay in high level MMA is going to be eating at us SO we'll be all in on this one.

2020 Stat-O-Matic:

Debuting Fighters (): Ode Osbourne, Aleksa Camur Main Event Exemption:

Short Notice Fighters (): Main Event Exemption:

Second Fight (): Askar Askarov Main Event Exemption: Vs Debutantes:

Cage Corrosion (Fighters who have not fought within a year of the date of the fight) (): Conor McGregor, Brian Kelleher Main Event Exemption: Conor McGregor

Undefeated Fighters (): Aleksa Camur, Maycee Barber Main Event Exemption:

Fighters with at least four fights in the UFC with 0 wins over competition still in the organization (): Alexey Oleinik, Justin Ledet Main Event Exemption:

Weight Class Jumpers (Fighters competing outside of the weight class of their last fight even if they’re returning BACK to their “normal weight class”) (): Donald Cerrone, Conor McGregor Main Event Exemption: Conor McGregor, Donald Cerrone

Twelve Precarious Ponderings

1- So what necessarily is the end game here for Conor McGregor? As has been the case since he broke out onto the scene and KO'd Jose Aldo, much of Conor's "plans" feel less like plans and more like thoughts he forces into existence. The good stuff like being a double champ and finagling a big money Floyd fight and the bad stuff like the Khabib lead up or believing he could just beat Nate Diaz up 15 lbs because it seemed like fun all feel like the decisions of a guy who sort of just decides he's going to do something and then does it regardless of the long term impact. Conor had the chance to fight Justin Gaethje and instead pushed for Frankie Edgar fight, ultimately leading us to the here and now where he'll draw Donald Cerrone up a weight class after a year plus layoff. In the time between Conor's LAST fight and this one, he's been arrested, accused of sexual assault, accused of fathering a child out of his marriage and feel free to fill me in on anything I may have missed. What sort of made Conor McGregor a superstar was that he flirted with the concept of being a character completely in control of everything he did and 2019 at the very exposed him as somebody lacking any semblance of control within his life. Either way, it's hard to say what the future holds for McGregor with a win. We know a loss means it's over as four losses in his last five pro fights (I'm counting Floyd here for completionist sake) would probably kill whatever credibility he had and whatever legitimacy he garnered over the course of three years running through the UFC ranks. A win? It's hard to say with a guy who when he's right has the ability to dictate what he opts to do next. A win? Conor McGregor would fight Jorge Masvidal in a big money fight, a third Diaz fight, a GSP fight where both fighters can cash out or go and chase down Khabib. If one truly wishes to get stupid, I suppose fights with Pacquaio, Floyd or Paulie Malignaggi exist out there as well. The first step isn't so much winning this fight but winning this fight and getting back to what made this whole act work to begin with.

2- This is historically the sort of fight Cerrone doesn't show up for and gets forced out of his element but there's some things here I think that do tilt the scales slightly in his favor. For starters, I DO believe in ring rust and Conor hasn't fought in over a year and has fought just twice since the end of 2016. You can argue that wear and tear means Cerrone is shop worn but I feel as though he fights better the MORE he fights and the more active he is. For a fighter like Conor who lives or dies based upon how sharp his timing is, I think it's fair to wonder if the long layoff is going to shake him. We saw him struggle with his timing vs Khabib and while Khabib is on a whole different galaxy than Cerrone, I'd argue it's worse to be slightly off vs a dude like Cerrone who does have the starch in his strikes to do more than flash KD you. Also Cerrone is probably the first guy since Jose Aldo that Conor's had to be mindful of walking into smoke with the legs. Also Cerrone's been campaigning at 170 lbs on and off since 2016 and so you have to assume if this is about being comfortable at the weight class, he's got the nod over Conor.

3- Under normal circumstances, I'd say "I think Conor's defensive wrestling is somewhat understated and the idea that anybody can take him down and sub him is a fallacy" but I also have ZERO idea if he's actually done any serious grappling training or if he's just hoping Cerrone's going to play nice and strike with him for a bit.

4- Which fight is more undesirable for Amanda Nunes; a Holly Holm rematch where she can't realistically top what she did in the first fight or a Rocky Pennington rematch where she'll be tasked with trying to sell/expand upon one of her most boring fights ever?

5- I wonder who is more broken in theory between Holm and Pennington. Rocky looked to be on the verge of going from solid WMMA fighter to a damn good top 5-ish woman at 135 lbs after dominating Meisha Tate but she broke her leg, took a lot of time off, followed that up with a dud vs Amanda Nunes and then got stalled out by Germaine de Randamie. She rebounded with a win over Irene Aldana which almost felt more about Aldana being a putz and less about any sort of sign of a rebound for Rocky. It's worth remembering that the fight vs Holm was the one that got sort of signified that Rocky was better than people realized but it required her to pressure for fifteen minutes and that's sort of gone away for her recently. As for Holm? She's fought Rousey, Cyborg, Tate, Shevchenko and Nunes. She's pushing 40. She had an extensive boxing history that suggests she's taken plenty of damage. She just got KO'd for the first time in her UFC run the last time out and at this point it's fair to ask if Holm's durability is going to be shot. This fight is why Aspen Ladd figuring shit out is really important for this division.

6- Maurice Green and Alexey Olenik being on this main card is curious until you realize that this main card has two WMMA fights and a fight at lightweight on it. Sometimes beef gets called in to "bulk" up the main card.

7- Anthony Pettis sure picked a fine week to announce a UFC lawsuit, am I right?

8- Let's talk about how great these prelims are for a second. Sodiq Yusuff vs Andre Fili is a battle of exciting prospect and proven veteran with a multitude of ways to win. Nasrat Haqparast vs Drew Dober is a battle of exciting prospect vs proven veteran with a multitude of ways to win. Maycee Barber vs Roxanne Modafferi almost feels like the potential crowning of Maycee as a 125 lb contender by taking on a former title contender who STYLISTICALLY will at least give us a reason to double check her ability to do things such as defend takedowns and deal with pressure. Lastly I REALLY do love this fight between Chas Skelly and Grant Dawson as Dawson has slowly gone from somewhat awkward wrestling savant to a more well rounded pressure fighter while Chas Skelly is one of those ultimate gatekeeper types for young fighters. These are all great fights worthy of going out of your way to see on ESPN.

9- We're four years now into the Alexa Grasso project and I still don't know if she has the fight smarts to ever take the next step in her career. A good test vs a declining Claudia Gadelha who still has something to offer.

10- How much ya wanna bet Maurice Green allows Olenik to pull him down on top of him?

11- Justin Ledet's run at 205 lbs has been weird as his lack of athleticism for the weight class plus what feels like an odd lack of strength (How he was burly enough to fight at HW but gets chucked around at 205 lbs is a mystery to me) has made him go 0-2 in the division. After a lengthy lay off, he's back at 205 lbs against Aleksa Camur. Camus is a training partner of Stipe Miocic and he got in here off the Contenders Series where he had a crazy fight that exposed him to be a) wacky as all hell and b) a bit too raw for my liking in the UFC. This feels pretty winnable for Spirit of Truth lookalike Ledet.

12- Ode Osbourne vs Brian Kelleher is an early FOTY candidate to me.

#MMA #UFC #McGregor #Cerrone #Pettis #CDF #Holm #Pennington #Prospects

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nxjusticehere · 5 years

Text

Escape the Motherloving Nightmare - Part 5

Tag list: @undocumented-terriaki @risiskifi @virge-of-death @i-do-stuff-sometimes-notreally @shay-untitled @uraeus56 @supersepticsteph @margarita-is-the-answer @derisiveharridan @brookeisanerd @reeeeeaaper @aquilacalvitium @squishy-anon

Silence reigns as they approach the great granite doorway stood in the middle of a clearing on the far edge of town. It’s attached to no building, but they’ve all learned by now that that means nothing. There’s a large stone stood to either side of the doorway, the outer sides each sporting four colored buttons.

The premise is simple. Two of them, selected by vote, will remain behind, keeping the door open by sharing and inputting the color codes that light up on the opposite stone. So long as they enter the correct codes in time, the doors will remain open. Meanwhile, the rest of the group will pass through the doorway to retrieve the artefact from the Demon’s Keep. For every mistake made, a gong will sound and the door will begin to close. Once the doors shut they will not be opening again.

“Wait,” Shane is more than a little concerned as he unconsciously steps back, “Are you saying there’s a chance we could basically all die in this?”

“You say that like you’re surprised.” Lucas, the Madman, is bringing up the rear, wearing the same look of disinterest that he’s worn for every task that has lead them here.

This vote isn’t like the others. They’re not voting for someone to die, they’re voting for who is going to keep the rest of them alive. Even so it’s not easy to keep the underlying angers, grudges, and annoyance from their minds as they each cast their vote.

The Savant is the first to be drawn, definitely uneasy and not sure whether to feel relieved that he has no chance of dying, or afraid that he has so many lives resting in his hands.

