#his normal one is kind of boring it's just a jumpsuit

[fl3shm4id3n]

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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴜʙᴜꜱ/ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: slight SMUT?, Mentions of murder/homicides, reader is a narcissists and delulu (delusional af), mentions of promiscuity, talks about sex, reader is self absorb, age gap (reader is early 20s and Jonathan is in his early 30s), toxic behavior, reader is a bit needy, making out, titty grabbing and groping.

A/N: I wanted to write something, based on Jennifer Check from Jennifer's Body.

Masterlist

All that you regretted was not being careful enough, you had been caught. And out of all night, it just had to be prom night, you hated being seen the way that you did. Your dress all wet with blood, your hair was also wet and your makeup was a mess. When you saw the pictures on the news paper, you nearly lost it. All you wanted to do was scream by how bad you looked that night. The only good thing was that you looked hot in the orange jumpsuit given to you, the whole trial you were busy trying to look good and pretty for the cameras. You'd even smile and wave as if you were some kind of celebrity who just won an award and was loved by many. You weren't, but you loved to think that you did.

You were going to be an Arkham for a while, well until you were stable enough to go back out into the real world. You hated your stay. They didn't give you any kind of skincare or makeup that you could use. The only thing that was good was that you had your own room. Except that room looked like shit. You hated it, but it was better than dealing with a lunatic. Most days you'd be rotting in bed or looking at yourself in the small plastic mirror. Trying to make yourself look decent of some kind. You hated not having skincare of your makeup. One morning you had woken up, then discovered that you had a pimple on your cheek. You threw a fit, you screamed and even fought with the security guards because of your silly little outburst.

You didn't even know if you'd be able to stand being in Arkham for long. It's already been two whole years and you still haven't adjusted to that place for lunatics. You wanted to get out, but you couldn't. You couldn't bride anyone with smiles, eyelash flutters or even a kiss on the cheek. Nope, it would be much harder then you thought. When it came to doctors, you tried to bride them with a wink here or a complement there. But no, they'd get fed up with you and leave to tend to someone else. It frustrated you so much. One because those tricks would normally work on anyone. Mainly those dumb high school boys who really wanted attention from a hot girl. Except, you weren't in high school anymore. You were a whole adult and so was everyone in the nut house.

That morning you simply laid in bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling while chewing on a piece of your hair. You were bored, not only that but you felt as if your skin was dry and flaky. You were having a bad morning, all you wanted to do was lay in bed and simply rot. While you continued mindlessly staring at the ceiling, you heard your door open. Sitting up, you saw that it was one of the guards. Great, another doctor. Hopefully this one is easy to crack.

You got up, then followed the guard into the room where you were left alone with the doctor. They told you to sit down and wait, as you waited. You couldn't help but bitch and whine to yourself about looking like crap. "Ugh, if I could at least have my gold hoop earrings." You whined, while throwing your head back as you slumped onto the chair. After a few minutes. You heard the door open, you didn't brother looking over until you saw a man standing in front of you. "You must be miss L/N." He said, his voice sounded, soothing and almost relaxed. Looking up, you saw who this new doctor was.

You were taken by surprise due to how cute he was. He looked no older than late twenties or early thirties maybe. He has brown hair, pale skin, peachy plumped lips and those eyes. God, those eyes were the most beautiful thing ever, almost as beautiful as you. He looked just like those boy magazines that you'd often stare at and have day dreams about bring with those boys. "And who am I pleasured to meet?" You asked, while sitting up straight, even fixed your hair a bit. "I'm Jonathan Crane, but you can call me Doctor Crane." he responded, with a neutral look and voice. You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip and ogle at him, like a teenage girl, that you still wished you were.

"Do you know why am here?" Jonathan asked, while studying your body language. Seen how you must have been smitten by him. It was an obvious observation. "Because you wanted to see the one and only, Y/n L/n?" You teased, while you giggle. All he did was look at you, seen how you were just being a tease. "Just kidding, you came to see what was wrong with me, but don't worry. There's nothing wrong with me, but I'll let you check me up." You said, with a smile and wink. Jonathan just sighed, he almost couldn't believe how shameless you were. "So, your file says that you have been convicted of a few homicides involving boys." He explained, reminding you on why you were here in the first place.

"That was a long time ago, it doesn't even matter anymore." You said, almost getting annoyed but kept your composure. "Tell me about yourself, you must be interesting." You said, while leaning against the table a bit, giving him somewhat of a view of your chest. You were glad that the orange shirt of your prison jumpsuit was somewhat big enough to give a peak at your chest. "How about, we talk about you instead. I'm here to talk to you and about you." Jonathan said, making you blush like a school girl. Were you dreaming or something? "About me? What of me?" You asked him, while looking at him. Admiring how handsome he was. How well put together he is. You just wanted to run your fingers through his hair, maybe even take his glasses and try them on just for shits and giggle. You felt as if you had fallen in love with him on the spot.

"Dunno, I'll let you decide." He said, god he was such a gentleman. "I don't know..." you said, not sure what to say or do, but then you got an idea. You quickly changed your demeaner, you went from being flirtatious to a bit sad. "It's just, been so lonely." You moaned, almost seductively. But he didn't budge. "How so?" He asked, while studying your body language. "You know, no big, strong, handsome man to protect me." You said, while looking at him directly in his eyes. You had a small pout on your lips. Trying to seem and sound as innocent and seductive as possible. "I'm sure security is doing that." He said, damn it! He wasn't falling for it.

You sighed, but kept up your act. "I know, but... You know what I mean. I want someone to love and protect me. You know, how a husband protects his wife?" You asked him, while moving both your arms on both sides of your breasts and slightly pushed them together. Making them more visible for him to see. But you noticed how he wasn't even trying to look at your chest. He just looked at your face. Then you thought of something, slowly. You scooted a bit closer to the table, then your right arm reached over and held it out for his hand to take. "Can you lend me a hand?" You asked sweetly while tilting your head to the side. Jonathan hesitated, but he reached out and allowed you to get a hold of his hand.

You took his hand and slowly guided it towards your chest, but you placed his hand on where your heart was. His huge palm could feel the plushy and softness of your breast. You somewhat wished that he'd give it a small and light squeeze. "Feel my heart Doctor Crane... I think it's broken." You nearly said in a whisper. Seductively. Even with his hand on your breast he didn't seem to budge, he just looked at your face and nothing else. After some time, he removed his hand off your breast and checked the time on his watch. "Well, our time is up." That's all he said, you felt disappointed. You weren't used to that kind rejection, your previous doctors would of cummed right in their pants, him? He was going to be a challenge and you weren't going to give up easily.

Almost a whole month has passed and still, nothing. Doctor Crane was a hard nut to crack. Not only that, but your so called supernatural powers didn't show up. To this day, you still aren't really able to explain how you got them. Ever since that night that you had been killed by those guys who claimed to be a band, you've been behaving and acting strange. Were your powers weak? Or did they go away? The reason why you were powerful a two years back, was because you fed off the attention you were given by everyone, specially the boys. In here, anyone barely even looked at you. It made you feel weak and drained. Maybe that's what it was, the lack of attention is what's making you feel that way. You hated it.

The only one who fed you attention was Doctor Crane, after your sessions. You'd have that energy, you felt much fresher than before. That's what made you love him even more. Despite his coldness, he gave you that energy that you so needed. Your previous doctors didn't do that, since they only see you once and after you played your little game they'd leave because they couldn't stand you. Ever since Doctor Crane into your life, you couldn't help but fall for him. Was it really love? You weren't so sure or bothered trying to find an answer to your question. You just loved how he'd give you attention, even if it'd irritate the hell out of him. He stayed. Probably to study you some more, but you didn't mind being studied by him. As long as he feeds you the attention you've craved for the last two years, you didn't care.

That day, you didn't see the doctor. Since he was other stuff to do. It'd been a whole week since you've seen him. He'd come every day, until now. He just hasn't showed up at all. It made you sad and made you feel even more tired and drained. His attention was something that you've got addicted too. You wanted it, you had to have it. But you couldn't, it wouldn't be easy. You felt your skin get flaky and dry, like a snake's. You began to see that you were getting dark circles under eyes. Because of how tired you've got. God, you missed him so much. You've began to have dreams of you and him, married, living together. You didn't understand why, you didn't have dreams of that sort, ever.

It was already late at night, you laid in bed. Alone in the dark, still feeling like shit. You were laying on your side, facing the wall. Thinking about Doctor Jonathan Crane. You simply stared at the wall, seen how you had managed to engrave his name onto that old concrete wall. Since the day he didn't show up, was when you craved his name into the wall. Just so that you could stare and look at the name, sometimes even caress it as if it was the most delicate thing. Eventually you closed your eyes, trying to maybe get some sleep, and dream about him.

But your eyes quickly shot open when you heard the door of your room open. You quickly sat up and turned around to see who or what it was. It was somewhat dark, but the small window of your cell allowed you to see who it was. It was him, Jonathan. He stood there looking back at you for a whole minute. You didn't even notice him closing the door, your name focus was him. "Jonathan?" You said, almost in disbelief. "The one and only." He said, his voice made your chest rise and your heartbeat go over the roof. Not only that, but you also felt how your skin began to feel fresh, as if cold water had been splashed onto your dry skin. Making it feel refreshed.

"Oh Johnny." You said, quickly getting up from your bed and ran up to him. He wasn't far away from you, since your room was small. Almost as small as your old walk in closet. Once you reached him, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Hugging him tightly. "I missed you, so much." You said, while hugging him. You couldn't help but get a whiff of his washed clothed mixed with his cologne. You missed that scent, his scent. You felt how he too wrapped one arm around your waist and petted your hair. "I know you did." He said, neutrally, but it sounded sweet to you. He was sweet to you in his way. You didn't want to let go or him to let you go. You wanted to be in his arms forever until you both die and rot.

Then he slowly pulled away from you, looking down at your face. But you kept your arms around his waist, so that he couldn't go just yet or even attempted to leave. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to see you." Jonathan said, while gently caressing your cheek. Making you purr and close your eyes by the touch of his hand on your now fresh and bright skin. "Where did you go? Why did you leave me here alone?" you asked, almost desperate to know his reasons why you disappeared for a whole week. "I had other things to tend to." He said, while looking at you. Seen how week and vulnerable you were at the moment. "Doesn't matter anymore, at least you came here. To see me." You said, with a small smile on your lips. Happy to be this close to him. This was the first time you've ever been this close to him.

"Can I ask you something?" You asked, almost timidly, but you just had to ask him. "Of course, what is it?" He asked, while looking at you. His eyes, damn those eyes. They made your legs shake and nearly go week. "Could I kiss you?" you asked, while beginning to breath heavily. All of a sudden you got, you felt your skin heat up and needed to remove some clothes just to calm the heat down. Jonathan smiled at you. Sweetly, but that sweetness had a small hint of sinisterism. "Of course you can." He said, without hesitating. You smashed your lips against his.

Jonathan let out a small grunt as soon as your lips touched his. Your arms snaked around his neck, desperately trying to get him to be closer to you than he already was. Jonathan held you close to him as well. The kiss got slightly violent and more sloppy. Both your tongued wrestled one another's, followed by teeth clanking against one another and your lips pressed against his. You needed that, you wanted that. Jonathan's hands grabbed at your ass, giving it a squeeze every now and then, as a way of getting you either railed up or just flat out tease you. Soon after, you felt his hand get a hold of one of your breasts. Causing you to moan against his mouth.

His palm caress and gripped onto your breast, slightly pinching your harden nipple. "Ah!" You moaned against his mouth, feeling how your once weak body was burning with desire. You wanted more, you needed more. As soon as your hands reached down to get a hold of his belt. Jonathan stopped grabbing your breast and pull away from the sloppy kiss. "Wha-" You manage to say. You looked at him, shocked and breathless by his sudden motion. "Now now." He simply said, while he admired how worked up you were. "But-" You were quickly cut off by him. "Shh, shh." He shushed you. In which you. You could feel how his cold hand gently got a hold of your chin and cheeks, as soon as his cold skin touched the hot skin of your cheeks. You felt relaxed.

"Patience. You're not ready yet." He said, making you let out a small whine. "But I am." You whined, you sounded so needy, but you didn't care. You wanted him right there and then. "You think you're ready, but you're not. Be patient." He said said, almost in a whisper. So that only you could hear. You wanted to protest, but you didn't. You choose to listen again. You simply nodded in response. "Alright, Doctor." You said, almost in a form of a moan. Jonathan smirked at you, gently cleaning off yours and his mixed saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. "Good girl." He praised, making you nearly fell at your knees by his words.

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#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x fem reader #jonathan crane x female reader #jonathan crane x patient reader #jonathan crane x succubus reader #jonathan crane x vampire reader #jonathan crane fic #jonathan crane fics #fem reader #fem y/n #female reader #female y/n #patient reader #patient y/n #succubus reader #succubus y/n #vampire reader #vampire y/n #cereza's writing #cereza's fics #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 #𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔷𝔞'𝔰 𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔰

[ellie-24]

Behind the scenes

Summary: So this a prequel to my story Maybe one day. But you don't have to read it in order to understand this one. Enjoy!:)

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: pills, addiction, mentions of blood, talks of Gladys' death

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Working for Elvis Presley truly was a once in a lifetime opportunity. So it wasn't really a hard choice to leave your job in Memphis behind and get introduced to this crazy show world and Las Vegas. Meeting him was an certainly experience in itself, his whole persona was just magnetic. You could tell he absolutely lived the rockstar image, which actually made you a bit wary of him at first. Though he was charismatic and charming he could get intimidating as hell when he wanted to.

Over the course of your first week working for him the two of you developed a kind of routine. You started to get to know his habits and got more involved in his schedule, which made you more than happy. After a few days of being more or less close to him you knew just exactly how and when he liked his coffee, when he would eat and what he liked, you made some phone calls for him, picked up things he needed and you would clean his suite every evening. He also asked you to pick up his prescribed medications a few times and while this kind of worried you, he really shouldn’t perform when he felt sick, you tried to put on a neutral face as this was really none of your business. The only thing you couldn’t really figure out in this week of being closer to him was, ironically, him.

It was this one evening after another successful show where you would catch a glimpse of him behind the scenes. Although nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary at first. Like every evening you would leave the after show party early in order to clean his suite while he remained downstairs and got his usual high on women and alcohol. You had finished cleaning and were just busy ironing one of his jumpsuits that he wanted to wear for the next show tomorrow when you heard the door to the suite open. You watched him enter with his wet hair sticking to his forehead and a towel around his neck that he now dabbed against his sweaty face. 

"Oh Mr. Presley! You’re early tonight!" you said as he looked over to you with a surprised look on his face. "I'm almost done here." you added, not wanting to bother him. Normally you would be long gone by the time he would arrive.

"Well darlin’ the party was rather boring." he shrugged. "But what a lovely surprise it is to see you here." he drawled, gesturing in your direction. "Should’ve come up earlier." he smirked.

You quickly got used to his almost constant flirting, so you just laughed and rolled your eyes at him.

"And I already told you to call me Elvis.

Mr. Presley makes me feel even older than I already am."

 "Of course, Elvis. Sorry." you said. "Shall I order your usual food right now?"

"Yes, baby that would be great thank you." 

With that he excused himself to the bathroom to take a quick shower, as you picked up the phone to call the kitchen staff and place his food order. You then quickly wanted to finish ironing the jumpsuit when he suddenly emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, a robe lazily hanging off his broard shoulders. You tried not to stare at the hairy chest peeking from underneath the deep v neck of his robe and the way his wild hair was sticking to all direction, rid of any products. He sat down on the couch but instead of turning on the tv set as he usually did he watching you intently. You started to grow nervous under his intense gaze and threw him a quick smile before resuming your work. Yet you still felt his eyes shamelessly wandering over your body. You cleared your throat and started talking, the silence between you becoming too much to bear for your nerves.

"I know I’ve told you so many times already but your performance tonight was absolutely brilliant!" you rambled and clasped your hands together.  "Really you completely blew my mind... you seem to do that with every show." you smiled softly.

Elvis kept his intense gaze fixated upon you. He knew what you wanted, what every woman wanted from him, really. He hasn’t gotten any action today anyway, so he slowly got up from the couch and approached you with a slurred "That’s really sweet of you darlin’."

He was so close to you now that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him and the scent of his cologne clouded your senses. His massive frame towered over you and you got even more flustered. He licked his lips and watched you squirm with a shit-eating grin on his face. "You’re really pretty you know that sweetheart?"

You swallowed hard when you felt his warm hands caress your bare arms, his fingertips incredibly rough from playing the guitar for years. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt a hand grabbing the hair at the back of your neck, while the other grasped your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. You felt hot and cold at the same time, but then little alarm bells started ringing in your head.

No. No this couldn't happen.

First of all, he was your boss and this would create a highly inappropriate work situation, which you weren’t comfortable with. You didn’t want to endanger your job at all costs, as you were now to not only able to take care of yourself, but also support your parents due to the considerable salary. Second of all you really didn’t want to be another one of his flings. You saw the way the women clung to him within the last two weeks and how he would take some of them up into this very suite, only to never see them again.

No. No this just couldn't happen.

"Mr. Presley… what are you doing?" you whispered tentatively, his fingers now brushing along your cheek.

"Elvis." he whispered, correcting you.

He started to lower his head, almost touching your lips. You started to back away a little bit and he pulled you closer again. He shushed you gently, thinking you wanted to play coy with him and lowered his head again, coming dangerously close. 

However when you started putting your hands against his chest, pushing him away from you firmly, he finally backed away and looked at you with a stunned expression. With a deep breath you hugged yourself and took another step backwards. For a few seconds you just stared at each other, as if desperately trying to read each others thoughts.

You, on the one hand, started regretting what you just did. What if you pissed him off? What if he took your rejection badly? Your mind worked at lightning speed trying to figure out what to do next. Your palms started to sweat and your heart started beating so fast, you were almost worried he could hear it. You already saw yourself in a plane back to Memphis. The silence was, again, deeply uncomfortable but this time you didn’t dare to say anything.

Elvis, on the other hand, felt guilty. The way you were standing two steps away with him, hugging yourself and looking at him without that usual twinkle in your bright eyes. He didn’t like the fear and worry he saw in them now. He was certain you would appreciate this kind of attention from him, confident in his belief that you had a little crush on him. Had he really misread your behavior that much?

Clicking his tongue he started "Damnit, Y/N.." He ran a hand through his hair. "...I- I’m sorry I-I... didn’t want to make you uncomfortable."

He had barely finished his sentence when you interrrupted him. "No! I’m sorry-"

He held his hand up, silencing you. "You have nothing to be sorry for... Forgive me. I just thought..." he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.

Strangely encouraged by his obvious lack of words, the first time you had seen his usually quick-witted self like this, you lifted your chin and said "I just think it would be better for the both of us if we keep this professional. This-’  you gestured between the two of you.  "-would be highly inappropriate."

He scratched his chin and after a few seconds he nodded "...Yeah I- I guess I agree Y/N... I think you’re right... But you still haven’t answered me. Do you accept my apology?" He looked at you with a bashful expression.

"Yes I do." you said with a small smile, instant relief flooding you. He smiled back at you, again with his damned boyish charm. "There’s that pretty smile of yours. Will you please stay for a bit and eat dinner with me? That’s the least I can do as an excuse, sweetheart."

He paused for a bit. He figured that it would be better if he didn’t mention the fact that he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone with his own mind for too long. "...And I won’t try anything funny I promise." he said with his hands held up, trying to lift the mood.

You now couldn’t contain your laughter, whether it was still nervousness, relief or happiness you weren’t really able to tell. He started to laugh as well, his eyes twinkling, and went to pull out a chair for you, waiting for you to sit. "Thank you." you said with a chuckle. Deep down that southern gentleman was really still in him, you thought.

 

When he sat down he opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting to say something but apparently not knowing how. You also noticed the way his fingers were shaking a little, although you couldn’t figure out why. He wasn’t nervous was he? He quickly looked over your shoulder towards the kitchen counter. He was so unlike himself right now, but when he saw the worried expression on your face, he just smiled reassuringly at you and opened his mouth again.

"...Y-you really think it was a good show today Y/N?"

"Yeah! I stopped counting how many times I got goosebumps, really!"

"I forgot the damn lyrics like three times." he said dryly.

"Elvis, I don't think anyone noticed. I didn't... stop being so harsh on yourself."

"The tabloids notice. Every damn time... Bastards." he ran his hand over his face.

It was then that you noticed the many new bloody scratches on his fingers. This was a regular thing for him as the fans would often try to snatch the rings from his fingers as souvenirs or just wanted to hold onto him. You had seen it multiple times already until Jerry eventually told you about it.

"Elvis... your hand.." you whispered.

He looked at it as if he saw it for the first time.

"Oh it's nothing sweetheart. Don't worry."

"Elvis... please take care of yourself. You really gotta clean these or they'll get infected as well." you gestured at the patches and badages already around some of his other fingers.

"Mhm." he hummed, looking at the ceiling.

You wanted to open your mouth again, but decided against it as you saw that his mood began to sour. In that moment there was a knock on the door, indicating the food was there. You got up and quickly set the table, putting the food on both of your plates as he watched you in silent contemplation. The two of you then opted to eat in relative silence, both deep in thought. The only sound that became more and more prominent was the clinking of his cutlery as his fingers started to tremble even stronger than before. After he saw you staring at this he curtly excused himself and walked over to the kitchen counter. You turned around and saw him fumbling with some kind of pills he just retrieved from some cabinet. Didn't he keep his medicine in the bathroom? He quickly popped some in his mouth and dry swallowed them.

Noticing your confused expression he laughed, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and stated "Don’t worry sweetheart, just some vitamin pills you know? Being locked up in this-" he gestured around, just managing to repress a curse "-deprives you of uh Vitamin D. Says the Doc at least." he shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at him, not sure if he really expected you to believe this but he didn't even give you the chance to respond to this.

He sat down again and promptly asked "So... Y/N. How do you like the job so far? I can't believe I haven't asked you yet."

You looked at him with big eyes, not expecting this sudden change of mood from him. "...Oh uh it’s great really! Um you know I’ve never been out of Memphis my whole life. Coming here… Las Vegas… It was overwhelming at first, but I think I’m getting used to it."

"Small girl in a big town." he smirked. 

"Hey!" you said in mock offence while he held up his hands and looked at you with innocent eyes. "No, but you’re kinda right. Last week-" you briefly laughed at the memory "- I was on the bus and all of the sudden there is this guy next to me, who like snorts a line of cocaine or whatever right off his arm! And then he complains that he lost all of his money in the casinos and he just wouldn’t stop talking to me! When the bus stopped I just… ran out." You made a straight line with your arm to emphasize your story, still laughing. "I swear I’m such a newbie."

"...Would you like to have a car?"

"That would probably solve a lot of problems, wouldn’t it!" you snickered. 

"I’ll arrange it then." he said with a serious expression. You searched his eyes for a joke and waited for the punchline, but you got the feeling he really was dead serious. 

"...Don’t you dare." you said with a face that matched his. "That was a joke. I don’t need a car."

"It would be no problem, sweetheart."

"I would probably just crash in this city with the way they’re driving here! It's nuts." you stated, trying to keep him from buying a car. "Thank you so much for the kind offer Elvis, but I really don’t like the idea. It’s way too much money."

He looked deeply into your eyes with a slightly bewildered look on his face. No one had ever turned  down his offer to buy them a car or other materialistic things. You really were an odd one, rejecting his advances and his gifts. Yet, he was kind of intrigued by this. "Alright sweetheart... don’t want to make you uncomfortable again." he said, raising an eyebrow. 

You smiled. "No, really I’m happy the way it is. More than happy. With the money I make now I can support my parents. It’s not much, but god knows they need it… I’m glad I can do something for them. They always did their best for me."

Elvis felt like he could relate strongly to you. "You know..." he started a bit hesitant. "This is why I started in this business. I mean music has always played a big part in my life, but I wanted to support my parents as well."

"Really? I didn’t know that."

"It’s true, i-it was for them. E-Everything I did at the beginning of my career. You know, when I was this... little bitty guy, shaking my legs and going-" he made a funny face, impersonating his younger self from almost 20 years ago. "...You youngster probably don't remember that." he added with a half smile.

At that you started laughing so hard it made your stomach hurt and you couldn’t stop until you felt tears escaping your eyes. As you wiped your eyes, your laughter slowly subsiding, you saw him looking at you, rather proud of himself. 

"I’m happy to provide this for you. Makes you sleep a lot better at night knowing you can do something for your folks."

"Yes, definitely!"

"I remember when I bought Graceland. I-It was one of the most happiest moments of my life. Knowing they would never have to worry about rent, landlords, or housing itself ever again." he recalled with a fond smile. "Seeing that smile on my mama’s face..the happiness in her eyes... that’s something I’ll always cherish."

"That’s beautiful, Elvis." you managed to get out, visibly touched. Of course you knew that his mother hat died rather early, and according to the media, this loss hit him very hard. But now you saw it with your own eyes. The grief was still written all over his face, although he tried to conceal it. He watched you carefully, opening and closing his mouth again. He wanted to say more, but he made the experience that nobody wanted to hear what he really had to say. 

