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thepenultimateword · 4 months

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Secret Santa 2023

For this year’s secret Santa I got @watercolorfreckles (I know you got mine too, but I promise I used a randomizer!) I’m sorry this is late, I’ve been traveling and just writing every chance I can get. I got a little overambitious and wrote several scenes instead of just one, so hopefully it doesn’t feel choppy and you like it!

"Hero's shy medic is the unsung and unappreciated glue that keeps the team together, magically repairing their every injury with her power to heal. What happens when Villain finds out how the hero's broken bones are always so quickly mending, and kidnaps the medic to utilize himself?"

Henchman was waiting in baggage claim when Villain arrived. His violet-dyed hair, thick mess of scars, and tall stature made him stand out against the crowd, but he still waved his whole arm over his head as Villain came through the doors.

Villain's glove creaked feelingless against his suitcase handle. This was getting tiresome. Probably for Henchman too. It was ridiculous that he insisted on picking him up from the airport every trip instead of looking for a new employer.

"Any luck?" Henchman said, seamlessly transferring Villain's bag into his own hand.

Villain's insides twisted. Maybe he should fire Henchman. That would force the underling to think about himself. Though Villain couldn't deny his reluctance to lose such loyalty. He wasn't sure he actually had the strength to enforce his own abandonment.

"Nah." He rubbed his numb hands together and forced a lighthearted tone. "Just another waste of money. I spent three weeks meditating away the damage, only for the so-called "power guru" to say I don't want to be healed. Apparently, if I did, I would have been able to banish the "bile" from my body."

Henchman gave the suitcase wheels a little bang against the ground. "Morons and scam artists.”

"Yes, well, it was a 50/50 shot in the first place. How's my bird?"

Henchman grimaced. "Still eating very little. She has stopped beating against her cage, but now she's very lethargic and despondent."

"You've tried cheering her up? Good food, nice things?"

"Yes, but she's not very chatty. Maybe we should have waited to get her until after your trip. This would have gone better with...some stability."

The automatic door swooshed open, and they stepped out into the chill winter air. Villain blew out a long cloudy breath and watched it disappear into the dreary, gray city landscape. Everything was so temporary. Here one moment, gone the next.

"The opportunity was too good," he said. "Besides, we couldn't leave her with our friend."

Hero had enough of an advantage without also having a decent healer on his side. No matter how many hits Villain divvied out, the heroic team always got back up unscathed. Perhaps without their golden goose, Villain could actually turn the tide. And maybe... Villain didn't want to get his hopes up, but maybe she could do something more too. He knew that Henchman knew that was the main reason he’d stolen her away in the first place. By this point he was just pretending to himself that there was a bigger purpose behind it all.

The crosswalk sign beeped its permission to cross the street, and Villain scanned the lot for Henchman's car, spotting its orangey paint job near the front.

"I am concerned she's been doing poorly this whole time. Why don't we stop by her enclosure first."

Henchman nodded and very kindly played along with the act that this was truly concern over an asset and not another cowardly excuse for himself. “I don’t think she’ll be very pleased to see you.”

She’s not going to help you.

“That’s alright.” Villain slid into the passenger seat. As Henchman loaded his suitcase into the trunk, he muttered under his breath, “I don’t have much left to lose.”

***

Villain called her Birdie.

Of course he knew her real title as Hero’s medic, but the nickname just encapsulated her so well.

So small. So skittish. Always flitting around the outskirts of a fight, the great folds of her medic’s cloak flapping at her sides like wings as she lighted briefly at each fallen party. The color was supposed to mark her as a noncombatant, take any targets of her back, but she had the instincts to remain wary always. Most villains didn’t follow the rules, and the gray was as likely to get her killed as not.

So why continue to wear it? Villain wondered, watching her through the one way glass of her cell's wall mirror. It was really more of a mini apartment than a cell--sitting room, bedroom, bathroom. The sitting room was the only room Villain could view into, but he doubted whether Medic knew that. Perhaps it was riskier to give a hostage so much blind space, but anyone worth keeping around couldn't be kept like any regular prisoner. Though, from the looks of it, Medic wasn't exactly grateful for the thoughtful accommodations.

She sat with her face buried in her knees, grey cloak nearly swallowing her little curled up body whole. He'd asked Henchman to prepare daily clothes changes, and the peeking green edge of sleeve implied she'd been taking them, but the cloak remained the same.

Villain moved around to the front of the cell and drew back the bolt on the otherwise regular door, taking a breath before swinging it open with a flourish. “Hello, Birdie.”

The woman leaped a little, head shooting up and fixing him in the inky black pools that were her eyes.

“Sorry for the delay." He locked the door behind him as casually as he could manage. "I’ve been out of town. But now we can finally chat."

Medic blinked then turned her chin into her shoulder.

Villain plopped down on the couch a couple feet away from her place on the rug. "Apparently you haven't been eating properly. Is the food not up to standard? Can I get you something else? Any favorite meals or treats?"

Medic didn't turn or respond.

"Hmm...what do birdies like. Worms?"

The healer's lip curled a little but still nothing.

"How about chocolate? Steak? Fruit tarts?"

Medic only tucked her chin tighter.

"Alright, I get it. The nice treatment doesn't work on you. Unfortunately, I don't have a mean treatment. Not for you at least. I can't asks favors from someone by relying on fear."

That got her attention. She still didn't unfold, but her eyes watched him sideways. Wary but curious. What could a villain need from a healer. He must have his own, so why her? She didn't need to speak for her thoughts to clutter the air.

"No, I can't just tell you," Villain said with a loud sigh. "You might go tell that precious hero team. I know you're quiet, but I don't believe for a second you're that quiet."

Medic swiveled her shoulders ever so slightly. "How...?"

Her voice was not so birdlike. Short yes, but like a rasped breath than a chirp. Still...

Villain grinned. "The very best of ways: by pretending I knew what you were thinking. Throw out a guess and you'll be right 80% percent of the time. That's also a guess by the way, I haven't actually researched the subject."

Medic retreated back into her cloak.

Darn.

Either he was totally unhumorous, or Medic was just that hard to entertain. Then again, she'd seemed interested by the prospect of a supernatural ability. She'd only clammed up again once she got the simple explanation for her question. She should've already known his Gift from the fights she'd witnessed, though he had held bad considerably this last year.

"You're not like other medics," he said, redirecting the conversation. "You have a Gift, don't you? And don't deny it, I've seen the recovery your patients. Scarless, rapid, perfect. One fight I saw a hero putting full weight on what, minutes previously, had been broken femur."

"And that's why you want me?" Medic squeezed her hands together, nails digging into the back of her knuckles like each word spoken aloud pained her. "Because I'm better than your medics? You want me to turncoat?"

"Not entirely. I took you because your good, yes. So good you've kept that ragtag trash hero team up and running way longer than it should have ever been allowed to go. Hero needs to be stopped."

Nothing.

"I'm going to the statue unveiling tonight." He watched her face closely. "I'm going to break it. And while I'm at it, break him."

"He's not that fragile," Medic said, her voice hushing a little further, and her brow furrowing.

"Ah, you know because you've tried?"

"I know because I' m his medic and I know how much treatment each fight requires." It came out quite a bit snappier than Villain expected and Medic must have realized it too because she set her jaw and looked away again. "I can't help you."

Villain pushed himself back to his feet. The declaration was firm, but hardly the denial of a truly devoted team member. Or maybe he was just reading to hard into things. Medic was shy. Maybe she wanted to make herself clear in as few words as possible. But if there was a chance only her fear was holding her back...

"I'll let you know how it goes," Villain said. With that, he made his way back outside the cell, bolting the door behind him with fumbling fingers. He flexed his hands a couple times, as if to warm them back to full function, but they felt as clumsy and disconnected as always. He shoved them gloved into his coat pockets.

Don't think about that. You have a hero to fight.

***

Villain couldn't feel his shoulders. He'd definitely overdone it. He'd overestimated his ability to fight with his arms as damaged as they were and he had relied too much on the power he'd been so careful to conserve.

He stumbled hard against Medic's door, sliding weakly to his knees. He didn't know why he came here. Henchman was probably having a fit searching for him after he'd bolted. Most of those heroes laid in shattered pieces at the scene. Or at least, parts of them did. Villain had found long ago that his Gift--the power to turn whatever he willed to stone--could be used strategically. The loss of limbs was usually enough to make a hero retire, no need to end a whole life. He wouldn't have minded ending Hero, but once again, the leader was the only one who escaped unscathed. Too this day Villain had only ever managed to take a pinky. It was a wonder no one found that suspicious.

Villain slammed his fist against the cell door, or more like tapped. He stifled a sob. “I don’t want to die.”

Not yet. Not without bringing down Hero’s deceit.

Villain strained to reach the bolt, fumbling it twice before finally jostling it outward. He practically collapsed onto Medic’s rug.

Dark spots clouded his vision but suddenly cool hands were running trails down his face.

“Villain?”

Medic?

No wait, the door…he needed to close…why was she still here?

“Uuughh…” Villain rolled into her knees. “It did not go well.”

“What did he do?”

“Besides use every other person as a shield?”

“I mean to your face.”

Villain squinted up into Medic’s dark eyes, so deep and concerned and…and infinite.

“My face,” he mumbled.

“Are these bruises?” Her fingers trailed a second time down his cheek. “It looks painful.”

“It’s in my face?” Villain barely restrained a wail.

“Villain,” Medic said firmly, her quiet rasp getting almost loud. “What happened? Do you need healing?”

Villain’s throat felt thick and swollen, too sticky to get out words. Of course he needed healing. But if she couldn’t help him…he didn’t know if he could take another failure. He didn’t know if his body could take it.

He extended his hand. When Medic only stared, he nodded at the black, fitted glove.

Medic’s thumb worked under the edge. Villain felt nothing but he imagined her fingers felt just as gentle as they had on his cheek.

She gasped.

Villain glanced at the bare skin for only a moment. The once caramel colored palm now a deep ebony. Like something rotten. Like something dead.

“Villain?”

Villain cleared his throat, fighting the words upward. “All powers have a price.” He forced himself to look at blighted appendage. “Mine’s is killing me.”

Medic turned his hand over in her own. “How long?”

“Always. It used to just be a little. Nails. Hair. Parts I could cut off. Then it hit skin…and it won’t stop. I can’t feel; I can hardly move. And no one…” He choked. “I’m going to die. All from trying too hard to rid the world of Hero, and I couldn’t even finish him tonight.”

Medic rested her fingers on the cuff of Villain’s sleeve, eyes meeting Villain's with some unspoken request for permission.

Villain nodded.