No one is surprised as Calliope raises the Madman’s card, a perfect recreation of Lucas’s face, right down to the aggravated black lines across his skin. Everyone, save for his brother is honestly a little afraid of him. Why is he in this game? How can he care so little about the consequences? You’d be hard pressed to find someone who would find it a shame were he to die.

Dirk stares at his brother, trying to get a read on him, but there’s nothing but stoic annoyance on the idiot’s face. It takes quite a shove from Ro to finally get Dirk’s attention, the Jet-Setter raising her eyebrows and very not-subtley inclining her head at Lucas.

The two of them had had a brief talk earlier, away from the rest of the group. A quiet discussion in which she heavily implied that Lucas is not being entirely truthful about something and maybe Dirk should try and get it out of him. No doubt she thinks this might be the perfect opportunity for the two of them to talk.

“Wait,” The Detective steps forward, a hand raised, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “I volunteer to take Joey’s place.”

“You can’t do that.” Liza says sternly, honestly just wanting to go through that door and back again. The sooner this starts, the sooner it will be over.

“I don’t mind!” Joey interjects, and everyone turns to Calliope.

She glances between them all, pausing before saying, “If everyone agrees.”

Before the group has a chance to devolve into chaotic arguments that just waste time they probably don’t have, Dirk raises his hands and speaks firmly and confidently.

“Has anyone heard of the single-soul theory?”

The general confusion would suggest the answer is probably no, though Safiya gets a curious look on her face. Not surprising; of the group, she’s the one Dirk would expect to have at least heard of it. But the only response he’s watching for is his brother’s

You can practically hear the cogs turn as the unspoken message is received and Lucas shrugs.

“I say we let him do it.”

The twins each step up to one of the stones, able to see over them to the other side while the group stands in nervous anticipation between them. Nobody trusts the apparent simplicity of this task, there’s probably something very sinister at work here but there’s no time to dwell.

“Blue, red, green, green.” Lucas calls out the first code and Dirk punches it in on his stone.

The doors swing wide, neither of the twins able to see through it from their standpoint, only able to watch as the group walks through.

“Green, blue, yellow, red.” Dirk calls back.

Time passes, both of them losing track of it as they continue to put in the codes. The air between them is tense and awkward but they’re used to it by now.

Lucas is the one to break the silence.

“I didn’t think you believed in the single-soul theory.”

A widely speculated but mostly unsubstantiated theory that twins are born as a single soul shared between two bodies. As they grow, they become more individual while managing to maintain a mental and spiritual closeness that is unobserved in the rest of the population.

“Neither of us has said a single color in the last five minutes,” Dirk points out, “yet we haven’t missed a code.”

He would hardly call himself a believer of the theory, but he’s more of a skeptic than a naysayer. Maybe when they were younger, when they did everything together, and people struggled to tell them apart, he would have believed it but when they were about twelve years old, something changed. Dirk had assumed it was something to do with puberty, or maybe there was something in their environment, but Lucas started to push him away. He started to push everyone away no matter how hard they tried to reach him, and after what happened at Drew Studios, everything just fell to Heck.

Reaching across he presses the yellow button, then green, then the blue twice, his hand guided by instinct. After a moment, his lights blink out a new sequence; the code was correct. Yeah, there’s definitely something here.

“Why did you really volunteer?” Lucas asks as he puts in the next code, unprompted.

“Ro said you keep getting this look,”

“What look?”

“Like you’re hiding something.”

“Ah. So you want to keep an eye on me.”

Dirk glances up at his brother. Lucas is skinny, clearly unwell, his hair’s all over the place and even beyond that he has an air of scruffiness about him. Though the guy has been AWOL for the last few years, and Dirk won’t even pretend to know what happened to him, he can see that Ro was right. There’s just….something this guy isn’t saying.

“What I want is to help you.”

The laugh Lucas gives is hollow and almost makes Dirk want to punch him. “I’m beyond your help, little brother.”

Dirk scowls. “You’re the little brother.”

A shriek beyond the door, snaps both their attention to it.

“Was that-?”

“Dirk, what’s the code?”

Whatever link they may have had before is broken, the Madman staring blankly at the lights, blindly reaching for the instinct that had been driving him before, but grasping at nothing. His anxiety quickly spikes. Dirk is distracted, oblivious, staring at the door.

“Dirk!” Lucas snaps, finally getting his brother’s attention long enough to look at the code.

“Yellow, red, bl-” he starts.

A high-pitched scream sounds from beyond and that’s it. The Detective slams his hand on top of the stone, easily vaulting it in one leap and rushing for the door. As he passes just through the arch, a loud gong sounds. They’ve missed a code.

He skids to a stop as the doors slightly close in on him, just barely past the arch, hearing Lucas shouting obscenities but it’s too late at this point, the only thing they can do is make sure the others make it through the door in time.

Beyond the door is an empty grey hallway that turns off a short way down the path, filled with a foul stench that the Detective would rather not identify, though it’s strong enough to topple an army. If he were to guess, this hallway is near the heart of the Demon’s Keep and the group can’t be that far away.

Dirk cups his hands round his mouth and shouts, his voice bouncing off the walls. Within less than a minute, Safiya, Alex, and Liza speed into view, all of them passing Dirk without a second thought as he continues to call out. Shane isn’t far behind, carrying the artefact, only stopping for a second as Dirk grabs a hold of his arm.

“Where’s Ro?”

“I don’t know,” Shane gasps, not really comfortable being stopped so close to being on the good side of the door, “She was with Joey.” With that the Renegade pulls out his grip and runs through the door.

Another gong sound and the doors close a little more again. There’s just barely enough room for a person to pass through at this point, and after the next one, the doors will close.

That’s all the motivation he needs, ready to dash forward and carry the others back to the door if he has to. Before he can even take a step, firm and desperate fingers grasp tightly to the Detective’s wrist, holding fast and not allowing him to move even slightly.

Lucas, having slid through the small gap in the doors has a tight hold of his brother and tries to drag him back through. There’s no reason for all of them to die.

“Let me go!” The Detective rages, twisting and turning in an attempt to break free. He’s sick of all this death. Is it too much to want to finish one game with every single person still breathing? Is that such a crime! Is that such a bad thing! But Lucas is nothing if not stubborn, holding tight and refusing to let go. Of course it’s beyond his understanding. Why would a murderer understand!

‘What happened to murderer?’

Dirk’s struggle stumbles as he realises what he’s just thought, unintentionally proving his brother’s distrust of him right. Lucas takes full advantage of it, bending to throw the Detective over his shoulder and just barely managing to squeeze them both through the barely open doorway, just as the final gong sounds. The doors thud shut behind them.

Everyone is gasping as Dirk is thrown to the floor, each of them shaking with adrenaline and fear, none of them okay with what they’ve just lived through.

“I’m sorry.” They all jump, having forgotten Calliope was still there, turning to her with looks of utter heartbreak. “The Jet-Setter did not make it.”

Joey steps from beside the door, clearly shaken and afraid. He must have slipped by while the brothers were fighting.

Dirk’s movements are slow as he pushes himself to stand again, chest awash with a hateful mix of confusion and anger. She didn’t deserve this! She didn’t deserve to be left behind! If Lucas would have just-

A loud -SMACK- splits the air as the Madman’s hand slaps the Detective across the face. A hand raised to his reddened cheek, Dirk stares in shock as his brother begins to scream at him.

“I needed the fucking code!” the pure rage pushes everyone but Dirk away. “And why did you run in-”

Words devolve into heavy coughing, Lucas seemingly choking on his own anger as he screams, only the words aren’t continuing and the coughing only gets worse.

A hand against Dirk’s chest shoves him back as the Madman bends double practically hacking his lungs inside out while he attempts to drag any amount of breathable air into them.

When he straightens up, his right eye is almost completely black, while the veins that litter his already too pale skin have stretched even further across it.

Everyone stares, none of them sure of how to process whatever it is they’ve just witnessed. As Lucas looks over them all, they step back, a predatory look in his eyes and a shiver running down their backs. Only the Detective stands firm, meeting his brother’s stern glare with his own look of determination.

“We should leave.” Lucas growls, a strange and honestly terrifying gutteral tone to his voice that none of them have heard before. With a scowl, the Madman steps forward, around his brother, striding angrily towards the others who part before him like the red sea.

Once he’s gone, the strange oppressive feeling they hadn’t noticed in the last few minutes is suddenly gone and they all share worried looks.

“Is it just me or does anyone else not feel safe around that guy?” Joey asks.

#madpat #dirk patrick #escape the night #escape the motherloving nightmare #fanfic #protection verse #egos au

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pastthevaulteddoors · 5 years

Text

Tattoo

This is not edited, yet. Will edit before it goes into AO3 if you want to read the proper thing. For pridecember2018

Takes place a year after Gifting Stars. Don’t have to read it, I’ll probably repeat events in the chapters as we go.