They wanted to be entertained by him, they wanted him to lift everyone up. Nobody wanted him to be serious or, god forbid, sad. As soon as he started going in this direction, the people left. Yet you looked at him with an encouraging expression, as if you really cared. He continued "When she… died… I felt like something of me died with her. I didn’t want to live in a world where she wasn’t by my side. After all… everything I did... was for her."

"...Oh Elvis... I’m really sorry... I see it in your face, you loved her very much. I’m sure she was more than proud to have a son like you. Remember, she is watching over you right now..." You swear his eyes were glistening for a second, but he quickly ran his hand over his face again and took a deep breath. 

"Thank you Y/N."

"Nothing to thank for."

"N-No really. I-I mean it."

"Alright." you smiled gently. "You’re welcome... I’m always here if you need someone to talk to."

He looked deep into your eyes an unreadable expression on his face. "Wouldn’t this go beyond your duties as my personal assistant?"

"We can make an exception." you said with a wink, suprised at your own confidence.

He started to laugh and you joined him, finally completely at ease with him. The two of you continued to talk on and on into the night. You now saw him with entirely different eyes. You liked this version of Elvis much more than the rockstar image he liked to portray in front of everybody else. Even himself sometimes.

You eventually started to get up and started doing the dishes, while he sat down at the piano and played a tune, softly humming to himself. After that you finished ironing the jumpsuit that sat forgotten and lonely atop the ironing board for the last hours, and checked the time. Surprised about how late it was already you quickly said goodnight to Elvis, wanting to head to your room and get some sleep.

"Alright Y/N. See you tomorrow, sweetheart. Sleep tight!" he said. You looked at him with a warm smile and approached him, still sitting at the piano. "You too." you slowly leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. He raised his eyebrows at you with a surprised expression, taking in the joyful look on your face. His eyes softened and he carefully lifted his fingers to the spot on his cheek that you had just kissed. With a smug smile he then continued to press them onto his lips, imitating a real kiss.

"Oh, you!" you laughed and lightly smacked his shoulder. "I’m leaving now. I hope the bed bugs bite you!"

You could still hear him laughing even after you closed the door behind you.

................................................................................

#elvis presley #elvis #big daddy elvis #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis movie #ellie writes

[creepswrites]

Mask of Hate Ch 2 (Michael x Reader)

god I need a better writing schedule BUT with Halloween Ends finally out, I figured no time like the present. I hope this long chapter is worth the wait!! I've got a few WIPs that just don't want to be written yet ;;

Michael Myers x trans!Reader (he/him)

Summary: Your eyes drifted to the knife block, noting the single knife missing. Michael must have it. Swallowing, you followed your father upstairs. He was slamming open every door, pointing his gun at every little movement. First his bedroom down the end of the hall. The hallway closets, your bathroom, and then finally, up to your bedroom door. WARNING: graphic depiction of death/violence, mentions of past deaths, animal injury (no death though), Michael is his own warning

CH 1.

“Has anyone ever shown you kindness?” Your voice had Michael opening his eyes, blinking slowly up at you, your hands tangled in his wet, sudsy hair. He was sprawled out, lounging out in the bathtub while you washed his hair. For the past few weeks, you’d established a routine. Michael would get hurt or get hungry, he’d come visit you. Sometimes he’d watch you sleep but he’d always be gone by the next morning.

Since the incident where you had helped him get away from the cops by making yourself bait, the two of you had an interesting partnership. He’d been upset at the time, rightfully so, but you’d been doing your best to make amends. It wasn’t normal for him to care about another person but you were doing your best to make it easy. So, you’d taken to touching him more, easing him into the idea of affection. Brushing his hands with your own, touching his arm when you wanted attention, small things like that. Michael had always associated touch with pain until you. Though your touch was likely only tolerated because you fixed him up. He’d come to you injured and bloody from fights, sometimes grazed by bullets if the cops caught him, and you’d nurse him back to health.

You’d been in the middle of bathing him when you’d asked him. The bathroom was clean, for a bathroom, and while he was too big for the tub, he had no qualms letting his legs and arms rest upon the rim to have extra room. You’d become accustomed to him, no longer flushing at his nakedness, so washing the blood off his skin didn’t bother you. You’d bought black wash clothes and a black towel so your father wouldn’t get suspicious about bloodstains and you’d gotten clothes for him in his size that he could wear. Sweatpants and a t-shirt folded on the counter beside the sink, his navy blue jumpsuit in a pile on the cool, linoleum floor.

Today he hadn’t come bloody but he had come to you for something. Had showed up at your backdoor and made a beeline for the bathroom and you’d gotten the message. Bathing him had become pretty regular, though you still recalled the first few times where it’d ended with him shaking from how overwhelmed he was.

Now, though, his gaze bore into you like he was staring through you. Your hands stilled, still frothy with the light purple berry shampoo you were scrubbing into his scalp. He needed a haircut, you noted to yourself quietly. “Besides me,” you clarified softly as you scrubbed his scalp in slow circles. “You’re- You don’t-“ You sighed, trying to find the words, “I feel like people didn’t care for you like you needed them to. If that makes sense…”

Were you anyone else, you don’t doubt he’d kill you for saying that. Instead, he just glared at you, blue-green eyes narrowing. In anger or confusion, you couldn’t tell.

That was another development. As you two grew closer, he’d started taking his mask off. The first time he’d done it, it’d been because he’d been frustrated with his mask, pulling it around his face. His hair was too long and sat uncomfortably in his mask so you’d offered to cut it. Michael had thought on it for a few days and you’d reassured him he didn’t have to say yes.

Then you’d come home from work to find him sitting on your bed, scissors in one hand and latex mask clenched tight in his other. Michael didn’t look scared, not in the way you were used to seeing other people look scared. He wasn’t shaking or staring at you with fearful eyes. But his jaw was clenched. His gaze was harder. And he’d been tense having you with something sharp so close to his neck. At least a dozen times during the haircut, he’d gotten up to stand in the corner because of how overwhelming it was. You’d let him.

You’d gotten better at reading him. He’d gotten better at giving you cues.

He sat up, putting his legs under the water, wet hair slowly slipping from between your fingers as he turned to stare at you. Michael was interesting to you, always was. You knew he was curious about you too. He’d stare at you when you watered your plants, washed his clothes, or made food in the kitchen. You felt his eyes on you constantly, be it around the house or at work. “What?” You asked softly, staring at him with your hands hovering over the tub so you didn’t get soap everywhere.

Michael blinked slowly. It reminded you of when Mayhem would blink at you. “Don’t gimme that,” you teased, smirking at him. “I just- I always feel bad for you, thinking about it. You grew up in a fuckin’ asylum, alone. Like-“ Michael reached up and put a wet hand around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding it there. You got the message: let it go. He lay back down and you resumed washing his hair, humming a thoughtless tune to yourself.

He did things like that. Held your throat or your wrist to indicate what he wanted. Words didn’t come to Michael but he could communicate. It’d stopped becoming scary to you when you’d started taking in the context clues. The rest of the bath continued in a comfortable silence, only disturbed by your humming.

Once he was clean and dressed, his jumpsuit in the wash, you went downstairs to make dinner and feed Mayhem. Michael trailed after you, wearing the black sweats and dark grey t-shirt with his wet hair dripping dark spots on his shoulders. “You’re probably due for another haircut, by the way,” you said as you opened the fridge. Mayhem was immediately rubbing up on Michael’s leg, meowing insistently.

Michael stared at her, standing in the doorway of your kitchen. You looked over your shoulder and you felt struck with the knowledge that, if it weren’t for his injured eye breaking the illusion, it almost felt like you just had a boyfriend over. You felt your face heat up at the thought, turning to stare at the fridge but not really seeing anything. “Umm… anything specific you want tonight?” Your voice was quiet and when you looked up, Michael was standing only a foot from you and nearly making you jump with surprise. Sneaky bastard…

He tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking from your face to stare at the open fridge. Before you could speak, the sound of the door opening had you both freezing. It felt like icy water was dumped down your back and you felt hot and cold all over. Adrenaline pumped through you as you whispered to Michael to hide upstairs. You quickly shut the fridge and went into the living room.

There were two doorways that led in and out of the kitchen. One that led into the living room and another that led into the hallway. You could walk a circle around the dividing wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. You just needed to pray Michael would slip into the hallway before your dad realized anything.

“H-hey dad! You’re home early…” You called as you headed towards the front door.

Your father seemed exhausted, shrugging off his outer coat and hanging it up. “Yeah, I decided to come home a bit early… It’s been an exhausting few weeks. But Myers seems to be taking a break from killing today. Who knows, maybe he’s dying.” He chuckled. Your stomach tightened but you tried to keep your smile relaxed.

“Cool, cool, I was, uh, just about to make dinner. Was thinking grilled cheese, unless you had something specific you wanted?” You leant in the doorway of the kitchen, hoping to divert your dad’s attention.

Your stomach did flips as your dad made his way past you and into the kitchen. Thankfully, Michael was gone and so was Mayhem. “Grilled cheese sounds good. You want me to-“ Your dad was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. He sighed and gave you a wistful smile. “I’ll take this outside. You almost sighed a relief when he went back outside.

Michael stepped out from behind the wall, standing in the doorway that led into the hallway. You swallowed when you saw the glint of the knife in his hand, the latex mask on his face. His walls were back up but you didn’t take it personally. “Grilled cheese okay?” He stared at you before giving a slow nod. You tried to smile reassuringly. “Maybe he’ll get called into work.”

You pulled various cheeses out of the fridge before you paused. “He, um, he said you haven’t been killing lately?” You looked over at him, noting Michael’s eerie stillness. “You, um, you have been less bloody than usual. Is everything… okay?” It felt a bit weird, asking when he was going to kill another person again. Like it was just a casual hobby of his. Still, he just stared at you. “Just let me know if you’re starting up again soon, yeah? Dad told me Dr Loomis has been looking for you as well-“

With shocking speed, Michael approached you and held the knife to your throat. But you could see the tension in his shoulders and hand and you didn’t feel scared of him. The knife was another method of expression when he was with you.

Maybe you were just projecting onto him, but you got the impression that, deep down, he was scared of losing you.

“Michael,” your voice was soft, barely a whisper, “It’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You tried to reassure him. Slowly, your lifted your hand to hold his wrist, like he did with you.

His eyes bore holes into you and you swallowed. He wasn’t angry. At least not at you. If he was, he’d be pressing the knife in harder and threatening to break skin. This was just him holding it to your throat, trying to process what he was feeling.

The sound of the door swinging open with a bang had you both freezing. You tore yourself away from Michael to hurry to your dad, feeling sick at the sight of his horrified and furious expression. “W-what’s going-“

“Michael Myers was sighted earlier this evening.” His voice was shaking with restrained anger. “He was coming up this way, standing around our house.” He spun about, starting to close and lock windows. “Have you seen or heard anything?”

You swallowed around your lie. “No, no, nothing like that.” Watching your dad hurry about, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “D-did they say when?”

“About an hour and a half ago. One of our neighbors called it in.” He took his gun out of his holster and looked at you. “You’re sure you haven’t seen or heard anything?”

You just hoped your anxious look was interpreted as fear of a killer in the house and not fear your dad was going to be killed. He started marching around the house, searching for a sign. “Where’s your cat?”

“I- I don’t-“ You started.

“Dead, then.” Your dad said bluntly. “Myers is known for killing the pets first so they don’t sound an alarm of any kind.” He shot you a sympathetic look before resuming his search.

Your eyes drifted to the knife block, noting the single knife missing. Michael must have it. Swallowing, you followed your father upstairs. He was slamming open every door, pointing his gun at every little movement. First his bedroom down the end of the hall. The hallway closets, your bathroom, and then finally, up to your bedroom door.

The room was still, presumably empty. Though your closet door was slightly propped open.

Your dad held a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said softly before clicking off the safety in his gun and slowly, slowly creeping forward. Everything felt tense and you chewed anxiously on the nail on your thumb.

Out of the corner of your eye, down the hall, you spotted faint movement. The glint of the knife reflecting light from the setting sun leaking in from the bathroom window. You almost let out a sigh. How he was able to move around so quietly, you’d never know.

Your dad swung open the closet door. At the first sight of movement, he fired two shots.

Mayhem yowled, a sharp, piercing sound, and darted past your legs as he took off down the hall. His black fur had obscured him just enough your dad hadn’t gotten a clear enough shot. “MAYHEM!” You shrieked in horror, noting the slight amount of blood trailing behind the cat as he ran. The stuttered apologizing from your dad did nothing to quell your fears and you took off after Mayhem.

The blood trail went down the stairs and out through the little doggy door. Your heart sank and you swung the back door open, crying for Mayhem to come back. In the tall, mud-stained fields it was hard to see the blood or your black cat. When minutes ticked by with no response, you curled up in a ball on one of the lawn chairs, bare feet stained with grass and mud as you sobbed.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was there!” Your father explained from where he stood in the doorway of the house. “He’ll- he’ll come back-“

“You SHOT him!” You screamed, throat already sore from calling for Mayhem. “You SHOT him and now he might DIE out there!” You got up and shoved him in the chest, tears obscuring most of your vision.

He seemed taken aback, glaring. “Hey, it was an accident! I didn’t mean to shoot him, don’t blame this all on me. It wasn’t on purpose!” Your dad sighed and you stared at him, glaring daggers. “I’ve been working long hours and I got a call there was a killer in the house! I thought it was Myers!” He yelled, putting his gun back on his holster.

You saw red. “You SHOT my fucking CAT and that’s all you can say?! That it was an ACCIDENT?” You hit at his chest with clenched fists, like you were pounding on a door. “My cat is going to DIE because YOU can’t use your stupid fucking GUN-“

Your voice was cut off when your dad grabbed you by your arms and slammed you into the doorframe, the back door opened wider. You stared at him, blinking back tears as pain shot down your spine when you hit your head on the edge of the frame. “Listen,” he sighed, “I’ll get you a new cat. But I am stressed enough right now as it is. Let. It. Go.” He just seemed tired now, pleading with you to drop it long enough for him to find the Boogeyman.

Movement in the kitchen caught your attentions. Michael stood there, clenching his knife tight in his fist. His jumpsuit was on, still not fully cleaned and heavy with water. Your dad reached for his gun but Michael was quicker, storming forward and grabbing him by his neck. Your father was yanked away harshly from you and you didn’t even look at him, too stunned at your dad’s words.

“Get- get my gun!” He shouted at you as Michael dragged him into the kitchen, brandishing a knife and holding it to his neck. “C-c’mon get-!” His words were cut off when Michael slammed him to the ground, pressing his knee to your dad’s chest.

Slowly, reality came back to you and you looked over at the two. “Michael,” you said calmly, waiting for the dark pits of the masks’ eyes to focus on you, “I’m- I’m okay, I’m not hurt.” He tilted his head slowly, trying to figure out what you wanted from him. “J-just let him-“

When your dad got a grip on his gun, you acted without thinking. You hurried over and kicked his hand, yanking the handgun out and tossing it to the other side of the room. Michael pressed the tip of the knife to the man’s sternum and you could feel the anger and hatred radiating off of the masked man.

You stood over the two, arms around your middle as you looked between them. None of this felt real to you, not in any substantial way. It felt like a movie almost, a sick movie about a serial killer you felt attached to finally snapping and slaughtering your family because you let him get close.

Sliding to the floor, you curled up on yourself. Head resting on your knees as you silently wept.

Your dad must’ve processed things then: the now-silent washing machine upstairs that had been turned off when Michael got his jumpsuit, the lack of shoes on the Boogeyman’s feet, and his trust of you. “You’ve been hiding him here.” His voice dripped with malice. “You’ve been hiding the man I’ve been hunting. Right. Under my fucking nose!” He roared, struggling to get out from under Michael and wheezing when the other man just pressed his knee harder into his chest.

No point hiding it. “Yeah, yeah.” you sniffed. “I feed him and b-bandage him. H-he protected me…” Michael slowly turned his head and you assumed he was looking at you from over his shoulder. “W-we’re friends.”

Your dad stared at you as best he could from his place on the floor. “Maybe I s-should call Loomis, s-see if I can get you two joint rooms back in that f-fucking asylum!” He spat at you and Michael pressed the tip of the knife down, hot red blood oozing out.

You didn’t even bother entertaining a response.

“Y-you’re gonna- gonna let him KILL me?!” Your dad gasped, realizing you weren’t trying to stop Michael anymore.

You were quiet for a second, looking over and wincing at the sight of the blood. “You shot my cat and slammed me in a door.” You spat bitterly, wiping your teary eyes. Subconsciously, you’d come to terms that your dad was going to die as soon as he came in the door. It wasn’t like you could convince Michael to let him go at this point. He was protecting you from a threat, in his eyes.

So you just shut your eyes when Michael started stabbing.

The stench of bleach burnt your nose and made your eyes water as you cleaned the floor. Thank god the kitchen floor was a white linoleum like the bathroom. Michael was currently out of the house, killing the closest neighbor you had. She’d seen Michael with you and if your dad turned up dead and you lived, she’d be suspicious. You’d opened the windows to air out the kitchen as you stood up, wiping your brow.

The blood hadn’t stained, thankfully. You didn’t ask Michael what he’d done with the body. It would only serve to upset you. So he’d taken the body and left with your dad’s car, presumably to deal with it.

You clutched the handle of the mop and clenched your jaw. Things changed. You were an accomplice to Michael’s crimes now. Your father and Mayhem’s blood was gone, no evidence it had even been there. The knives were disinfected and cleaned, now all resting in the knife block. Michael was moving the body and, once he was done, he’d come home and you’d wash the blood from his hands and clothes.

It should upset you. Your own dad was just killed in front of you. The wet sounds of the knife plunging in and out of his chest still echoed in your mind. But you couldn’t even feel anything beyond anger that he’d shot Mayhem. And now your baby kitty was gone and it was all his fault.

The sounds of the door opening took you from your thoughts. You set the mop down in the now-empty bucket and went about moving it into the closet. You didn’t need to look up to know Michael was staring. He smelt of wet earth and blood and when you turned to look at him, he had his mask clenched in his hands. Blood covered his hands and mask where he gripped it.

“Are you okay?” You asked him. No response came but you knew one wouldn’t. He stepped towards you, flecks of dirt falling off his boots as he approached you. You tried not to flinch when he took your wrist but you knew he saw it. “Sorry,” you said quickly, “I should’ve done something to- to make him leave. Or-“

He cut you off with a harsh squeeze and you shut your eyes. A tug on your arm and you had to hold up your other arm to avoid him getting blood all over your clothes. You stared up at him, eyes wide in confusion.

Michael just stared at you. He wasn’t usually expressive with his face. Typically, he just stared at you with a blank face. Now, though, there was a softness to his eyes that wasn’t usually there. If you weren’t so familiar with his expressions, you wouldn’t know. But you were. You could see it.

He was worried about you.

“I’m- I’ll be okay,” you said, trying to reassure him. “It sucks now but… I knew it was inevitable. On some level…” Michael tilted his head slightly. “It was always going to be you or him. I choose you.” You felt your face warm up and you had to look away when you said that. It felt too revealing. Like he’d see your feelings on your face if he stared hard enough.

So you reached for the zipper on his clothes instead and slowly pulled it down. “Let’s- let’s get you into clean clothes-“ You let the bloody jumpsuit fall to the floor, pooling around his feet. You could have sighed at the little flecks of red that fell onto the freshly-cleaned floor. He had the shirt from earlier on with just boxers in place of the sweatpants. Michael didn’t move though, just continued to stare at you.

You blinked in confusion, looking up at him. “Michael?” Your question wasn’t answered when the taller man’s brow furrowed, searching your face for something. “Are you- okay?” The air in the room felt tense when he suddenly held you to his chest, letting go of your arm to put an arm around your waist. He seemed to relax when you blushed, his head tilting curiously.

He raised a bloody hand slowly, dragging one finger down across your cheek, marveling at the way it stained your skin. A red to match the blush on your cheeks.

Without warning, he stepped away and left you flustered in the kitchen. You stared at the empty space he once occupied and you only broke from your trance when you heard the shower running. Swallowing, you picked up his jumpsuit and took it upstairs to throw it back in the washing machine. The blood was still fresh so here’s hoping it wouldn’t stain.

With the floor cleaned up and Michael still upstairs, you felt a bit out of sorts still. Your cat was missing, your father was murdered, and the man responsible was upstairs showering. And you were going to be making him grilled cheese for dinner because that’s all you could emotionally handle.

Swallowing, a thought came to you. You took Mayhem’s food bowl and cracked open a can of tuna and poured the wet substance into the bowl. The sound made you gag but you knew Mayhem loved the stuff. He might come home if he smells food, right?

You set the bowl on the back door and winced when you remembered the kitty had trailed blood all through the house. The sun had set, the sky starting to take on the indigos of night time and you just hoped the raccoons didn’t get to the food before Mayhem did.

The cops came after about two days. When no one on the force had seen or heard your dad in a few days, they came to check. It wasn’t hard to play up the distress you felt. The five stages of grief hit harder than you expected. On the first day, you’d yelled at Michael and had hit your fists against his chest and he’d let you, just tilted his head when you’d sobbed against him. You’d wondered, briefly, how he had felt when his sister died.

“We found him dead. Stabbed in the throat in his car with your neighbor. Do you… know what was up with that?” The officer interviewing you asked.

You nodded through tears. You and Michael had briefly established your alibi and he’d set it up for you. “He- um. He came home and said- said he’d gotten a call from her. S-someone was s-stalking outside her house and s-she wanted a ride into town. T-to go to a hotel. W-when he never came home, I thought he went back to w-work… He’s- he’s been working so much I-“ You wept into your hands.

The officer gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry, kid.” He sighed. You’d recognized him when he’d come in with a few other officers. Michael had easily been named the killer so you weren’t a suspect. They didn’t know Michael was taking the opportunity to kill again. He’d left in his jumpsuit and mask, likely to return home to you for food again. He hadn’t left you alone at all the day after your dad died. He hovered in the corners of any room you stood in, held your wrist and arm if you were close enough.

Michael didn’t feel bad about it. You knew that wasn’t why he was touching you so much. He was scared of losing you, even if he wouldn’t let you see that.

You’d given your statement and the police left. With everything that had happened, you also wanted to get out of the house. You had work tomorrow and you wanted a moment without Michael’s eyes on you, if such a thing existed. So you’d gotten dressed into proper clothes, put some shoes on, and went into town. Maybe on another day you’d put in more effort but you knew the whole town would be looking at you. News reports of your dad’s crime scene would be all over the news, on the televisions and newspapers, and the officers who knew your father would be sharing stories in bars over drinks.

The thought of looking at the pet stores occurred to you. Maybe if Mayhem was gone for over a month, you’d consider it. You took your keys and got in your car to drive to town. No use walking. Plus, you didn’t want to find your feet leading you to the crime scene. The one you helped Michael commit. You should have told your dad he was there, should have gotten Michael to leave the house, should have knocked your dad unconscious and dragged him out to his car and called an ambulance… anything to have prevented the fate he’d been doomed to.

But you chose Michael. You didn’t regret your choice so much as feel guilty for how your choice had been made. A part of you knew that if Michael needed to skip town, you’d go with him. If he went back to the asylum, you’d go with him. The two of you were in this together now. A pact made in your father’s blood.

It shouldn’t give you butterflies the way it did.

You climbed out of your car when you parked outside a department store. Everything felt heavy as you stood up and made your way inside. The bright white lights illuminated aisles filled with clothes, toys, books, and food. A jack-of-all-trades kind of store. You walked the aisles without a goal in mind. Buying food would probably be a good idea if you had remembered to look at the fridge before you’d left. Maybe you’ll just wing it…

“Hey,” a soft voice interrupted your train of thought and you looked over your shoulder. Laurie Strode. She was only a year or two older than you. She still lived with her parents as she worked though you knew the paranoia of Michael stalking her never really went away.

“Oh, um, hi.” You stuttered inelegantly. “What- um-“

“I’m sorry,” she gave you a sympathetic look. “I heard about your dad… Michael is ruthless.”

You swallowed once. “Y-yeah. Thanks. I hope, um, you’re doing okay too.” You tried to give her a reassuring smile but you weren’t sure if it came out like a grimace.

Laurie just laughed, no joy behind her tight smile. “I’ll survive. Always do.”

The two of you said polite goodbyes and it left you feeling uneasy. It was easy for you to slip into a world where Michael was interested in you, a little bubble with just the two of you. Sure, you knew of his victims. Your own father had been made one right before your eyes. But it was jarring to be reminded that life existed outside your little house in the forest, that his actions had consequences that spread beyond just you.

It made you wonder if Michael’s intentions were what you thought they were. He’d never leave Haddonfield. Not willingly. He’d continue killing with or without you in his life.

And that knowledge made you feel sick.

Your dad’s funeral was mostly uneventful. A few of his work friends came to console you, some townspeople who definitely weren’t invited still showed up to give condolences. At some point, you even thought Laurie Strode left an apple pie for you before escaping without a word. Your dad had asked to be cremated when he died and have his ashes mixed with water. He wanted to be water used to help grow flowers on your late mother’s grave. It was a… unique way of wanting to be buried but you felt it was the least you could do.