Medic's nimble fingers gently picked at the button, freeing the fabric and rolling it up to his elbow. Villain’s eyes widened along with hers. What had once had been dark veins was now as pitch black his hands. From the nothingness in his shoulders it was probably no different above the elbow.

Medic felt gently at the half-petrifaction. Most people, even his most loyal were afraid of the blight. Henchman was unfazed, but the previous medic had quit rather than admit they didn't want anywhere near Villain. And yet Medic touched him willingly.

“You can’t fix it, can you?” Villain said, practically plead. He didn’t care anymore. Even with the doubt in his gut and in his voice. He just needed help.

“I…I might…” Medic said.

“But Hero wouldn’t like it.”

Medic ducked her head. “It’s not that. Well, no…you’re right, he wouldn’t, but he wouldn’t have to know. And there are no specific rules that say I can’t heal a villain, it’s just…”

Villain blinked groggily up at her as she chewed her bottom lip.

“Like you said, all powers have a price.”

“And this one is too much,” Villain said.

“Yes, well, no. I don’t know.” She glanced toward the open door. “Maybe there’s a better healer…”

Villain closed his eyes, practically sinking with resignation. “No. Already tried. I don’t think I have the energy to search anymore.” He clasped numb fingers around his numb arm. “Or the time.”

A long silence stretched between them.

“It’s alright, Birdie. Fly away.”

It didn’t matter who she told now.

Medic pushed him carefully off her lap, clothes rustling as she rose. Two steps sounded toward the door way and then stopped.

“I’m not supposed to…but I’ll do it.”

Villains eyes shot open. “You will?”

Medic sucked in her lips but nodded. “Just…don’t tell.”

She knelt beside him, long gray cloak fanning out around her. The second glove peeled off easier than the first, and she held both hands in hers.

He’d always wondered what it felt it like to experience one of her gifted healings.

It was warm. Like drinking something hot. It spread from head to toe, and the numbness leeched out little by little. The skin lightened from black to charcoal from charcoal to heather grey from grey to brown.

Medic’s hands turned soft in his grip. He squeezed them lightly, his mouth parting in disbelief at the feeling of pressure of warmth of regular mobility. When he sat up, it came easy. Tears sprang to his eyes.

“You did it! You actually did it! Medic, you are—“

He stopped at the sight of her slumping figure. Sweat rolled down her temples, her face was flushed, and her teeth were grit as if in agony.

“Birdie?”

Medic only shivered.

“Birdie. Birdie, are you alright?”

Villain reached out, but she lurched back, stumbling toward the back corner. Veiny blackness spread from her fingertips, trailing up the creases in her skin. Her shoulders trembled. A small vein popped out of from her forehead. And she glared at the blight. Not like someone afraid of it, but like someone who’d like to peel it off and throw it away. Or burn it.

“No!” she cried and slammed both palms against the wall mirror with a feral cry. Immediately the glass crackled and, like a rolling wave, turned to cold, hard stone.

The black faded from dark ebony to a tan spot only

A few shades darker than her skin. She still glared.

Villain gaped. “You… That’s what I do. How did you do what I do? Did I…? Did you…?”

Medic’s eyes darted toward the door.

Villain jumped in front of it first. “Hey hey hey! I’m not going to tell!”

Another guess but apparently the right one because Medic’s shouldered untensed a fraction.

“I’m not going to tell,” Villain repeated. “I just… How?”

Medic wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. Her eyes had taken on a glazed shine suspiciously alike to unshed tears.

“It’s not exactly healing,” she murmured. “More like stealing. Taking injuries and making them mine.”

“The price.”

She nodded. “But this sort of injury…made from a Gift, it doesn’t work the same. It’s more like a build up of power concentrated in one place. And now that it’s mine…I can do what I like with it.”

Villain cocked his head. “And that’s…bad?”

“I don’t work for Hero,” Medic said. “I’m on the team because he’s supposed to watch me. Stop me from doing things like this.”

“Becoming too powerful?”

“Becoming a villain.”

Villain might have laughed if she didn’t actually look so scared. He took her hands carefully, savoring the sensation of skin on skin warmth once again. He fixed her with a hard stare that she seemed uncertain to hold or shy away from. He smiled, the first real one in a long time.

“What’s wrong with villains?”

Medic swallowed, looking away but not pulling back her hands. Her voice came out very quiet. “I guess…not everything.”

#villain x medic #villain x civilian #hero x villain #heroes and villains #creative writing #writblr #writeblr #secret santa #agggh I couldn’t figure out how to end it #and I’ve been in a bit of a block #so it was a bit tough #but ah well #it was a fun premise to explore!

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simphornies · 2 months

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Crazy idea/request can you do one where the Easily in dangeres Reader(Imp! Female) x Vox came back home injured and all of the 3 Vee's who is sitting in the couch react to Reader(Female) saying "I cross the road on my own for once! Yey...! Ouch..." With a lot of bruises on them and even have a cast on here right leg

Reader's Weakness: Doesn't/Can't cross roads alone

A/N: I really want a cookie...

Word count: 800 Warnings: none

Vox x Unlucky!Imp!F!Reader

“Y/N. I really think you should just let someone else grab it for you. You know we have plenty of staff to do our bidding, just say the word and they’ll be back before you know it.” Vox suggested, though it was evident that he insisted. “Or we can get it delivered!” You roll your eyes at him.

“Vox. I can go and get the food just fine by myself!” You insisted, “I’m literally born here and I feel like it’s been forever since I went out!” You crossed your arms. Your tail whipped side to side in irritation.

He sighed in frustration and glanced over to Velvette for help. “Look, darling.” She said, “The last time you went out with an escort they ended up getting so badly injured they couldn’t go to work for 6 months.”

You raised your arms up in defense, “It wasn’t my fault someone was speeding down the street!”

“They got hit by a car and they got their asses beat because you walked into a turf war.”

“...Well they should’ve made it more obvious they were in one.”

“There were explosions and gunshots that you failed to hear.” She groaned. “Look, it’s not like we’re keeping you here trapped. You can get plenty of fresh hell air on the sidewalk. “I want to go on a walk. Stretch my legs somewhere else that isn’t here.” You protested.

“Look! How about I just go with you, babe?” Vox suggested. You perked up and looked at him, beaming with delight.

“Really?” You squealed.

“Yes. But please stay by my side.” He squinted at you knowing that you had a tendency to run off somewhere.

“I promise!”

You did not keep your promise. The two of you weren’t even out for that long and Vox had already lost sight of you somehow in the bakery. The bakery isn't big at all but you were nowhere to be seen. He panicked and ran out to look for you, lo and behold you were making direct eye contact with the pet store across the street.

“Y/N! I told you to stay by my side!” He yelled out. His eyes widened when he realized you were going to cross the street. He zapped over behind you but he couldn’t reach you in time. He turned and there was a car going straight towards you as you, unaware as ever, kept walking.

“Y/N what the fuck.” Velvette flatly stated, staring in disbelief at the cast on your leg. You nervously laugh and scratch the back of your head.

“I’m fine!” You lied, “Just a minor injury, nothing big.”

“Babe.” Vox groaned, head in his hands. If he had hair it would be white from the amount of stress you constantly put him in.

“I crossed the road! On my own!” You gave a nervous smile, standing proud and tall with your hands on your hips. Your crutches fell and one of them hit the cast, making you wince. “Ow…Okay maybe I’m not as fine as I can be.” You sat down, “But I crossed the road on my own and survived!”

“You barely survived. If I didn’t fly you to the hospital, your leg would probably be gone by now.” Valentino lets out a puff of smoke, stress smoking at this point.

“Hey! I said I crossed the street and survived. I never said without injuries. I looked both ways this time and I promise you, on my soul, there weren’t any cars coming.” You huffed. “That car literally popped out of nowhere!”

“Y/N if you weren’t covered in bruises looking absolutely pathetic I would have punched you by now.” Velvette glared at you.

The room was silent but their judging eyes and stressed out expressions were loud enough for you to curl up into the best ball of shame you could curl up into. “Maybe I should have gotten it delivered…”

“You think?” Vox groaned, “If you were just some random imp working for me I would have killed you myself. You’re lucky I love you.” He sat next to you and held an ice pack on one of your bigger bruises.

“So…Cookies, anyone?” You awkwardly asked.

“If Vox didn’t care about you so damn much I would’ve killed you myself too.” She turned and headed straight for the door, “I’m going to get a fucking drink. If I find a single strand of white hair on my head, I’m coming straight for you.”

You laughed nervously as she slammed the door behind her and glanced at Valentino.

“Yeah I’m gonna get a fucking drink too.” Valentino lit another cigarette and walked out the door.

You looked at Vox with sad puppy eyes to which he sighs in response. “I’ll take a god damn cookie.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino

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baxndaid · 16 days

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Hello! I have a request!

Can I have a headcannon of LMK? where female reader is sweet but has really bad luck? ( Like she would almost get hit by a car, incoming ball to the face, tripping, accidentally falling down the stairs, bumping into furniture or people, and light poles, flower pots or signs almost falling on her. And not just her getting hurt but generally things that won’t work with her like a soda getting stuck in a vending machine, losing her wallet and opening a bag of chips but it gets ripped apart instead and falls over to the ground. )

So I was wondering if Mk, Redson and sun wukong actually found this out by hanging out with her and does everything to protect her or put her out of harms way? And maybe they secretly like her? ( I thought this idea was cute and funny so I hope it’ll be fun for you! )

mk + redson + wukong x reader 🧷🧃⏰ -- who has horrible luck!!️

a/n ; this is soo cute, also im just going through my asks rn so if u requested, itll most likely be answered soon!! ilyy

sun wukong !!

☆ he thought you were just real dumb as first icl... just sweet but stupid

☆ you had such a cute innocent smile i mean come on how could he not think that? just so ignorant, yeah, thats it!! thats why your always in danger silly

☆ at first he found it so funny like he tried to hide his goofy little smile but it wasnt enough - watching you trip over literally anything was hilarious

☆ sometimes he thought you mightve been cursed by a demon - how does somebody miss their bus by a minute every single day? you cant be human, theres no way somebody is this unlucky? whatever nagito...

☆ he did find it funny when you wasted a whole 90 yuan on vending machine snacks that didnt even come out, and he did find it funny when you started kicking said vending machine, and he did find it funny when the vending machine spat out drink cans onto your head as a result of your abuse - he can admit that

☆ but he started to get concerned about your safety whenever you even thought about crossing a busy road

☆ im not even kidding - the second you stepped on the road he had to yank you back by your shoulder onto his chest, there was a truck coming right for you

☆ he scolds you a little.... just a little

☆ not harshly but he just wants you to be safe - so he does something to protect you (and embarrass you for scaring him with that whole road incident)

☆ he carries you everywhere, EVERYWHERE MAN... and he shows off a bit too the cheeky bastard - throws you up and down, does somersaults, carries you like a sack of potatoes just to embarrass you more

☆ he doesnt do this a lot though, with your luck? you two would probably be hit by an aeroplane

redson !!