Not every entry of pricecember of mine will be prideship centric (there will be peach and polarshipping) as I’m making each prompt into a chapter of a fic, but as a whole, it will be a prideshipping.

Winging it. Wish me luck!

Story under cut.

Apart from the fact that the world was delightfully tilted, Atem couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun with his friends. Joey, Yugi, Tristen, Duke, and himself had decided to get pre-bachelor partying in while they could. Although the wedding was a few weeks away, it didn't mean they couldn't celebrate the end of an era.

And the beginning of a new one.

"Dude, I can't believe you'll be the first of us," Joey swayed, his boots slapping on the ground, not even noticing the puddle he was walking through. "I mean, you've always been a good guy an' all, but I always thought Tristen would be the first of us to get hitched."

The man in question groaned, not enjoying his pre-holiday buzz like the others. He paused to hug a lamppost and stare, fascinated, at the reflection of the city lights in the wet concrete. "No way, man. Dad's been pressuring me to settle down, but all the girls he wants me to date are all daughters of his business associates."

The group paused in their walk, waiting for each other to regain their footing. It was nighttime in Domino, cold and wet from rain earlier that day. The buildings were decked out in holiday cheer but no snow had found it's way to the ground. Duke chuckled and leaned against Tristen, rather unsure why he was laughing. "Aw, but who wouldn't want to marry a cute face like that." He reached out, laughing still, and squished Tristen's cheeks with his hands.

Tristen groaned in defeat and sagged further against the lamppost, nearly tearing the garland from it. "Hey, shtop picking on me. Pick on someone else that can fight back. Ishn't that the duelists code or somethin'?"

Joey snickered and pointed to Atem. The former pharaoh was certain he was holding onto a strong stance, legs apart and hips cantered forward. At least, he hoped he looked confident, although he might have been swaying with the ground...

"What about you, buddy?" Joey swayed up to Atem and flung an arm around Atem's shoulder. This time, Atem was more than sure they were not properly upright and he had to lean against the building behind him.

"What about me, Joey?" Atem offered what confident smirk he could.

"You and Kaiba, when you tyin' the knot?" he sniggered against Atem's neck, the scent of their night's alcohol was quite evident.

Atem crossed his arms and closed his eyes, turning his head away from his friend. "When I'm ready." It wasn't a no, but he and Kaiba had an agreement. Kaiba was a passionate man, and was ready to give his shareholder's the middle finger by presenting a man in as his significant other. However, it would not be an easy marriage where business was concerned, but Kaiba was prepared to take the heat regardless.

Atem, however, was the one with the cold feet. In fact, it was about a year ago that they agreed it was in Atem's hands. "I quite enjoy my freedom," he concluded to Joey.

Joey laughed, in fact, his other friends did, too. "Yeah right," Joey chimed in. "The Kaiba brothers practically live at our place."

Which was true. Joey, Yugi, and Atem were well known in the duelists world, and were basically rock stars in their own right. They had gotten a penthouse together some time ago and it was a great to remain together after high school. However, things were changing, moving... they were all aware of the open hole that was Yugi. Atem looked over to his friend, who was happily swaying and looking off at the neon lights of the shops of the street.

Yugi and Tea.

Together.

Yugi was moving out and, despite how often Seto was there, Atem felt there was be time of loneliness for all of them as their friends married and moved on, leaving the Penthouse of Dorkatude (as Kaiba coined it) with an emptiness that could never be filled.

"Hey guys!" chimed the man of the hour. Yugi, of all of them, appeared the least intoxicated despite taking twice as many shots as Duke. "Look!"

Blurry eyes focused on the signed of one of the few places still opened this late at night. A tattoo parlor.

All five boys looked to the sign and the elaborate art displayed in the window.

"Yeah, what about it?" Duke asked, rubbing the back of his neck, betraying his hesitancy.

"I want one. To commemorate our time together, and that we'll always be together regardless of where our futures take us," Yugi proclaimed, his sweetness mixed with a boldness... and perhaps a bit of the booze was helping his confidence in his declaration. "Even if Tea and I move on as a married duo, we'll always be friends; all of us."

There was a moment of silence as the others looked on at their petite friend and then the tattoo parlor. Then, Tristen began to snicker quietly behind his hand.

Then he laughed.

Duke joined his giggles before shortly they were both laughing loudly, voices echoed off the narrow streetway between shops. Joey began to chuckle as well, until even Atem and Yugi were laughing up a storm.

Because, yes, they would always be together regardless of the circumstance, and as they all grew in their own direction. But, no... no one wanted a damn tattoo. They must really be intoxicated.

"Reminded me of our marker tattoo that Tea drew on our hands," Joey cackled merrily as the five of them pushed off lampposts and walls to continue the wavy walk home. "Took me a week to get that marker off."

"Come on guys, lets go home," Yugi agreed, grinning ear to ear. He really was the happiest of grooms. "Maybe Kaiba left behind that curry that we could eat."

"Ew, day old curry is gross."

“Tristen, since when did you say no to free food?" Duke teased. "Besides, isn't Kaiba still overseas?" He looked to Atem for confirmation.

As if he was Kaiba's keeper.

Which, with the curt nod, proved he was. "There was a security breech so he had to extend his stay in the states another few days."

"He bettah get home soon. No offense, but even the girls can't cook curry like Kaiba's."

"Not as good a Bakura's."

"Ah yeah, but ain't he in the middle of finals or somethin'?"

"Yeah, but he said he'll be in town for the wedding," Yugi answered, humming happily as he meandered down the sidewalk. "Just think, Tea and I are finally going to be husband and wife."

Joey snickered. "I think he has hearts in his eyes."

The boys' laughter echoed into the night.

#pridecember2018 #what am i signing up for?#already two days behind #ugh #why?!?!?#ygopridecember2018

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cyberflows-art · 6 years

Text

Shoulder Devil

Oof! This sure took me a while! Not really because it’s long (although it kind of is, whoops!), but because I have terrible time management skills XD

I always plan what I’m going to say for this little introductions and then completely forget what I was supposed to say...

Well, this is my fic for the Joey Drew Studios AU at @ask-joeydrewstudios! I knew for quite some time that I wanted to do something for this AU because the characters are very well developed and consistent, the art is fantastic and it’s always a good time whenever I receive a notification telling me there’s a new post! I could spend a looong time telling you why I love this AU so much, but instead I’m just going to recommend checking it out! I wan’t sure whether to draw something, or write something, soooo I did both! Oh! I’m also going to put it over on AO3 and ffnet if that’s more your thing!

I really hope you like it!

Cough Don’t use or repost my drawing without my permission, please! Cough

It had been a very productive Friday in the studio. Most of the animators had managed to get ahead on their work, the voice actors had very smooth recording sessions and Joey found himself praising a lot of people when he checked on them. The ink spills where almost null, the projectors all in outstanding condition, the pipes hadn’t emitted any creaking noises or given any signs of damage. The toy department had just finished some new concepts for a limited edition line of toys that could boost their income quiet a bit. The studio was reveling in a contented mood, and the employees certainly appreciated the relaxed work environment, so different to the usual stress of having to meet an approaching deadline. But that productivity came at a price.

A price called Sammy Lawrence.

Due to the presence of a certain prank loving toon, people who worked at Joey Drew Studios knew to have spare clothing at hand, even more so if you worked in the Music Department. But that usually meant just an extra shirt for the week. This day? Sammy had already had to change his shirt twice before lunch break. The first time was due to a bucket of ink being dumped on his head; the second because Henry just so happened to be passing through the same hallway as him with a bowl of (thankfully not boiling) soup, and Bendy just so happened to run by them and “accidentally” push Henry. The entirety of the contents of the bowl, of course, ended covering Sammy. From that point on, the positivity in the air was slain by Sammy’s irate aura and the employees instinctively stepped aside whenever he walked by. And now that he had finally been able to eat something and calm himself a little, he sat at his desk and grabbed a pen only to discover half of his stuff was coated in honey. He groaned in exasperation and cursed the substance while trying to detach the pen from his fingers.

Sammy didn’t know why the little brat suddenly decided to focus all of his attention on him, (this considering the music director was a favorite target), but he knew it needed to stop that instant. In fact, it should have stopped days ago. Since wednesday, Bendy had been making his working hours a living hell. It ranged from hiding random ingredients in his food, to messing with the lyrics in his incomplete songs, to hiding every single one his goddamn cigarettes in a different location each. The only reason he had managed to not fall behind was that he locked all of his important documents and work in the upper right drawer of his desk. He bet that the little devil would have turned them all into paper airplanes if he didn’t.

Grumbling, he stood up once again and started walking towards the nearest bathroom to wash his hands. Of course, it would be his luck that said bathroom was the one in the worst condition in the whole studio. The door, specifically, was a bother to open since there wasn’t enough space between it and the floor, making it drag noisily; not to mention the rusty hinges and knob people had tired of reminding Wally to oil. Maybe the fact that it was the bathroom closest to the music department had something to do with that. Sammy wouldn’t put it past the janitor to be petty like that. He would normally go the extra mile to go to a decent bathroom, but he had wasted enough time as it was, so he resigned himself and stepped in, careful not to close the damaged door all the way.