Guilt still ate at you. He’d probably haunt you if he didn’t get to be united with your mom in some way. So you bought some daisies - her favorite - and brought them with his ashes and a water bottle to her grave. Haddonfield’s graveyard was nothing spectacular, just rows and rows of headstones. Some newer, some older and covered in moss and dirt. Your heart always ached seeing the forgotten ones.

You pointedly kept your head down when you passed Judith Myers’ grave. Her parents had a joint headstone beside hers, a spot they reserved for themselves about a year after she had died. Michael, they had insisted, deserved nothing less than no tombstone nor funeral.

It had been a horrible story. Even after their son was sent to Smith’s Grove, his parents had still received harsh criticism for some time. Even though the horrors of Michael’s crimes were the highlight, there was an underlying belief that the parents had some hand in it. That the neglect of their youngest drove him to acting out or that his mental illnesses going unchecked and unmedicated caused him to kill Judith. Their harsh criticisms of their own son made many skeptical.

When they’d died in a car crash two years after Judith had died, few turned up for the funeral. At the time, the town didn’t know what to think of the child who had killed and therefore the death of his parents just felt like a nail in a coffin somehow. The poor, unstable boy who now had no one waiting for him if he ever got out of Smith’s Grove. Many villainized him, of course, but some wanted him to recover. Some saw a traumatized child who needed help.

It was only after Michael broke out of Smith’s Grove and killed again that public opinion on him changed.

You pushed those thoughts aside and knelt before your mom’s grave. Digging up the damp earth - still wet from the rain earlier today - with your bare hands, you took the daisies out from their little pots and lay them in the hole made for them. With the dirt patted down, you barely winced at the dirt under your nails and staining your hands. You liked gardening, after all. This was hardly different from that. So, you opened the jar of your dad’s ashes and carefully, carefully, poured them in with the water.

It felt a bit weird. But it was his wishes. After everything, the least you could do was honor that. Besides, you didn’t really think you could cope having the jar of his ashes in the house you’d let him die in. So you poured the water over the flowers and sat there with the bottle once it was empty.

Talking to your mom’s gravestone had never been a habit of yours. You’d seen people do it before, your dad used to do it for your mom. There was just little appeal in it for you. It felt weird, talking to air. And you weren’t going to start now. But you did have a small, internal conversation that you hoped your mom would be happy to see him and that you wouldn’t be too upset if she hated you for what happened.

She’d died when you were young and you never knew her well. The concept of a mother meant more to you than who she was. Growing up, you’d looked at your friends’ parents and had felt a sting that you didn’t have a mom. But you didn’t particularly care for the woman buried beneath your feet. She was, essentially, a stranger. Your dad knew her better than you but you’d never brought that up with him. He’d always go on and on about how much you looked like her, how similar you two were, that sort of crap.

Now, staring at her headstone, you wondered what she’d think of you.

The feeling of eyes on you had become commonplace for you now. An is-ness rather than a concern. So you didn’t even bother lifting your head. Just crossed your arms and folded up your legs, staring at the headstone surrounded by daisies. “Do you ever miss them?” You asked aloud. You knew Michael was close enough to hear. “Your parents, I mean. I doubt you miss your sister, I heard about what you did with her stone when you killed those high schoolers.”

The silence was deafening. Only the soft sounds of birds broke the stillness.

“I’m trying to decide how I feel,” you confessed. “I never knew my mother so I can never miss her. She was never part of my life.” You swallowed. Maybe it was harsh, but it was always an internal thought you’d wanted to verbalize. If Michael Myers had to be the one to hear your confessions, at least you knew he wouldn’t tell anyone. “But I don’t know how I feel about my dad dying. Not yet. I feel like my mother and I always competed for him. He always spoke so highly of her and loved her even after death. Even when I was there and needed his attention.” You wiped your eyes and sniffed.

You cleared your throat. “It’s weird. I feel like sometimes he wished I had died and she had lived. I haven’t decided if I fault him for that yet. She was his wife before I was his kid after all…” You looked over your shoulder, noting Michael standing only a few feet away, eyeholes in his mask staring at you. “Do you ever think about if your parents wished Judith lived and you had died? Or do you think they wished they never had you?” It was hard to choke back your sobs then, curling in on yourself to let you cry.

The soft rustle of grass beside you was the only indicator he was sitting beside you, criss-crossed in the damp grass in front of your mom’s grave. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to.

He just let you cry in front of the daisies.

#🔪 creeps writes #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #halloween 1978 #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #michael myers

[total-fandom-tr45h]

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Us

Siren reader x DCA

CW; Inhumane treatment of the reader

Chapter 1

Sun and Moon were not told much about why they had been transferred from the Fazbear Aquarium to the remote facility they were being led through, but they did know that they were needed because some sort of animal caused a horrific incident and was deemed dangerous to humans. So when you can’t use humans, throw the robots to the sharks, apparently.

Sun picked nervously at the cuffs of his jumpsuit, the fabric starting to fray from his actions as Moon walked silently beside him. Following the guard through dimly lit tunnels, they eventually came to a heavy metal door with a scanner to one side and what seemed to be many heavy locks. The guard turned to the bots, a bored expression upon his tired features. “Alright, here we are. Remember, this creature is deadly, so don’t feel bad if you have to use more force with it, although it should be incapacitated. You’ll get access to the door locks if everything goes well, so don’t fuck this up.”

Sun held back his urge to scold the man about his language, gripping his sleeves tightly while Moon just watched the man’s every move. The guard swiped a card across the scanner and it beeped, showing a green light. The doors sprung to life, slowly unlocking and pulling apart, making way for the three to enter.

The room they entered was slightly brighter than the tunnels had been, but not by much. There was nothing particularly exciting about the room, other than the massive tank in the center, a large metal grate covering the top. There was a sparse amount of aquatic plants and corals decorating the sandy bottom of the tank, and it looked like a few small fish darted in between rocks that accompanied the few decorations. The tank itself was twice Sun and Moon's height, and was twice as long as it was tall. The width couldn’t be told from where they were standing, it had to match the length or be slightly smaller, given the size of the room. 

Above the tank there was a catwalk, a small flight of stairs leading down to a platform just below the water’s surface. Something resting on the platform caught Sun’s attention- it looked to be some kind of large fish, but his scanners couldn’t identify what species it was, which greatly confused him. It was unmoving on the platform, and there seemed to be remnants of food near it, suggesting it had been fed. “Oh good, it’s still out. Alright, your job is to get up there, get it out of the water, and bring it into the lab.” The guard pointed to a door off to the left, which had a small sign next to it that read ‘Lab’. 

The boys nodded before ascending to the catwalk, remaining silent the entire time. Upon reaching the platform Sun let out a gasp, covering his mouth. Lying motionless in the water was a- mermaid? No, it wasn’t like a mermaid from stories, it was more animal-like. A siren? 

The upper body was human looking, while the lower portion was a very long tail, probably somewhere around 8ft long with posterior and anterior dorsal fins. At the junction where scales faded into flesh there were two pelvic fins that almost looked like a skirt, matching the look of the rest of the fins. The siren’s chest was obscured by scales, making it look like it was wearing some sort of wrap around top. Three gill slits lay atop of the ribcage, and they fluttered with the slow breathing of the siren. It had claws at the end of its fingers, and a barely visible webbing between each digit. The face was very different from a fairy tale mermaid, that was for sure. While it had hair and mostly normal features, there were a few that stood out. One was the fact that where the ears should be there were two fins that were the same color as the tail fins, and the second were the eyes. The eyes were a bright teal color with a slit-like pupil, and currently they were unfocused, as the siren was in a daze. 

Disturbingly, there was some sort of metal collar wrapped around the siren’s neck, and various scratches were visible around the collar. Sun didn’t have time to worry though, as Moon stepped onto the platform and grabbed the siren under the arms, lifting it carefully. Sun scrambled into the few inches of water and picked up the tail, and the two hauled the siren up and out of the water. It twitched at the movement, making a weak hissing noise as its eyes darted around, still hazy and unfocused. “Let’s go.” Moon grumbled, and Sun nodded, walking backwards down the stairs to the lab. 

Upon entering the lab the siren began to twitch violently, seeming to be waking up from its dazed state. A scientist ushered the celestial bots over to a very long table that seemed to be custom built for the siren judging by the length. “Set her here, and be fast! We have to restrain her and sedate her quickly.” The man said, seeming almost panicked. The two obliged, laying the siren out on the table as instructed. As soon as they stepped away another scientist pressed a button on a control panel, and mechanical sounds echoed through the room as some unseen machine came to life. 

Without warning metal cuffs came up from the table, latching around various points on the siren’s body with loud clanks. Arms, chest, waist, neck, and various points on the tail were restrained with the heavy metal cuffs just in time as the siren began to thrash, hissing and growling. Another scientist approached with something in their hands and the siren snapped at them, causing them to jolt before jumping towards her, pressing something onto her face. She shrieked as the scientist fumbled with something before stepping back, looking relieved. A muzzle had been strapped to the siren’s face, a protective barrier between flesh and sharp teeth. 

A needle was pushed into the siren’s arm as she growled, the liquid injected quickly. It didn’t take long for it to start working, and soon the siren’s limited movements got slower until they went still entirely, her eyes half closed and unfocused. “You two wait outside, we’ll let you know when to take her back.” The man who had put the muzzle on instructed, so Sun and Moon quietly left to room, standing outside the door. Sun picked at his sleeves again, shuffling his feet while Moon stared off into space with a disinterested look on his face. 

“It’s horrible… how they’re treating her. She’s obviously scared…” Sun muttered, breaking a string off his left cuff. Moon sighed, looking over at his brother. 

“Listen, I know you want to care for every creature we encounter, but they said this one was dangerous. Even if it is scared, there’s nothing we can do about it.” Sun grumbled, pulling at another loose thread. 

“I know…..” Sun trailed off, thinking. 

After about an hour one of the scientists came out of the lab, carrying a tray of blood samples. “Alright, here’s how this is going to go. You two should now have remote access to the controls for the restraints. Wait until everyone has left the room before bringing the siren back to her enclosure, and keep the muzzle ON until she’s in the water. Once she’s in and the muzzle is removed, close and lock the protective grate. You will need to stay to make sure she wakes up properly, and after that come out into the hall. Someone will show you where your designated charging room is.” After speaking the man left, soon followed by the rest of his colleagues. 

Sun and Moon entered the lab, and Sun frowned at the sight he saw. Various places on the siren’s skin were scraped, a few scales had obviously been pulled off from various places on the tail, and the restraints seemed to be cutting into her flesh a bit. A notification popped up in the corner of Sun’s vision, letting him know he now had access to the controls and he immediately released the restraints. 

The machinery hissed and clanked as the cuffs were released, showing that there were now various lacerations across the siren’s body where each one had been, aside from the neck which had been partially protected by the collar. Sun went to her head, and his fingers twitched, wanting to take the muzzle off right then and there but he had to follow orders. He gently picked up the siren’s upper half while Moon grabbed her tail, and they carried her limp body out of the lab and back to the platform of the enclosure. They set her down in the water and Moon stepped out, allowing Sun to remove the muzzle. 

The muzzle had been strapped so tightly that there were marks where the straps and cage had been, and Sun grimaced at the sight, rubbing them gently without thinking as his previous care protocol that had been suppressed forced its way out. “Sun, c’mon.” Moon snapped Sun out of his thoughts and the solar animatronic jerked his hand back, whispering an apology to the siren before scrambling out of the water and up onto the catwalk. Moon activated something wirelessly, and a scraping metal sound filled the room as a metal grate appeared from under the catwalk and began to cover the tank, locking the siren in. Once the grate was fully over the tank Moon sat down, crossing his legs and placing an elbow on his knee, resting his head in his palm. 

Sun followed suit, keeping an eye on the siren as he sat, fiddling with the muzzle he still held in his hands. After a few minutes the siren began to stir, her eyes still hazy as she looked around and began chirping and clicking, sounding almost like a dolphin or beluga whale. When she got no response she repeated the sounds, confusion on her face. As she became more aware of her surroundings, she stopped calling out, as if she remembered she was alone. That hurt for Sun to watch; she had been trying to find others of her kind in her sedated confusion. The siren then spotted Sun and Moon, letting out a low growl as she backed off the platform into the open water, eyes trained on the two animatronics. 

The boys remained perfectly still as she seemed to be observing them for suspicious activity. The siren started when Moon moved to stand and she darted into the depths of the tank, swimming quickly over to a small cave that was hidden from the rest of the room by coral. That was good, at least they gave her some sort of place where she could feel safe. Sun sighed and stood up, following Moon as he left the catwalk and headed towards the door. Sun made a detour to the lab, putting the muzzle on the <em>horrible</em> table, shuddering with disgust before joining his brother to exit the room. 

There was a woman waiting outside for them, and she gave a sheepish smile as they exited, the door hissing shut behind them. “You must be the wranglers! I’m Lisa, I’ll be showing you where your room is.” She said a little excitedly, which caught both bots off guard. “Before I do that, what are your names? I’m going to be in charge of your maintenance, so I wanted to know if you had something you prefer to be called by.” Sun and Moon blinked, looking at each other before looking back at Lisa. She was treating them like they were people, not just mindless robots. It was nice. 

Sun spoke first. “I’m Sun, and this is my brother Moon.” He gestured to the lunar bot when he said his name and Lisa nodded, seeming to take a mental note.

“Very fitting names, I like it! Alright Sun and Moon, if you follow me I’ll show you the way to your room!” She said before turning around, facing the opposite way they had come from to continue down the poorly lit tunnel. The two followed the woman down the hall a ways until she came to another door, this one still being metal but not as heavy or tightly locked as the one to the siren’s enclosure. Lisa opened the door with a flourish, and stepped into the room. “Ta-da! This is where you boys will be living from now on. The institute needs you as close as possible to the siren’s room, in case of an emergency. If there’s anything you’d like to add to the room to make you guys feel more at home, just ask me and I’ll get what I can.” 

The room was a decent size, certainly bigger then their room above the daycare at the pizzaplex had been. The walls were surprisingly not cement but drywall, painted a boring grey color that matched the cement floor. There were two beds, one on either side of the room, as well as two tables with chairs, lamps, and nightstands. There were many outlets on the walls, in various places for easy accessibility. Sun walked over to one of the beds and sat on it, the metal frame creaking a little as it got used to the new weight. Oddly enough, the beds seemed to be the right size for them, as if they were custom made to accommodate their tall frames. “I think we’re good for now, thank you Ms. Lisa.” Sun said, forcing a small smile on his face as Moon walked to the table on the opposite side of the room from Sun and pulled out the chair, sitting down. 

The woman nodded then walked to the door, pausing on the threshold to turn around. “Oh, there are pens, pencils and paper in the drawers of each nightstand, just in case you guys get bored. And before I forget, you guys are allowed to explore the tunnels, just don’t go into restricted rooms. You shouldn’t be able to get in them, but I’m obligated to give you that warning. Curfew is 11pm. Have a good night, and again let me know if you want anything to spruce this place up. It’s awfully gloomy.” She then left, closing the door behind her.

“This is way better than the daycare or the aquarium, and it seems a little suspicious.” Moon remarked, steepling his fingers together as his elbows rested on his knees. “Why are we being treated so nicely? There’s something we don’t know going on here.” 

Sun rolled his eyes, reaching into the nightstand to grab a pencil and some paper before walking to his table, plopping down in the chair. “Don’t think too much about it, Moon. At least they aren’t treating us like dumb robots.” He muttered as he started to draw. He had been programmed to draw like a child when coloring with the kids in the daycare, but in actuality he was an incredible artist. He began to sketch the siren, using a photo he had taken as she was waking up from sedation as reference. 

“Whatever.” Moon grumbled, getting up from the chair to flop on his bed, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. 

Sun couldn’t help but feel pity for the siren. She was treated like some terrible creature who was aggressive on purpose, but when Sun watched her vitals as she woke up from sedation, she seemed to be more scared than anything. The siren was acting aggressively as a defense mechanism. “Poor thing… she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way…” Sun muttered, continuing his drawing. 

“Poor thing my ass. She killed and ate someone, Sun.” 

Sun dropped his pencil, spinning in his chair to face his brother. “What?! What do you mean she ATE someone?!” 

Moon sat up, his faceplate rotating once. “I looked at the incident reports they have on file. The reason we were brought in is because that siren killed someone and ate part of their body.” 

Sun’s whole body shook, images of mangled corpses flashing through his thoughts. Moon spoke again, snapping Sun out of the depressing tangent he was going off on. “The guy left the grate on top of the tank open, so he had it coming for being so careless. After the incident they put on a collar that can send a paralyzing jolt of energy through the siren’s body. It seems the voltage can be adjusted though…” Moon trailed off, and Sun turned back to his paper, staring at the half drawn picture of the siren.

He furrowed his brows, frowning. So what if she killed someone and ate them? She was in a place she didn’t belong, having horrible tests done to her, and she was probably incredibly scared. Sun slammed his hands down on the table and stood, a look of determination on his face. “I am going to show her that not everything is horrible.” 

Moon tilted his head in curiosity, snickering in doubt. “And how are you gonna do that, Sunny? That thing probably doesn’t understand human language.” 

Sun snapped his head around to glare at his brother, his body shortly following suit as he stepped away from the table. “You don’t know that, Moon. She could be able to perfectly understand every word ever said to her, and nobody would know because they haven’t bothered to care! No tests have been done to see what her intelligence level is.” Sun had skimmed through the testing records, only finding blood, DNA, and other types of tests involving her body, but not her mind. 

“I am going to become her friend, and hopefully I’ll be able to help her feel a little more at ease.” Sun walked over to the door, flinging it open as Moon groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Go ahead, do whatever. I’m not gonna stop ya, but don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble. I don’t think I could move her by myself.” Sun just waved off Moon’s warning as he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. With determination and confidence in his every step Sun walked the short distance to the siren’s enclosure room, pausing for a moment in front of the door. Lisa didn’t say he couldn’t go back in, only that he couldn’t go into areas he didn’t have access to, and he knew he now had access to this room. 

Taking in a deep breath he didn’t need, Sun waved his palm across the scanner, fearing it wouldn’t. He let out a sigh of relief when the scanner beeped and the light turned green, and the doors opened for him. 

The room was eerily silent, except for the faint hum of a water filtration system. The siren had been swimming in circles when he entered, and as soon as she noticed Sun she hid behind some rocks, keeping a close eye on him. Sun smiled at her, slowly walking to the stairs leading up to the catwalk. The siren’s eyes watched his every move, but she didn’t move from her spot, opting to just observe what he did. 

Upon reaching the catwalk Sun headed to the platform, sitting on the second to last step, putting his feet into the water on the platform. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. I just want to be your friend.” He said in a soothing, soft voice, watching the siren’s body language and vitals. Her heart was beating fast, likely in fear as she watched him just sit there. 

After what felt like an eternity the siren moved, approaching Sun slowly. He moved his head slightly to see her better, which caused her to dart back to her hiding spot. Sun sighed, and stayed perfectly still to wait for her to approach again. He hummed quietly, and soon enough the siren began approaching again. “Hello.” Sun said softly, which caused the siren to stop, but not retreat. 

She eyed Sun for a moment before finally coming up to the platform, sticking the top half of her head and face above the water. She tentatively got closer until she was only a couple feet away from Sun’s feet (pun intended). Sun watched as the siren carefully reached out with a finger to- poke his boot covered foot. She snapped her arm back quickly as if she had been burned, but didn’t swim away. Sun smiled at her actions, and couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “It’s okay, I won’t do anything to hurt you.��� He said reassuringly, hoping she understood what he was saying. 

It seemed she did understand him, as she brought her entire head above the surface of the water, feeling a little more confident. Sun cheered internally at the progress, and decided to try and go further by slowly bending over to lower his hand through the grate, close to the water. The siren hesitated for a moment before reaching out, grazing the surface of his hand with her claws. Upon seeing that he didn’t scream or pull away, she gently grabbed his hand in both of hers, being careful as she turned it over, trailing the pads of her fingers along the seams of Sun’s joints and the little squishy pads on his hands that helped him detect pressure more accurately. 

The feeling of the siren’s fingers ghosting across his palm made Sun giggle, his fingers twitching. The siren let go of his hand quickly and backed up, pulling her hands to her chest and looking up at Sun as if she expected some form of punishment. If Sun had a real heart, it would be aching. “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong! It just felt ticklish.” He reassured the siren, not sure if she would understand what being ticklish is.

Luckily she did seem to understand, as she got closer once again and grabbed his hand, prodding at the palm pad gently before trailing up to his wrist joint, tracing the seams. Keeping his hand still, Sun lowered himself down onto the bottom step, straightening his legs out a bit so they weren’t pushed up into his chest. The siren didn’t seem to pay attention to his movements as she was inspecting his wrist, moving his hand up, down, and in circular motions. He stretched his arm closer to her, startling her and causing her to snap her head to look in his direction, fear and worry on her face. 

“Sorry, sorry! I just thought you’d wanna be able to check out more of my arm.” He explained, feeling bad that he scared her. The siren looked relieved as she nodded before focusing her attention back on Sun’s hand. She pushed his sleeve up on his arm, following the seams of his plating and seeming to marvel at the silicone covering, poking at it and watching it give under the pressure of her hands only to go back to normal when she removed them. Sun got an idea, and he turned his hand so his palm faced her, fingers splayed apart. The siren looked at him in confusion, then lifted one of her hands to match their palms together. 

Her clawed hand was dwarfed by his hand, and this seemed to intrigue her as she blinked rapidly, scooting her hand around against his as if to try and make it fit. Sun laughed at her antics, and the siren looked at him, giving him-

A smile. 

It was a small, shy smile, but a smile nonetheless. Looking at the time, Sun decided he had been there long enough for the day. He took his hand from the siren, moving to stand up as she watched him, tilting her head in curiosity. “Sorry, but I have to go. I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” He offered her a small smile, and she seemed to ponder his words for a moment before nodding. “Alright, See y-” 

Before he could finish the siren dove back beneath the surface of the water, swimming into her cave. Sun sighed and shook the water off his boots before heading down off the catwalk. When he got to the doors he stopped and turned to see the siren watching him from the coral hiding the cave entrance. He gave her a wave, and she looked confused before reciprocating. 

With a sigh Sun left the room, watching the door lock behind him before heading back to he and Moon’s room. Moon looked up from his bed when Sun entered, and he lifted a brow. “So, how did it go?” 

Sun smiled, kicking off his wet boots before sitting on his bed. “It went pretty well, I think she trusts me! Well, at least a little.” 

Moon sat up to face his brother and tilted his head, actually curious now. “And what makes you think that?” 

Sun held out his hand palm up, tracing along his fingers the same way the siren had. “She actually came up to me and sat there messing with my hand like this. She seemed a bit confused but curious.”

Moon nodded, humming softly. “Makes sense, she’s probably never seen an animatronic before. Did she seem to understand anything you said?” 

Sun nodded enthusiastically, his rays doing a spin around his head. “Yes, she did!! She even responded to me, even though it was only nodding. But still, that proves she’s not just a dumb animal! She’s probably more human than those scientists think.” 

Moon nodded again, looking rather impressed. “Huh, that’s pretty cool…” 

Sun gasped, leaning forward to snatch his brother’s hand, holding it while grinning excitedly. “You should come with me tomorrow! That way, you can see just how much she understands. If I were to tell anyone by myself they would probably brush me off, but if both of us see it and record it, then they’ll have to believe us!” 

Moon rubbed the back of his head, looking to the side. “I dunno Sun, that seems a little ambitious. They could say we made a fake video or something…” Sun tutted, letting go of his hand to reach out and flick Moon’s forehead. 

“Don’t be a Negative Nancy, Moony. I know you’ll change your mind once you see it happen.” Sun’s rays spun around his head once more before he stood, heading back to the table and sitting down to finish his drawing. 

“Mmmmhh, we’ll see…” Moon muttered before laying back down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

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

You swam in circles aimlessly around your tank, thinking back to the interaction you had just a few minutes ago. A strange metal creature with pointy things coming out of their head had come to you, sitting at the platform and saying they wanted to be your friend, which confused you. You had killed someone and ate them, why would they want to be friends with you? That was something you would just have to silently ponder, as you really had no way to communicate with them. They didn’t seem to understand when you spoke, which was frustrating to you. 

But, they had promised to return tomorrow, which made you smile to yourself as you continued to swim. 

A friend.

Your friend.

#Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Us #daycare attendant au #daycare attendant x reader #ghostis aus #ghostis fanfics #siren au

[hyperionswrath-a]

"Is there anything you haven't told us?"

Quistis doesn't particularly like being in the DC penitentiary, but it's not like she's got a choice, and it's not like Seifer's allowed to leave, clad as he is in the blood-red jumpsuit with a number stenciled on the breast pocket.