☆ he so damn annoying with it "god your so clumsy" WDC!

☆ hes very very protective - like annoyingly so bc he acts like he doesnt care at all (he is PANICKING)

☆ please play with his hair im pretty sure hes more stressed than you are even if your the one whos being attacked by random vending machines and flower pots on the street atp

☆ his ass is NOT letting you leave without him anymore

☆ yeah yeah hes gonna act all "god your such a nuisance, i have to take care of you like youre a child" WDC!

☆ you would hardly see the effects of your bad luck with him because he prevents it as much as he can - he sees that your wallet is loose and about to fall? he got it for u!! "did you just touch my ass?" "w-WHAT?!"

☆ hes never doing that again, have fun losing your money

mk !!

☆ he gets you frr

☆ you both just chill together, he DOES try to prevent the more harmful situations that you may find yourself in like traffic and... vending machines

☆ but hes a baby, he cant help you with getting your coins unstuck in a sewer because he himself probably has his whole wallet in there somewhere

☆ you both look out for each other

☆ see a puddle hes about to slip in? call out, he sees a car coming? he calls out

☆ overall you both have a lot of ... ehem... baxndaids.... in your bags just in case you two do something stupid - whether intentional or not

lmk masterlist

#x reader #reader insert #sun wukong #lmk wukong #monkie kid wukong #six eared macaque #lego monkie king #mk #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #redson #redson x reader #mk x reader #redson lmk #monkey king x reader

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jellyfishoreo1206 · 11 months

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I really wasn't expecting so many people to like my Mirage x reader so much! I'm glad you guys liked it!

Though this is a rewrite, because I accidentally deleted the original. I'm still a little salty about it but it's whatever

Though there will be a small few changes that aren't updated in the part 1, but nothing much, just how the text will be colored. And some inconsistent POV changes

Y/N-Pink

Mirage-Blue

Noah-Orange

But anyway, here's part two!

Part one is here btw

Meeting Mirage ;)

Warnings: Suggested drug usage, language

"So is there a reason why we're walking instead of taking your car?" Currently right now, Y/N, who was about to go to bed several minutes ago, is now walking the empty streets of Brooklyn with Noah right beside her. And in addition of that, a blindfold for some reason that she's still trying to figure out. It was nearly midnight and this man literally just told her he had something important to show her. Many questions asked, and no answers yet.

He just kept responding with, 'you'll see when we get there', which is slowly starting to tick her off. And to make it just a little worse, she's still in her PJ's, a black tank top, some baggy white sweatpants that aren't even hers, and some worn out spiderman slippers. And it's fucking cold.

"It's close by, not even that long of a walk."

"It better be, because I swear to God Noah if whatever you're about to show me is something stupid I'm going to fucking kick you."

"I swear it's not."

"Also why did it have to be at night? Why not early in the morning?!"

"Because it couldn't wait until early in the morning!"

"Mhm, yeah right. You didn't even let me have time to put on a jacket. It's fucking cold."

"It's summer."

"You know how cold I am naturally!"

"Wouldn't be surprised if you were a lizard."

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm just befriending you so I can slowly take over humanity! Maybe so I can lick all the things I want without getting weird looks from people because it'll all be lizards!"

It was quiet for a moment, before the pair started to laugh at the comment. Sometimes they can't take each other seriously. It's always one of the two that makes the most random comments to ever been said.

"I'll get you some of those croissant thingys from that bakery you like. As a, 'Sorry for dragging you out of your apartment to show you something' apology."

"You better, you mother fucker...and bring some milk too."

"You're the only person I know that likes milk as a beverage."

"Hey! You can make all kinds of shit out of milk! It's not weird to like it as a beverage. Hell, you were drinking it out of your mother once!"

"Never say that sentence ever again."

Sooner or later, they finally arrived at their destination. With the jingling of keys, Noah unlocks a door before gently pulling her into the building. She was immediately hit with the smell of oil, the fumes of paint, and the smell of gas. Wherever they are, Y/N's guessing they're in Noah's garage.

Now, Noah was nervous, the whole entire time they walked here, he was fidgeting with his finger every so often. He fears how his best friend will react to Mirage, and hoping, hoping it's a good reaction. Though, it might be a small chance, but that's not stopping him from praying to the point someone passing by will probably think he's a little crazy.

"Heyyy you're back! And you brought the pretty lady too~" Now Y/N wasn't expecting another person to be here. She thought it would just be the two of them. Not that she was complaining, maybe this important thing needed someone to look after it so it wouldn't break or something.

Though in reality, it's a huge 12ft robot chilling on the floor, waiting for the both of them. But she doesn't know that. Yet.

"Y/N, I want you to me-"

Noah was cut off by Mirage, a pout on his face as he crosses his arms. "Nu uh man! Lemme have this one!" He quickly clears his throat, with a flirtatious smirk replacing that pout in seconds.

"The names Mirage, bonita~ But you can call me yours~" There was a playfulness in his tone, and to Y/N, he seemed very confident and outgoing. Maybe a little flirty, but that's fine with her. Though he does sound rather young, maybe around the same age as Noah? (I don't know how old he is, but I'm guessing maybe around 19-21, also reader is like 6 years older than Noah) And what a strange name, maybe it's a nickname he likes to go by.

"That's the most cheesiest line I've ever heard in my entire life." Y/N let's a chuckle slip through, snapping out of her little mind rant, a small smile making it's way onto her lips.

"Hey I spent a good amount of time on that! Plus, it's not that cheesey.."

"..Was that too cheesey?"

"Dude you're the one who came up with it, not me."

"But you're supposed to be my wingman here! I scratch your back, you scratch mine." There was a small stare down between the two, before Noah sighed.

"...okay maybe it was a little too cheesey-"

"I may not be able to see, but you guys are horrible at whispering."

Y/N was still standing somewhat next to Noah, arms crossed over her chest as she waited for their so called secret conversation to be over with. All the things she wants do is to go to sleep and enjoy her day-off the next day. That's all she asks for.

"Anyway, what's that important thing you wanted to show me, Noah?" She goes to remove the blindfold, but was stopped by a frantic Noah holding her wrists in a soft, but firm, grip.

"Shit! S-Sorry, it's just.." Noah sighs out in frustration, letting go of Y/N's wrists. "I gotta tell you something before I show you the thing." Said woman raised her brow at Noah's behavior. Now's she getting a little worried for what the hell Noah might show her.

"It's.. It's not something illegal, right?"

"No!" He pauses for a few seconds, "At least I don't thin-"

"NOAH-??"

"Right. So, uh, I think it's best if you just..see for yourself?"

"Why do you sound so unsure." Finally glad to be able to take off the damn fabric, Y/N looks at her surroundings, blinking rapidly to adjust her eyes. Her suspicions of being in Noah's garage was correct. But what she wasn't expecting was a huge metal being sitting in the middle of the room, optics on her with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Hey~"

It takes a few seconds before her mind could catch up, her expression blank. When the scene in front of her processed completely, she immediately turned around, walking towards the door with fast and hurried steps.

"Nope. Nu-uh. Not dealing with this shit tonight. Fuck this shit. I'm out. Peace. Adíos. Goodbye forever. So lon-"

"Y/N wait c-come back!"

"And I will walk 500 miles, and I'll walk 500 more-" Grabbing onto the handle, she tries to open it. Only thing was the door jammed repeatedly. "Fucking shit."

"Ouch, they never treated E.T like this." He pouts, dramatically putting the back of his hand to his forehelm. Now he was kind of expecting her to scream or least for her to faint, but this reaction was more amusing.

"Just let me, uh, us explain-!" Noah forcefully put himself between Y/N and the door, holding out his arms so she wouldn't try to go around. A staredown ensues.

"Please..?" Shrugging his shoulders a little with an unsure smile on his face, his attempt to make himself as convincing as possible. With a sigh, she nods, backing away from the door with slight hesitation. Turning back to the robot in question, Mirage has a bubbly smile on his face, optics lighting up.

"There you go! I ain' gonna hurt you," The mech coos teasingly. "Quite a show you put up though, ever thought of doing stand-up comedy?"

Y/N was still a bit tense, looking at the bot in caution. She doesn't even know what to do in a kind of situation like this. Hell, what do you even do in a kind of situation like this?

But despite that, Noah seems to know, Mirage was his name? He seems to know him pretty well, from how well Noah and him seem to get along. It actually explains a lot of things, that you didn't realize until then. How Noah seemed to be very secretive whenever it came to his garage, and seemed to be somewhat cautious whenever someone looks through his things.

"It's okay mami, you can admire this handsome face as long as you like~" Mirage's flirtatious voice broke you out of your mind ramble, a blush covering your face in an instant. You spaced out without realizing it.

"S-shit my bad."

"Heyy, it's alright~ Not often you come across a face like this!" He sticks his glossa out, making a peace sign with his servos as he winks at her. It, oddly made him cute. A small chuckle comes out of the woman, posture now slightly relaxed a little more, but still tense. Thinking this was a dream, she goes to pinch her arm as hard as she can, but no it's no dream. Maybe she had to much edibles before going to bed, and she was just in the streets all sluggish and her mind is throwing delusions at her, just for entertainment. Like a jester of sorts.

But she ran out of edibles 3 days ago, so that's most likely not the reason why.

Like promised, Noah and Mirage explained what, where, who, and why he was on Earth. And that there's more of him. And that they can transform into cars. And he demonstrated this, by transforming into a car himself. The Frankenstein car you were inside not longer than a week ago.

Now the dots were finally connecting.

She continues to ask him a variety of questions, each of which ranging from how long he's been on Earth, why he choose a Porsche to be his alt mode (to which he responded with, "A cool guy like me needs to have a pretty cool alt to go along with it" followed by a flirtatious wink), and how many other people know about his existence. By know your shoulders are less tense, posture completely relaxed as she continues a conversation with (mainly Mirage) the two of them.

And Mirage, being the big flirt he is, kept throwing pick-up lines whenever the chance showed itself, accompanied by a wink and a cute smirk. Each one making you a little flustered.

Eventually Noah had to leave, because apparently Kris never went to sleep in the first place, to busy to defeat Bowser. He knew because Kris accidentally blew his cover via walkie-talkie. So now it's just you and Mirage, all alone in the garage.

It felt somewhat awkward, but Mirage always found a way to break the silence of everything.

"So how'd you meet my boy?"

"His mom, she was a co-worker of mine a few years ago, and decided to invite me over to her house to meet her kids."