He got as far as rubbing the soap on his hands before the water stopped flowing from the tap. Frowning, Sammy tried opening and closing it, but quickly lost his patience and tried the other two. Nothing. Anger rapidly increasing, Sammy took a moment to count to ten, planning to calmly go to the bathroom in the floor above. But while he focused on counting, he failed to notice the rattling of the pipes in front of him. 5… 6… 7… 8… 9… The sudden loud creaking finally caught his attention and alarms rang in his head when he saw all three sinks slightly shaking. He managed but one hasty step towards the door before the three taps were sent flying and three forceful water streams drenched him from head to toe. Sammy instinctively covered his face, desperately trying to maintain enough visibility to walk the short distance to the door. Unfortunately, with all the chaos he wasn’t able to notice the bar of soap that had landed on the floor, and thus couldn’t prevent stepping on it. He yelped when he felt himself tripping forward, barely being able to slam against the door with his shoulder rather than with his face.

A dull pain spread through his upper arm but nothing too serious. Sammy rubbed at it and stood up, his mind trying to process what had just happened. If he had had a moment to collect himself, rage and annoyance would have probably consumed him, but he heard something above the sound of the flowing water. Laughter. Really loud laughter. The door of the stall closest to the wall slowly swung open and hanging from the inside was the little devil himself. He obviously couldn’t hang there for much longer, shaking with laughter as he was, so he jumped to the only corner of the floor untouched by the water to continue from there.

“WOW, Sammy! I thought I had something great by breaking the sinks, but you made it even better with that soap bit!!!” he managed to say through his giggles. “You sure you don’t wanna be a toon? You’d make a great target for gags!”.

Sammy remained silent. He remained silent and looked at the mess around him, one of his eyes twitching. He remained silent because even if he was normally able to yell at Bendy for his pranks, he couldn’t believe the absolute stupidity of the whole situation. He remained silent because even if he would usually call the demon a little shit, he still had to remember he was a kid and at the moment he didn’t trust himself to not say something he could regret later. And the absolute least he needed that day was for Joey to visit him to berate him on his conduct. So he bit back the venom that threatened to escape from his mouth and limited himself to glaring at the demon as harshly as he could. Bendy’s laughter did wither under the look that Sammy was giving him (and the lack of an explosive reaction), but he kept a defiant attitude by crossing his arms and returning the stare with a smile. This only further irritated the music director, so he turned around to open the door, not wanting to see the smug brat’s little face anymore. He wasn’t used to repressing his anger, and since he was absolutely furious, he needed an outlet fast. Except… the doorknob wasn’t working. In fact, it felt pretty loose, probably detached from whatever internal mechanism was inside the door. He struggled with it, as if he could force it to work just by violently moving it, but he ended loosening it it to the point it came off. Sammy glared at it for a second before flinging it against the wall. He heard snorting behind him.

“What?” came Bendy’s voice. “Can’t even open a dooooor, Sammy?”

He then started blabbering about how Sammy needed to start lifting weights and eating more vitamins. Sammy sighed in frustration and turned towards Bendy to yell at him to undo whatever he did to the door so he could go tell Joey to ground the demon for the rest of eternity. He froze, however, when he saw the floor of the room. The flow of the water had considerably diminished, but it was still consistently adding more liquid to the floorboards. The growing puddle was silently creeping in Bendy’s direction, but the demon couldn’t be bothered to notice. For a split second, he toyed with the idea of just watching him notice and freak out about his crucial mistake. But a pang of guilt immediately hit him, knowing well that it would be the equivalent of letting a fire get close to a human. He was furious, but not even he was that cruel. Sighing, he sacrificed the one spot on his clothes that had been spared from the water attack to dry his hands. He crossed the distance between them, tuning out Bendy’s incessant rambling, and lift him up before the puddle could reach his shoes. Three seconds later, there wasn’t a dry spot on the floor.

“Hey!” Bendy exclaimed. “Put me down!! I don’t like bein’ carried around, ya hear me?! Let go!”

He then proceeded to poke Sammy’s head with his tail and trying to wiggle out of his hold. Sammy tightened his grip, afraid he might actually drop him and then held the demon to arms length in a way that wouldn’t allow Bendy enough movement to bite him (which he was known for).

“Okay, you little brat. You are going to look down for a single second and then I dare you to say that again to my face,” Sammy deadpanned.

“What, you think I wouldn’t?” Bendy crossed his arms. “Fine! I’ll look down and then I’ll tell you to your face to put me- Oh...”

“‘Oh’ is right.” Sammy glared at him as he stopped struggling to fall to his demise. “Now, if you could stop throwing a tantrum and fix the freaking door so we both can get the hell out of here, that would be great, wouldn’t it?”

“What?! I didn’t do anything to the door!!!”

“Oh, yeah? Then why won’t it open? Can you really not stop playing dumb even when you turned the floor into something you can’t so much as touch without melting?!” Sammy made him face the door, hoping that he would pull out a tool or something that would let them get out,

“Ugh! I told ya, I didn’t break the door! You’re the one that slammed his ugly face against it! Maybe that’s why it broke, huh?”

Bendy stuck his tounge at him and looked away with a huff.

“So what? We’re just trapped here now?!” Sammy looked at the demon incredulously. “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted? Well, congratulations! I bet Joey will give you a trophy!”

Bendy scowled at him, but quickly looked away under Sammy’s scolding stare and resigned himself to pout in silence. This was doing nothing for Sammy’s mood. Now there was no way he wasn’t going to fall behind in his work. Besides, the water was already up to his ankles and the cold from being soaked was starting to get to him. His arms were also getting tired.

“Why am I even carrying you still?” he said more to himself. The little guy didn’t really deserved the effort after landing them in the situation they were in. He walked towards the stalls, hoping that he could set him down.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Bendy asked once he felt they were moving.

“I’m getting tired so I decided you are going to stand on one of the toilets,” he said matter of factly.

“WHAT? But… but toilets are filled with water!”

If Sammy didn’t fear he would drop him he would have smacked his own forehead with his hand.

“I’m not putting you inside the toilet, you moron! You’re gonna stand on top of the lid.”

“Ew! No way! Joey told me what goes in there and I’m NOT touching those things.” Bendy scrunched his face up in disgust and clung to Sammy’s hands, refusing to be put down. “And the water is rising so fast! What if it reached me if I was standing there? Oh no! What if it goes all the way up to the roof? What if nobody saves us?!”

Sammy rolled his eyes at the toon’s exaggeration. This wasn’t a worrying predicament, only an infuriatingly annoying one. At this point, he would even accept if Joey offered to teleport them out of there.

“Calm down, we are not going to drown,” Sammy told him. “The door isn’t fused to the floor. There’s gotta be some water leaking, and the moment somebody notices they’re going to-”

“WHAT THE HELL?”

Wally’s voice reached them right on cue. Bendy’s face lit up in an instant.

“Wally! Wally, we’re trapped! You gotta save us!” He yelled.

“Bendy? What-? How-? Oh, shoot! Are you ok? You aren’t like… half melted or something right?” Wally’s voice became a bit panicked with the possible implications of what he could find on the other side of the door. They could hear him frantically turning the useless knob.

“Thanks for the mental image, Franks…”

“Wait… Sammy?! How many people are in there?!”

“Oh no, just the two of us!” Bendy exclaimed happily, as if he hadn’t been freaking out just a few moments prior. “I’m using him as my personal island!”

“Uh, yeah, you keep doing that buddy…” Wally said. “How did this even happen?”

“Sammy broke the door!” Bendy immediately answered.

“Excuse me?! You’re the genius that thought exploding the sinks was a good idea!”

“He WHAT?” Sammy could tell by the distress in Wally’s voice that he knew who would have to deal with the mess. He would have found it amusing if his shoes weren’t completely submerged.

“Franks, my clothes are soaked and I am locked in here with a three foot tall nightmare incarnated. How about you get us out, and then you play detective?”

Sammy didn’t doubt the silence that followed was Wally trying to come up with a good comeback to not just accept an order from the music director, but in the end he had to acept this wasn’t a good time for that.

“Fine, fine,” he finally said. “You might want to step away from the door! I’ll get you out in a second!”

The door creaked when Wally pushed forcefully against it, but with no results, A groan of frustration was heard before repeated pounding against the wood, which the trapped pair could only guess was Wally either tackling the door or trying to kick it down. Bendy started cheering him on. After the fifth hit, one of the rusty screws of the upper hinge was sent flying while the other hinge got crooked and Sammy swore one of its sides got lodged into the wood frame. From that point on, nothing else even budged.

“... Maybe I won’t get you out in a second…”

“Wow, it’s almost like it’s important to do your job maintaining the building, huh?” Sammy said bitterly.