So, she sits across from him, a tablet and his file opened in front of her, and reminds herself that she's doing this for him, not just as a favor to Xu. Garden has been generous in the years since the war ended-- it's not like she's a newly-minted lawyer anymore, a dozen trials and countless settlements between Garden operatives and the jurisdictions they had upset in the line of duty under her belt.

She can't help but wonder, though, if this might be easier for everyone to just let him stay here and rot.

"Because now is not the time to hide any information, Seifer. I need every detail you have." -charmenerveux

@charmenerveux

Just like Seifer has been pondering - maybe if he just stayed behind and let the Galbadians have their will, the rest of them could finally get some sense of normality back instead of constantly jumping through hoops just to keep him somewhat… safe. Of course such ponderings are not the kind that Seifer Almasy would openly show, none of the others are for the wiser about his attitude that he very much seems to expect just that - everyone jumping hoops because he is damn well worth the effort. Not that he needs to play pretend much anyway, no one ever asks what he thinks to begin with. Just like during the war, they made up their mind about him and from thereon out just assume. Fine by him. When Quistis inquires further, some of his already thin patience slips and he huffs in annoyance, running both shackled his hands through his blond hair and brushing it back in the same motion, before his elbows land on the table that separates them as he slightly leans in, head tilted, brow quirked. “Seriously Trepe, what does it even matter? Let Caraway have his Caraway, they already made up their mind. And you bailing me outta here won’t change jack shit ‘bout it. If he can’t get me now he’ll try ‘n get me another time.” I sacrificed his daughter to Adel, for fuck’s sake. That last part is not spoken out loud and he instead shakes his head, huffing again. Quistis should know he is right, there is no way that the General would stay off his warpath. Not just because of Rinoa which on its own is a valid enough reason in Seifer’s book, but also because he lost good men, fellow Galbadians in that war. Their blood is on Seifer’s hands. “But to answer your question - I told ya all I know. It was a boring ass boat ride up until we reached that small bend right at the end of it, almost made it out. I told Mi- … Xu it might be a good idea to take the river because we could use some men to sneak up on the rebels asses if we circle them. Best laid plans ‘n all…” He falls silent for a long moment, then slowly leans back, his expression almost calm for the first time in Hyne knows when. “This don’t look good for me Quistis an’ you know it. Might as well just play the part of the villain again.”

#charmenerveux #⦗ 𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖙 𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖉𝖘𝖎𝖉𝖊 ╰ trials and tribulations ⦘

[yyukhei]

Not saying it's true or isn't but for the Johnny thing, don't a lot of people feed those they're close to? I've seen a lot of idols share food with staff and I don't see what the big deal is. fttm0 is really asking for a slap, I don't even wanna be nice because someone like her does not deserve any kindness. Especially the amount of torment she's put YY and LC through. I don't know if this is from fttm0 or another ssng, but there was a photo of Taeil allegedly smoking but they put a huge emoji to cover something up and you can't really see Taeil fully or what he's actually holding. A lot of people think he's holding his phone and put it on speaker. That already makes that pic look suspicious and screams manipulation. The problem is that this photo was taken and edited to make it look incriminating(?)–not the word I'm looking for but the only one I can think of. I really can't fathom how former ssngs confess how they were normal before and grew obsessed. Like no, honestly I don't believe that. If that were true, then almost all fans would be this obsessed. These people have been bored since the beginning have since found an outlet to dim their boredom in fandom. They need fucking therapy and/or a nice orange jumpsuit. I'm sick and tired of these self proclaimed fans who are notorious for lying to defame their "faves". Ssngs are not fans. Not at all. They are parasites because once they get bored of that idol, they will move onto another to torment because they are simply bored. I fucking hate these people.

I agree 100% with everything you said. I just wish with everything in my soul that ppl would stop supporting these sasang, bc let’s be honest, if their stalking photos didn’t get thousands of likes and ppl didn’t eat up all the private info they drop (flight schedules, hotel bookings, etc) they would just get bored and do something else.

It’s no wonder these fake accusations and manipulated photos are treated as the truth only when it aligns with someone’s personal prejudices.

Why is it so hard to believe real fans are skeptical of accusations when Photoshop and Deepfakes exist? We seriously can’t just treat everything at face value just bc our moral instinct is always to trust the accuser. It’s innocent until to proven guilty in America for a reason. Because ppl weaponize anything they can against those they hate. It’s the sad reality of the world we live in now. It doesn’t make you morally superior in a court case if you always believed the accuser from the beginning. It just makes you subjective.

We have a serious issue in many countries where idols personal lives are treated as public entertainment. It’s not okay to harass and follow someone when they’re not working. That’s their private time to rest, even in public. And YES I understand how celebrities expect this kind of treatment, but what kind of career is one where your fans would literally try to rip the hair off your head to sell on Etsy later? (I’m referring to a Nicki Minaj incident) where you sign an autograph and it gets sold? Or you give someone something special you performed with and see it for sale later? Wouldn’t every interaction feel like a money grab? It would be extremely hard to feel a connection with fans when you don’t know who is genuine.

I saw someone got sent a misprinted version of Taylor’s new vinyl album and the comments were FULL of people saying to sell it for 8x the price she bought it for. Like why is that your first thought? You received something rare that makes you a unique fan, and ppls first thoughts were money?

Idk, there’s just something about fan culture that has gone so wrong. At least on tumblr, I remember YEARS ago that ppl refused to share paparazzi pics and anything leaked from a celebs personal life. But now not only are pap pics acceptable, but fansites photos run by sasang are as well?

I pray ppl start standing up for these idols before we lose any more of them.

#ask #answered #anon #johnny #taeil #lucasconfessions #lucas #Yukhei

[gesu-ko]

Three Musketeers

#bnha #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #bkdk #deku #kacchan #bakudeku #tododeku #todobaku #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero acdemia #todobakudeku #those black uniforms for that maybe new movie teaser be looking fine tho #Todo should keep this uniform but make it blue #his normal one is kind of boring it's just a jumpsuit #I mean it's a glow up from the white dress shirt and pants lol #gesu art #tdbkdk

[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

#peacemaker #peacemaker x reader #peacemaker x you #Christopher smith #dceu smut #dceu fanfiction #I don't know what happened; I had ideas for some dialogue between peacekeeper and reader and it turned into thiS #peacemaker smut #smut #mywords*

[internalsealpanic]

You’re Insane Too

Summary:  You are Two-Face’s new doctor. The introduction goes as well as expected. a/n: For the second day of the second month of the year 2022 :) This is a prequel fic to all of my Harvey fics.  warning: Violence and honestly questionable choices. 

You poke your little cactus gingerly, wondering what you should name them. Phenning was the name on the top of your list mainly cus of its short stature and its pale color. It confounded you that the cacti in the dessert were always such vivid shades of green. In your mind, your reserved lushness for forests but maybe a personal bias. Hnnnn, you should work on those. After all, in your profession biases and assumptions can be lethal.  

 You stand up, still staring at your little friend. They also kind of look like a Frankford. You place him on top of your filing cabinet and tilt your head. Maybe you should think of names that aren't from the book you're reading. That would probably help. 

 You scroll through the dozens of names in your head, adjusting the ribbon on the pot, when a knock comes at your door. You jolt and spin on your heel. A second knock reminds you that you haven't answered verbally. 

 Instead of finding your voice, you just decide to open the door. You're too nervous to say anything right now so yeah. The guard looks at you with a frown and the frankly condescending sigh he gives you helps you find your voice. 

 "Could you bring the patient in and wait outside?"

 The orderly behind the guard levels you a concerned look. You wave them inside. Most of the men are large but the patient they’re bringing in towers over you and eclipses you with his broad form easily. It occurs to you that he could put you through the wall easily.  You understand why they were so concerned. Dr. Arkham did send you a particularly violent patient to test you out and probably to ensure he wins the bet.

 Your own maniacal laugh rings in your head even as the man glares at you with one lush green eye that reminds you of what a cactus should look like and another bulging and yellow like something is trying to push it out. Outwardly, you cup your hand over your mouth, realizing you've forgotten to brew coffee that would calm your nerves and help you deal with your difficult patient. Technically, you're not allowed to but technically, you should also not be mass producing a very addictive substance and asserting its place into the daily routine of normal citizens. You think. 

You're brought out of your thoughts by the guard clearing his throat. "Will this be all Dr. (L/n)?"

 "Yes, thank you."

 "We'll be just outside the door," the orderly says more to the patient than you. The patient, Harvey, grunts in response. 

 You huff as you close the door. Eyes bore into your back as you close the door gently. You want to snap at him to quit it but that is ultimately counterproductive, so you let it be as you move through the room.

 The man squints as you carefully make your way behind your desk, bewildered by your relaxed disposition. Meds, he guesses. He could use some right now. He can still taste the blood in his teeth. He can't really tell if it's his or if it's from the man he ground into paste in the cafeteria. He wipes it off with the sleeve of his jumpsuit he doubts he got it all and it's not like the scarred tissue of his face could tell. 

 When you reel back from your desk, you brandish a little silver key and the large man has to raise a brow. Your brows knit when you take him in for the first time.  It catches you off guard more than you're willing to admit. 

 Disheveled is the first word you think of,  immediately preceded by handsome then proceeded by bleeding. You frown, looking at his injuries, then your head jolts down when you realize you've been starring at him. You try looking at him again, face still hot, this time concentrating on the scarred half of his face and ignoring the handsomeness of his features. He glares at you. Your skin doesn't crawl from the look, so you proceed but your face doesn't get any better. 

 Harvey observes you as sit down in front of him, trying to glean whatever trick you’re planning.  You're disgusted by his face. He can tell so easily and it makes his skin boil from anger. That quick glance? Ha! You think he didn't notice? You're a bigger fool than the last doctor but that's not the end of it, something about you just rankles him. The scars on his face throb. Something about the airy way you talk makes Harvey want to smash your face in even as his 'better' half pleads with him not to.

"I'm Dr. (L/n). I'll be your therapist til Dr. Hathaway comes back," you explain, reaching the restraints on his ankles. The scarred side raises a brow. It occurs to you that you should explain what you're doing.  You begin your long-winded explanation but Harvey tunes it all out with skill he acquired from being held up in Arkham too many times. “I specialize in...”

 Click.

“... Dr. Arkham has advised me that this method of treatment is...”

 Click.

 “... and we agreed that the best course of action...”

 Click.

 Harvey rubs his wrists as the cuffs fall away. 

 You're still talking, not looking at him, eyes still trained on something else when you turn your head. You bare your neck to him taunting him, telling him he can’t do a damn thing. He's going to crush that pretty little throat of yours, he decides. You’ll learn not to be so stupid around men like him. 

 "The long and short of it is that Dr. Arkham has allowed me license to keep my patients unrestrained--"

 A large hand wraps around your throat, crushing you into the wall behind you. You gag, gasp, splutter, and flail with a sudden surge of panic. The air in your chest prickles like needles. You’re painfully aware of the construction of your body-- the brittle bones, the soft flesh, and tender muscle, all alive and screaming as the oxygen in your blood begins to evaporate along with your sense of safety. 

 Your throat is delicate under his grip, expanding and contracting as you breathe. It would take less than ten pounds of pressure to crush your throat. He gets a bit of a kick from that, quite literally holding your life in his hand. The muscles in his forearms ripple as he tries to control the urge to crush your throat. 

 You finally look at him dead on. You're wild-eyed and terrified as you should be but the foggy feeling in his chest doesn't ease. It should. He's gotten his point across but there is something halfhearted and careful about the way you fight his grip as if he was the one who should be scared right now like he's the startled animal instead of the useless moron hopelessly clawing at his hand. It makes him bristle even more. 

 He pries you away from the wall only to slam you back against it. Your skull thuds against it and there is something oddly satisfying about how you gag for air.

 Breathe.

 Breathe. 

 Breathe.

 You stare at each other with your still, clawing and kicking. Harvey presses his thumb over your carotid artery, digging his nail into your skin.  He relishes the way you go still. Your wild panic distills into a more focused kind of fear. 

 "Well Doc, feel safe yet?" He asks, angling his face so you can focus on the freakish half of his face. He wonders if you'll squirm more once you get to focus on the puckered lines of his face, wonders if you'll beg not to ruin your face like his was. He figures he could at least break your nose. 

 But despite the edge to his question, your expression turns completely placid. You search his face calmly them and Two-Face feels unnerved, almost enough to drop you. 

 You tap his wrist like you do when you play wrestle on a mat.  "I get it. Put me down," you say inanely, your voice raspy but devoid of fear. 

 Harvey grips harder and glares at you. You choke but you look more annoyed than scared. You even tap at his wrist again.

 "This ain’t a game, Doc," Two-Face snarls, pressing his thumb harder into your artery. "I could kill you."

 You level him an unimpressed look. "Mr. Dent--" You choke when he tightens his grip. You drag your nails hard enough against his skin that it bleeds but still his grip stays firm. You change tact. "Mr. Two Face, we both know that if you really wanted to kill me you would have stabbed the key into my throat or slammed my head into the coffee table. Drop the act."

 Two-Face narrows his eyes at you searching your features for something; whatever it is, he finds it and drops you. "You're not as stupid as you look."

 "Thanks," you cough, rubbing your throat. You breathe in the respite deeply and greedily. "Pretty steep compliment--"

 "You're even stupider," he grunts still towering over you.

 You bark out a laugh, startled and ugly, sounding like a clogged drain. Two-Face can't tell if all your laughs sounded just like it or if it's the crushed throat. 

 "What’s so funny?" He snarls, hackles rising again. He has half a mind to strangle you again.

 You wipe a tear and wave an apologetic hand at him. "I'm sorry," you say, catching your breath. Now, that you've stopped laughing it occurs to Two-Face that your strange laugh isn't as unpleasant as he thought. "I've got a rough day ahead of me if everyone's gonna try that," you say, getting up and dusting your coat. 

 He twitches at the thought of someone else attacking you or maybe it's because you're stupid enough to try this again. He grabs you by the coat, hauling you to face him. You flick his nose in response. 

 This surprises Two-Face enough to let Harvey take over. 

 Harvey reels back horrified. "Oh god. Doc. I'm--"his mouth feels so dry"--I'm sorry. It’s just been a bad day." 

 "That why you have a busted lip?" You ask, uncrooking your glasses and fixing your coat before stuffing your hands in. Your tone is still thick with calm amusement. 

 Harvey lets out an exasperated breath. "No Doc, I just get split lips for fun."

You cover your mouth and snort. 

 Harvey splutters in response and  Two-Face shoves him back purely to glare at you. 

 You roll your eyes and snort again. Two-Face flushes. Feeling their heart flutter, Two-Face shoves Harvey back out and Harvey responds in kind with a popping 'nope'.  "Wanna expand on what happened?"

 It's Two Face's turn to refuse to look at you. He shrugs and plops back down on the couch, resting the bottom half of his hidden in his hand. "Nothin' out of the ordinary," he says with another shrug. 

 "Ordinary doesn't really work in Gotham." You round your desk again, looking through the top drawer for a first aid kit. 

 Two-Face glares in warning. In the back of his mind, Harvey huffs in amusement. "Are you really coming near me after that little stunt?"

 Your eye twitches.  "Please tell me how you expect me to help you from 10 feet away."

 Two-Face looks startled for a minute then grumbles.

 "Yeah thought so."

"Hurry up."

 "You are huffy for someone who just choked me," you say, examining the wound on his left hand. The knuckle is split and it has scratches from earlier.

 "Here, I thought you forgave me," he says, blatantly ignoring the delicate way you hold his hand. 

 "I'd like to be asked before someone chokes me."

 "Ya into that kinda thing, Doc?" He sneers trying to catch you off your guard.

"Dunno try choking me again and we'll find out," you say, mischief sparkling in your eyes. 

 Two-Face and Harvey both choke.

 You cackle.

 Two-Face coughs violently, "What kind of fucking shrink are you?" He feels his body heating up. 

 "One with a sense of humor," you hum, dabbing the alcohol over the wounds. "Now hold still, you big baby."

 He’s shy and reluctant, making your lip twitch. Your demeanor disturbs Two-Face enough to shove Harvey out with the words 'you deal with them.' 

 "Really sorry about earlier Doc."

 You raise your head at the timber of this voice. It was different, smooth, and silky like satin. "Hello Mr.Dent, do you two switch this often when talking to a person?"

 "Usually he's the one who butts in," he admits sheepishly, "he doesn't know what to make of you."

 "Another steep compliment. Two in a row," you hum, wrapping the bandage.  "Say, do you have any ideas for cactus names?"

 Harvey feels his lip warble, curving into an answering smile.  "I have a few ideas."

There are two new things on your desk. The first is an otter paperweight. It isn't made well; in fact, it looks like it was made by someone who had no arts and crafts experience. Harvey side-eyes you but you're busy fiddling with the second new thing, a pale cactus now named Chewy.

 How did you get from Frankford and Phenning to Chewy? 

 Apparently, naming it Two-Face was too on the nose so you landed on Chewy through some impressive leaps in logic. He sighs. Why are you like this? 

 "What was wrong with the name David?"

 "Nothing," you say, fixing the Chewy's name tag. "He just looks more like a Chewy. Pam seems to think so.” He’s mortified at the idea of Poison Ivy hearing your explanation. It was probably plain on his face because your face breaks out into a grin. “Relax, I won’t tell her you lost the coin toss,” you say lightly poking Chewy and tilting your head into your hand. 

 His heart plummets to the floor when he sees a palm-shaped bruise around your throat. Harvey Dent has never wanted to kick Two-Face more than now but now that he was staring at you, he could see all the little nicks and scrapes. You even had a bruise on your chin. 

 Two-Face shoves past Harvey and bursts onto the scene. "Who did that?" He asks pointing at the bruise. You startle, lightly touching the still puckered bruise.

 "Oh... It's nothing."

 "Who. Did. That." He repeats, starting to stand up. His movement is unnervingly fast due to the loss of restraints.

 You lick your lips. "Don't laugh."

 "Doc, none of this sounds funny."

 You sigh, "Give it a minute." You steeple your hands together and purse your lips. Your silence agitated him, so you rush the explanation out. "I fell through the floor of my sister's house while we were renovating." He blinks.“You… can’t be serious.”

 You take out your phone and show him the video your sister took. 

 Two-Face, Harvey, you really can’t tell, sits back and throws his head back laughing his ass off.

#harvey dent x reader #harvey dent #two face x reader #two face

[andypantsx3]

hiii “All I can think of is ripping that right off of you.” and Shinsou plz PLS MAKE MY DREAMS COME TRUE

Of course, my beautiful noodle. Anything for you. ✨ 

TIGHTLY WOUND : SHINSOU HITOSHI x READER

PROMPT: “All I can think of is ripping that right off of you.” 

NOTES: 1.6k, established relationship, halloween, smut, aged up characters, fem pronouns + afab reader, 18+ mdni

You knew he was going to like it. Possibly a little too much.

But there was nothing he could do about if the two of you were in public. Probably.

UA’s hero course students and their significant others gathered a couple times a year to catch up, but the most sacred of these occasions was the annual Class A Halloween party. Probably because they were all a bunch of huge nerds with incurable cases of hero worship, even though they were heroes themselves now, and they took any excuse to dress up as their faves.

Midoriya was always All Might. Kirishima had been Crimson Riot for years, until Mina had had enough and threatened to melt his costume off if he did it one more time. Bakugou was always dressed as himself, which never failed to launch his entire squad into hysterics. And your boyfriend Hitoshi was—adorably—always dressed as his mentor, Eraserhead.

You usually took a more traditional approach, dressing in actual costumes like a vampire, a ghost, a witch, that kind of a thing. But this year, you’d thought of a way to go traditional, while still matching Hitoshi’s costume.

And also maybe drive Hitoshi a little nuts.

You’d pulled on a short slip that matched your skin tone, and then you’d dug out one of Hitoshi’s capture scarves. You’d spent the better part of a half hour carefully winding it around you, positioning it and pinning it in place, letting portions dangle strategically like loose bandages. Then you’d pulled on an old pair of boots and wound those with loose fabric that matched, and voila. A sexy mummy.

And also a partner costume to Hitoshi’s.

Hitoshi had been on patrol all day, so you’d promised to meet him at Mina’s, where the party was usually held. You made it there well before he did, and you’d managed to make the rounds and say hello to everyone, then sat and chatted with some of the Class A girls on Mina’s squashy couch, sipping on some radioactively-colored cocktail she had pressed into your hand that tasted just as toxic as it looked.

You could tell when Hitoshi arrived. The bare skin on your shoulder prickled, almost hot, like a pair of eyes was boring straight through you. You turned to find your boyfriend lounging in the entryway, looking as handsome as ever in his costume.

Telltale strands of messy purple hair peeked out from underneath his black wig, and the replica of his mentor’s jumpsuit—similar to his own hero costume—was belted in at his trim waist, emphasizing the taper from his broad shoulders to his slim hips. His capture weapon was wound around his throat.

And he was staring at you like he could drill holes through your costume if only he concentrated hard enough.

You fought down a laugh. So he liked it.

Hitoshi moved towards you as if pulled by a magnet, stopping just behind you and leaning over the couch. You tipped your head up to look at him, and he gazed back, violet eyes impassive.

“Yo, Shinsou,” Mina said, and a chorus of greetings went up from the other girls. “Great costumes. You guys match!”

“Thanks,” he said in his low drawl, an arm going around you. “Mind if I steal my girlfriend?”

His tone was a touch deeper than normal, something strangely dark in it, and you suppressed a tiny shiver. So he really liked the scarf.

“Not stealing if she belongs to you,” Mina smirked, casting you a knowing look. Your cheeks went warm.

Hitoshi pulled you up over the back of the couch with an easy strength, mindful of the angle of your slip, but rushed, like the building would collapse any second and he needed to get you out.

He half-carried you away, not bothering to release his hold even after you cleared the couch, and you stumbled along after him as he pulled you through the crowds of his classmates, turning a few quick corners until he found the door to the bathroom. He shoved it open, dragging you inside.

No sooner had you made it through the door than you were shoved up against it and kissed within an inch of your life. Hitoshi’s mouth was hot and insistent, and he pressed himself against you hard, a long line of warmth and slender muscle, and his hands kneaded desperately at your waist.

“Hi—Toshi—” you finally managed when he let you up for air.

Hitoshi hummed, trailing burning kisses over the side of your face and down your throat. “Fuck, kitten. What the hell are you doing in my scarf?”

You laughed, cutting off on a gasp when he bit down on your bare shoulder. “—I’m a mummy. Do you—ah!—do you like it?”

Hitoshi let out a groan, pressing his hips into your harder, where you could feel one very firm bit of evidence to suggest that he liked it. “All I can think of is ripping that off of you right now,” he said, sounding hoarse. “I want to unwrap you like a fucking present, just for me, all mine.”

You laughed again. “I am yours. And I don’t know about ripping, but I think some discarding could be arranged.”

Hitoshi was moving before you’d even finished speaking. Long fingers worked into the knots you’d tied to keep the scarf tight and flattering around your waist, and his mouth reattached itself to the side of your neck.

“Gonna fuck you so hard this entire party will hear you,” he promised into your skin, tugging the slip off of you once he’d gotten the knots undone. Then a calloused pair of hands grabbed your waist, turning you and shoving you over the counter top. Hitoshi draped himself over your back, one hand coming up to cup a breast, pinching your nipple between deft fingers.

You let out a startled moan when his other hand slid into your underwear, pressing up into you. He breathed hot against the back of your neck, skillful fingers working into you with an expertise born of familiarity. In a matter of minutes, he had you worked up and writhing over the sink, pushing back onto his hand with wanton abandon.

“Hitoshi, please—” you said.

There was another pinch to your nipple, and then you heard the rustle of fabric as Hitoshi tugged at his pants. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, kitten,” he said, bracing a hand against your back to hold you down as he slid into you. “And when I’m done, you’re going to put that fucking costume back on, and I’m going to take you home and fuck you again, all tangled up in my scarf.”

You swore. “Hitoshi—”

He silenced you with a sharp thrust. “I’m going fuck you again and again, kitten, just like I know you wanted me to when you put that fucking thing on.”

Your nipples brushed the cold stone of the counter, as he drove into you, still pressing you down with a strong hand on your back. His other hand came up to rub slow circles over your clit, maddeningly light in contrast to his sharp thrusts.

“Hitoshi, please—ah!”

His mouth curled into a smirk against your neck. “What’s that, kitten? You want something?”

You bucked wildly, trying to press more firmly into his hand. He just laughed, low and dark, keeping his touch so awfully, horribly, terribly soft.

The lack of pressure drove you to the edge of insanity, and you whined. “Hitoshi, please just touch me, please!”

“I am touching you, sweetheart,” he said lightly. “Maybe if you beg a little louder, you might get what you want.”

A hot flash of embarrassment burned through you. “I can’t…”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “That’s too bad then, kitten.”

His movements slowed, hips working lazy circles into you. You caught a flash of his smile in the mirror, as his touch became even lighter, just barely a whisper against your throbbing clit.

“Hitoshi, seriously, just—fuck me,” you grit out, whining again when slender fingers teased at your nipple with the same maddening gentleness. Hitoshi pressed a kiss against your hair.