"And what, you guys hit it off there?"

Y/N let's out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Not exactly. He was a little nervous at the start. We only started talking when I offered to babysit Kris." And the conversation continued on from there, leaking into the early hours of the morning.

Mirage knew he wanted to know and see more about the human, she's just so pretty and fascinating! And her reactions and little faces she makes are so cute to him, make him wanna squeeze her little cheeks. His tanks are filled with the fluttery feeling again, the more they talk, the more it increases. Now he knew when to take risks, and this is one of them definitely. He knows he wants to see more of her, to keep talking with her. Just makes his spark go absolutely crazy.

So why not ask her out?

Alright Mirage, you can do this, my man! Don't let that nervous feeling pull you down. C'mon c'mon c'mon! When will you get another chance like this ever again?

After giving himself a small prep talk, Mirage finally asks. "Hey you wanna go to the drive-ins sometime tomorrow? I'd love to keep seeing that pretty face of yours more~" A wink following with a smirk. His confidence was all over the place, and his spark was beating rapidly, like it's going to come out of his chassis. Obviously it wasn't shown on his face, but internally he was a nervous wreck.

You were somewhat taken off-guard by his question, a blush covering your cheeks. Is he asking you out on a date? I mean, he could be asking to hang out more, but his various flirtatious comments and compliments thrown at you made you think otherwise.

Now that she thinks about, he's actually a lot better than any person she's been in a relationship with. He's actually makes her laugh, is nice and gentle, a good listener, and overall quite comfortable to be around with. And he's quite a cutie and handsome one too..fuck it.

"Sure. What time, handsome~?" The mech perked up at her response, optics lighting up. "How 'bout sometime at 7? I know a pretty good spot~"

"Then it's a date." Oh how that word made his spark flutter. He does a little dance and fists his hand in the air for his small victory, Y/N laughing a little at his antics. Her cheeks hurt so much from smiling so much. She's pretty excited for tomorrow's drive-in now.

When Mirage finally settles down, she beckons him down to be at her level, a small mischievous smile on her face. Confused, he does so, couching down until becoming face to face with her smiling face.

Warm lips peck his metal cheek, his optics widening in surprise at the bold gesture, a blue blush makes itself known on his face. The warmth spreading through his entire body as a shiver goes up his backstruts. Now he's for sure his spark might just beat out his chassis. She can practically hear it!

"Something for you to think about until tomorrow~ Goodnight Mirage~" And with that, she leaves the garage, a big smile on her face as she makes her way home, ready to finally crash into her bed and excited for the night tomorrow.

Mirage was left crouching in the garage, a surprised look still of his face, still trying to process what had just happen. His look of shock then quickly shifted to a look of giddiness, letting out a victory whoop as he tries to calm his beating spark.

"Man, what a woman!" And he cannot wait to see her again.

#transformers x reader #mirage x reader #rotb mirage #rotb mirage x reader #such a cute baby #rise of the beasts #knightverse #bayverse #noah diaz

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ophelia-writes-stuff · 1 year

Text

♥ talk like an angel . oneshot ♥

. pairing : yandere!doctor!elvis x patient!fem!reader

. summary / request : after barely managing to escape with your life after a car crash, you're rushed to the hospital by medical professionals. elvis is assigned as your primary doctor, and you find yourself enjoying his company. he's sweet, caring, and also incredibly funny. though slightly off-put by some seemingly random gifts and love letters you get from an anonymous person, you manage to enjoy your time there. and yet, as time goes on, you grow increasingly unnerved as the letters and gifts get more personal, and to your horror, later come to the discovery that maybe elvis isn't quite as sweet as he portrays himself to be. (request from @itlover8000)

. notes / warning : depictions of a car crash, portrayals and mentions of death, survivor's guilt, dark/yandere themes that include stalking, manipulation, threatening, forced affection, allusions to kidnapping, swearing, physical abuse, intimidation, drugging, more may be added.

. word count : 6.7k

(♥) . . . request something . masterlist . taglist . navigation

It was a late summer afternoon, and the sun had only just set. You and your friends had been saved from the sweltering heat of Memphis, though it was still quite warm inside your car. Luckily, the cool wind blowing through the window saved all of you from the stickiness of the heat.

You and your friend Laura let out peals of laughter at Cindy's joke. You couldn't quite remember what it was about-- but nights like these typically went in that fashion. No one quite remembered what had happened a mere five minutes ago, much too focused on the present.

Cindy, too, joined in the laughter, eyes scrunching up in delight as soft giggles left her cherry-red lips. She was much too focused on her own laughter to notice a deer attempting to cross the road.

Eyes slowly returning to the street, Cindy let out an audible gasp as she rapidly slammed down on the brakes, all while mindlessly turning the car away from the poor animal.

You all but shrieked as the car promptly lost balance and swerved off of the street. It all went so quickly-- one moment you were on the road, giggling like idiots along with your friends, and in seconds, your world was turned upside down-- literally.

For many moments, you just hung in some uncomfortable position, wavering between consciousness and unconsciousness. Eventually, though, you did move, slowly-- perhaps too slowly-- unbuckling your seatbelt. You let out a displeased groan as your head promptly made harsh contact with the car's ceiling.

You stayed in that position for a while, too, the heat blazing from some unknown source slowly drawing you into a deep sleep. You didn't want to move-- felt as if it would take much too much energy and effort

And then, after regaining your barrings and realizing the situation at hand-- because, after all, your life was at stake-- you frantically unbuckled Laura's seatbelt, and then Cindy's. Their heads, too, hit the car ceiling, hard.

"Laura? Cindy? We need to get out of here..." Your voice hardly exceeded a whisper, much too weak to make any more sound. A series of coughs followed your statement, and you closed your now burning eyes-- as if it would help the situation.

You roughly shook their bodies in a futile attempt to wake them up, but found that they didn't move in the slightest.

"Laura!? Cindy!? Please! Please, I can't--" Realizing the weight of the situation, your eyes started to water. You wouldn't be able to drag them out of the car with you, and it was already on fire. If they didn't drag themselves out, they'd surely die.

Frantically, you clawed at Laura's ashy skin. Sobs racked your body. They needed to wake up.

Your breathing was ragged as you attempted to then wake up Cindy, but the heat of the blazing fire was hurting your skin, causing you to give up on the idea.

"C'mon guys-- I can't bring you guys out-- we-- we need to go..." Another series of coughs followed your pleas, and, eyes widening, you realized why they weren't responding.

It felt as though your body moved on its own as you dragged yourself out of the car, despite your desperate wanting to get back in as soon as possible to let your friends out-- despite knowing that, if you did, you'd be just as dead as them.

In moments after barely exiting the car and dragging yourself just off the road, you all-so-suddenly collapsed, your body no longer able to support your own weight. It made sense, too; you were sure that almost every bone in your body was broken. And you were just so, so tired.

Because all you felt was the heat radiating off the car, and your now burnt skin, and your aching bones.

The heat radiating off the car, your burnt skin, your aching bones...

You soon fell unconscious.

You woke up in an unfamiliar place.

A hospital, you'd soon come to realize, buzzing with doctors and employees from just outside your room.

"She's awake!" You heard a voice yell, followed by the presumable entering of another person.

"Leave me to her. I'll call you if I need any assistance," a male voice spoke. You couldn't yet see him, your eyes having not fully opened to accommodate any new light.

"Ms. L/n, I'm going to have to ask you to open your eyes, if you would be so kind," the deep voice then gently coaxed. Nodding slowly, you allowed your eyelids to open, and you blinked harshly at the bright lights shining above you.

"I can turn down the lights if you'd like?"

Nodding slowly, your lips curved into the faintest of smiles as the man did as he said he would.

Once your eyes had successfully adjusted to the softer lighting, you took notice of the man standing before you-- most likely a doctor, by the way he was dressed. Coifed, sleek black hair hung atop his angular head, and a small smile was planted on his lips. He looked no older than his mid-twenties.

"It's glad to see you in the land of the living, Ms. L/n. We weren't quite sure you'd make it," the man lightly joked, a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm your medical professional, Dr. Presley, but I'd prefer you call me Elvis. You were involved in a car crash 'bout a week ago, if you recall-- we got a call from someone who found your body near the site of the crash."

His voice then grew solemn, sympathy lacing his next few words. "Unfortunately, you were the only survivor. The other two didn't make it. 'm very sorry."

Although your recollection of the incident had been only but a hazy memory when you woke up, it all came crashing back at you at the mention of your friends. Your eyes quickly watered up with tears as you stared at the sheets of your bed shamefully.

"Laura and Cindy..." you mumbled, the memory slowly but surely coming back to you. Your hands then gripped the sheets tightly, as though they were an anchor.

Once your mind had fully registered the memory, your eyes widened. Your hands gripped the sheets tighter. Your voice barely exceeded a whisper as you spoke, "I did it, didn't I?" Desperation and guilt laced your voice as you said those words ever so quietly. "I killed 'em. I left them there to die--"

Elvis was quick to notice your almost incoherent mumbling, and all the more so to put an end to it. "You didn't kill them, Ms. L/n."

Your eyes wandered to his own. You shook your head in disbelief. He couldn't be right. You saw them-- they were in there. They couldn't move. If only you'd just been less selfish and saved just one of them! "No, you're wrong. I was there-- I saw them. I could've saved them-- I could have--"

Elvis knelt down and clasped your hand in his own. "Ya' couldn't have done anything. We ran procedures on their bodies. Even if you'd managed to drag 'em out of that car, they would've already been dead. They suffered too much trauma to have been saved by any doctor. You yourself only narrowly escaped with your life. You're incredibly lucky you're still alive. Be proud of that, that's what I say."

It was odd, to think that someone you'd just met could cool your nerves in so few sentences-- and even though you still felt guilty, Elvis certainly made you feel much better about yourself. Though you supposed it must have been part of the job-- he was a doctor, after all. Still, it was sweet-- he seemed to care about someone he barely knew.

"Thank you," is all you said in response, allowing your appreciative smile to speak for you. You were still quite exhausted. Elvis returned your smile warmly, before standing back up and walking further from your bed.

"Your family's been waitin' outside of here for a while. Ya' fine if I let 'em in?" To this, you slowly nodded, and Elvis swiftly exited the room. A silence permeated through the air for lingering moments, before the door swung open.

In came your worried mother and father. Your mother quickly rushed over to your bed, though she hugged you gently. You let out a small chuckle-- the best you could do without hurting your ribcage-- before she pulled away and smiled brightly in your direction.

Your father, stoic as ever, merely smiled at you, though you could tell from the new creases near his eyebrows and forehead that he may have been even more worried than your mother.

And then in came your boyfriend, who maintained a polite distance from you, though you could tell that, if your parents weren't there, he'd be much closer.