“Agh, shut up. Look, there’s an axe somewhere in the studio. Joey told me where it was, but I uh, kinda forgot where it is… I gotta go ask him.” Silence. ”Dammit. He’s not going to like this…”

“I would prefer it if you cut the water first. It’s almost up to my knees already.”

“Uh, right, right. First things first, and all that.”

“Hurry up, Wally! I don’t think Sammy has the strength to carry me for much longer!” Bendy called.

“Wha-? You little-!”

“Try not to shove Bendy into the water while I’m gone Sammy!”

Wally’s voice faded along with his hurried steps. Sammy’s shoulders sagged. Great. More waiting. He guessed he could try doing something productive. Maybe see if he could loosen the hinges. Oh wait! He couldn’t. He was carrying some dead weight. And as much as he hated to admit it, said dead weight was indeed putting a strain on his arms. He let himself lower them just a bit to get his blood circulating better, hoping that the demon wouldn’t notice. With his luck that week, of course he did.

“Uh, you did hear what Wally just told ya, right?” Bendy said glancing down and lifting his feet.

“Oh, sorry! It must be that I’m not strong enough to carry you. I could just drop you any minute now.”

Bendy pouted up at him. Sammy retaliated with a glare, but found that just looking at the demon reminded him of the terrible week he had had. He decided that he had enough of the staring contest soon after and looked around for, well, literally anything else he could do. He spotted the towel that was placed for people to dry their hands, which had miraculously been spared of the shower, and he got an idea for a solution for the tiredness of his arms. He crossed the room towards it and held Bendy in front of it.

“Grab it.”

“Huh?” Bendy gave him a confused look.

“Grab the towel.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Sammy lifted Bendy up so that they were looking eye to eye. “I despise carrying you as much as you despise being carried. So you are gonna take that towel, put it on my shoulder and sit there until we get out of here.”

“Why don’t you grab the towel if it’s your idea?” Bendy’s cocky demeanor started chipping away at Sammy’s last bit of patience, and he was desperately trying to remind himself he was supposed to be the adult. “Why do I gotta do all the work here, huh? How lazy of you! Are you sure you’re fit to be the director of anything?”

“Ok, that’s ENOUGH! Why are you being such a prick?! This whole situation was YOUR fault! Least you could do is cooperate with something as easy as this!”

Bendy flinched at the louder tone of voice, but he wasn’t deterred.

“‘Why are you being such a prick?’” he imitated in a high pitched voice, using his hand to simulate a mouth. However, he did grab the towel and threw it on Sammy’s shoulder, hitting him on the face (not so accidentally) during the fact. Making sure it was placed well enough that his wet shirt wouldn’t come in contact with the little toon, Sammy let him climb on his shoulder and he finally could put his darned arms down. His relief was short lived, though. Now he had a whining demon right besides his ear.

“That’s it,” he said not even paying attention to whatever Bendy was saying. “I’m quitting the moment we get out of this stupid bathroom…”

“Yeah? Well maybe you should,” Bendy suddenly muttered with a scowl. If he hadn’t been so close, Sammy may not have heard it. “That way you wouldn’t break Boris’ stuff.”

Sammy startled so forcefully he had to quickly hold Bendy in place so he wouldn’t fall.

“Break Boris’- What are you even talking about?” he asked frowning.

“Oh, just admit it!” Bendy turned so he was sitting sideways and could look at Sammy better, He poked his face in an accusing manner. “You broke Boris’ favorite banjo! You know how long he had been practicing a new song to show Joey? Like a month! You even know how long a month is? He had even prepared a mini stage in our apartment, and I was gonna do an opening act and Alice was going to be there too!” Bendy threw his arms in the air as if he could convey the grandiosity of their planned little show by waving them around. “It was going to be great, but then you went and ruined our good time! Boris has been so bummed out since Tuesday he won’t even play with me!”

Sammy was taken aback. Not only could he already feel the headache coming from all the yelling in his ear, but he also realized a very important thing. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Is that really why you have been insufferable all week? Because you think I’m the one who did that?”

“I know you did it! Joey said you are the one responsible of all music stuff, so obviously it had to be your fault! If you are innocent, why don’t ya prove it, huh? Oh right, because you can’t! You’re guilty!”

Sammy gave a big sigh, wondering if he was about to waste his breath.

“Tuesday? You mean this tuesday? The same tuesday I had to leave early?” He narrowed his eyes at Bendy and saw the devil’s confidence falter. “You know what happens on tuesdays? There’s a weekly maintenance of all the instruments. You know what else happens on tuesdays? The imbeciles that conduct those checkups often stay and organize a mini ‘act like an idiot’ party after the oh so hard work that task represents for them, even when repeatedly told not to. So more than likely, it was one of them that broke that banjo, and more than likely, if I find out who did it and made these days hell for me because of it, I’m gonna move heaven and earth to make Joey fire them! So there! I hope you are proud, because not only did you waste my time making me clean after your little ‘revenge pranks’ for hours and then make me lose hours of sleep to catch up on work, you also wasted your own time doing something completely worthless. I don’t think you even wanted to put the effort to find out who it was. I bet you just wanted it to be me, because for some goddamn reason you just want to make me quit. So congratulations! You might have just succeeded this time!”

Sammy took a deep breath once his rant was over and noticed at last how Bendy had gone really quite. He wasn’t looking at him and had his head hung low.

“So you really didn’t do it?” came Bendy’s meager question.

Sammy didn’t even dignify that with the obvious response. Instead, he focused on how the water flow from the sinks weakened until stopping altogether, Took Franks long enough. The silence that followed was tense, but Sammy greatly preferred it to having to deal with more tantrums from the toon on his shoulder. Sighing, he moved to the center of the room and settled for impatiently staring impatiently at the door. A chill went up Sammy’s spine, and he cursed his body’s inability to maintain a decent temperature. He would normally find it annoying, but with all that had happened and his head starting to pound, he had ran out of steam. He shifted his weight uncomfortably in place, his feet already feeling numb in his shoes. If he got sick and Joey didn’t give him some kind of compensation, he would make sure he never heard the end of it. Fortunately, he wasn’t needed the next day. Well, he was always needed since his department was filled with idiots, but they could usually handle by themselves whatever there was to do on the weekends, so he’d be able to rest until monday.

“Soooo,” Bendy’s voice broke the silence. It had been nice while it lasted. “Whatcha, uh, whatcha thinking about, Sammy?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering whether it’s worth it to write a formal resignation letter or just use the honey on my desk to paste a piece of paper that says ‘I quit’ to Joey’s office door.”

“O-oh…”

Bendy fidgeted in his place, refusing to look at him.

“W-well. You can’t do none of those!”

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

“Really now? And whose stopping me? Because it’s certainly not you.

“Because, uh, because…” Bendy frowned in concentration, before he snapped his fingers. “Because Boris would miss ya! Yeah! You wouldn’t make Boris sad on purpose, would ya?

Wait. Did Bendy actually think he was going to quit? Sammy threatened to quit almost daily. One would think that Bendy would know better. Nonetheless, Sammy decided to play along.

“Boris would miss anyone that worked here even if they had never talked with him. Maybe if I quit the experience will help him to get over it if it happens again, huh?”

Sammy was aware that sounded harsher than he meant it. Boris was one of the few people in the studio that he didn’t feel like yelling at all the time. But he couldn’t help but smirk when his answer had the desired effect. Bendy was trying to come up with another reason of why he shouldn’t quit. Was it immature of him? Absolutely! But he was standing in a flooded bathroom, clothes soaked, a literal little demon on his shoulder and no cigarettes at all. He figured he deserved to have some petty revenge.

“Uh, A-alice, then! Don’t you think it would be bad luck to upset an angel?”

“I already have to deal with a demon on a daily basis. I don’t think I have the luck of any angels on my side. Besides, I think it would only actually affect her if it was Susie who quit instead of me.”

“Wait, that’s it!” Bendy’s tail briefly formed the outline of a lightbulb. “Susie! You can’t leave her here all alone! That would make you the worst boyfriend in the world!”

Sammy huffed.

“We only spend time together on our break time, which we can still do even if I worked elsewhere.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Actually, she also does some extra work in some other places. Maybe she can recommend me to a boss that doesn’t practice black magic as a hobby.”

“Shoot,” Bendy said under his breath. “But- But you can’t leave because you are already Joey’s favorite director! What if you are not the favorite of your new boss, huh? Maybe he’ll hate you!”

“Oh? So I’m Joey’s favorite now?” Sammy asked in an intentionally bored but fake tone, crossing his arms.

“Yeah! He said that, ah, that you were the best music director in the history of forever! That you were better than Boteevan!”

“Beethoven.”

“That guy! And he said that, um, that he was considering giving you a raise! It’ll be such a raise that you will be on the top floor of the studio!”

Sammy… wasn’t sure Bendy understood what a raise was. But he shook it off.

“So, those were Joey’s exact words?”

Bendy nodded enthusiastically, his usual smile a bit strained and his cartoony eyes unable to hide the alarm he was feeling.