“Come on, kitten, let me hear that pretty voice,” he said. “Let everyone hear you, baby.”

And then he thrust into you, hard, at the same time he pressed down on your clit firmly. A loud yelp echoed in the silence, and you realized with some horror that it had come from you. 

Hitoshi didn’t give you any more time to think, though, slamming back into you, hard, toying with your nipple exactly how he knew you liked. You cried out again, whining loudly, while he breathed against your ear, “That’s it, sweetheart. I want everyone to know how good I’m fucking you.”

“Hitoshi, fuck—fuck, hah!”

His pace quickened, his touch growing firmer, more intentional, harder and sweeter and so utterly fucking perfect while he murmured obscenities into your ear. The slide of him inside of you was so good, his voice so hot and filthy in your ear, that he had you coming in mere minutes, sobbing out his name.

Hitoshi pressed a kiss under your ear, whispering your praises, and then he was coming too, pinning you back down against the counter with his weight.

The two of you lay panting, Hitoshi still draped over you and his dark wig sliding off over your shoulder, when there was a sharp series of raps on the other side of the door. And then:

“Yo dude,” came Kaminari’s voice from the other side of the door.

You froze up.

“Congrats on what sounds like a truly masterful railing,” he said, sounding horribly sincere. “But I need you to get out now. I seriously gotta pee.”

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #bnha x reader #shinsou hitoshi #garbage fest 2021 #garbage fest fics

[thesoulspulse]

Reconcile (Good Vlad AU ~ Oneshot)

It happened in early winter, that's all he could tell because of the first signs of snowfall outside of the window next to his bed at the hospital. Vlad had been there for, what, a month or so? Kept in isolation from everyone apart from a couple of doctors and nurses. Honestly, it was entirely possible Vlad had been there for longer for all he knew since every day blurred into the next after the accident.

Vlad couldn't feel it though, the cold, because these days his skin always felt either unnaturally chilly or feverishly hot to the touch. The only constant Vlad could feel was pain. The morphine helped ease that pain a little bit, but all that was left to feel after that was this cold numbness. And since the doctors thought he had been exposed to radiation of some kind -which to be fair they weren't wrong- no one has been allowed to see him after he was admitted there.

But still, Vlad had hoped his friends would come see him eventually. And more importantly, he wanted the chance to give Jack a piece of his mind! That...that traitor knew the portal experiment was unstable and potentially dangerous and yet he still pressed the-

“Excuse me, are you awake Mr. Masters? You have a visitor,” a nurse called after knocking on the door and poking her head inside.

At first Vlad was happy that he had a visitor, hoping it would be Maddie so he could get these feelings off his chest about how angry he was at Jack...but as soon as he saw the large silhouette waiting outside the door he knew there was only one person that would have come here to see him who had such a wide girth. It was Jack. But he wasn't ready to see him, not yet, not when all Vlad could think about is how his best friend had almost killed him...

Turning his head away Vlad finally muttered, “Sorry, I'm not feeling well. Please tell them to come back lat-ER!”

Vlad grunted the last word of that sentence as Jack burst into the room, tears rolling down his cheeks as the man called him by that ridiculous nickname of Vladdy he insists on using. Normally Vlad could shrug it off, but right now the nickname felt insulting somehow as if Jack was making light of what happened the last time they saw each other. Either way it's a good thing Maddie actually was there and managed to help the nurse pry him off, reminding Jack that Vlad's in the hospital as a patient so giving him a bear hug wasn't the best idea.

Regardless, Jack looked at Vlad's bandaged face and sobbed, “I'm so sorry V-man. We tried to come sooner but they wouldn't let us in! We were so worried about you!”

Nodding, Maddie put a supportive hand on Jack's shoulder and continued awkwardly. “He's right, as soon as we recovered from the shock of what had happened to you we immediately went looking for you but you had already collapsed somewhere. Jack was heartbroken and didn't understand what went wrong with the portal. I tried to find out too but it was no use, whatever happened fried the wiring and-”

Cutting herself off as soon as she realized she was going off on a tangent when their friend's well-being was much more important, Maddie dropped her hand from Jack's shoulder and asked with a sad smile, “How're you feeling? Have they been taking good care of you? I tried to explain your condition to the doctor but...they didn't believe me about it being related to ectoplasmic energy.”

“Why would they? As far as they're concerned ghosts don't exist,” Vlad replied with a guarded expression, unwilling to admit he tried to do the exact same thing only for his arguments to be thoroughly dismissed since he's not a doctor. “As for the rest they're...doing the best they can I suppose.”

An awkward silence filled the room since none of them knew what to say after that, but then, Jack spoke up and said, “Vladdy? Um, I know it's a bit squished but I made this for you. It's...my way of saying sorry for everything. I should have listened to you and Mads when you told me to stop.”

Reaching into one of the many pockets of his jumpsuit which according to Jack was handed down to him by his grandfather and designed after an outfit one of his ghost-hunting ancestors wore, he handed Vlad what appeared to be a misshapen block of homemade fudge. The gesture might not have seemed like a big deal to anyone else, but for Jack who absolutely loved the stuff and couldn't help himself from eating almost all of it himself in one sitting whenever he made or bought it, however, the fact that Jack was sharing an entire serving of it just for Vlad really was his way of showing his sincerity. Similarly, Maddie reached into her bag and pulled out a couple of her ghost folklore books for him to read since she figured Vlad must have been bored laying in bed all day.

Vlad was at a loss for words because he had almost given up hope that they'd ever come visit him, hope that Jack would own up to his mistakes for once and apologize. But since he did, Vlad couldn't stay mad. He wanted to, but couldn't, not since this forgetful yet earnest man had gone out of his way to finally come see him. The same goes for Maddie, Vlad was sure she felt guilty too for not stopping Jack in time since she's always been the more careful of the two when it comes to their experiments...

Accepting their gifts but resisting the urge to wipe the tears from his eyes since his face still hurt, Vlad held them in his lap and sniffled, “Thank you. Thank you both for coming. I...was afraid you had abandoned me.”

“Come on V-man, give me a little credit,” Jack smiled, gently punching Vlad's shoulder. “You're my best friend! I know I can be careless and stupid sometimes, but friends have to stick together through thick and thin don't they? We'll get through this together and then maybe we can try again with the ghost portal. We were so close!”

Grimacing at the thought of going anywhere near that portal again, Vlad was relieved when Maddie interjected and said, “Jack, don't forget that it's our fault this happened so before any of that we need to make sure Vlad's going to be ok. We don't know what that portal did to him and the doctors are only going to be able to help him so much. The best thing we can do for him is go back to square one and find out what we did wrong so it doesn't happen again.”

“Shoot, you're right. I'm sorry,” Jack apologized, looking dejected. “Don't worry Vladdy, I'll make this all up to you I promise! And we'll visit more too!”

Smiling weakly more because it hurt to move his face too much, Vlad nodded, “I'd like that.”

Soon after that, before Maddie could comment on anything else the nurse shooed them out so they could get Vlad ready for his next check up. But as soon as he was alone again Vlad reached over to set the fudge and books on the desk next to him when they unexpectedly slipped through his fingers. Blinking in confusion but brushing it off as clumsiness, he sighed and swung his feet over the bed so he could bend down to pick them up again. This time though, when he reached for them again they didn't just slip through his fingers as a figure of speech...they LITERALLY passed through them! Alarmed Vlad recoiled from both objects, his heart racing when he mustered the courage to look at his hands only to find they were translucent.

Realizing his sudden spike in heart activity would alert the hospital staff Vlad concentrated as hard as he could to restore his fingers to a solid state again. It took some effort but thankfully he managed to pull it off. It was in that moment though that Vlad realized, for better or worse, his relationship with Jack and Maddie would never be the same again...

And neither would he.

~

Note: I normally don’t write fully-fledged story content on tumblr apart from headcanon ideas or sharing updates about new chapters for my fanfics, but since I had started this oneshot before my Good Vlad AU started to really kick off and wasn’t that far along I adapted it into a special oneshot about Jack and Maddie coming to see Vlad at the hospital after the accident. I always wondered why they never did and usually assumed Vlad turned them away himself (mostly Jack) along with the doctors and his friends eventually move on and kind of forgot about him for all those years.

Either way, I wanted to see what could have happened if they managed to fix things with Vlad sooner while still on somewhat good terms before that sense of abandonment and resentment for Jack could take root in Vlad’s heart. Hopefully that comes across here in this little story snippet! I might post this on my actual fanfiction account later but for now, it’s here for you guys especially!

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny phantom oneshot #good vlad au #jack fenton #maddie fenton #college vlad #oneshot #danny phantom fanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #story concept #story snippet #headcanon #danny phantom headcanon #thesoulspulse #thesoul'spulse #the souls pulse #the soul's pulse #short story #danny phantom short story

[enigma-im]

The Less I Know The Better

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Imp!Black x F!Yellow Warning: Attempted murder, Among us fanfic, Monster sex, horror, comfort, angst, i’m not sorry

Word Count: 4916

      Boyfriends can bring comfort, monster boyfriends can bring...

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

"Hey, Blake, can you help me with coms? I've been stuck on that silly little radio for a while," I rock on my toes, hands clasped behind my back as I await his answer. For a good moment, he looks mostly confused, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. It's curious, what is there to be so conflicted about?

"What," he gawks.

"Coms," I answer slowly," can you help?"

Blake stares down at me, looking sort of angry under the blatant confusion. I grow embarrassed having asked him. We don't talk much or anything, merely coworkers and nothing more. Perhaps I'm pushing a boundary I had no idea existed.

"Uh, sure," he answers almost like a question.

"Great," I perk up, twisting on my heel to walk away. I feel him reluctantly follow, throwing his hands into his tied off jumpsuit pockets. I toss a glance over my shoulder, giving him a bright smile of appreciation. He grunts in response.

We walk- more like I lead- to coms, awkward silence occupying the time. I stop over by the little frustrating radio to wait for Blake. He stops in the middle of the room, looking nervous but still. It's strange seeing his shoulder tick and his fingers fidget in his pockets but his face is so neutral.

"You ok," I ask. His forearm stiffens, barely noticeable fists clenched within his pockets.

"I'm fine," he says terse," what do you need my help on?"

I jump on the topic change, turning back to the radio. I turn it on, the horrid static blaring around the silent room. Wincing, I turn the volume down and begin fiddling with the knobs.

"Layla switched jobs with me this week because she is trying to get close to Bucky- which is understandable- and now I have the task of making sure the radio is up and operational. Which shouldn't be a hard job, just turn it on and off. Yet, lucky me, I have a radio that doesn't want to connect to anything and I don't know what to do," I answer, flicking the knobs this way and that. Listening closely to the change in static I just barely catch the sound of something wet snapping. I stop, curious above all else. The sound echoes again with a rip.

I twist around to the room, looking to Blake who is standing still in the middle of the room. He looks tense and his black shirt is askew with a single tear by his hip.

"Oh," I gasp," Your shirt? What happened?"

"Nothing," he answers shortly," let me see the radio an-"

I walk over, interrupting him," nonsense, I'm pretty good with sewing as my mother taught me when I was young. I'm sure I can fix that up. Accidents happen and I'm pretty sure Dax keeps an extra shirt around here." as I ramble I grab his shirt, looking to the tear with trained eyes. I'm sure I can fix this by tomorrow.

"uh," he keeps his arms away from me, uncomfortable to the max," ok."

I look to him, smiling sweetly before walking away in search of a clean shirt. I fiddle in a drawer, finding a dark green t-shirt for him to wear.

"This should do, you and Dax are big dudes," I hand him the shirt," I know you prefer wearing black but green would still be a good look for you. It will bring out your eyes and make you look quite handsome."

Blake seems lost as he grabs the shirt. He mutters a thanks, looking away flustered. I want to coo but keep the urge to myself. He grabs the hem of his shirt, hefting it over his body. I squeak, turning around with my own flustered face.

He changes quickly, handing me the shirt in his normal bored expression. Not wanting to dwell on the matter any longer he walks to the radio, twisting the knobs expertly.

It seems like ever since that day in coms Blake is always nearby. It's a huge comfort as conflict engulfs the crew. Rumor has gone around that there are two imposters aboard the Skeld. People barely paid it any mind till the first body was found in the med bay. I hardly knew the lad, only recognized them by their bright orange jumpsuit. Since then I have appreciated the company of Blake.

An alarm rings around the ship as Blake lends a hand in Reactor. We both look around, me more nervous than him. It's when a neutral voice calls for an employee meeting that I settled a bit. Blake and I walk to the cafeteria, meeting with the rest of the crew at the center table. Once we all are seated, Charlie talks.

"Another body has been found between electrical and the engine," Charlie says solemnly. I stiffen at his words, worried above all else that it was so near. "Was anyone near there, did anyone see anything," he asks.

The group murmurs amongst themselves, giving each other alibis and recounts. I look around, thinking to myself that I should speak up. Lifting my arm to speak of my whereabout Blake grabs my wrist.

"Don't," he whispers.

"Don't?" he nods, clenching my hand down to the bench. I curiously look from him to Charlie, conflicted. "Why not," I ask," We were near and if we can bring any information then it's a start in finding the imposter."

"It also puts a big target on your back so just keep quiet unless specifically asked," he snaps through clenched teeth. I gawk at him, not paying a bit of mind to a few crewmates recounting what they were doing while the body was being discovered.

I silently seethe to myself, feeling like a traitor by keeping information to myself. We didn’t see anything, having our backs to the hallway, but telling Charlie that could help figure out which way the imposter could have gone. It's not good to keep such information to yourself at a time like this.

With no details added the meeting is dismissed with everyone more on edge. I quickly depart from the cafeteria, wanting to get away from Blake for now. Marching to my room I don't even notice when the man I wish to avoid is standing at my door. I flop down onto my bed, feeling stressed and anxious.

"You're mad," Blake grunts. I startle, twisting to my side to look at him. He stands tall, unfazed by the announcement of another dead crewmate. His dark grease backed hair is immaculate like usual. The fact that not a single hair is loose seems unfair to the situation.

"Yes," I bark," I'm mad."

"Why," he asks, stepping further into the room.

I gawk at him," why do you think I'm mad? One of our crewmates is dead and you don't want me telling anyone where I was because you think it will put a mark on my back! It shouldn't matter, I didn't kill them but I was close by. I could have been useful."

Blake's lip twitches towards a sneer. His hands leave his pockets in favor of crossing his arms. He looks annoyed, which is better than looking bored. Good, he finally acts like he feels something about all this.

"Did you see anything? Did you hear someone walk by? Truly, do you think you have anything important to say that won't paint you as a potential suspect," he snaps, leaning towards me as he angrily shouts his point. I sit up in bed, throwing my arms up in exasperation.

"No, but i-," I try to explain.

"No," he walks over to the bed," you don't have anything that could have been even remotely useful. Saying nothing was almost the same outcome as saying anything. The only difference is you would have been watched and targeted by the true murderer. It's easy to paint you as the imposter when people are already looking your way and I will not let that happen." he is nearly face to face with me, towering over me easily. His ire is almost enough to silence me. He makes good points but it's not enough for my frustrated self.

"Why should it matter to you if I want to let myself be targeted like that? It's not your job to keep me safe," I stand strong, keeping myself confident in my argument.

"It is my job to keep you safe," he snaps, growling under his breath.

I get up in his face, feeling his breath over my cheeks," Why?"

He stutters," Because- it's cau- I- fuck." his shoulder sag, sighing as he grabs my shoulders. Before I can even blink his lips are on mine. My heart stutters along with my breath, shocking me to my core. I don't have time to react before he is pulling away, the ghost feeling of his warm lips on mine.

Blake opens his mouth to answer, lifting his hands off my shoulder as he struggles to speak. Before he can get too far I panic, reaching out and grabbing his shirt collar. I tug him back, leaning up to kiss him.

It's not magical or special but it feels right. The comfort he gives makes everything disappear as our mouths dance together. I like his warmth, I love his taste. Though my anger dwells in the back of my mind I don't care enough to split. Right now is perfect, even though a true surprise.

The next week is easier to deal with as I have Blake by my side. His ever-present self brings a sort of ease to the chaos around us. The bodies stack up as the killer continues their spree and when the stress becomes too much I can rely on Blake to calm me down.

"This is getting ridiculous," Charlie snaps, running his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time," soon we are going to be outnumbered by theses dickheads, we have to pick someone. Randy, you have had eyes on everything, who do you suspect?"

We all look to Randy," I don't want to be the one pointing fingers here but I have barely seen pinkie here on cams."

Peter gasps, sneering at Randy," So you think I did it just because you don't know where I am every second of the day? How about Lesha? She has been the one to report the body almost every time, seems kind of sus to me."

"Fuck you, Peter," Lesha shouts," don't be pointing that finger at me. I can't help that none of you walk the ship, like, at all."

"Walking the ship and killing people seems like a better waste of your time than fixing the constantly sabotaged O2," Peter barks back.

"Yea, well how about bumblebee over there," she points to Blake and I," those two have been together nonstop, looks like we found our two imposters right there."

"What," I gawk," we have been keeping an eye on one another, doing our tasks. Blake has helped me with so many difficult jobs."

Charlie hums," interesting that you don't seem to understand how to do these simple tasks. The fact that Blake has to basically do them all for you seems rather sus. Clearly, an imposter wouldn't know how to accurately know how to do the jobs us crewmates have been trained for." the group nods, agreeing with his statement. I can only sit back in surprise as everyone turns their gaze to me. My crewmates, people I have worked with for a while, are now turning on me. All of them pointing their fingers to me. What can I do now? I have no alibi or excuse.

I fall to my misfortune, gawking at them all. I have nowhere to run or to escape. These people I have shared so much with is going to shoot me out the nearest airlock without any regret. All I can do is hang my head in defeat.

"She has been with me and hasn't off-ed me," Blake answers casually," clearly if she was the imp then she would have slashed my neck when she had the chance. Believe me, she has had many chances." I don't dare to hope.

The group mutters amongst themselves. It's ultimately Charlie who they all look to, waiting for his final verdict.

Charlie hums in thought, watching me with eagle eyes. "That is very fair. You two have been alone often, it seems like a likely excuse. Our best bet is to keep an eye on her, wait for her to make her move."

The sigh of relief is short-lived as the accusatory eyes lock on me. I think I'll be having a great deal of company this day forward.

In just a few days my ultimate stress has been reached. Every turn I take I'm watched by crewmates, laser focus on my every move. Blake does his best to settle the crew, keeping them at a distance while I work. It's a little relief but I appreciate it all the same. Though walking out of my room every night to someone lounging against the wall nearby brings everything to a head. I will live like this till I'm truly accused or murder by the actual killer.

Blake and I walk to my room, two crewmates following further behind. When we reach my door Blake shoos them away with a promise to watch over me tonight. The two grumble in agreement, marching off.

"Thanks," I mumble, walking into my room.

"hardly something that needs thanks," he grumbles as he follows me in.

We lounge in my bed, looking at my tablet a bit. It's when I'm left staring at the screen for a solid minute that Blake bumps my shoulder.

"You alright," he asks. I chew my cheek, not wanting to reveal the true levels of stress I'm living with.

"As alright as I can be," I shrug. I look back to my tablet, flipping through messages. Blake grabs the tablet from my hands, tossing it aside.

"You can talk to me," he turns on his side," I can't say I'll be much help but I can lend an ear." I turn to him, meeting his charming green eyes. He truly is handsome. I try to tell him that often, adoring the blush that gifts me every time. Though he has bags under his eyes and a rather rude disposition, I treasure his constant presence.

I sigh, closing my eyes," it's hard dealing with all this distrust. Like, I've worked around these people for months. We have joked and laughed together, taught one another. It's depressing."

Blake doesn't answer, making the words linger for a bit. Anxiety bubbles in my chest until I feel him shift closer. He grabs at my hips, turning me towards him. I open my eyes in time to see him lean up and press a kiss to my forehead.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with all this," he mumbles, laying back down against the pillow. Minimal relief floods my chest. He may not have a way with words but he nails the tenderness.

"it's ok, we will figure this out in the end," I reach up and pat his cheek. He turns and kisses my palm, his thumb petting at my hips as he does. I can't help myself, I lunge up to kiss him. He startles when my lips touch his, his fingers clenching my body a bit too tight. Despite his preparedness, he eagerly returns the gesture.

We have made out like a bunch of teenagers before but right now I need more. I crave more from him, greedy as it feels. I pull at his collar, leaning back while guiding him over me. He catches on, pressing his body over mine while sliding his tongue into my mouth. I mew in approval, gripping his shirt to bring him closer.

"Blake," I groan into his mouth. He stiffens, retreating a small distance. I meet his eyes, seeing his confliction. Reaching around I pet at his cheek, softening to his blight. "You alright," I ask," we don't have to do anything you don’t want."

He shakes from his stupor," No, it's just- no, we can keep going."

He falls back into the motions, kissing and licking my lips with more eagerness than before. His hips grind slowly into mine, pressing his hard-on into my crotch. We groan and grope, reaching under the other's shirt. I scratch at his chest while he slowly pets up to my chest.

Before he can touch at my bra I push him up. He goes, stiffening once more in worry. Instead of comforting him, I take off my shirt, tossing it aside with a teasing smile. His eyes dart towards my chest, gulping while his fingers curl near my waist.

Worried, I reach for him," You alright?". His answer is to drop his head and bury his face in my cleavage. "I'll take that as a yes," I laugh. He kisses and nibbles at my boobs, reaching around and unclasping my bra. Leaning back he throws the pesky clothing away, falling back to take a nipple into his mouth. His warm mouth and soothing tongue makes my back arch, pulling a groan from my mouth.

"you like this," he asks, nuzzling his cheek to my boob.

I pet his head," yea, but I think it's your turn now."

He sits up," my turn?"

"yep," I pop the p, fisting his shirt in my hand to give it a tug. He catches on, swiftly pulling off his shirt. I eagerly look him over, admiring his firm chest and light pooch of his stomach. I reach out and trace a finger down his chest towards his pants. Hooking my finger over the waistband I tug, throwing a cheeky eyebrow raised in question.

"You first," he asks, grabbing my waistband. I smile in answer, pulling my feet up as he tugs my jumpsuit bottoms down. After he tosses the bottoms away he swiftly removes my underwear, not paying them a bit of mind as he looks at my crotch with awe. In a trance, he falls to his stomach, tugs at my thighs, and dives in.

"Oh-oh damn," I say shocked at his hunger. His tongue danced over my clit, lapping up my slick with great vigor. I can't help but writhe under his assault, reaching down to grasp his head. I grind into his mouth, almost tormented by his tongue. He lathers my cunt in sweet, sweet attention. It's shocking how quickly he drives me out of my mind. I can hardly believe it.

His tongue soon circles at my entrance, exploring the space timidly. He then shoves his tongue inside me, giving the same vigorous attention. He thrusts and wriggles, bringing me closer and closer to a climax. As I lose myself in bliss I can faintly feel his tongue reach deeper, swelling in girth. I can't bring myself to care as I cry out, nearly ripping his hair from his head as I cum on his face. Choking on my cries of pleasure.

"Blake, oh- stop," I pant, lazily pressing against him. It takes a second for him to catch on, drinking from the new tap. He shoots off, lifting his head sharply.

"Sorry," he grins," was a… tasty experience." his eyes drop back to my crotch, drooling a bit as he gravitates towards me.

"no, no sir," I grab his arm and lift him back over me," I have a different craving than your tongue right now."

"Is that right," he chuckles, leaning in for a kiss.

"oh yeah, you think you can supply me with what I need," I cup his head, kissing him. He hums in answer, awkwardly kicking off his pants. I don't get a chance to say anything before he is resting at my entrance, his tip nudging excitedly. He leans back enough to meet my eyes, asking without words. I nod.

Not looking away he bucks forward, sheathing himself swiftly. We both cry out, startled at the pleasure. His head falls to my shoulder, panting hard. I come back to myself in the meantime, petting at his back. I can feel his body flex, his shoulder twitching and tightening. His chest feels like it swells as his labored breathing ghosts over my chest.

"you alright, dear," I ask, pressing my cheek against his.

"yea," he answers quickly," just- just need a second."

"Take your time," I hug him closer.

He needs longer than a second to reel himself in. slowly his body stops twitching and tightening. Timidly he arches his hips back, bucking forward with a relieved sigh. He repeats, arching back and bucking forward. His tempo is timid but nice. I let him go at his own speed.

Blake holds me snuggly as he slowly fucks me. His cock glides smoothly in and out, squelching lightly each time he goes all in. I find pleasure in his body, listening to his grunts and sighs. I echo him, panting against his shoulder. Though I have to fight against the urge to buck my hips.

"Blake," I sigh, question sitting on the end of my tongue. As I say his name his body stiffens again, his hips stuttering with restrained vigor. It's clear now why he is so apprehensive. I turn to his ear, whispering," let go."

He stops breathing for a moment, his hips freezing as well. Frustration grows in my limbs as I wish for him to keep moving. With a kiss to my cheek, I get what I wish.

Blake's hip draws back almost far enough for him to fall out, slamming forward in a body shaking thrust. I yelp, my nails biting into his shoulders. He draws back again and quickly fills the space he departed. His tempo ups to an amazing degree, plowing into me. Our hips clap as I cry out over his shoulder.