"Oh, Y/n! Me and your Pa have been so worried!" Your mother exclaimed, grabbing onto your father's shoulder for support. "We've been here night and day, I tell ya', darlin'-- every procedure, we've been there! We've just been so worried. We're so glad you're safe..."

The confession didn't help with the ever-growing guilt in your heart, and yet, in spite of your own feelings, you smiled warmly at your parents.

"Oh, and of course, this young fella's been here whenever he could be." Your mother pointed to your boyfriend, and you felt your heart swell in your chest at the comment.

"But we're just so glad you're safe... we were so worried..."

The rest of the interaction with your parents went on something like that until they eventually let you have some alone time with your boyfriend.

"Hey, honey. How's a' going?" Caring as ever, he sat at the foot of your bed and placed one hand on your leg carefully, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb through the sheets.

"Well-- everything just kind of... hurts." You let out a faint chuckle as your boyfriend stared at you sympathetically.

"Okay, I guess, I just," your voice dropped to a whisper as you continued, "I guess I just feel guilty. For, you know." You didn't want to utter their names-- felt as though doing so would make everything more real. The grief was still heavy on your shoulders.

Laura and Cindy were your two closest friends, and now they were gone, and you were left to fight the grief on your own. You felt angry at them, in a strange way, but you could never really be angry with them. You felt like you lost a part of yourself upon hearing of their deaths, and it hurt you. Even if you couldn't have saved them, you still felt such a pang of intense guilt that ate away at your flesh.

Because all you could wonder was, what if I had saved them? What if I had convinced them not to go to that restaurant?

What if...?

What if?

You hadn't even noticed you were crying until you felt strong yet gentle hands engulf your fragile figure in a soft hug, and you let out a soft sob into your boyfriend's shoulder as you leaned into it. "It's okay, honey. It's not your fault. I just wish I had been there too..."

Your family and your boyfriend, after much convincing on your part (as they needed to get back to their own lives and take care of themselves), did eventually leave, though not without promising to visit almost every day. Knowing you wouldn't be able to convince them otherwise, you nodded in defeat and offered each one of them a supportive smile as they left. You were sure your parents needed the sleep, anyway.

Life in the hospital was odd, but it was nice-- nicer than one would expect. Your doctor-- Elvis-- was kind and thoughtful, more-so than he needed to be, you liked to think. He'd often sit in your room during his lunch break and eat and chat with you, which you always appreciated greatly.

The both of you bonded over practically everything, and you found yourself growing quite fond of the man. Had circumstances not drawn the two of you together so late in your life, you would have openly admitted that, had you met him before, you would have most certainly been the closest of friends with him.

"I actually wanted to be a musician when I was younger."

After some gentle prodding into Elvis's passions, he finally told you about them.

"Oh yeah?" You titled your head, invested in his next response. "Why'd you become a doctor, then?"

To this, Elvis shrugged and sank into the seat beside you. "I tried my hand in the music industry, but I jus' don't think it was for me. My music wasn't half bad, but people didn't like the way I moved."

"The way you moved?"

"The way I danced-- I liked to wiggle my hips a little. The audience wasn't much of a fan. Figured I oughta get a safer job with better pay." He shrugged. "Here I am."

"So, what-- you just gave up on your dream?"

All but surprised by your comment, Elvis stared at you, eyes swimming with confusion. "Well, I gave it my best shot, it just didn't work out."

A mischievous expression twinkled in your eyes. "One try and then it's over? That sounds like giving up to me. How about this-- you sing me a song, and I'll tell ya' if I think it's good or not.

An awkward silence settled as Elvis made his decision. And then, slowly, he nodded, and closed his eyes, as if to think of something. You stared at him in wonder as he sang.

"And yes, I know how lonely life can be," his voice weak on the first few words, but quickly grew in strength.

"When shadows follow me, the night won't set me free," his voice sounded like honey, sweet and smooth as he sang every word.

"But I don't let the evening get me down, now that you're around me."

Upon his eyes reopening, you clapped, impressed thoroughly by his musical ability. "That was wonderful!" You praised earnestly. It surprised you that Elvis gave up on a dream like that-- with such a talented voice, it seemed like a waste.

Elvis merely stared back at you, a dazed expression on his face, before slowly smiling and accepting the praise. His voice was quiet as he muttered a quick thanks, before exiting and saying something about getting back to work.

It was early in the morning when you woke up and found a gift at the side of your bed, accompanied by a card with a stamp shaped like a heart. Curiously, you first read the card and found written into it:

I remembered you mentioning that you loved stuffed animals and the color blue, so I thought I'd get you this. Although it cannot express well enough just how much you have filled my heart as of late, I hope it can somehow relay the message.

With love, Yours Truly.

You then opened the gift to find a blue stuffed bear inside. Your heart warmed at the thought of your boyfriend leaving you such things-- let alone remembering such small details about you! Abashedly, you had to admit, you yourself weren't quite as good at retaining that kind of info, so it made you feel all the more special.

Later, when your boyfriend visited you that day, you thanked him for the gift, to which he confusedly explained to you that he did not, in fact, buy you a gift. You delicately changed the subject after that and managed to convince yourself that he must have simply forgotten.

And yet, you couldn't help but wonder how could he have simply forgotten something like that?

Regardless, you were thankful for the present and found your gaze lingering on it quite often.

It wasn't even a week that had passed by the time you got a second one.

You opened the envelope of the card to find-- not a card, but a letter, and in it, inscribed a heartfelt and meaningful poem. You couldn't help the smile that grew as you read it, and found yourself blushing at many of the comments written in it.

You then opened the present to find an opulent necklace, littered with the finest of diamonds. Now, this drew your attention. Of course, you knew your boyfriend's job had quite decent pay, but this must have been worth at least a few months of wages. And so, you had to wonder: how could he have gotten all that money?

You thanked him and asked him about it, and once again, he was as confused as ever, leaving you to predict that perhaps it was not he who had given you the presents. But then you had to wonder: if not him, then who?

Deciding to ask Elvis since he must have had some insight into the subject (after all, you doubted anyone was sneaking in and leaving you a present), during your shared lunch together, you inquired about the gifts. At the mention of them and your expressed lack of knowledge on exactly who was giving them to you and your initial belief of it being your boyfriend, Elvis grew quiet for a long, hard moment, before replying, "I really don't know."

Slowly nodding, confusion evident on your face, you allowed the topic to fizzle out into a different conversation with Elvis.

As weeks passed in the hospital you didn't receive any more gifts, though you had started getting into therapy for walking and using your limbs after so long, which you picked up relatively easily. Still, the nurses who specialized in the field ensured you were careful, not wanting to provoke your injuries whatsoever, which you supposed made sense.

After about a month or so passed, the nurses finally decided that you were ready to return to your home so that you could resume your daily life, to which you were more than glad. Other than bi-weekly checkups, you'd finally be free of the hospital that you'd been stuck in for ever so long.

"I'm gonna miss ya'," Elvis said, offering you a gentle hug. You rolled your eyes fondly as you accepted it, knowing full well he was being overdramatic.

"I'm still going to see you every week, Elvis. Twice."

Still, the goodbye left you feeling somewhat bitter, knowing you wouldn't be able to see Elvis daily from now on.

Life at home felt normal, in a sense. Of course, you weren't out and about quite as much as you'd been before the crash (and although you hated to think about it, it would make sense since your friends were gone), but it was nice to be able to live your life without the confines of a hospital.

Letting out a content sigh, you opened the door to your porch, keen on spending some time outside and getting some well-needed fresh air. That was, until you found a gift in front of the door.

Your brows laced together as you stared at the gift, and the letter on top of it, which so clearly resembled the ones you'd gotten at the hospital. You'd be a fool not to conclude that they were both from the same person.

Cautiously, you looked around you to see if anyone was watching-- because as paranoid as you may be, you were still getting love letters from an anonymous source who now apparently knew the location of your house-- before taking the present and card and slipping into your home, locking the door behind you.

Firstly opening the letter, you found another quite beautifully written love letter (this much, you had to admit), though what concerned you was what was written on the bottom.

To my dearest Y/n,

I know you love candies, I've seen you at that small bakery just down the street from your house, so I truly hope you enjoy this gift. I got it just for you.

You know, I find it quite odd how you wander around those stores and buy so little baked goods, but I suppose that's my purpose, and I in no way oppose that duty. I simply hope that someday we'll be able to go together, just so that I can make sure I buy your favorites.

With love, Yours Truly.

At the mention of the bakery you frequented, your stomach twisted with unease; you'd only gone there less than a day ago.

Once you opened the present, your heart only sank deeper into your stomach. Inside was a box of heart-shaped chocolates from said bakery-- a warm gesture, had you known who it was from at the very least.

But that was just it. You didn't. Whoever was sending you these knew both where you lived and where you went, which only unnerved you all the more.

A loud knock at your door quickly startled you out of your thoughts, and you quickly hid the chocolates and wrappers upon hearing your parents beckon for you. You'd forgotten that they said they were coming over.

The rest of the evening went by relatively calmly, your mind buzzing with worried thoughts and your parents cooling your nerves. Dinner was all but one of the best ones that you had, though you couldn't deny the sinking feeling in your stomach that grew upon saying goodbye to your parents.

Of course, you knew they'd drop everything and anything in the blink of an eye to stay with you had you asked, but you couldn't find it in your heart to ask them to do so-- they'd already given up so much for you.

And so, once they left, you quickly closed your door and locked it, and ensured all the windows to your home were locked, too. You didn't need any other things to keep you awake at night.

And yet, in spite of your trust in the blinds that covered your widows and the locks that sealed your doors, you simply felt exposed. And, sure, it was dramatic, but you simply couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched as your head hit the pillow and as you were slowly lulled into a deep sleep.

Despite your recent unease, life carried on as it always did. You had checkups with Elvis twice every week, your boyfriend would be over at your house constantly, making you dinner and such, and your parents would insist on visiting you nearly every day.

And yet, the ongoing buzz of the passing days was not enough to quell your buzzing mind and your thoughts of more pressing and recent matters.

The death of your friends was still something you felt the burden of, and regardless of the irrationality of the whole ordeal, you felt as though it was somehow your fault that they weren't still alive, living and breathing.

You also couldn't take your mind off the gifts you'd been getting, and the letters that were growing increasingly personal. They'd mention places that you'd been to mere days before and mentioned things about your past that not many were heavily informed on.

There were some nights when you'd go out and would find things like dresses and purses which you had all but glanced at the stores, and after about ten seconds of deciding whether or not you desired them to be your own, deemed them too expensive, but then later found them at your doorstep. Those types of gifts unnerved you incredibly, especially since they'd sometimes appear on your doorstep before you even came home.