“So, if I were to go to Joey and ask him about it, he would tell me the exact same thing?”

Silence.

“...Yes… Maybe…”

Ok, Sammy had had his fun. Now Bendy’s nervousness and guilt about ‘causing’ him to quit was starting to become too obvious and the hand that he was using to keep himself stable was latching a bit too hard to Sammy’s shoulder. He didn’t want to cause the kid a meltdown (which got a very literal meaning with the toons when they were stressed). He was about to give in and tell him the truth when a loud cracking noise caught their attention. They both slowly looked at the door.

“What was that?” Bendy asked warily.

“I don’t know, but it sure didn’t sound like an axe to me.”

Sammy backed away slowly from the door until his back touched the wall opposite to it. They flinched when they heard the sound again, and a crack cut right through the middle of the door. Then again, and splinters were sent flying everywhere. Once more, and the door was split in two. Sammy instinctively grabbed Bendy to shield him from the raining debris that exploded as a result. All the remaining water gushed out into the hallway, but Sammy didn’t take notice, nor did Bendy. There was something far more important that had just appeared. Right in front of the destroyed door was an enormous mass of ink, so tall and wide that it wouldn’t have been able to fit through the doorway if it tried. It vaguely resembled the top half of a human, it’s hunched torso being its support on the floor. Hollowed eyes looked at them with a dead stare. Sammy didn’t even dare to breathe.

“What are you doing standing there? Move aside!” Joey’s order returned them to reality.

The ink monster immediately obeyed, granting the space needed for a very panicked looking Joey to run into the bathroom. His glasses were crooked on his face, he was breathing hard and he was clutching a book with such force that his hands were shaking. The instant he spotted Bendy in Sammy’s hands, his face flooded with relief. On Sammy’s part, he couldn’t take his eyes off the monstruosity that had just appeared before him, so still petrified in his place, he could only ask:

“What the hell is that?!”

“Oh, well Wally said the door was stuck, so I figured we would need a little help.” Joey answered, waving his hand dismisively. “More importantly, Bendy are you ok?!”

Sammy, realizing he was still holding Bendy as far away from the door as possible, cleared his throat and shoved him into Joey’s arms. He didn’t stay to see Joey smothering Bendy in a hug and checking him for any damage. Instead he headed towards his sweet freedom, giant monster outside or not. He still practically hugged the wall to not come close to that thing, though. He got out just in time to see Wally Franks arrive running and lean against the wall to catch his breath, muttering something about Joey being fast for his age. Sammy didn’t spare him a second before pointing to the ink creature and giving him an incredulous look.

“What about that looks like an axe to you, Franks?!” His voice was just a tad more high pitched than he would have liked, but he ignored it for the time being. Wally looked at him to respond, but couldn’t stop himself from snorting.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you were drenched!”

Sammy’s death glare shut him up.

“R-right, uh, so I told Joey what happened and I thought he was going to yell at me and then tell me where the axe was, but he just got all pale and then he grabbed that book and started running while yelling some weird crap on another language. Next thing you know, big guy over there is growing out of the ground and following him down the stairs! It was crazy!” Wally scratched his head. “Umm, I also think someone fainted when it passed in front of them…”

Sammy let out a sigh and rubbed at his head. The pain that had been receding was now returning tenfold.

“Sammy!” Joey called out to him while he, too, exited the bathroom. “I’m glad everyone’s ok, of course, but I would like to know… how did that happen?” He pointed at the destroyed sinks.

Nope. He was NOT dealing with that right now.

“Oh, I’m sure little prankster there will tell you what he did with plenty of detail. I’m going home early.”

He glared at Joey, daring him to protest. But just looking at the state he was in, his boss nodded.

“Of course, you need to go get some dry clothes. And I’m guessing I won’t see you tomorrow?”

“You guess correctly,” Sammy said as he walked past his boss, not taking his eyes off the ink beast, just in case.

“See you on monday?”

At that Sammy stopped. That had been Bendy asking. He turned around to look at the demon in Joey’s arms, who was looking up at him with pleading eyes. Sammy remained silent for a moment. He guessed he could just ignore him, but he had punished him enough already.

“Yeah, yeah. See you on monday. Unfortunately.”

At that, Bendy visibly relaxed. Sammy rolled his eyes and kept walking.

Monday arrived way faster than Sammy would have liked, but then again, that was nothing new. What was new, however, was that he found his office exceptionally clean. He hadn’t bothered tidying things up before he left on friday, but now the honey was gone from his desk, and there didn’t seem to be a paper out of place or a speck of dust on any surface. A report of what had been done on saturday and a list of future tasks was already waiting for him, too.

But what caught his attention the most was a colorful piece of paper sitting on the middle of his desk. It was a drawing. It depicted him conducting a band, with random musical notes (some of which weren’t even real notes) forming an arch above his head. He stared at it for a long while,slowly processing the fact that this was most likely some sort of apology. He shook his head. He couldn’t waste more time on this. He had work to do. Sammy was going to just put it away into a random drawer, but looking at it again, he changed his mind. He put it in the upper right drawer instead.

#ask-joeydrewstudios #my art #my bendy art #my fanfics #my bendy fanfics #bendy and the ink machine #batim #sammy lawrence

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yun-shuten · 6 years

Text

Narcolepsy Pt. 4

Summary: I can’t believe Henry killed Sammy

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3

Sammy was having a perfectly fine day for once since the day he started working for Joey Drew Studio.

First off, he woke up on time to eat breakfast without needing to rush.

Then there was no traffic in the road, so he arrived to work on time.

When he came to work, he discovered that the ink pipe in his office didn’t burst over his hard-written works for once.

Then there were the other musicians who didn’t screw up as often during their rehearsal, and thus they didn’t waste time on silly mistakes.

His day got better when Wally didn’t lose his keys again, and go asking around if anyone had seen his key

Finally, the best of all, nobody bothered Sammy all day.

The lack of distractions gave Sammy all the beloved ( and well needed ) time to finish his work that was needed for the upcoming Bendy cartoon episode, and frankly Sammy was pleased that he wouldn’t have to stress over the deadlines again.

Needless to say, Sammy was having a very good day.

Until he tripped over the stairs on his way to Joey’s office. Bundles of sheet music in his arms and all of them flying into the air as the songwriter loudly swore in his descent down the stairs.

---

“You know, I’m surprised Henry hasn’t passed out on his desk today yet.” Jack remarked as he stared at Henry’s desk which was filled with stacks of drawings, “You’d think that with his narcolepsy that he’d fall asleep already.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that just yet.” Thomas replied, leaning back on the chair he was sitting on, “Knowin’ that sleepyhead? He’s probably sleeping somewhere else in the studio right now, waiting until someone finds him again.”

“Right now?” Jack rose a brow at the janitor, “But he just left for his lunch break.”

“Obviously you haven’t seen how fast he can fall asleep.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “I bet you one of Joey’s biscuit that someone’s already tripped over him.”

“Deal.”

---

Shawn stared down at the staircase when he had heard someone swearing loudly.

Funnily enough, it sounded like Sammy Lawrence.

Then he glanced back at the body on the floor.

“You couldn’t have picked a better place to fall asleep?” He muttered mostly to himself as the person in front of him was far beyond the point of unconsciousness to hear him.

“Alright Henry, let’s get you to the couch,” Shawn said as he wrapped his arms under the sleeping animator, “Before someone trips over you and falls down the stairs.”

---

If people called Joey creepy, then Henry was twice creepier than Joey whenever he was lying still on the couch.

People would pass by the employee break room and see Henry watching them without blinking until they left. Even Wally didn’t remain for long as he moped the floor as fast he could, and left once he was done, muttering about Henry’s blank stares being terrifying.

Henry was still on the couch when Norman walked inside and noticed Henry being wide awake.

“You’re up?” Norman asked.

Henry said nothing, instead opting to watch Norman.

Norman frowned at the animator’s silence and approached the couch.

Neither of the two said a word, instead they stared at each other dead in the eye.

Eventually there was a flash of recognition in Norman’s eye as his mind came to a conclusion.

“Is this the sleep paralysis you were telling us about before?” Norman asked, “Look up if it’s a yes.”

Henry’s eyes moved up.

“I’ll stay with you until it wears off then.” The projectionist said, sitting down in front of the couch.

Henry did his best to convey his appreciation through his eyes.

---

Henry concluded that sleep paralysis sucked.

Falling asleep at any time without so much of a warning?

That’s okay, he can deal with that. He just has to work harder while he’s awake to compensate for the time lost, and Joey doesn’t mind that.

Wake up on the studio floor with a few developing bruises that comes from collapsing?

Yeah, no problem. They have an infirmary for a reason and Henry is well acquainted with the first aids there by now.

Waking up and not being able to move anything at all except your eyes though?

It was forcing him through boredom that seemed to stretch on forever. There was nothing that Henry could do to distract him, except maybe imagine ideas for a bit but that would get boring very quickly.