We cry out together, rising in pleasure till we are damn near breaking. I hold him tightly, clenching up as my second orgasm of the night washes over me. He chokes, grunting as he fights through my tightening channel.

Blake is still chasing his finish as I fall back onto the bed, closing my eyes as I ride out my high. I listen to his grunts, pleased above all else.

His hips finally stutter as he cries out. He pumps a few more times till he stills, flooding my insides as he cums. I hum in content. Before I can open my eyes to watch him I hear a loud wet crack. I snap my eyes open looking up to a horrid sight.

"Oh my god," I shake. Blake is perched above me, looking less like himself. His face is cracked down to his neck, his tongue long and extruding from the gap. Sharp teeth line the wet appendage, some teeth visible within the gash. In the darkness behind him, I see an even larger appendage writhing around in the air. Some drool drips off the tip of his tongue, splatting against my sternum. It's enough to shock me into action.

I kick at his thighs, getting his cock out of me while crawling up the bed. As my foot nudges roughly against his thigh he opens his eyes to see my terrified face. With another crack his face rights itself, the gash snapping shut. The appendage behind him slithers back from where ever it came from with a wet snap.

"No," he grabs at me," no, no, it's ok." his tightly clasps my shoulders, pulling me back under him. "It's ok, I won't hurt you," he says panicked. I wiggle in his hold, trying to getaway. I slap at his chest, kick at his legs. He stops this by pinning my body. As I sit tightly in his arms he drops his head to mine, "Please, I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you, you are safe." he rambles these words over and over till I lose my fight.

I fall lack, sighing," Blake?"

"yes, it's me. It's Blake," he tries to smile," I'm me, it's ok."

We both take a moment to calm down, though my heart doesn't catch the message. I manage to convince him to let me go, though it took a lot of promises. It took a moment to find our clothes, putting them on as a reason to put off talking. Soon I'm sitting on the bed and he sits across the room in a chair.

The silence is awkward.

"So," I start," you're not human."

He chuckles without amusement," that's one way to put it."

"Well," I fiddle with my fingers," What are you?"

He sighs," an alien is a good enough term." him actually saying it makes my head hurt. He is an alien, I had sex with an alien. Oh god, I had sex with an alien. I drop my head into my hands with a drawn-out groan.

"This is a mess," I grumble in my hands. It's the truth, where do you go from here. I shake my head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry," Blake says, his chair screeching as he stands," I wanted to tell you but it's hard to just bring that up. Then I thought I could control myself during…well, that."

I scoff," you didn't seem to have control there at the end." I can't help but laugh at that, finding minimal humor in all this.

"Yea," he chuckles," I did not." we laugh a bit together, having a bit of normalcy before we fade off. We sit in silence once more. My brain races as thoughts creep back in. something clicks as I look to him.

"You're the imposter," I startle back," you killed those people, oh my god." I scramble back away from him, hitting my back against the wall. He panics, walking over to me with raised hands.

"No, I didn't do that. Yea, I'm the imposter everyone is hunting but I'm not like the other one. I couldn't even get the guts to kill you, how can i-," he freezes, straightening with tense shoulders.

"What," I curl up," you- you tried to kill me?"

"No," he answers quickly," well, yes, but I couldn't do it. You were so nice and peppy, too lovely to kill."

"Too lovely to kill? So if I was mean then I would be one of the dead launched out the airlock," I scoff," why should that be so special? Were you just trying to get in my pants or something? How can you expect me to believe any of this, this is outrageous."

"Don't accuse me of something I never did. I like you, plain and simple. Sure, if situations were different then maybe we wouldn't be here but we are now. You humans always ask 'what if' but don't settle with what is happening now. I'm sorry for not telling you, that will stay with me for a long time, but it's out now. So all I can say now is that I will keep you safe and I will never hurt you."

His outburst lingers in the air for a bit. His promise is heartwarming. Looking at him now I can nearly feel his sincerity. It's easy to believe him, though doubt wishes to taint it. I watch him for a moment, trying to fight for my ire. It's a losing battle. I sigh, dropping my head as I know I will forgive him. God, I hope this won't go wrong.

Blake and I become closer than ever as the crew searches far and wide for the true murderer. Blake swears up and down he has barely a clue on who the other person is, just having a faint idea. He keeps his suspicions to himself though, telling me that I have a bad poker face. Which… is true.

One night closes to an end with Blake walking me back to my room. We pass by electrical, hearing a strange noise. Sneaking inside we catch a glimpse of someone jumping out of the vent below. Swiftly Blake grabs me and runs out the room, whispering to me that the imposter dwells within the room. We shuffle out, hiding around by storage as the footsteps echo closer.

"Got to play casual," Blake suggests.

"How do we do that," I silently yell. As the steps near Blake grabs my shoulders, forces me against a storage bin, and kisses me. I catch on quickly, cupping the back of his head and hiking a leg over his hip. We listen closely to the steps, ready for the confrontation.

"I believe you two have a room for this kind of thing," a man calls from behind Blake. I pretend to startle away from Blake, laughing as I look over his shoulder.

"Sorry Charlie," I giggle," we got a little sidetracked."

"Yea, sorry Charlie," Blake mumbles as he sets me down, keeping himself between Charlie and me.

"Eh, all's well. Just head back to your room, it's late," he smiles kindly.

We depart from him, nodding as we pass. Our rush to my room is tense, listening for anyone following until we reach the sanctuary of my room.

A body is found that same night, a meeting taking place early the next morning. As we sit at the table Blake and I share a look as Charlie asks the group if they have any suspicions. Blake speaks first.

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

I wrote this strictly for the sex part. Everything else after that meant nothing to me. Also the guy taking control of the situation should always be sus. No one wants to be the leader in an Among us game unless they are the imp.

Didn’t like this one either, but i did have fun with the sex. cause i’m a thot.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

#among us #monster boyfriend #cyan is sus #comfort #fear #exophilia #Enigma-IM #i highkey adore among us #two imps

[solara-bean]

Screw Periods!!!

Grimmjow x Reader

( Reader has a uterus but their gender is of course up to you. )

You laid on your couch as still as a corpse. In fact you felt close to death thanks to your vagina having it's monthly tantrum. God did the cramps hurt like hell! And it must've been your lucky day since your heating pad broke and the painkillers were taking forever to kick in. At least it was a Saturday so work wasn't a problem.

Wait ... it's Saturday?!! You thought.

Right then a flood of spiritual pressure invaded your senses. In came the former epsada from your apartment's balcony. Although he was obviously angry he took care not to break the sliding door. Or anything for that matter. He knew better.

When it came to you at least.

You didn't bother to peak out from your comfy blanket burrito as he stalked up to the couch like the overgrown cat he was.

" You missed our sparring match. " He said in a low tone. There was no doubt a scowl on his face.

Despite how normal you may appear, you’re actually quite powerful. In the past, you’ve been able to take on all types of foes along with Ichigo and the rest of the gang. Although, you were a bit late to the party and weren’t able to get much experience before everything died down to a more peaceful state. Thankfully Grimmjow was more than willing to battle a worthy opponent since Ichigo was too busy with his education and trying to have a more normal life. Thus began your weekly sparring sessions, normally in Hueco Mundo or Urahara’s bunker. But today you were only willing to move as far as your bedroom to the living room and occasionally the bathroom. 

" I know. Sorry. " You grumbled. " Forgot what day it was."

" Tch. Since when do you forget what day it is? You sick or something?...Wait," his voice got closer to you. " Did someone hurt you?" He said with a mix of worry and deadly intent.

" No."

" Tell me who it is and I'll kill em."

" No! Grimm I'm fine."

" Hm. Then why," he tugged the blanket away from your face and raised a single brow. " Do you look like shit?"

You glared at him as best you could.

“ If you must know. I’m on my period.” You tugged the blanket back up. “ Now leave so I can suffer in peace. We’ll fight next week.”

Things were quiet for awhile. For second you thought he had left. Then..

“ Whats a period?”

Your eyes went wide under cover. You peaked out at him with an unbelieving eye. 

“ You know. Mensural cycles?”

His face scrunched.

“ Mental what?”

You looked at him fully.

“ You really don’t know what periods are???”

“ Yeah. I mean. Maybe? I don't know! It sounds kinda familiar.”

Hmm. You thought. If Grimm died at the age that he looks now then he definitely knows what periods are. Maybe he doesn’t fully remember.

“ I guess hollows can’t have them since you don’t reproduce.”

“ Huh?” more confusion showed on his face. “ What does that have to do with anything?! Are you...Are you having a kid?!!!”

Watching him panic over a mini-you running around would’ve been hilarious any other day. But today you just wanted to nap. So if he was ever going to leave you be he needed to know what was going on

“ Hand me my laptop.” You sat up with an audible groan. “ And no. I’m not pregnant.” 

It took a little over an hour to show him articles and YouTube videos about the wonders mensural cycles, plus answering questions about how yours worked specifically and a little chat on the birds and the bees. He got a bit upset with you feeling the need to explain the last one but you were playing it safe.

“ So you’re going through all this pain and gross stuff. Just because you have feminine parts, you’re not pregnant and you’re not fifty or older?” He said slowly from his seat on the carpet in front of the coffee table that held your laptop. 

“ Yeah pretty much.”

“ And this is every month?”

“ Yeah.”

“ For a week?”

“ Yep.”

“....That’s shitty.”

“ Uh huh.”

“ Like. Seriously whose fucking bright idea was this?!”

“ No clue. But they better stay out of my line of sight.”

“ Tch,” he scoffed and folded his arms. “ Well whoever it is deprived me of a good fight.”

You scowled at him.

“ Oh you poor thing. It must suck to have male anatomy privilege. How about you whine about it somewhere else while I attempt to get some sleep.” You rolled over in a huff. “ And for the record. I’ve fought you plenty of times on my period and won. It’s just being a bitch today.” 

You were in silence once again. Maybe now sleep would come. But no. The pain still came back every minute like a clawed hand slowly squeezing your guts over and over. Then all of a sudden warmth formed on your lower stomach. 

“ Hm?”

You looked down to see Grimmjow’s hand on you. It had a slight red glow indicating that he was using his cero. Though it was much more like comforting heat than a scolding laser beam. 

“ I didn’t know it could do that..”

“ It helps with sore joints and stuff. Is it numbing the pain at all?”

You rolled over. He had a soft look in his eyes. He was worried.  

Big softie kitty.

You smiled and pressed his palm closer to where it hurt the most.

“ Yeah..” you sighed. “ Feels a lot better.”

After a few minutes of slight dozing off, you felt him pick you up gently. Before you could ask he was already under you and laying you on top of him. He reached under the cover and past the hem of your shirt so you could feel both of his cero-warmed hands. You couldn’t but sigh in delight from the relief and nuzzle into the chest that was exposed from his black jumpsuit.

This might’ve been odd if you two hadn’t been getting closer lately. To no one’s surprise the feral arrancar was extremely touch starved. But with your sparring came respect. And with respect came the showing of vulnerability. After many long months of course. Eventually touching and being close to each other was second nature. Cuddling was new though. But he was basically a big cat so you knew it was bound to happen. 

As you fell asleep you heard the start of a purr. You didn’t know how long you were asleep but when you woke up he was gone. 

Guess he got bored and left. 

Your were about to feel sad and little lonely when a patch of blue hair poked itself through the balcony door. In came Grimmjow with a hand full of snacks. He made his way to you and plopped them all on the table.

“Ok I couldn’t go to a normal store for obvious reason so I went to Urahara’s.” he began to pick up each item one buy one. “ I got those sour gummies you like, some sodas, some water, a few cases of chocolate bars, a pack of caramel, the last of the good chips which I had to kick Jinta to get - the little bastard. And Urruru lended me some pads but I’m nut sure if they’re the kind you us-”

Before he could finish you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“ You’re the best! Thank you so much!”

He was taken aback for a moment then hugged you back with a smug smirk on his face.

“ Hey you wanna stay and watch a movie with me? I can’t eat all this by myself.”

“ Sure.” he shrugged nonchalantly. Though you could see a small smile on his face.

You sat snuggled up and watched an action comedy as you ate. You were half way through the movie when something hit you.

“ How’d you pay for all of this?”

Grimmjow chewed lazily a blueberry sour gummie, not bothering to take his eyes off the screen. 

“ I told Urahara that your vagina was trying to kill you. So he let me take it for free. Never saw him that quiet before.” 

“..........Yeah I’m definitely kicking your ass next week.”

“ I’d hope so.” he grinned.

#bleach #grimmjow #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow jaggerjack #grimmjow x reader #reader is op #grimmy is soft #reader doesn't take shit and grim freaking loves it #made this on my period to cope

[aion-rsa]

Squid Game’s Scathing Critique of Capitalism

https://ift.tt/3kOEMpF

This Squid Game article contains MAJOR spoilers.

From the very first game of ddakji out in the real world with Train to Busan actor Gong Yoo, Squid Game poses the question: how far would you go for money? How much of your body, your life, would you trade to keep the wolves at bay and to get to live the life you’ve always dreamed? Once you start, could you stop, even if you wanted to? And in the end, would it even be worth it? While Squid Game depicts an attempt to answer these questions taken to the extreme, they are the same essential questions posed to everyone living under capitalism: What kind of job, what terrible hours, what back-breaking labor, what level of abuse, what work/life imbalance will we tolerate in exchange for what we need or want to live? Unlike many examples of this genre, Squid Game is set in our contemporary reality, which makes its scathing critique of capitalism less of a metaphor for the world we live in and more of a literal depiction of life under capitalism.

Squid Game’s Workers

At the most basic level, the entire competition within Squid Game would not exist without extreme financial distress creating a ready pool of players. It’s no coincidence that Gi-hun’s hard times started when he lost his job, followed by violence against the workers who went on strike. Strike-breakers and physical violence against striking workers may feel like an antiquated idea to an American audience. South Korea, however, has something of an anti-labor reputation, with only 10% of its workers in unions and laws limiting unions to negotiating pay, among other restrictions. In the US, the anti-labor fight is alive and well, though transformed, where it takes the shape of the deceptively named “Right to Work” laws, which benefit corporations and make it harder for unions to operate.

As noted in our review, (most of) the players choose to leave and then willingly return to the arena, which separates Squid Game from other entries in the genre like the Hunger Games series and Escape Room. This element of volition contributes to the series’ primary critical goal. As Mi-nyeo and others brought up early on, they’re getting killed in the real world too, but at least inside they might actually get something for their troubles. 

As an anti-capitalist parable, the only ways to fight back or upend the game in some small way are through acts of solidarity or by turning down the allure of the cash. The final clause in the game’s consent form states that the game can end if a majority of players agree to do so. After the brutal Red Light, Green Light massacre in the first, they do exactly that. The election might as well be a union vote. It’s shocking that the contract for the game included an escape clause at all, but it seems the host and his ilk enjoy at least allowing the illusion of free will if nothing else. The players who didn’t return after the first vote to leave the game, though unseen in this narrative, are perhaps the wisest of all. 

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During tug of war, Gi-hun’s team surprises everyone by winning. Their teamwork, unity of purpose, and superior strategy help them defeat a stronger adversary, which is a basic principle of labor organizing, albeit usually not at the expense of the lives of other workers. Player 1 (Il-nam) and Player 240 (Ji-yeong) each find their own way to beat the game by essentially backing out of the competition during marbles. In exchange for friendship and choosing the circumstances of their own deaths, Ji-yeong and Il-nam each make their own, ethically sound choice under this miserable system. Il-nam gets an asterisk since he was never going to die, but he still found a choice beyond merely “kill” or “be killed” by teaching his Gganbu one “last” lesson and helping him continue on in the game. 

In the end, Gi-hun confounds the VIPs and the Front Man by coming to the precipice of victory and simply walking away. Under capitalism, this group of incredibly rich men simply could not understand how someone could come so close to claiming their prize, and choose not to. But for Gi-hun, human life always had greater value. Gi-hun followed (Player 67) Sae-byeok’s advice and stayed true to himself, refusing to actively take anyone’s life, especially not the life of his friend. 

Squid Game’s Ruling Class

Since the competition only exists because of the worst aspects of capitalism, it’s not surprising that in the end, it is itself a capitalist endeavor. Ultra-wealthy VIPs, who mostly seem to be white, Western men, spectate for a price and bet on the game. In their luxury accommodations, they lounge on silent human “furniture” and mistreat service staff. In one notable example, a VIP threatens to kill a server (who the audience knows to be undercover cop Hwang Jun-ho) if he doesn’t remove his mask, even though the VIP knows it would cost the server his life. 

Perhaps most enraging of all is what Player 1, who turns out to actually be the Host, has to say to Gi-hun a year after the game ends. It all circles back to the game’s existential connection to economics; on the one hand, there is the unshakeable link to a population in which a significant portion of people suffer from dire financial woes. On the other hand, there is the Host and his cronies, the ultra-rich who are so bored from their megarich lives that they decided to bet on deadly human bloodsport for fun just so they could feel something again, as though they were betting on horses. 

In spite of the enormous gulf between the two, the Host attempts to draw comparisons between the ultra-wealthy and the extreme poor, saying both are miserable. His little joke denies the reality of hunger, early death, trauma, and many other ways that being poor is actively harmful, both physically and mentally. It’s the kind of slow death that makes risking a quick one in the arena seem reasonable. He and his buddies were just kind of bored. Moreover, the Host denies the role of economic coercion in players taking part in the game, insisting that everyone was there of their own free will. But what free will can there be for people who owe millions, with families at home to care for and creditors at their back, when someone comes along and offers a solution, even a dangerous one? Anyone who has taken a dodgy job offer to get away from a worse one, or because they’re unemployed and the rent and college loans are due, knows that there is a limit to how truly free our choices can be when we need money, especially if there’s little to no safety net. 

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Throughout the series, it is clear that someone had to be funding Squid Game at a high level. Unlike science fiction or fantasy takes, the show is grounded in our current reality, so the large-scale, high-tech obstacles and the island locale must have cost a pretty penny. Of course for any who see it as unrealistic, consider the example of Jeffrey Epstein, a man who bought an island from the US government and ran a sexual abuse and human trafficking ring not entirely disimilar (though far more pedestrian in its purpose) from this one. 

The Host is able to pay for everything because he works in – you guessed it – banking. It’s a profession where he gained wealth by moving capital around. Given the Korean debt crisis – South Korea has the highest household debt in the world, both in size and growth – his profession makes him a worthy villain, in the same way the Lehman Brothers were after the 2008 crash. The bank executive calls in Gi-hun to offer him investment products and services, because of course someone with 45 billion won can accrue significantly more money passively, and who wouldn’t want that? Gi-hun’s decision to walk away is a callback to his earlier attempt to walk away from Squid Game when millions of dollars was within his grasp.

Throughout the series, the people running the game actively pit the players against one another in much the same way capitalism pits workers against one another. Whether they’re giving the players less food to encourage a fight overnight, the daily influx of cash every time another player dies, or giving them knives for the evening, the mysterious people pulling the strings want the players to fight each other like crabs in a barrel so they can’t work together to figure out what’s going on or take on the guys in red jumpsuits. Though there are notable examples of the players working together to succeed, it is always within the rules of the system. It is never treated as a viable or likely option for the players to team up and take the blood money literally hanging over their heads or to prevent death, merely to redirect it or choose how they will die. No, to win that, they must play the Squid Game’s rules. 

In our society, this kind of worker-vs-worker rhetoric takes the form of employers telling workers their workload is harder or they can’t go on vacation or get a raise because of fellow employees who leave or go on maternity leave.. In reality, these are all normal aspects of managing a business that employers should plan for, and their failure to do so is not the fault of their workers. Much like in Squid Game, it benefits managers and owners if workers are too busy being mad at each other to have time or energy to fight the system and those who make unjust rules in the first place. 

Squid Game’s Managers

The Front Man insists the game is fair, gruesomely hanging the dead bodies of those involved in the organ harvesting scheme because they traded medical knowledge for advanced intel on the game. However, like capitalism, there are many ways that the system is clearly rigged, no matter what the people at the top insist. There’s the obvious corruption in the organ harvesting ring, but even at its “purest” form, the game is not equitable. Sometimes the managers and soldiers in red jumpsuits stand by when unfair things happen, like Deok-su and his cronies stealing food. At other times, the people in charge intervene in player squabbles, like enforcing nonviolence during marbles and elections but encouraging violence at other times. They especially set things up to their own advantage, such as cutting the lights so the players couldn’t see the glass in the penultimate game, or the way they set up the election. Everyone knew how everyone else voted, they shared the total amount of money immediately beforehand, in an attempt to sway votes, calling to mind Amazon’s scare tactics before the recent unionization vote.

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Ultimately, much like any manager/employer, the Front Man’s insistence on fairness has nothing to do with the actual value of equality, but rather the capitalist need to ensure betters are happy with the stakes and their chance at a favorable outcome. 

Even the workers, soldiers and managers in red jumpsuits, who seem to be in charge, are ultimately only in power (and alive) so long as they serve the needs of the system. Like so many low-level managers, many wield their tiny amount of power ruthlessly, shooting players with impunity or running their organ harvesting side gig. It soon becomes clear that they’re as expendable as players, if not moreso, and the Front Man shoots them without hesitating. A player asks (and it’s too bad we never learned) what “they” did to the people in red jumpsuits to get them to run this game, but it’s not too hard to guess. They seem to be very young men, who likely needed money and wouldn’t be missed if they never returned. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The biggest trick capitalism ever pulled was convincing workers it’s a zero-sum game, that anything we want but don’t have is the fault of someone else who “took it” from us. Within the game, that means every player was a living obstacle to the money, and that Gi-hun should kill his childhood friend to succeed and celebrate when he’s done. But as we see after he “wins,” even without taking Sang-woo’s life himself, the money isn’t worth it. The greater success would have been both men walking out of the arena alive.

The post Squid Game’s Scathing Critique of Capitalism appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[maybeimamuppet]

the second first date

this week on ezzy can’t title: this. quick tw for brief discussion of self harm and a mentioned suicide attempt, but this is 99.9999% cute fluff.

-

Cady had a tendency to talk in her sleep, as Janis had learned during several sleepovers. Most of the time it didn't make sense to Janis (or Cady the next morning) but wasn't particularly concerning. Things like:

"Janis. I hate oranges." Good to know. Or, "Janis, the birds are back." Mildly alarming, but they she didn't seem bothered by them. Or, "Janis, why do we have eyebrows?" A valid question.

Occasionally it was cute little things, like:

"Janis, you're my favorite." Janis had to fight to contain a squeal. Or, "You're so pretty." Janis just blushed violently and continued listening. Or, "I need more snuggles." Obviously, Janis pulled her closer and kissed her forehead.

And every once in a while it was something particularly ominous that kept Janis lying awake after, like:

"When did I die?" Huh? Past tense? Or, "How does it know?" How does what know? Or, "Don't mess with me, I know lions." A genuine threat, thankfully not aimed at Janis (she hopes).

Which is why Janis is more than a little concerned when Cady suddenly sits bolt upright in the middle of the night, Janis bracing herself for whatever strange things will come out of Cady's sleep addled mind next. But then Cady turns to her, and she's awake.

"I never got to take you on a surprise date. Our first date was your turn, I never got my turn," She says blearily, eyes full of genuine concern.

"Shh, baby. You can start planning your surprise date in the morning. Go back to sleep, it's late, Princess," Janis croons, pulling Cady back into her embrace.

"Mmkay," Cady hums, seeming content with that as she tucks herself into Janis' neck and falls back asleep almost immediately.

-

When Janis wakes up the next morning, Cady is already at her desk, scribbling away in a notebook. "Why are you all the way over there?" Janis whines sleepily, reaching for her.

"Because you pushed me out of bed and stole all the blankets, you loon. I figured I might as well get started planning," Cady giggles, coming back over for their morning cuddles.

"What do you have so far?" Janis asks, her voice still rough with sleep.

"The whole point is that it's a surprise, Jay. You'll find out when it happens," Cady answers, pulling Janis into her lap.

"Fine," Janis grumbles. She likes knowing things. "When is it happening?"

"Saturday?"

Janis checks her calendar on her phone, sometimes her mom makes her watch her sister on Saturdays. "Works for me, baby," She answers when nothing appears.

"Good," Cady answers. She's has about a week to prepare now, which she needs. She only came up with half an idea.

-

One Janis goes home, Cady immediately pulls out her phone and sends a text to her group chat with the former Plastics.

africabytoto: Guys, I'm taking Janis on a date Saturday and I only came up with an idea for part of it, can you help me????