There were also times that, after hanging out with your boyfriend or someone you'd met recently, the letters would lightly suggest that you stopped spending time with them, and would often go into detail as to why. And, although you didn't often listen to them, you certainly considered it.

You'd also considered calling the police about the issue several times, but what would you say? Hey, someone's been leaving me an excessive amount of presents in the past weeks. I don't know who they're from, so could you please track them down and tell them to stop? The question simply seemed preposterous.

And so, with a heavy heart, you kept it all to yourself-- only went so far as to suggest that your boyfriend stay the night with you so that you'd feel safer. Of course, you'd never tell him the real reason, only spun harmless white lies that you didn't quite need, anyway, as he was always willing to drop anything for you.

It was about an hour before noon when you went to get your presumably last checkup, and you were overjoyed. you'd finally be able to completely return to your normal life-- almost. Of course, you couldn't forget what you lost in that crash, but you were glad at the prospect of no longer having to visit the hospital, a place that constantly reminded you of your losses.

Walking into your designated room, Elvis turned around and smiled in your direction, and gestured for you to come closer. You obliged, and Elvis walked towards you and began running the normal procedures.

"You sure seem happy today," he remarked, to which you smiled wider.

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"It isn't because you're glad of gettin' rid of me, is it?"

As the question, a small giggle erupted from your lips as you shook your head.

More witty banter ensued as Elvis did your checkup, and you appreciated it-- his seemingly natural ability to make you forget your circumstances and to simply focus on the moment.

Once you were just about finished with your checkup, Elvis shot you a grin and a thumbs up that seemed to indicate for your departure, but none was such the case. Just as you waved goodbye and spun on your heel in an effort to leave, Elvis spoke, his voice quieter than usual.

“Hey, Y/n, I was actually been meaning to ask you something before ya’ left.”

Turning around at the statement you were all but taken aback at Elvis’s seemingly nervous demeanor. He’d never been anything short of confident since you’d met him, so you were curious as to what he was going to say.

“Shoot.”

Elvis cleared his throat before he spoke. “What do you think about… getting dinner sometime? With me?” He paused, cleared his throat. “A date.”

The question rendered you speechless for quite some time. Ever since you’d met Elvis, you’d assumed that he was married– if not already settled down with some children. After all, why wouldn’t he be? He was charming, kind, and you had to admit that he was easy on the eyes.

“Oh, um, Elvis, that’d be wonderful, but…” You shifted awkwardly in your place. You never liked delivering bad news. “I’m– I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.”

At the rejection, Elvis’s eyes flashed with an emotion that you couldn’t recognize and he opened his mouth as if to speak before it quickly snapped closed. Solemnly, he nodded and gestured to the exit.

You didn’t like saying goodbye to someone with such bitterness, but you knew no amount of solace or apologies would mend the situation. Truth be told, you had never expected Elvis to develop romantic feelings for you, and you felt utterly despicable for rejecting him after everything he'd done for you, but you knew it had to be done. You had a boyfriend, whom you adored, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Unfortunately, you later found that that wasn’t your decision to make.

A single letter was left on your doorstep the following morning.

There was no gift in sight, which both calmed your nerves while simultaneously sending them into an erratic frenzy.

You'd grown used to seeing the letters attached to some paper-wrapped box, but never had you seen one, alone on your doorstep.

You'd never noticed how dark the red of the heart-shaped stamp was, not until today. Or maybe it just wasn't that color until today. You didn't know, but you did have to admit that it did resemble the color of blood.

You shook your head at the thought of the ominous detail, successfully scattering your thoughts. You were merely overreacting.

And yet, your heart pounded fiercer than ever as you brought the letter over to your table. You were much too preoccupied with examining it to remember to lock your front door.

Slowly, fearfully, you opened the letter, sliding it out and taking a deep breath before reading it. Your breath caught in your throat as you did so.

Y/n,

I am truly very disappointed that you denied my proposal! I love you, as I am sure you must know by now, and it breaks my heart to see you choose him over me.

I realize now that I must take control of the situation. I had initially expected for things to go smoothly, but I suppose nothing goes quite as planned.

I'll see you soon.

With Love, Yours Truly.

You felt sick to your stomach. The letter slipped out of your hand, and you let it. Slowly walking backward, you recounted your interactions with Elvis.

But how could it have been him? He seemed so nice, and he seemed so respectful, too. And yet, looking back on it, it all made sense. From how he got your address to the fact that the gifts temporarily stopped when you brought the subject up to him--

You bumped into something warm.

You froze for a moment before you tried to quickly move away from it. Your attempt was futile, however, as the figure, much faster than you, wrapped one arm around your torso and the other rested firmly on top of your mouth, successfully pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You tried to let out some kind of scream-- a sound-- anything to alert someone that you were in danger-- but your voice was muffled by the figure's hand.

"Now, darlin', do you really think anyone's gonn' hear you?" Elvis's voice was deep as he whispered those words into your ear, the warmth from his breath sending a shiver down your spine. It sounded almost as though he was scolding you.

Your attempts to scream came to a halt and you felt a satisfied hum rumble from Elvis's chest. "Good girl."

To say that you were shaking would have been an understatement. You were trembling, your breathing ragged as your hands quivered. You were unable to do so much as to lean away from the man who held you ever so firmly in his grasp.

There was silence, for a long moment-- a silence that you did not dare to break.

"Y'know, Y/n, things could have gone by so much easier if you'd just gone out with me," Elvis then said, one of his hands idly toying with your clothing and brushing over your skin. You didn't even bother trying to pull away-- you knew you wouldn't be strong enough. "But now-- look what ya've done! You messed this entire thing up. This entire thing."

His hand traveled lower along your body, slowly, almost imperceptibly.

"I liked this dynamic-- doctor and patient? Would've liked to have kept that up."

Both of Elvis's arms then detached from your body, and he walked in front of your figure. He cupped your cheek and rubbed what would have been soothing circles along your skin, had the current circumstance been different.

"Oh baby, why'd you have to go choosin' that son of a bitch of a boyfriend of yours over me? Don't you know how much I've invested in ya'?" Elvis let out a scoff. "Probably more than he's made in a lifetime."

You didn't respond-- felt as if he didn't specifically want you to. Elvis paused, his anger slowly fizzling into an almost pleased sort of emotion.

"But it's fine. I took care of him, so you won't have to worry about him getting in our way. You hear that? He won't bother you no more."

At his statement, your eyes grew wide, having an idea of his implications. At your reaction, Elvis seemed to grin even wider-- as if your fear offered him even more pleasure.

"You look so pretty like that..." He then muttered mindlessly, his eyes slowly wandering to your lips. He brought his hand over to them and brushed his thumb over them. He smiled slyly, his eyes resembling that of a serpent.

And then, slowly, tenderly, he kissed you, and you let him-- kissed him back, even. It wasn't like you had much of a choice, so you gave in-- drank his invigoratingly sweet poison. You allowed Elvis's hands and tongue to roam your body as he did so before he deepened the kiss-- turned it into something hungry and desperate.

At that point, you tried to push him away, tried to stop this from becoming all too much all too soon, tried to gain some distance from him-- but his grip on your body suddenly grew firm to the point where you were sure you were going to get bruises by the way his fingers dug into your skin, and he bit down on your lip, hard, as if to scold you.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled away, but lingered inches away from your face. Unease crept up your spine as he stared at you, passionately, intensely, before saying, "Grab your things."

You didn't know what to say before Elvis pointed to your bedroom. You then simply nodded and ran upstairs. To both your surprise and delight, Elvis didn't follow. And so, heart palpitating in your chest, you walked up to your bedroom and closed the door as silently as you could before locking it.

You had to get out.

You quickly searched your bedroom for a phone of some kind-- anything to contact the police or the outside world and to alert them that you needed help-- but found that it was nowhere to be seen.

Your stomach sank. I need to get out of here.

Loud, heavy footsteps hit your ears as you searched for some different way out. They were slow, but calculated, and took their time between each step.

It was then that you realized: he was baiting you.

Still, you wouldn't let your moment go to waste. Your eyes flitted to your bedroom window.

Bingo.

You rushed over to it and unlocked it, before trying to pry it open. And yet, despite your efforts, it wouldn't budge. You pushed and pushed and yet it remained firm in place, strong as ever.

Oh god, you couldn't breathe. Why on Earth wouldn't it move-- the one time you needed it to open? You weren't oblivious to the footsteps coming closer as you tried to do anything to make the goddamn window open. You didn't care if you needed to break some bones on the way out-- you just needed to get the fuck out of here.

"Y/n?" Elvis's voice beckoned for you as he approached, like a predator teasing its prey. "You almost done in there?"

You didn't speak-- you couldn't speak. You were so close-- so close-- to being able to leave, to calling the cops, anything. And yet, it seemed as if the universe found it entertaining to taunt you with the impossible.

The footsteps were suddenly put to a halt, and Elvis knocked on the door. "You still in there?" His voice was calm, peaceful, in a way. It lacked any sense of urgency or worry.

It was then that you realized: you weren't getting out. You didn't know how, but you did know that, somehow, Elvis planned this-- after all, why would he be so calm in this situation?

Elvis tried to open the door, but the lock stopped him from doing so (one thing that actually worked in your household). You could hear him let out a small, quiet chuckle before he spoke, amusement prominent in his voice.

"Y/n, the window's locked."

At that simple statement, you froze. Your hands shook as you ceased all movements and just stood there in shock. How did he know? How could he see you?

Elvis knocked on the door once more which-- you had to admit, you almost found funny, because why would he offer you the courtesy of opening the door to your own bedroom and not the door to your own goddamn house?-- before saying, "Baby, would ya' mind lettin' me in?"

Maybe, if you could move, for fear you would have, but you couldn't. You only stared at the door in terror, unease settling uncomfortably in your stomach. You wanted oh-so desperately to move, to speak, anything, but you were paralyzed, trapped inside your own body and your own mind.

"Oh Y/n, c'mon now. I know you can open this door, and there's no way outta' that room." Your body finally released you from its firm grip of paralysis at that statement, and you were able to move once more.

And then, finally, you opened your mouth to speak. "Elvis...? Why are you here?"

Your voice was shaky, but the words managed to get through eventually. The fear was evident in your voice as you spoke. You stared at the door, afraid of what his answer might be.

"Baby, all I want is to take care of ya'. Isn't that all you've wanted? Someone to take care of you and to make you feel safe?" His tone was sincere, and you found yourself almost falling for his deception. And yet, you were no fool-- you were now aware of the duplicitous man he was.