He couldn’t really talk either, so it wasn’t like he could hold a conversation with someone to pass the time, much less start one.

So, all he does is watch people in the end.

Which is really boring too.

It was a good thing that Norman found him. He had set up a projector in the break room and moved the couch Henry was on so the animator could see the screen. Now they were watching some of the Bendy cartoon episodes until the sleep paralysis wore off.

Norman had always been a bright man and Henry found himself appreciating the projectionist all the more.

---

Wally looked up at the stair case before moving his gaze down to the body of Sammy Lawrence.

There was a sizable bump swelling on the musician’s head and if Wally hadn’t known any better, he’d think that Sammy was dead from falling down the stairs.

Which was starting to sound pretty morbid now that he thought about it.

The janitor curiously brushed a hand against Sammy’s head and inspected his fingers. Only the tip was slick with blood.

Good thing Wally remembered where the first aid kit was stashed on this floor.

Hopefully Sammy wasn’t dead by the time he got back.

---

The time of the sacrifice for his Lord was nigh.

The wandering sheep had arrived in the halls where he, his Lord’s Prophet, roamed.

Sammy watched from atop his balcony as the man wandered into his sanctuary, presumably to use the valve that was hiding within.

He observed in glee as the man successfully held off the horde of searchers that had come to test his sacrifice, gaining only a few wounds that weren’t too serious.

This man would be the perfect sacrifice to appease for his Lord Bendy.

Perhaps even enough that the Lord would grant his prophet his desired freedom from the inky abyss.

The sheep had wandered into the infirmary which the prophet found no issues with.

He could not have the sacrifice being damaged too badly from his scuffle with the searchers – he wouldn’t dare to offer a broken object to his Lord.

It was outrageous, scandalous, and outright blasphemous.

What kind of prophet would he be if he dared to serve that to his Lord?

‘However,’ Sammy thought with growing irritation, ‘The sheep has been inside for too long.’

Time had long lost its meaning to the Prophet, with the timeless state that the studio was trapped in and his admittedly spotty memory. The only way one could tell the time was to check the clocks scattered throughout the studio but there were too many that Sammy didn’t know where they were.

Even if he did know, he didn’t recall where he’d seen them.

“Sheep, sheep, where are you?” He hummed to himself quietly as he made his way to the infirmary, hopefully to run into the wandering sheep.

He had not expected it to happen literally when his feet caught onto something, and his face was quick to meet the floorboard.

He had also not his head to hit the wall with a solid thud.

---

Henry woke up with the feeling of something heavy over him.

His suspicion was confirmed when he registered a body covered in ink lying atop of his back and boy, did Henry did his best not to shriek in panic.

Because it wasn’t every day that you woke up on the floor of the hellish studio that you used to work in and also had someone’s body over you.

The stranger was heavy too and that did not help Henry at all, especially with how small he was in comparison to the stranger.

Henry grunted as he pushed and wiggled his way out from under the inky body and let out a relieved sigh once he was free.

The former animator stared down at the person who had somehow collapsed over him and experimentally poked him with his toe.

There was a small groan from the body which made Henry back out of the infirmary to down the stairs.

Nope.

Henry was not going to stick around and wait for this ambiguously human male to wake up.

Absolutely not.

#Noot's fanfiction #bendy and the ink machine #batim #batim henry #batim sammy #jack fain #Shawn Flynn #norman polk #thomas connor

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eclectic-spaghetti · 6 years

Text

The Believer - Chapter Six

Description: First chapter is here. Second chapter is here. Third chapter is here. Fourth chapter is here. Fifth chapter is here. This got really long, haha! I think this is my favorite so far! Again, this involves some theories from @adobe-outdesign, so check those out!

Warnings: Very mild language

Other: A little bit of Samsie (you can’t stop me)

Sammy Lawrence was nervous. He was on the edge of a huge mob that had surrounded particular section of wall. The workday had just begun, and all the Music Department employees had descended Utility Shaft 9, just like always, and entered the lobby, just like always. What they saw on the wall, however, that was where things deviated from the norm.

On the wall, right across from the big entry sign, were words. They were smeared on the wall in thick, black, ink, and they read: HE IS THE SAVIOR. IT’S TIME TO BELIEVE.

All around him, Sammy’s coworkers were grumbling and speculating to themselves.

“That’s not coming off...”

“Who could have done this..?”

“Who is ‘He?’“

Sammy was in the back, trying to slip past the crowd. He had just left his office for five minutes to get a cup of coffee, and now all these people had to show up?

You see, Sammy was nervous for a good reason.

He had written on the wall. Sammy’s mind was still a little fuzzy from the experience, but he remembered taking out a can of ink, dipping his finger in it, and...

Sammy wasn’t quite sure why he did it, but now that he had, he felt strangely blissful. He had surely pleased his Lord, and he was sure that the day to follow would be a peaceful, quiet workday. He could work on some songs, he could play the banjo, all in the quiet of his sanctuary. He might even check in to see how Susie was doing...

But right now, all that had to wait. He had an immediate issue. Jack Fain, who had just emerged from... wherever the hell he goes off to, had noticed Sammy. Sammy tried to push through the crowd and get away, but Jack caught him.

“Say, Sammy... You were here early this morning...” Jack began.

The entire mob was staring at them now. Sammy started sweating. He had been called a good liar before, but Jack really put him on the spot this time, and he had no answer for him.

“You were here early, so you might’ve seen who did it! Did you happen to get a look, Sammy?”

Sammy exhaled. “No, I didn’t, Jack. I was busy in my office, working on a new song. That reminds me, how’re the words for ‘Siren Serenade’ coming along?”

Jack brightened. “Oh, they’re going grand! I’ve gotten loads of work done now that I’ve got the tune down, you really have a nice one on this piece...” Jack continued to rattle on. Sammy relaxed. He had defused the situation, now he just needed to slip out of the room and-

“Ladies and gentlemen!”

Sammy nearly fell over. Standing in the doorway, in his elegant suit and ink-stained tie, was Joey Drew himself. He was holding his crutch, but Sammy noticed that he still was being practically carried by Wally Franks, who was wedged into the end of the hallway, peeking over Joey’s shoulder.

“Mr. Norman Polk had the common sense to come up to my office and tell me what was going on! Now, if you will step aside, I may let Wallace in to clean up the... whatever it is.”

Joey moved aside (well, more like shuffled) and let Wally into the room, who was still grumbling under his breath at being called ‘Wallace.’

When Wally got to see the wall, he jumped a foot in the air. “Holy smoke! Who wrote that?”

The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Wally sighed. “I get it. Hold on, I’ll get this cleaned off in a jiffy, and then I gotta go see Shawn Flynn... I mean, uh, I need to clean out the toy machine room! Yeah.” Wally almost fell over himself getting out of the room to find his supplies.

While Wally hunted for his stuff, Sammy noticed that Joey Drew was still in the corner, and he was staring at him. Sammy quickly looked away.

A few moments later, Wally came back, holding a large rag and a spray bottle of acetone. He went to work on the wall, muttering about how he’d have to buy a new rag after this.

Sammy tried to quietly slip away from the situation, but he couldn’t help noticing that Joey’s eyes were following him.

When Sammy got to his office, he slammed the door and collapsed on his desk. He gathered up his papers and prepared to start working on finalizing ‘Tombstone Picnic,’ when he heard a knock on the door.

Sammy’s tolerance to the distractions from doors opening and closing had broadened considerably since he was given his sanctuary, but he still sighed when the door opened.

“Sammy?”

Susie Campbell entered the room shyly, almost timidly, and Sammy smiled.

“Hello, Susie. What brings you here?”

Susie smiled back. “I just came to say hello, and...” She paused. “I was hoping you could give me some words of encouragement.”

Sammy nodded. It was Susie’s first solo recording session since her debut, and Sammy was not scheduled to be helping her this time. “Ah. Yes. Right.”

Sammy tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Well, something to think about... I helped Jack write the lyrics for this song, so you know it’s going to be just right for you.”

Susie blushed. “Thank you, Sammy. I’m still a little bit uneasy... Like something will go disastrously wrong somehow...”

Sammy put his hand on Susie’s shoulder. “Hey. It’s going to be fine. I’ll have a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you here when you get back.”

Susie was about to respond, but she was interrupted by Norman’s thunderous voice echoing through the halls and into the open door.

“MISS CAMPBELL! WE’RE WAITING FOR YOU!”

Susie blushed. “I have to go.”

Sammy grinned. “I can tell. You’ll do great.”

Susie rushed toward the door. “Thank you, Sammy- YES, I”M COMING, NORMAN!” And she was gone.

Sammy shut the door behind her, flipped the pump switch for good measure, and sat down at his desk. Maybe, with everyone else in the recording studio, he might not need to use his sanctuary... For once, he thought bitterly.

Sammy Lawrence.

Sammy stiffened from his slumped position, but this made him overbalanced, and his chair tipped backwards, sending him sprawling on the ground.