Gretchen, as always, answers first.

fetchen: You could just take her to dinner or something?? That's always nice

It does sound nice, but not quite right. Janis' ideas were both perfect, Cady wants to do even better for her.

ofmiceandkaren: Gretch took me to a bookstor on our first date!! I picked a storie and she red it to me by the pond! 📷‍📷️‍📷‍📷📷📷📷📷

africabytoto: Aww, that's so cute! Nice name btw

ofmiceandkaren: thanks !! I picked Of Mice and Men but spoylers, ❌📷 it is not even about mice. Gretchie sayd I shuld make it my name anyway 📷📷

That idea is much more Janis, she loves to read, but it still doesn't feel quite right. Maybe they'd do it on another date. Ironically, Regina comes up with the best idea.

bowdownbitches: the fair just opened for the year, you could take her there. Janis loves roller coasters and stuff. or she used to, anyway.

africabytoto: Gina that's perfect!!!! Thanks guys, I'll see you at lunch tomorrow 📷📷

Cady's only seen fairs in movies and has always wanted to go to one, so it's a slightly selfish endeavor, but she does remember hearing Janis rave about them.

——-

When Saturday finally rolls around, Janis is slightly panicked. Cady only told her to wear good walking shoes and dress "decent but not fancy", as if Janis had any idea what that meant. Damian was out of town for the weekend, so she can't ask him to dress her like she normally does.

Then she remembers that she has a baby sister who is actually very good with fashion for her age, so she goes to the top of the stairs to call for her.

"Juju!"

"What?"

"Can you come pick my outfit for my date tonight?"

And suddenly her sister is barreling up the stairs top speed, nearly plowing her down. Apparently she's excited. Janis leads her to her bedroom, opening her closet and dresser drawers for Juliana to dig through.

"Gimme your phone," Julie says once she enters.

"Why?" Janis asks suspiciously, but unlocking and handing it over anyway.

"So I can ask Cady where she's taking you, duh," Julie answers.

Julie taps into her messages, scowling a little at the Cady Girl 📷📷 contact name. Gross.

Jellybean: hey it's julie, janny asked me to pick out her clothes, can u tell me where ur taking her?? i'll delete the messages so she doesn't see

Caddy Cakes: Haha I believe it, but prove it's really you first. Janis is sneaky like that.

Juliana snaps a selfie of herself making a peace sign, showing Janis laying face down on her bed in the background.

Jellybean: Sent a picture: crisis mode Janis feat. me

Caddy Cakes: Aww poor thing D:

Caddy Cakes: I'm taking her to that pottery painting place and then to the fair.

Jellybean: god you two are so sappy. thanks, cady

Caddy Cakes: Not a problem, just make sure to delete these!! Love ya kiddo 📷️

Though she's loathe to admit it, that does get a grin out of her as she deletes the messages and passes the phone back to her sister.

Juliana goes to root through the drawers first, pulling out Janis' favorite swirly tights and a white long sleeved shirt with black roses painted onto it. She lays them on the bed and goes to the closet next, pulling out a plain black skirt, Janis' doc martens, and one of her painted denim jackets.

"Go put this on and then I'll do your hair and stuff," Julie demands, shoving the pile at her sister.

"Yes, ma'am," Janis says, immediately heading into the bathroom and putting everything on. Julie did very well, as she always does.

Once she comes back, her sister sits her on the ground to do her hair, pulling it to the side opposite her shave and braiding it loosely over her shoulder as she tells Janis what makeup to do. It's almost exactly what she normally does, but with black lipstick instead of her usual purple.

It's a rather monochrome look other than the jacket, but Janis decides she's into it as she looks in the mirror. She goes over to ruffle her sister's hair in thanks, barely getting to before the doorbell rings.

Julie rushes past her to get the door before Janis can, throwing the door open and wrapping her arms around Cady's waist. It had taken her a long time to forgive Cady for what she had done to her sister, but once they started dating Cady had tried very hard to form a bond with her. It had worked.

"Oof," Cady grunts as an eleven year old that's roughly the same size as she is suddenly collides with her. "Hey, mini Jay. How are you?"

"Good. Janis is losing it." Julie answers as she lets her go, hiding behind her to avoid Janis' wrath as she yells "Watch it, kid!" from the top of the stairs on her way down.

"Hi, lovey," Cady coos from where she stands in the doorway, instantly melting away Janis' tough facade and earning her a small scowl from Juliana. "You did good, Jules. These are for you, by the way." She says, handing the little one a small bouquet of pink roses.

"You look cute," Janis says once her sister runs away to find a vase with a happy squeal. She really does, Cady's in a grey jumpsuit with a pink leather jacket on top and her white high tops, and her hair is styled in the same way it was when they first met. Janis always loved that little braid crown.

"So do you. Juju really did a good job," Cady purrs, cupping her cheek with her free hand to finally kiss her. "Is your mom home? These are for her," She says, brandishing a larger bunch of tulips.

"I think she's in the kitchen. Mama!" Janis calls, her mother appearing down the hall. Janis just gestures to the flowers.

"Yes? Oh, hi Cady. Ooh, these are beautiful, thank you, hon," She says, taking them and hugging her gently.

"You're welcome, Ms. Sarkisian," Cady answers, returning her embrace. She's also had to work pretty hard to get Janis' moms trust back. She's incredibly thankful Ms. Sarkisian was so forgiving.

"I've told you to call me Ettie, doll. Ms. Sarkisian just makes me feel old," She tuts, Cady knowing there's no way in hell she'll ever be able to refer to her girlfriend's mother by her first name, and especially not a nickname. "Janis, can I expect you home tonight?"

Janis looks at Cady, who shakes her head. "No, I'm gonna spend the night at her house if that's okay," She answers.

"Of course it is. Just be safe and responsible, you know my boring rules," Ms. Sarkisian responds, handing over her always-ready sleepover bag. "I love you, baby girl. Have fun, ladies. Call if you need anything." She pushes them towards the door after Janis hugs her goodbye tightly.

"Your mom is the best," Cady says once they're alone on the porch. "Anyway, theeeeese are for you." She hums as she grabs a bundle of something from the bench next to them.

Janis had been a little confused as to why her mom and sister had gotten flowers and not her, but it makes a bit more sense when she looks to see the bouquet of... paintbrushes?

"You remembered what brand of brushes I use?" Janis asks, almost in awe. The brushes are tied together with a little purple ribbon, the bow a little sloppy. A personal Cady touch.

"Kind of. I remembered what they looked like from watching you paint all the time and then just wandered around some craft stores for, like, two hours until I found ones that matched," her girlfriend answers.

Janis is touched. "I- thank you, baby. I've been needing new ones," she mumbles, touching the soft end of one gently before leaning down to kiss her. She's a little worried, those brushes are kind of expensive.

"You're welcome, darling. Now let's go, we're gonna have fun!" Cady cheers, dragging her towards her little car by the hand and opening the door for her.

Cady is going into her maps app as Janis buckles her seatbelt, tapping a few times to get directions to the first destination. Suddenly, the loud, robotic voice of Siri reverberates through the car, saying, "Starting route to You're Kilning Me! Pottery House," and making them both jump.

Janis starts practically cackling as Cady frantically tries to stop Siri ruining the surprise, yelling "SHUCK!" over the voice. "It was supposed to be a surprise," she pouts once the phone finally goes quiet.

"Oh, baby, it's okay. I still don't know the second part," Janis offers, as Cady genuinely looks distressed. "And I've never been there before, so it's still kind of a surprise."

"Fine," Cady grumbles. "Do you actually want to go here? We can go do something else if you think it's lame."

"No! Baby, this sounds fun," Janis comforts, pulling her into a hug across the center console. "I'm always down to paint, you picked this because you knew I would like it. Let's go decorate some cute little trinkets." She pecks Cady on the nose gently before letting her go.

"Thanks, Jayjay. Now stop being so nice, tonight's about you," Cady demands, taking her hand as they pull out of the driveway.

"As you wish, Peanut," Janis giggles.

——

The place isn't totally Janis' vibe, but she does have to admit it's very cute. The walls are a lime green and covered in various colored handprints, and there's shelves with hundreds of white figurines ready to be decorated.

"So... I thought we could pick and decorate something for each other? If you want," Cady says shyly, squeezing Janis' hand gently.

"Of course I want, Princess. That sounds adorable. Now close your eyes, it should be a surprise," Janis says, letting Cady go to browse the shelves. "No peeking."

Cady covers her eyes with a giggle. "Okay, Jay, I won't."

Janis looks for a minute, nearly picking a little lion piggy bank before remembering Cady already has so many lion things. She finds a butterfly figurine, looking as if it's about to take off, tucked away on one of the lower shelves. Butterfly is her personal favorite nickname for Cady. It's perfect.

She tucks it into her jacket so Cady can't see it before going and pulling her hands off her eyes. "Your turn, Peanut," she says, finding a table that has a divider in so they can paint their things without the other seeing.

Cady comes to find her a few minutes later, resting her jacket over the back of her seat and plopping herself down. Janis hears a little clink as Cady rests whatever ceramic thing she's picked on the table.

An overly cheerful employee comes over to give them their palettes and bottles of glaze, as well as a little chart explaining how many layers to apply for different results. Janis immediately goes for magenta, purple and dark blue, deciding to paint one of the wings of her butterfly as the bi flag. Cady's been wanting more pride stuff.

Cady watches Janis work for a second before remembering she also has something to decorate. She found a coffee mug with a matching coaster in the shape of a paint palette, which is very Janis. She loves coffee.

One by one Cady works her way through the colors of the rainbow, painting little heart-shaped paint splotches on the coaster and colorful drips down the side of the mug. Janis looks a little confused as to what she could be doing with all those colors, but doesn't question it. Cady decides to take a break once she finishes her first layers, watching Janis who is working intently and chattering away at the same time.

"What are you looking at?" Janis asks once she notices her, switching to grab some yellow glaze.

"My beautiful girlfriend," Cady flirts, laughing when Janis flushes with a slightly embarrassed squeak.

"You're not so bad yourself, babe," She manages once she's recovered.

"Thank you, Jay. So what do you think of this place? Be honest," Cady says, grabbing a thin brush and some black glaze to continue decorating the mug.

"It's cute! I'm having fun, we should come back here sometime," Janis answers as she starts sketching some little in-jokes about their relationship on the butterfly's other wing. She's kind of regretting painting it yellow; the colors don't really go together, but yellow is Cady's favorite.

"Good," Cady hums. "But I'm more excited for the next part."

"Where are we going next?" Janis coaxes.

"Nice try. One part of this date is going to be a surprise or so help me," Cady grumbles as she very carefully brushes 'I love you' on the very bottom of the inside of the mug.

"Fine," Janis fake-pouts, moving now to paint the legs and antennae of the butterfly.

-

Once they finish putting the final layers of glaze on, they carefully bring up their beautiful creations (one at a time to maintain the surprise) to the front desk to be fired. Cady would pick them up once they were done in about a week.

Cady makes Janis wait outside the car as she puts in the GPS information to keep the location a surprise, and starts digging through her bag for something as Janis is finally allowed to slide into her seat.

Eventually she finds what she was looking for, brandishing a bandana to be used as a blindfold.

"Kinky," Janis teases as she begrudgingly takes it and ties it around her eyes.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, you loser," Cady huffs, reaching out to tickle Janis to make sure she can't see anything. She apparently can't, because she shrieks with laughter as Cady's hand wiggles over her ribcage before grabbing it to hold, lacing their fingers together.

Cady reaches to turn the radio on to keep Janis entertained, giving her hand a squeeze before unfortunately letting go to drive safely.

——

Cady hops out first once she parks, going around to Janis' side and helping her out before spinning her around and untying the blindfold.

Janis blinks a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the light before letting out an excited gasp at what she sees. They have about half an hour before the sun starts to go down, and they're surrounded by neon lights, loud noises, and delicious smells. It's beautiful.

"The fair?!"

"Yeah! Um, I couldn't come up with anything other than the pottery place and Regina said you liked roller coasters." Cady says, almost nervously.

"I do! This is tits, let's go in, come on!" Janis pecks her cheeks a few times excitedly before grabbing her hand and hurrying towards the gates. Cady realizes distantly that she left her jacket in the car. Oh well. It's May now, and it's a warm evening. She'll probably be fine.

Cady buys their entry wristbands, getting the kind that allow them to go on as many rides as they want. She fumbles with hers for a minute before Janis tenderly takes her hand, fastening the paper bracelet around her wrist and pressing a kiss to her palm.

"Thanks, love. Where do you want to go first?" Cady asks, lacing their fingers together and swinging their arms back and forth.

"Can we ride that?" Janis asks, pointing to the single largest coaster present. Cady's never been on a roller coaster before, but how bad could it be?

"Sure," Cady hums, looking up at the massive metal structure. "Let's go."

Janis makes Cady stand by the height measurement sign as a joke, taking a picture as Cady pouts. "I'm not that small," She huffs.

"Baby, you're barely a foot over the height requirement. You're always gonna be my little Peanut," Janis hums, squishing her in a tight hug as they stand in line.

"I like being Peanut, I guess," Cady sighs jokingly. She actually kind of likes being small, it has its uses. Like for cuddles.

Janis chooses the very front seats, wiggling excitedly as they get harnessed in.

Once they reach the top of the first hill, Cady decides she does not like roller coasters as much as she thought she would. This thought continues as they hurtle around the track, going much faster than Cady appreciates. She thinks they go upside down at one point, but by that time her eyes are so tightly shut that she's not totally sure.

"That was tits!" Janis cheers as they finally come to a blessed stop, helping Cady out of the cart.

"Uhhuh," Cady mumbles, trying to stop her hands shaking. Janis turns to look at her once they're a ways away, surprised to find her much more pale than normal and her clear blue eyes wide and frightened.

"Oh, baby," She hums, pulling Cady into a tight hug. "You didn't like it?" Cady shakes her head frantically and buries her face into Janis' chest. "Shh, it's okay. We won't go on any more. You pick what we do next."

"No, this is your date. You get to pick everything," Cady says, calming in Janis' tight embrace.

"I pick we do something you want. You look miserable," Janis says, pulling her back gently to kiss a few freckles.

"Thanks," Cady says sarcastically. "Can we go check out the game thingies?"

"Sure, angel. I bet I'll win you a stuffed animal first," Janis says, taking her hand and leading them towards the stalls.

Cady winds up winning first, her muscle memory from Africa helping her win the dart toss. She picks a sloth with velcro paws, taking it and wrapping the arms around Janis in a little hug. Janis wins the water shooting one, picking a big alpaca shaped thing with yellow fur. Cady takes it excitedly, squeezing it tightly. It's very squishy and soft.

Cady's recovered enough by that point to go on a few tamer rides, so Janis leads them over to something called the Scrambler. It looks sort of like some kind of sea monster, with multicolored carts that spin around and are also orbiting a central structure. She holds Janis' hand as well as the bar holding them in, still nervous from her encounter with the coaster.

But once they get going, Cady loves it. Feeling the wind hitting her face reminds her of being on the Jeeps in Africa, and the motion makes her stomach flip in a way she enjoys this time. Janis is just watching her as they go around, smiling widely as Cady laughs freely the whole time.  Gradually, they come to a stop, Cady cheering "Again! Again!" once they finally come to a complete standstill. Janis obliges, taking her hand to get them back in the short line. The Scrambler is one of her favorites, too.

Janis asks if she'd like to try going on some massive slides, Cady looking up at them curiously. They're about as high up as the roller coasters, but people seem to be moving much more slowly down them, so she agrees to try them at least once. They get in line, Janis grabbing a rug for them to go on together. They start climbing the many, many stairs to the top, both of them puffing slightly by the time they're led over to their slide.

Janis lays their mat down, holding it down for Cady to get on before following after her. She pulls Cady closer to her, pressing her chest against her back and holding her around the waist. Cady holds onto the handles of the mat and the worker gives them a gentle push to get them finally going. Cady giggles the whole way down, which was Janis' goal. They're going so quickly they nearly crash into the wall at the bottom, Cady barely managing to stick her feet out at the last second. The force knocks Janis down flat on her back, Cady following and tipping her head upside down to grin widely at her.

"That was fun!" Cady cheers, standing and holding her hand out to help Janis up.

"Do you want to go again?" Janis asks, knowing the look in her eyes well by this point. Cady nods shyly, Janis just taking her hand and leading them back to the end of the line. She's noticed Cady only seems to have an issue with height and speed at the same time, one or the other is okay.

Once they've gone on everything at least once, they decide to finally get some dinner. As they walk over to the food stalls, Cady tucks her alpaca under one arm and holds out the other to Janis. "Hey, can you hold this for me?"

Janis turns from a few paces ahead, thinking she's talking about the stuffed animal until she looks down. "Your hand?"

"Yeah," Cady nods seriously. Janis takes it with a chuckle.

"You're such a dork, I love you."

"I love you too, but I'm very hungry, let's go," Cady begs, tugging on Janis' hand.

"Okay, okay, slow down," Janis laughs.

Cady really wants to try a funnel cake, so she buys one for them to share while Janis gets a bucket of macaroni and cheese and some fried Oreos.

They feed each other little bites of the mac and cheese, stealing a few kisses every now and again in between. Once that's done, Cady pulls their plate of various fried goodness over and just stares at it. Janis tears off a bit of the funnel cake for her to try, getting her fingers sticky with the powdered sugar.

Cady tries it and her eyes go even wider than they did on the roller coaster. That's delicious. Janis laughs at her reaction, but supposed she should've known. Cady loves sweets.

"That's so good!" Cady squeals, almost shaking as the sugar starts to hit. She immediately tears off another bigger piece.

"It's fried dough and sugar, of course it's good," Janis teases, tearing off a chunk for herself. "Now try one of these."

She hands Cady one of the fried Oreos, Cady taking it and nibbling at it almost nervously. It is also delicious, but almost too sweet for her tastes. She likes the cake better. Janis takes the other one, immediately shoving the whole thing in her mouth.

"Oh, Jesus, I shouldn't have done that," She says once she's swallowed it. "No regrets."

Cady gathers up all the trash once they finish, throwing it in a garbage can nearby before turning to her girlfriend. "You have sugar on your lip, come here."

Janis thinks she's just going to wipe it away, letting out a startled squeak when Cady suddenly pulls her behind a stall, pushing her up against it and kissing her hungrily. Usually Janis is the one initiating this kind of thing, but she's certainly not complaining at Cady taking charge.

They're both panting by the time they break apart, looking more than a little disheveled. Janis had noticed Cady's soft skin was rather cold to the touch, and when they pull back she can see her shivering. "Baby, where's your jacket?" She asks, concerned they lost it somewhere.

"I left it in the car," Cady mutters, leaning into her for warmth. "But if I go get it I won't be able to get back in. I'm fine."

She's clearly not, her teeth are almost chattering. Cady's still not totally used to how cold it can get in Illinois. It's almost totally dark now, and very chilly.

Janis pulls off her jean jacket and wraps it around Cady. She's swimming in it, the oversized fabric practically swallowing her tiny girlfriend. Cady's hands don't even come out the sleeves.

Janis notices Cady's jacket paws moving, she's flapping her hands. That's a stim she only does when she's either very upset or very excited, and judging by the wide, delighted grin splitting her face, it's the latter.

"I love you," Cady suddenly hums, throwing her arms around Janis tightly.

"I love you too, baby. So much," Janis says, squeezing her back and kissing her hair softly. "They're gonna close soon, is there one more thing you want to do before we go?"

"The ferris wheel? I've never been on one," Cady hums, resting her chin on Janis' chest and looking up at her.

Janis really does not like ferris wheels, but she can't resist those big blue eyes blinking up at her. She supposes she can make an exception.

"Fine, but if we get stuck up there you have to cuddle me the whole time, I'm scared of heights," She says, taking her hand and leading them towards the large circle illuminated by colorful lights. It is rather pretty, from the ground anyway.

They get in line just before the cutoff for the night, Cady staring up at the massive structure with wide, curious eyes. Janis is strangely comforted seeing that almost childlike wonder on her face. Cady deserves to experience it at least once, even if she does have to spend it holding Janis the whole time so she doesn't panic.

Janis is further comforted when their cart is purple, which is her favorite color. Unfortunately, any semblance of safe feelings leave the second they start moving, Janis clinging to Cady's arm.

"How did you enjoy that roller coaster and the slides if you're so scared of heights, Jellybean?" Cady asks, holding onto her girlfriend tightly.

"Because the height doesn't last on stuff like that, you're just up there to get going and then it's done," Janis huffs. Cady gets distracted once they hit the very top, gasping excitedly at the view and reaching for her phone to take a picture.

She snaps a few before turning it around to selfie mode, leaning in to cup Janis' cheek with her other hand and kiss her gently as she takes another few photos like that. "Thanks for letting me come up here, Jay. We only have to go around one more time before we can get off."

"It's okay, baby. It's actually really pretty up here. As long as you don't look down," Janis hums, leaning in for one more peck. She breathes a sigh of relief as they approach the ground and gives another sharp exhale as they go up again.

Sure enough, once they reach the tip-top, the ride screeches to a halt, and a voice calls up from the bottom to tell them they're stuck up there indefinitely.

"Ah, fuck," Janis groans. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen.

"Oh no," Cady says, concerned for Janis. "Um... we could play a game? To pass the time?"

That doesn't sound terrible, but they don't have anything to play a game with up here.

"Like what?" Janis asks, trying to keep the tremble from her voice. Focus on Cady.

"Um... we could go back and forth and say something about ourselves that the other one doesn't know yet?" Cady hums anxiously, holding Janis tightly.

That doesn't exactly sound like a game, but it would work well enough to keep Janis' mind off the fact that she's dangling  thirty-odd feet in the air in a heavy cart.

"You go first," Janis says, tucking her face into Cady's neck.

"Okay," Cady chuckles, kissing her head and running her fingers through Janis' hair gently. "Um... Od uoy wonk I nac klat sdrawkcab?"

"What the fuck?" Janis says, pulling back to look at Cady's smug grin.

"I can talk backwards. Any word," Cady says.

"Wh- How do you do that?" Janis asks in awe.

"I dunno. When I was learning how to read I taught myself to do it backwards too. Don't ask, I was an odd kid. I just picture the word in my head and then flip it around," Cady answers.

"Prove it," Janis challenges. "Say... um... what's my name backwards?"

"Sinaj," Cady says immediately.

"I love you."

"I evol uoy."

"Peanut butter."

"Tunaep rettub."

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard, that's so cool," Janis squeals.

"Thanks," Cady giggles. "Your turn."

"Oh boy, um... did you know about these?" Janis asks, pulling her two half-heart necklaces from where they're tucked inside her shirt.

"I've seen them but I've never read what they say," Cady says, taking them gingerly to read the charms. One says 'big sis' and the other has been painted to say half of what she can only assume is 'best fucking bitches'. "Who has the other pieces? Julie?"

"No, Damian," Janis answers, which makes Cady burst out laughing.

"That's so cute," She says breathlessly once she's calmed down. "My turn then, um. Do you know how I got my name? Or the spelling of it, anyway.

Janis shakes her head. She loves her Cady with a C and a D and a Y, but it is a little strange.

"This is just what my mom told me so it could be a joke, she likes to mess with me a lot. But she got to name my brother so she let my dad name me, and he was in a band when she was pregnant with me. He wanted to give me a sort of musical name like Harmony or something, so he picked Cadence and my mom said yes as long as it could be Cady on my birth certificate. She thought he'd regret it eventually and wanted me to have a more 'normal' nickname," She says.

Janis tries to imagine Mr. Heron, the dorkiest, kindest, shyest man she knows in a band. Does not compute. "That... kind of makes sense, actually, other than your dad being in a band. Did they ever call you Cadence?"

"Actually, yeah, when I was really little my dad always called me that. And when I got in trouble back in Kenya that's what they called me," Cady says, looking as if the secret to the universe has been revealed to her. The story must be true, then.

"That's wild as hell, Chip Heron in a band," Janis says, also looking a little shell-shocked. They'd have to ask him about it later. "My turn. Did you know Gretchen comes to the gym with me sometimes?"

"No, really? That's so sweet," Cady coos.

"Yeah, she asked me a while ago if she could come with me every once in a while to help her anxiety and stuff. She does more cardio and things like that than I do, but we spot each other when we need to and I started going to a yoga thing she does. It's kind of nice to have a workout buddy."

"Aww," Cady says. "I'm glad you guys are becoming friends again."

"Honestly, I am too. Gretchen really isn't so bad. She gushes about Karen all the time too, so I like getting to hear all the juicy stuff about them," Janis chuckles. "Your turn, Peanut."

"I can't think of anything," Cady whines after thinking for a second. "You think of something you want to know about me."

"Okay, I can do that," Janis hums pensively. "Were you born in Kenya?" She asks after a while. Cady's never mentioned anything before her life in Africa.

"No, we didn't move there until I was three, I was born in Oregon. We've always followed my parents' work," Cady answers. "My parents always said it was very exciting having a toddler who wouldn't talk to anyone running around the tents."

"You must've been so cute," Janis says, wondering if she can con Cady into showing her some baby photos.

"I was," Cady answers as Janis makes the mistake of peeking over the edge, snapping back over with wide, terrified eyes. "Oh, darling, why would you look down? Come here."

Janis thinks she's about to pull her into another hug, surprised when Cady pulls her mouth to hers and kisses her softly. Desperate to forget that they're stuck very high in the air, Janis kisses her back eagerly, her girlfriend responding in kind. Janis has always wanted to make out with someone on a ferris wheel.