Elvis let out a small, light-hearted laugh before continuing. "Now, why don't you open the door and let me in? There's nowhere else you can go." The ending sounded more like a threat than a reassurance. Still, you didn't open the door-- only hoped that by some miracle the moment would end.

This, as it turns out, was a large mistake.

Elvis's tone turned from soft to infuriated in a matter of seconds as he banged loudly on the door. "Y/n, you better open this goddamn door right now." You let out a small, panicked sound at the harshness of his voice as you curled up in a ball and closed your eyes, as if that could somehow make you feel safer or make him leave.

You didn't listen to what he said next, only heard the loudness of his words that banged against your skull. And then, the loud slamming of a door opening. You let out a pained cry as you felt rough hands pull your hair in their direction.

"You just can't make this goddamn easy, can you?!" A loud voice screamed into your ear. "I've given you do goddamn many chances, but you just think you're so high and above them! Is that it?!"

Elvis tugged harshly on your hair at your lack of response. "Answer me, goddamnit!" But you couldn't-- could only let out a muffled whimper as he did so. He then paused, chest heaving for breath, and let go of you, slowly.

Elvis sat down beside you and placed one hand on your cheek, lovingly, sweetly, as if the moments just minutes prior hadn't occurred. "You look so pretty when you cry..." He muttered, guiding your face to look in his direction. "But you have to do what I say when I tell you. You got that, baby? Whatever I say, every time-- or I'm gonna have to go out and hurt some people, and neither of us wants that, do we?"

Head slowly shaking side to side, you agreed. Elvis smiled. "Good girl. Now, I didn't want to have to do this, but seeing as you've misbehaved so much, I'm afraid have to." Staring at Elvis fearfully, he offered you a sympathetic glance. "Don't worry, it won't hurt for long."

It was then that you felt a stinging pain in your neck. Unsure as you what exactly was happening, you attempted to pull away, but Elvis's grip grew tighter as he held you in place. Despite knowing that your efforts would be in vain, you thrashed against him, but he only held you closer, fingers digging deeper into your skin as you did so.

And then, slowly, you felt a certain exhaustion run through you as you eventually leaned right into Elvis's arms and were lulled into a deep sleep.

want to join my taglist?

taglist: @iloveaustinelvis, @powerofelvis, @kendralavon7, @bobthefishiesworld

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oskea93 · 3 months

Text

Keep it to Yourself (2)

✶ DouglasBooth!Nikki Sixx x OC ✶

Warnings: Mention of drug use, cursing. A/N: Thank you so much for the love guys!! I hope you enjoy the 2nd chapter, it's kind of a long one. If you would like to be tagged, just let me know! Gif(@ughmerlin)

Taglist: @fancywasmyname1, @kaitieskidmore1, @xxisxxisxxis, @sparxx27, @cruecifymesixx, @tempt-ress, @a-sia-san, @x-xinenas, @casualcomputerarbiter-blog, @makaelahdelvalle

“Is this some kind of sick joke, Bryant?”

I leaned my head against the payphone door – watching as Nikki filled up his car. “Afraid not.”

Wyatt stayed silent for a moment, my surprising news turning more into a nightmare as the minutes passed. He let out a sigh, “You’re 20 years old – got your whole life ahead of you but you decide to fuck it all up by eloping that idiot.” His usually soothing voice dripped with anger.

It was a total whim – Nikki and I were just sitting around, and he brought up the idea of getting married. We’d been together for a year almost and the thought of marriage never crossed my mind. I didn’t even think Nikki found our relationship to be serious half the time. He had dreams of becoming a rockstar – a wife – the old ball and chain – would only hinder that dream. There was no ring – no getting down on one knee. It was basically you have this one chance to say yes and get it done or it’ll never happen again. We scrounged up enough money to get a marriage license and were married the next day at the courthouse. A random guy from the street was our witness – Nikki buying him a bottle of booze as payment. It wasn’t the fairytale wedding most girls dream of, but it worked for us.

“I thought maybe you would have a change of heart and be happy for us.”

An annoyed laugh rang through the receiver, “Be happy for you – Bryant, you need to be married to this kid like you need a hole in the head. I’ve told you from day one that he wasn’t the one – have you're fun and then leave. You need to be with a man that has structure – someone with a steady income – I don’t give a shit if the guy works on Wall Street or at the gas station on the corner, Nikki is not the man you need in your life.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Uncle Wyatt.” I muttered.

This seemed to piss him off even more – “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I played with the phone cord, unsure of what to say. “It’s just –“

“Just what, Katherine?” His tone aggressive as he used my legal name. “Now that you’re married, you think that you can talk to people however you want? Just remember this little girl-“ He paused. “I’ve known guys like Nikki all my life – Hell, I’ve been one of those guys and I know how they pick one girl, stay for a bit, and then move on to the next thing. Don’t come crying to me when he kicks your ass to the curb when the next little hottie crosses his path...”

I could pick the man out of a sea of people.

His hair was a little longer than I last remember – his clothing changing with the times and trends. The fancy sports-car that the guys purchased for him glistened in the California sun – the sun hitting the red paint just right.

“There she is.” His arms spreading open expecting me to jump right into them for one of his ‘famous hugs.’

“Hey, Doc.” I forced a smile as he pulled me in.

His touch felt more like relief than welcoming – kind of like a forced thank you for coming and saving my ass. “I’ve missed you, kid.”

I pulled away first as he took in my appearance. It’d been almost three years since we’ve seen each other – a lot of things changing in that time. “You look great.” He smiled. “More mature – nothing like that little girl I met backstage.”

“Yeah, well –“I shuffled nervously. “Someone had to grow up and become the adult.”

His eyes locked with mine, squinting as my words coursed through his brain. “May look different but that attitude is still the same.” He pulled my suitcase out of my hand, placing it in the trunk as I placed myself in the passenger seat. I took a couple deep breaths – the reality of what was about to happen finally hitting me. I was cool as a fucking cucumber the whole flight – only worrying that Wyatt would pop up at any second and drag me off the plane by my boots. I didn’t think about what I would do or say when I finally saw Nikki again. I already knew that he wasn’t going to be happy – raging would be more like it.

The thought of if this was a good idea was now creeping into my psyche. Hannah’s warning to watch my moves and have an escape plan just in case he’s bad enough where he tries to harm me played on repeat as Doc drove through the canyon. From the way he was going, Nikki still lived in the same house.

“So-“Doc smiled. “What’s been happening with you lately? Last I heard you were living in South Carolina.”

I glanced at him through my shielded lenses, rolling my eyes. “Just living life.” I was short.

“You got a job?” He continued to press.

“No –“I turned to look at him. “I just live off my good looks and hope old men want a young plaything to leave all their money too.”

His face instantly fell as he glanced at me – my face expressionless as he fumbled to form a sentence.

He chose to end the conversation after that leaving the rest of the journey completely silent. I was somewhat grateful but talking made me forget about my internal thoughts – the ones eating away at my emotions...

“Where are we even going?”

I watched as million-dollar homes passed by as we travelled further into the hills. Nikki remained silent – his eyes hidden behind his dark shades – a stoic expression on his stubbled face. We had been driving for almost 30 minutes – silence taking up most of that time. I could tell from his body language that he was nervous. His body was stiff as he kept both hands on the steering wheel. He was home from the first leg of the Shout at the Devil tour – the guy I had known before tour started was left somewhere on an abandoned highway. Nikki was different – a little distant – more focused on the drugs and booze than before.

Instead of saving the money that was coming in from the shows, he and the rest of the band went on a spending spree – laying thousands down on new cars, expensive clothes, and the finest designer powder they could get their mitts on. It was a nice feeling not to be struggling anymore but Nikki was going through the money like water in the desert. His habit went from a couple bumps here or there to being desperate for the next fix. Shady looking characters were in our apartment every night as he got ready to go out with the guys. They followed him around like a puppy would their owner – Nikki was their client – he had the money, and they had the blow.

I kept glancing at him as he concentrated on the road, “Is there a party up here or something?”

He cleared his throat, slinking further into the leather seat of the Camaro. “No.” His answer simple.

“Then why the hell are we u-“

He stopped the car in front of a large home – the exterior darker than those around. “Welcome home.” His voice flat. I looked between him and the house – confusion written all over my face.

“What?”

“You wanted a house, didn’t you?”

I stayed quiet for a second – trying to process the situation. “Are you trying to tell me you bought a house – this house – and you didn’t bother to ask me how I would feel about that?” I pointed towards the home; my eyes fixed on Nikki.

He ignored the question, driving past the gate that secured the house from the open road. The driveway was long and steep – the house sitting perfectly on the hilltop. It was an open landscape – not many trees and the perfect view of those that lived in the valley.

“Nikki – you can’t be serious right now?” He placed the car in park – turning the engine off before removing himself from the car. I didn’t wait for him to let me out, hastily slamming the door shut as he rounded the passenger side. “Please tell me you didn’t buy this house?”

“You know-“He smiled as he removed his sunglasses – the telltale signs of last night written all over his face. “You bitch about living in a small apartment but yet here you are bitching me out for buying you a beautiful house.”

I raised my hands in the air, “I didn’t ask you to buy me a fucking house, Nikki!”

He rolled his jaw in anger as I vented about how we were supposed to be saving money and not throwing it away on things that we didn’t need or things we could wait for. I was perfectly content in staying in the apartment – hell, it was better than the one he was in when I first met him. I made sure to keep it clean and we shared the rent 50/50. Just because Motley had become a success didn’t mean that I wanted him spending that hard earned money on a house. We had plenty of time to look at houses – a house we would both love – not the first one that had a for sale sign.

“Fine –“His voice low. “You don’t want to the fucking house – “He hastily reached into his shirt pocket fishing out the key before throwing it as hard as he could down the embankment. “Then no one will fucking get the house!”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” My anger exploded as I raced to find the key. He stood behind, leaning against the black hood. I knew it was gonna be like finding a fucking needle in a haystack – the only chance of getting into the house would be to break in...

Doc’s car pulled up the familiar driveway – Nikki’s overzealous purchases sitting in front of the house. “I’ve always hated this house.” I muttered.

“Yeah-“Doc smirked. “Nikki’s made mention of it a time or two.” He placed the car in park – a knowing sigh slipping past his lips. “Ready for this, kid?”

I tucked my lip between my teeth – a nervous habit I had since childhood. “Ready for it like a hole in the head I guess.”

He chuckled at my answer, walking up the stairs ahead of me. The day I left kept flashing in my mind – the way my shoes hit the stone steps – Nikki trying to follow behind but stumbling from the drugs. Doc unlocked the door using his personal key that he had made, telling me that he had keys to all the guy’s houses. Stepping across the threshold showed me just how much he had changed. The once bright living room was now painted in a dark red – black, leather furniture scattered around the room. The house was an absolute mess! Liquor bottles, beer cans, food containers, and clothes littered the living room and kitchen.