My.. My lord? Sammy ‘spoke’ back to the voice in his mind, without any thought to

Greetings, my prophet. I-

krrrr krrrr krrrr.... krrrr krrrr KRRRR...

The voice was drowned out by the pump switch powering on for one of its automatic cleanups.

Sammy jumped up. He couldn’t hear "Bendy” anymore. He ran to the pump switch and flipped it back to the ‘off’ position. Nothing happened. He tried again, twice, increasingly desperate. Nothing. The horrible grinding sound droned on and on, like some insidious insect, cutting Sammy off from his Lord.

Sammy was breathing very hard. His Lord was trying to tell him something. He had to hear. He had to know. He had to leave. The noise, the noise was deafening in his ears, echoing through his mind, shaking his entire body i have to leave i have to get out help help help i cant do this anymore

Sammy wrenched open his door, thundered down the hall, and pulled the door of the recording studio open with such force that it slammed against the wall with a loud CRASH!

In the heat of the moment, Sammy had forgotten that there was a big recording session in progress. The band was swinging, Susie was singing, and Norman was running the projector in his booth. They hadn’t stopped playing, but the conductor was taking curious glances at Sammy, who was still standing in the doorway, breathing hard. Part of him didn’t want to, but he had to stop it. He had to hear.

“STOP EVERYTHING!” Sammy yelled at the top of his voice. The band ground to a halt. Norman clicked off his projector, and Susie’s voice cracked before she too went silent.

The band conductor glared at Sammy. “I hope this is important, Sammy. we were nearly finished, and now the take is ruined!”

Susie went wide-eyed when she saw Sammy in the doorway. “Sammy? Is- Is something wrong?”

Sammy felt a pang of guilt, but he had already disrupted the recording. He couldn’t exactly leave now. Besides, he was so close...

“Everyone out! Into the hall!” Sammy jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing out the door.

The violinist stood up angrily. “Why? Is there some kind of emergency?”

Sammy was on the verge of panic. These people needed to just get out of here!

“JUST! GET OUT!” Sammy bellowed.

Everyone was too stunned to argue. The conductor gave Sammy one more baleful glance, then stalked out of the room. The band followed soon after. As they filed out of the room, Sammy realized that they were taking away his only access to his sanctuary.

“Leave your instruments!” Sammy yelped. The band gave him a quizzical look, but they left their instruments on the chairs and left the room.

Sammy stood there for a moment, gazing around the room. Finally, he could escape to the peace and quiet of his sanctuary, and finally, finally, hear what his Lord had to say.

“Sammy?”

Sammy jumped about a foot in the air. He whirled around. Susie Campbell was still standing in the recording booth. “Susie, I-”

Susie cut him off. “Sammy, what’s going on? You were so kind and encouraging before... And now you just come marching in here and shut us all down? Why? What’s wrong, Sammy?”

She seemed genuinely concerned for him, and Sammy felt terrible. Hearing Susie say what he’d done out loud was a jolt to the skull. It made him realize how horrible he was being, and all for what? A stupid voice in his head?

For the first time in days, Sammy’s head felt clear. He stepped toward Susie, and she moved away from the window and opened the door. “Come on, Sammy. Come and tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you”

Sammy grinned. He felt light as a feather. Hearing Susie’s heavenly voice made him remember... He remembered how he felt before this whole “Bendy” thing began... Sammy was elated. He was free, free from his prison. He was running now. The black tint was gone from his vision, and he could see clearly... And what he saw was the beautiful Susie standing in front of him. The angel... She had saved his soul.

As he moved towards her, a tiny thought surfaced in the shriveled, selfish bit of his mind.

But if I let it all go... I won’t have my sanctuary anymore... Do I want that?

And that was it. That one little act of doubt... It was enough to pull him back. He felt lightheaded, and he sort of stumbled on his path towards Susie.

When he stood up, his vision was clouded and murky again, and his brain felt heavy, like he had forgotten something important.

Welcome back, my prophet.

What had he been doing...?

He dimly made out Susie Campbell standing in front of him. She looked worried. “Sammy? Are... Are you all right?”

Sammy straightened. He didn’t remember what she wanted with him, but he did recall that he cared for her... The rational part of him decided that she could not get mixed up in what he was doing... She was not strong enough.

Sammy spoke in a firm tone. “...Susie, I do not want you to have any part in this... Please... Please just forget about what happened.”

Sammy turned, and trudged out the door. He vaguely perceived Susie calling out to him, but it was muted, and his ears were ringing.

As Sammy moved out of the Recording Studio, intending to start the projector to enter his sanctuary, he was lost in his own head, which made him walk smack into Norman Polk. Sammy was dazed for a few seconds, then his blurry vision cleared enough to see the projectionist standing right in his face. He looked exceedingly angry.

“What the blazes do you think you’re doing, Sammy? You send us all out here, breaking up a very important recording session, and now you just up and leave? What’s wrong with you, man?” Norman was bellowing in full force at Sammy now, when he saw how terrified Sammy was, his tone softened some.

“You’re usually such a kind person... What’s wrong, Sammy?”

Sammy couldn’t believe it. Here he was, with far more important things on his mind, and someone was trying to talk him away from it all?

Sammy drew himself up to his full height (which was still only up to Norman’s shoulder) and planted a finger right in Norman’s chest. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Mr. Polk. I have important problems on my mind, and people are trying to slow me down! First the Angel, and now you! I’ve had enough of this! I’ve had enough interruptions! I’ve had enough distractions!”

Norman looked taken aback. Sammy had never shown this kind of atttitude towards him before... or anyone, for that matter. Before he could say anything else, Sammy stalked away from him and up the stairs.

Sammy had done this before, of course, so he knew that he had only a certain amount of time to play his favorite song, and, since the instruments weren’t put away in neat rows like they usually were, he had to go much faster than usual.

With a clunk, Sammy started up the projector, and tore down the stairs as fast as he could run. He sprinted around the hall, past the crowd of band members before Norman could say a word, and into the studio. Sammy slammed the door closed, and before he could catch his breath, Sammy dashed around the room, plucking a single note on the violin that lay on the leftmost chair, rushing to slam his hand on the piano, tearing back to the violin, and then practically threw himself at the bass fiddle over in the corner. It let out a solitary note, and immediately the projector turned itself off. Sammy ran over to the gate, and, sure enough, it was opening, with a steady, low creaking sound. As soon as it was high enough to accommodate his head, Sammy dashed inside.

Sammy lit a candle and walked down the hallway to his desk. The gate shut behind him, and Sammy was in complete darkness, except for his candle. He set it on the desk, and sat at his stool, waiting, waiting to finally hear what his Lord had to say to him.

Greetings, Sammy Lawrence. The voice of “Bendy” washed over Sammy’s mind like a dream. Instantly, Sammy forgot all that had happened before he entered his sanctuary. None of it mattered. He was here now.

My Lord! I finally hear you! Your voice... It is soothing.

Good, good...

You were interrupted before, my Lord... What was it you were trying to tell me?

I wished to congratulate you on your... endeavor this morning... Your devotion is truly exceptional.

Th-Thank you, my Lord!

However. I strongly urge you not to associate with that... angel... anymore. Her words are strong. I am impressed you resisted her siren’s song.

Of course, my Lord. My belief in you is what saved me. Sammy winced, sure that “Bendy” would call him on his lie. But the voice took no notice, and continued.

Very well, my prophet. I shall leave you now. Enjoy your solitude.

Total silence. Sammy breathed deeply, inhaling the peace and seclusion of his sanctuary, and exhaling all the strife and worry that plagued his life outside. Here, he could relax. Here, he could be happy. Here, he was free.

As Sammy turned to his desk, he frowned. Something was there that did not belong. Or, rather, two somethings. A book, with a piece of paper resting on it. Sammy picked up the paper first. It was written in fancy, loopy letters that Sammy instantly recognized as the handwriting of Joey Drew.

Dear Samuel,

Having seen your recent work in the hall, I understand what you are up to. I have an offer for you, so would you kindly meet me up in my office after your work is finished? In the meantime, I've provided some light reading to pass the time. It may enlighten you.

Sammy stared at the page for a few minutes more, then crumpled it up, tossed it into the toilet, and flushed it. Then he picked up the book. As he expected, it was another of the countless copies of "The Illusion of Living" that Joey had made.

Sammy was angry, frustrated, and more than a little shaken. How had Joey found his sanctuary? How did he know Sammy had made the writing in the hall? The questions kept piling up in his mind, until Sammy had a resolution. He would go see Joey, but not to accept his "offer" (whatever that was), but to get answers.

After Sammy returned to his office (keeping watch for Norman and Susie along the way), he threw the book into the trash can.

#eclectic post #FINALLY #the believer #sammy lawrence #joey drew #wally franks #susie campbell #jack fain #joey drew studios #eclectic writings #norman polk #bendy and the ink machine #batim fic #ink bendy #bendy #im really tired no more tags

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