One of Cady's hands cradles Janis' jaw, thumb stroking comfortingly over her cheek, and her other arm is wrapped securely around Janis' waist to hold her close and safe. Janis flicks her tongue at the seam of Cady's lips, tangling a hand in her auburn curls as she does. Cady lets her in, nipping softly at her bottom lip to tease. Janis would very much like to continue this when they're on the ground.

She's so lost in her girlfriend she almost managed to forget they were still stuck, until there's a deafening clank and a terrifying sort of metallic grinding sound. She pulls back with a startled squeak as they start moving, lipstick noticeably smeared as she buries her face in her girlfriends shoulder. At least they're almost out.

There's a sort of off-brand Snoopy down by the exit, Janis sinking into a hug with him and just repeating, "Snoopy it was so bad. We were stuck up there, Snoopy." For a while until Cady drags her away. Snoopy waves at them almost sadly as he watches them go.

——-

Once they're in the car on the way back to Cady's house, Janis realizes that Cady told her one more fact than Janis told her. She knows Cady likes things to be even, so she decides to level it out.

"Hey, we stopped the game before we told the same number, do you want to hear one more from me?"

"I always want to know more about you, Jayjay," Cady answers, focusing on the road.

"Okay, have you seen this?" Janis asks once they're at a stoplight, shuffling her left sleeve down to reveal her small semicolon tattoo on her wrist.

"No," Cady says, tracing the little picture tenderly with her finger. "What does it mean?"

Janis rolls her sleeve down further to reveal the faded scars lining her arm, wincing a little at Cady's sad gasp. Janis thought she at least knew about those, but she doesn't wear short sleeves very often and the scars are very faded.

"I started self-harming after everything happened with Regina in middle school. Damian didn't tell you, but I was actually pulled out for the rest of that year because I was recovering in the hospital from a suicide attempt. I tried to overdose on one of my mom's prescriptions," Janis explains.

"Oh god, Janis," Cady says sadly, gently running her finger over her arm before she has to start driving again.

"I got my stomach pumped in the hospital and my wrists stitched up, so my mom found out I had been cutting and I had to go to an inpatient therapy place. That's how I started art therapy, actually. But once I got out my mom let me pick something cool to do to celebrate, and for some reason she let me get a tattoo even though I was fourteen. She has one that matches."

"That's so sweet," Cady says, heart still hurting for her girlfriend. She came so close to losing Janis before she ever even found her. "Why a semicolon, though?"

"Because I was an English nerd," Janis answers with a sardonic chuckle. "Semicolons and periods are usually interchangeable, an author uses one when they could have ended a sentence but chose not to. I decided I was the author of me, and I wasn't ready to end my sentence yet. It helps to look at it when I'm having a rough time."

"That's beautiful, Janis. Do you, um, still...?" Cady asks quietly.

"No, no," Janis rushes out. "Damian and my sister both made me promise to stop. I've come close a couple times, but I've been clean since the end of sophomore year. I haven't even thought about it in almost a year."

"Good," Cady breathes with relief. "I'm really glad you're still here, Jay. I love you so much."

"I'm glad I'm here too. I think a lot about what I would've missed if... if it had worked, and I'm always so glad it didn't. I love you too, Caddy," Janis says, trying not to cry. Too many emotions for one night.

They spend the rest of the drive home in comfortable silence, Janis playing with Cady's fingers contently once Cady gives her her hand as they get into slower streets of the neighborhood.

Cady goes to greet her parents and hug them goodnight once they enter, Janis heading up to Cady's room to get changed into her pjs. She's glad their parents all trust them enough to let them continue to sleep in the same bed at sleepovers, probably because they only get up to anything raunchy when they're sure nobody's around. She would miss the snuggles if they were separated.

Cady changes into her Lion King pajama set, putting Janis' jacket back on over top and crawling into bed after her with her new alpaca. She switches on the nightlight Janis had gotten her for Christmas, looking up at the colorful swirly patterns it paints on the ceiling.

"You gonna sleep in my jacket?" Janis asks, resting her head on Cady's chest gently.

"Mmhmm! It's comfy. Soft. And it smells like you," Cady hums, pulling her closer.

"What do I smell like?" Janis asks, a little worried.

"Vanilla and paint, but your hair smells like apples," Cady answers drowsily, stroking her fingers through Janis' hair. "Mostly you just smell like home. I know I'm safe whenever I can smell you."

Well that's just about the sweetest thing Janis has ever heard. "You're so precious, you know that?" She asks, tilting her head up to kiss at the underside of Cady's jaw.

"So you tell me," Cady jokes weakly, followed by a yawn. "It's your turn to be little spoon, I'm sleepy."

Janis is frankly amazed that Cady made it this late, it's nearly midnight. She leans up to kiss her goodnight before she turns to face the wall, cuddling with her own new sloth stuffie and feeling her small girlfriend press up against her, squishing her cheek against her back and wrapping an arm tightly around her waist to pull her closer.

"G'night, Jay. I love you," Cady yawns.

"Goodnight, Caddy. I love you too," Janis answers, grinning to herself.

A perfect date with my perfect girl, she thinks as they slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of each other.

-

thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought.

also, disastrously, I am starting to run out of ideas, so please leave any ideas you want to see me write either here, on my wattled, or on my ao3. all are just maybeimamuppet.

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #paint by numbers #space safari #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady heron #janis sarkisian #gretchen wieners #regina george #karen smith #mean girls #mean girls broadway #mean girls musical

[gloriainalbis]

Strangers

Part 3 - Grand Illusion (S1E1+S1E2)

Nathan Young x Reader Words: 4k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex and nudity, drugs  Songs:  Too Much On My Mind - The Kinks I Won’t Hurt You - The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band

“Where are you going, I don't mind I've killed my world and I've killed my time”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Ao3

--

    You’re just about done changing, closing your locker and stepping away to zip up the front of your jumpsuit and fix your hair. It’s just you, Nathan, Curtis, and Simon remaining when Nathan whistles and motions for everyone to huddle up. “So…” he begins seriously, an emotion one does not typically expect from Nathan. “If anyone asks what happened yesterday, we say nothin’, right? It’s just a completely normal day.” You nod in agreement as he looks at each of you in turn.     Having left the locker room, you are now all standing together to await whatever new probation worker was sent to replace Tony after his mysterious disappearance. You try to look as normal as possible, leaning casually against a pillar and definitely not making any sideways glances at your fellow young offenders. It‘s hard to resist the urge.

    A woman walks up to stand before you all, she looks to be about in her early thirties and is dressed simply but well. Her hair is dark, long, and some of it is pulled away from her face. She’s pretty, but by all accounts, a remarkably normal person. You assume she’s the new probation worker, and you’re right. “Gary and my colleague Tony have both been reported missing. Their families are very worried about them. Have you seen anything unusual? Anything at all?” Nathan raises his eyebrows and holds up a finger to catch her attention. “You saw something?” she asks. You desperately want to stop this. Nathan has just told you, moments ago, that you should act like nothing happened yesterday, and yet here he is. He probably isn’t going to tell her the truth, you can’t imagine him ratting everyone out like that, but you can’t imagine him saying anything that would make the situation better, either. “A few days ago…” Kelly shakes her head slightly, trying to get him to stop, and you try to catch his eye to send him a harrowing gaze, but he just barrels on. “I go into the toilets, Tony and Gary were in there. They’re butt naked.” You breathe a sigh of relief that luckily sounded remarkably close to exasperation, which is probably because it was. “Tony has Gary by his hair, like this, an’ he’s just doin’ him, doggy style!” He starts to thrust and grunt, and you put a hand to your cheek, half over your mouth to suppress your involuntary grin. What he’s doing was disgusting, but oddly entertaining. It’s like watching a trainwreck. “And Tony is like ‘Aaagh! Who’s your daddy? I’m your daddy, I’m Big Daddy!’” It’s vulgar, honestly. Nathan gets really into it, making crude motions and grunts, chanting, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, ooooh yeah!” before calling out “I’m daddy cool!” Tony would have presumably finished then, because Nathan stops thrusting to put his hands on his hips and return to his normal posture. “So I’m guessing they’ve ran away to continue their illicit homosexual affair. And I ask you, in this world of intolerance and prejudice, who are we, who are we to condemn them?” He’s on point with the social justice, but now is decidedly not the right time, place, or circumstances. The probation worker says nothing and just walks away. You reach out and shove Nathan. “What the everloving fuck was that?” He gasps indignantly. “I was just trying to act normal!” “If that’s your idea of normal, then there’s somethin’ seriously wrong in your head,” Kelly scolds. “I thought we already knew that,” Curtis agrees, earning a giggle from Alisha.     You all congregate on the roof, standing together, overlooking the lake and office buildings on its far side. Ah, the charming sights of Wertham, an army of identical fifteen-story grey blocks. Nathan takes a drag from his cigarette before smiling, “Well, I think we got away from it.” “Do you actually believe that, or are you just really dumb?” Curtis asks sarcastically, and you snicker. “I actually believe that!” Nathan insists. You had just laughed at him, but there’s something in Nathan’s earnest voice that makes you want to believe it, too. “I mean I was there, right? I should have one of these bullshit powers.” “You can have mine,’ Kelly gripes. “You want to hear what people are thinkin’ about you?” “Not so much, no. I want something good, you know? Something from the A-list.” “Maybe you can fly,” Simon offers quietly. Nathan’s face lights up. “He’s not going to be able to fly,” Alisha reasons. “Yeah, there’s always someone who can fly, check it out!” His confidence in this proposition seems inordinately inflated. “We don’t need you trying to jump off buildings like superman to test it,” you add, knowing full well that Nathan could and would. “Ah, I won’t!” He walks over to a nearby chair, far away from the roof’s ledge, and climbs up. “This has no chance of working, right?” You lean in to whisper to Kelly. “None,” she agrees. Nathan leaps into the air, raising his arms up hopefully, but he just falls to the ground like a sack of bricks, except with the addition of a nasty smack. “Ow! No, that’s not it,” he groans, picking himself up with a childish expression of annoyance on his face. “So what happens now? Is this it?” Curtis asks, turning to look at everyone. “Are we gonna be like this forever?” “What if we’re meant to be, like, superheroes?” Now, you really do want to include Simon more, he seems like a genuinely nice, if chronically shy, person, but his suggestions today are horribly lacking. “You lot, superheroes?” Nathan asks, sounding more jealous than anything. Kelly looked worryingly contemplative, and you’re bothered by how well the story seems to fit. “No offense, but in what kind of fucked up world would that be allowed to happen?” “This world is pretty fucked up,” you point out. “I did not sign up for that,” Alisha exclaims. “Superheroes!” Nathan continues with the thinly-veiled jealousy. “I love this guy, you prick!” “What if there’s loads of people like us all over town?” Kelly askes, and she has a point. It had been a pretty large storm, you couldn’t be the only people who had seen or experienced it, right? Are there other people going about their normal, daily lives discovering their powers right now? “No,” Nathan scoffs, cigarette smoke billowing from his nose. “That kind of thing only happens in America. This will fade away. I’m telling you, by this time next week, it’ll be back to the same old boring shit.” Needless to say, this would not prove to be at all true.     Your task that day is picking up litter, each of you are given a large plastic bag and trash grabber before being set loose on the city, to collect trash with reckless abandon! In reality, you probably won’t even stray far from the community center. As you follow along the edge of the lake, Nathan continues to complain about his lack of a cool new superhero ability. “And what? Because you’re all special and I’m not? Yeah, well I doubt it. You can think what you like, but I have a ‘superpower’” he uses air quotes and says the word in a comically high-pitched valley-girl voice. “I just need to find out what it is.” “Maybe you’re just super retarded!” Alisha proclaims, and a cursory glance at the rest of the group would tell you she isn’t the only one growing annoyed at him. “Maybe I’ve got a whole Spiderman vibe going on, you know?” he continues unabashed. “Maybe I can climb stuff and do spider shit.” “Yeah, cuz that makes perfect sense,” Curtis cuts in. “Why would you be able to climb stuff?” “I don’t know!” Nathan calls back. “How is it that you can turn back time, apparently? And weird kid can turn invisible?” He pokes Simon in the back of the head with his grabber. “It’s not like this whole situation is backed up by a wank-load of logic.”     Later in the morning, you’ve moved all the way from right outside the community center to a tunnel under a nearby bridge. It’s a disturbingly gross place, but its inordinate abundance of trash has led you there, calling to be picked up and sent away to landfill. Curtis peers curiously at something he’s picked up with his grabbers, some sort of melted hunk of plastic. But as he peers, he notices something tucked into a corner not that far away. Something that looks fleshy and pink and remarkably human. “What is that?” he asks, voice dripping with disgust. You scrunch up your nose and move in to get a closer look. “Oh, god…” you groan. It’s a human man, completely naked, lying face down on the pavement. You are suitably disgusted. “Is he breathin’?” Kelly asks. Alisha strides forward without much hesitation and pokes his bare ass with her grabber. “Hey, nude guy!” she calls. “You’re naked!” Your eyes widen and everyone, yourself included lets out cries of protest as he rolls over to reveal himself, full-frontal. It’s not a pretty sight. Simon snapps a photo, you’re not exactly sure why, but documentation seems to be his response to everything so far. “Good lord!” Curtis protests, turning away. “Oh my god!” Alisha laughs, finding it funny more than anything else. Kelly actually turns around completely to avoid seeing any more of it. Nathan’s jaw, however, drops. Realization spreads over both of their faces and Nathan points an accusatory finger at the naked man before crying out, “You?!” The man stands up as fast as he can and bolts, but Nathan is outraged. “Hey!” He tries running after the man, but it’s too late. “Do you want to tell us who that was?” Curtis questions through a chorus of laughter. “He’s my mum’s– He lives with my mum.” He eyes everyone defensively. Alisha chuckles before proclaiming matter-of-factly, “Your stepdad has got a massive cock.” You snicker, even though you don’t want to have to think about it much. It was quite a disturbing image, even more so now that you know he’s close to Nathan’s mum. But… it was true. “Jesus!” Nathan cries in objection. “And he’s not my stepdad, alright?” You hold up your arms in mock surrender, “I assure you, I’m completely ready to forget about that picture, it should be purged from my mind.” Alisha leans closer to you and Kelly, guffawing. “Did you see that thing? That was like monster big!” She locks eyes with Nathan and hisses as if in pain, lowering her voice suggestively. “Your mum will hurt.” “La, la, la! Shut up!” He closes his eyes and literally sticks his fingers in his ears to block out her nasty comments. “Why’s he naked?” Kelly asks, turning to Nathan for the answers he doesn’t have. He gapes, trying to piece it all together, but Alisha speaks up before he can be given the chance. “Well he’s obviously some kind of pervert. Or he’s gay.” You wince at the presumptive, nay, offensive comment, not exactly fond of how it perpetuates harmful stereotypes. Curtis scoffs at her remark, “That follows.” “Well, he was cruising for rough trade!” she explains indignantly. “They love that shit!” “Oh, a little light homophobia? Go for it!” You have to agree with Curtis’ sarcastic reply here for a multitude of reasons, one of which being because you highly doubt Natha’s stepdad is secretly gay. “Or he could be a rapist,” Kelly muses with far too much nonchalance. “There’s loads of ‘em ‘round here.” “Maybe he’s a werewolf,” Simon posits seriously. Everyone sort of sneers at the idea and Nathan certainly isn’t pleased, exclaiming, “Twat!” “It’s what happens in films,” Simon tries to elaborate, growing visibly more nervous by the second. “You turn into a werewolf, you kill someone, an’ then you wake up somewhere naked… Like a zoo.” “He’s not a werewolf, alright?” Nathan protests hotly, defensiveness creeping into the edges of his voice. With the recent storm and all these odd powers, it’s all too likely that Simon’s right, or at the very least eerily close. “This guy is such a pussy, he needs my mum to open jars for him. I’m sure if he was a werewolf, he’d be able to open a jar of peanut butter for himself!” “What happens if the storm messed him up?” Kelly interjects. “Yeah,” you add, agreeing with her not only because it does make some sense, but also because you really want to bother Nathan, “he’s probably only been a werewolf for two days.” “What do you mean probably?” Nathan proclaims. His growing look of disbelief is incredibly amusing. “Well, Alisha had a point…” You look away and raise your eyebrows to insinuate what you mean. “Oh, fuckin’ hell, y/n! You, of all people?” he gapes, and you try not to laugh at his expression. This is far more fun for you than it should be. “Thank you!” Alisha cries, feeling vindicated by your agreement. It isn’t fun to say, but she wasn’t wrong. “That’s bollocks, the storm didn’t do nothin’ to him,” Nathan insists, but it’s starting to sound more like he’s trying to convince himself than you. “What are the chances?” The question hangs uncomfortably in the air. No one answers, and Nathan ends up just rolling his eyes and scoffing before stalking off and getting back to work, picking up trash.     You take a quick shower at the community center before heading home, feeling pretty grimy from searching for and collecting trash all day. Toweling off and gathering your things, you wonder if Nathan’s still around. He walked home with you the past few days and you really did enjoy his company. You decide to take a cursory look around, running into Sally in the process. “Oh, y/n, why’re you still here?” She’d looked to be pretty nice, so you’re surprised by the scrutinizing and cold tone you can hear creeping up behind her words. “I decided to shower before heading home,” you explain, trying to keep your voice as level as possible to allay suspicion. “Have you seen Nathan around?” “Yeah, he was by some vending machines a few minutes ago,” she tells you. “Okay, thanks! Have a good one.” You give her a small wave as you turn down a nearby hall, wondering why her smile doesn’t feel genuine. After about five minutes of searching, you enter a large common area with a raised loft in one corner. It’s there you find Nathan, sitting on the floor with arms resting on the railing and legs dangling over the edge. He’s surprised to see you, suddenly sitting up straighter and adopting the expression of someone caught in a nefarious act. “Oh, Nathan! There you are.” You approach him on the ground below, looking up with a smile. “Y/n!” He looks pleased, but notably apprehensive. “I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to walk home with me?” you ask, growing increasingly suspicious. “Uuuuh, well, I don’t know...” It’s then that you notice the duffel bag and mattress behind him. “Wait, why do you have a mattress? And a bag?” You start to piece together a few pieces of this puzzle. “I’ve only known you for three days, I don’t think we really need to know the intimate details of each other’s personal lives,” he stalls, leaning back to push the bag out of your view. But you aren’t about to give up that easy. “Screw that, what about being bonded by our shared traumatic experience?” You thought you were becoming friends with Nathan and don’t want to give that up so soon. And besides, you feel like you’ve known everyone in your service group for far longer than three days. It’s probably the superpowers and experience of burying your probation worker and fellow young offender together, but you want it to be more than that. Nathan gives in, “Alright, fine, come on up.” He patts the space beside him and you grin, turning to walk up the stairs and join him. Once up there, you have a better view of things. Not only is there a mattress, but also a pillow and blanket, and his half-unzipped bag, which appears to be full of clothes. You sit down next to him, dangling your legs over the edge beside his own. You don’t speak, allowing him to open up when he wants to. A few tense moments pass. “My mum kicked me out after our first day of community service,” he finally admits in a small, defeated voice. “I’m sorry, that sucks,” you murmur in response. While you’ve never actually been kicked out, you always felt that it was just about to happen, and you’ve used up all your chances with your dad and stepmum, once you move out, you know you’ll never be able to live with them again. He nods, “It does. I’ve been sleeping here.” “That’s why you were sneaking out of here yesterday morning,” you realize. “Yeah,” he chuckles, remembering how you caught him climbing out of a window. Then you recall what Nathan said when Tony was taking everyone’s phones. “Is that also why you were expecting a call from your mum?” He nods wordlessly. “Well, did she?” “No,” he shakes his head bitterly. “She’s cut me out.” “That’s bullshit,” you counter. Nathan turns to look at you, perplexed. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.” His face lights up in a worrying surge of confidence. “Yeah! I mean look at me,” he holds his arms up in a strongman pose and grunts while trying to flex. You cannot for the life of you tell if he’s being serious, but he looks absolutely ridiculous, so you burst out laughing. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at,” he continues, unphased. “It’s pathetic!” you wheeze between laughs. He almost snickers, half a chortle making it through his poker-faced veneer. “This’s one’s smasher,” he nods to his left bicep and you snort. “This one’s basher,” he nods to his right bicep. It’s redundant to say that you devolve into a fit of hysterical laughter. “And this one…” he points to his crotch and you shake your head, already wheezing, “is The Destroyer!” That absolutely does it in for you, and Nathan can’t hold it in any longer either, he breaks down laughing with you. After a while, the laughter dies down and you’re simply sitting beside one another in amiable silence. Nathan jumps to his feet and holds out a hand to help you up. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” “But what about…” you motion to all his stuff, but take his hand anyways and stand up. “I’ll walk back later. Now that you’ve become acquainted with where I live, I’d like to see your humble abode.” He grins and begins to walk down the stairs to the room’s main level. “Alright, but beware, my stepmum’s a bitch,” you warn, following after him. “Well, have you ever found her butt naked in a dark alleyway and come to the sudden and disturbing realization that she has gorgeous tits?” You cringe at the thought, “Can’t say that I have.” Nathan is curiously silent for a few moments. “Does she, though? I’m curious,” he muses with a cheeky grin. “Nathan!” you gasp, punching him in the shoulder. “Ow! Point taken! Why do you keep punching me?” he curses, glaring at you with playful indignance. You smile to yourself, pleased. “Because you deserve it and someone has to.”     Together you walk to your house, entirely unsure and uneasy about what will happen next. You grow increasingly anxious as you approach your house. There isn’t really a nice side of Wertham, but your stepmom likes to think you live there anyways. She is wrong, suburban Wertham is just as grungy and seamy as the city itself, it just looks marginally more pleasant. Once you’re at the front door, you stop and turn to Nathan. “Okay, here’s the plan. We go in, we try to get upstairs as quickly as possible. If we see my stepmum, we stay civil and try to get away without offending her. Sound good?” You exhale a deep breath, unsure of whether you should be amping up or calming down. “Yeah, but why do we need a plan?” Nathan asks innocently. “You’ll see,” you explain, opening the door. You aren’t really sure what to expect, to be perfectly honest. Your stepmum barely even wants you there, so you never really push it by bringing home anyone else. In secondary school, the only people you had over were friends you’d made before she married your dad, and thus people she had no real control over your relationship with. But once she was in the picture, you suddenly preferred going over to other people’s houses rather than having them come to yours. Hopefully, things would be different now, with you being an at least semi-autonomous adult. But probably not. You lead Nathan inside the front hall, so far so good, and turn to go up the stairs when things go south. “Ah, ah, ah! Who’s this, y/n?” your stepmum stops you, rushing out from wherever she’d been to literally stand between you and the stairs. “Hullo!” Nathan perks up, smiling broadly and sticking out a hand. “I’m Nathan.” Ah, so when you said ‘civil,’ he’d heard ‘unnervingly polite.’ “He’s from community service,” you explain. She glances down at his hand with mild disgust, and so he drops it. “Well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring those people to his home,” she sneers with a fake smile. “I’m those people,” you point out. Talking back hadn’t been in the plan, but the plan was never going to work anyways. She casts a derisive glance between you and Nathan, “Evidently.” Your dad walks in, then, from the kitchen, holding a casserole between oven-mitted hands. “Oh, y/n! Are you gonna have dinner with the family?” his tone is cheerful, but the insinuation behind his words stings you. “No, I’m clearly not a part of this family,” you murmur, hoping someone will contradict you, but your dad just squirms and looks sort of uncomfortable. No one says anything, even Nathan remains gloriously silent. “Wow! Okay, so we’re going. Bye.” You grab Nathan’s hand and he lets you drag him away. Once outside, though, you drop it and stalk down the street, just trying to get away from your house. Tears prick at your eyes as you allow yourself to break down. It hurts. It hurts to not be included, even if you expected it. That woman had taken so much from you, had pushed you to become what you were and live the life you’d lived just because she expected it. There are people around you, of course, saying that you’re more than that, but when she looks at you like you’re nothing, you feel like nothing. Nathan follows after you, “Hey, y/n, where are we goin’?” “Away!” You call after him. He catches up to you soon after that, when you’re about a block away from your house, grabbing your arm to get you to stop. Neither of you say anything, but he sits down on the curb and motions for you to join him. You do. He puts his arm around your shoulder and you lean into him. He smells like cigarettes, bandaids, and sharpies, and you wonder why, but it distracts you, and so you revel in it. This is the closest you’ve ever been, and even though you’ve only known each other for three days now, you seem to fit perfectly there. Nathan leans his head in closer to you, “You know, if it makes you feel any better, she had really wack tits.” You laugh despite yourself, “It does, actually.” You smile and close your eyes, allowing yourself to become lost in the feeling of his arm around you and the smell of his clothes, which remind you of the community center and of him. You sit there for a few moments, in comfortable silence. “What’re you gonna do now?” he asks. “I’ll just sneak in through my window, the lock’s broken,” you murmur in a quiet voice. He nods but doesn’t move. Eventually, you say your goodbyes and sneak back into your respective living spaces, but for now, you remain in his arms. For now, you’re together.

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