“You can’t afford to get him a housekeeper?” My nose turned up at the smell. “This place is a fucking pigsty, Doc.”

He waved me off as he started towards the staircase. From what I could see, all the doors to the rooms were closed – the bedroom we shared being off to the left side. “Let me go see if he’s up and decent.” I nodded my head, looking around in disgust at the mess.

Gold and platinum records lined the walls – older photographs joining here and there. The photos that hung while we were together were nowhere to be found – probably burned and turned to ash. Heavy footsteps sounded as the person descended the stairs – my heart starting to race at the thought of seeing Nikki again.

Doc appeared seconds later, “He’s not here.” He spoke out of breath. “Fucking needles and baggies are lying all over the closet floor – probably got high and left for God knows where.”

I threw my purse on the couch, taking a haphazard seat as Doc began to pace the room.

“When’s the last time you seen him?” His eyes connecting with mine.

He thought about it for a second, “Probably three – four days ago I guess.”

I looked up at the ceiling, my tolerance for him starting to waver. “You have a guy that’s actively addicted, knocking on death’s fucking door, and the last time you laid eyes on him was four days ago? Are you fucking kidding me, Doc?”

“I talked to him on the phone the day before yesterday and he sounded fine. I can’t be on babysitting duty twenty-four fucking seven, Bryant. I have other bands that need me –“

“No-“ I cut him off. “You have other cash cows that are out there killing themselves so you can make a name for yourself and have money in your pocket.”

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, “I didn’t bring you out here so you can rip me a new one, Katherine.”

My anger finally coming through, “Don’t fucking call me that.” My finger pointed in his face. “You don’t have the right or luxury to ever call me by my real name.”

“And who has that luxury, Bryant?” He pressed. “Your fucking ex-husband who’s out there killing himself because you fucking left him? You know you may think it’s my fault that Nikki is the way he is, but you’re just as much to blame. He didn’t get bad until you sent the fucking divorce papers – this is on you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.” I pushed past him, making my way to the front door.

I started walking down the driveway, not even caring that the sun was starting to set, and I didn’t have anywhere to go or anyone to pick me up. I made it about halfway down before Doc’s car came up beside me. “Get in the car, Bryant.” His voice monotone. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that in my 25 years of being on this planet. That was my go-to move anytime Nikki pissed me off and we happened to be in the car. Hell, there was sometimes I would just get out of the car at a red light and start walking down the busy street.

“I’m sorry –“ I turned to look at him. “I don’t accept rides from assholes.” My boots slapping against the concrete.

Doc let out a string of curse words, finally stopping the car as he got out and tried to catch up. His fingers grabbed tightly onto my wrist, spinning me around into his body. “Fucking stop, Bryant.” His breathing ragged. “I already have enough to deal with and you acting like a fucking brat doesn’t need to be added to the plate.” I pushed the hair out of my face, yanking my arm out of his hold.

I waited a second as he walked back to his sports car before inching my way back to the passenger side. I may have slammed the door a little too hard, earning a look from Doc as he drove to the main road.

“Vince is throwing a party-“He spoke. “My guess is Nikki’s probably there since all the dealers are there.”

“He’s like a month flying to a bug zapper.” I mumbled.

The drive to Vince’s beachside mansion didn’t take long – traffic being light for that area. Different cars surrounded the home as music blared out of the open windows. I watched as people moved out of the way as Doc drove up to the front – those outside looking to see who was arriving. I didn’t bother waiting for Doc this time – getting out and stomping up the staircase.

I had no idea where he could be – the house was ginormous. The music grew louder as I neared the living room – a circular couch sitting in the middle of the room. A tall skinny guy was the first person I noticed – still having the same stupid haircut he had when we first met. Tom was a fish out of water in the world he lived – the opposite of Motley Crue. It still amazed me to this day that he was the reason Motley got signed.

My eyes moved across the couch, a head full of jet-black hair bent over a silver serving tray caught my attention. I watched as the lines that were perfectly placed vanished as the rolled up bill moved in a vertical motion. His head popped up for a moment, rubbing his nose as the high was hitting.

“I see you found him.” Doc stood next to me. “This is mild compared to what he’s usually doing.” I kept my eyes trained on Nikki as he talked to Mick and Tom – laughing at whatever they were saying. “Bring back memories?”

I glanced at Doc, rolling my eyes before walking towards the white couch. Nikki was in his own world that he didn’t even notice that someone was getting closer. Tom was the first to notice, his jaw dropping to the floor as his eyes grew wide.

“Holy shit.”

Nikki and Mick looked up to see what caused Tom’s reaction, Nikki’s eyes connecting with mine. It took him a moment before his smile started to fall – sobering up within seconds.

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braingoo-stew · 10 months

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I just woke up from a dream where I was mainly wandering around my city and doing random shit, and at one point I found this old lady with a walker trying to cross the street. Now, she's not the focus, but she's important to the "plot". I notice that she keeps almost getting hit by cars because the intersection is HUGE we're talking like eight lanes at least and people would rather steamroll an old lady than let her pass, which I wasn't having. I told her that I'd help her across the street, seeing as I'm "a big beefy boy" (I'm tall and have relatively broad shoulders so it's true but it's funny to me that my brain chose to describe it like that) and I could act as a barrier of sorts, willing people to stop.

We start walking across the street and about halfway through I hear a noise that sounded suspiciously like a hand banging on the inside of a trunk so I look over because wtf, who's kidnapped? The person driving the car is none other than Susie Deltarune, and I come to the logical conclusion that Kris is in the trunk. I then comfort the old lady, who was worried, by saying "don't worry, this is a meme. It's not to be taken seriously."

So if that dreams-are-other-universes theory is true, that means there's a universe where Susie kidnapping Kris is a meme, something that would be on the same level as "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT KRIS, where the FUCK are we?!" meme.

#last night i dreamt #dream journal #weird dreams #for a second when I was writing these tags I lived in a universe where Dream the YouTuber did not exist and was wondering #why to people care about there already being a dream tag? even if it is technically taken they can use it too.#deltarune #susie #susie dr #kris x susie #yes I put kris x susie because I want krusie shippers to read this and sob #kris dreemurr

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asjjohnson · 1 year

Text

He lives in Amity Park. Just one of seventy thousand people making a living under the shield.

He makes a modest salary working at a garage. There's a handful of cars per day, coming in for oil changes or tune-ups, and the work is divided between him and two coworkers.

He considers himself to be pretty average. One face lost within a sea of thousands. Unnoticed and unmemorable.

He doesn't mind. He's a pretty bland person overall. He doesn't do much other than work, eat, watch whatever's showing on TV when he's at his small apartment, and sleep; and he doesn't feel he needs more from life than that.

He moved to Amity Park a few years ago, after wandering from place to place.

The ghost thing was new to him. He can't remember seeing a ghost until after moving here. And when the purpose of the shield was explained to him, he couldn't imagine ghosts beyond a vague idea. They were said to be slightly translucent and able to fly. And, in Amity Park, ghosts are just another part of their way of life. A normal sight to see. Especially Phantom.

Even now he can't build a clear mental image or description when it comes to ghosts. He never had a chance to really take one in.

Every time he sees Phantom, his mind goes blank, in pure terror.

Even on the other side of the shield, high in the sky 500 feet away, barely even close enough to make out the cape and suit, the ghost would cause him to freeze in place on the sidewalk, forgetting how to breathe while people push past him to continue on their way.

---

He's at the garage when the sirens come on. In an oil-stained jumpsuit, on his back beneath a car.

At first he's confused, cocking his head to listen, but someone yells that it's the shield.

He should've recognized the sound. There's a drill twice a year. Somewhat of a holiday. The entire town meets up in the shelters under the city. But the timing is off. Wrong month, wrong day, wrong time. For one thing, there is no work on Drill Day. So he didn't make the connection at first.

He puts his wrench down and follows the others out of the garage.

When he steps through the door, he sees Phantom in the distance, throwing parked cars, and he freezes as the others run.

It gets hard to breathe. He can't get enough air. His vision zeroes in on Phantom, the rest of the world vanishing. His heart pounds in his chest like it's trying to free itself. Phantom is coming nearer. He feels dizzy. His head is swimming. He... he has to sit... His knees hit the asphalt. His palms keep him from falling, his eyes never leave Phantom. The ghost comes nearer, casually, meanderingly, blasting random objects. As near as three businesses down. Two. Phantom turns and blows up the building across the street.

Phantom turns back around. Eyes focused overhead, at the garage building. A giddy-looking grin. Then the eyes drift downward.

They lock on him.

"What do we have here? A flea that forgot how to scurry away?"

He shudders at the sound of the voice. Trembles as Phantom floats nearer. He cringes on the ground, seeing his death mere feet away. Stares wide-eyed.

Phantom's grin fades, eyebrows furrowing as eyes study his face. Then, "You?" The eyes narrow, a sneer crossing the face. "I should have finished you."

He shrinks back as Phantom reaches for him. Squeezes his eyes tightly shut. Death. Death.

But instead, a strong hand grips his upper arm—and something seems to light up behind his eyes.

Memories flow through him like water.

A sister. Spinning on her heel with long orange hair flying, a superior, righteous expression as she says something.

Parents. Both wearing tight jumpsuits, excited, building a deadly weapon at the dinner table while asking about school.

Friends. One in black and one with glasses, putting a finger to their earpieces as they talk over each other making suggestions.

...Himself.

Tiredly brushing long black bangs out of his eyes as he reaches for a toothbrush. Lying on his back looking up at the stars. Observing a translucent, slightly glowing gloved hand, wiggling the fingers.

He exhales with a hiss. And snaps his eyes open to glare at Phantom. "You!" He jerks back, breaking Phantom's grip on his arm.

He was robbed of ten years of his life. Of who he is. He lived through ten years not realizing what was going on around him. Accepting the shield and the destruction as normal! And it was a part of himself doing all of this! Making the shield necessary! Out having a joyride at everyone's expense!

He's so angry. Furious.

He can feel his eyes light up for a split second, and a flash of green sparking in his palms. "I'll destroy you!"

He doesn't run for the emergency ecto-gun in the garage.

He lunges at Phantom with his bare hands, palms repeatedly trying to glow, sparking for only an instant at a time, like an igniter without fuel to back it up.

#danny phantom #dp #the ultimate enemy #dan phantom #dark danny #danny fenton #au #asj post #asj writing #I tried looking up what a panic attack feels like. I probably didn't write it very well though. But well I tried.#Hmm. It might be possible to interpret this ficlet more than one way.#rest of tags are ficlet spoilers #I'm still interested in the Tue 'human side doesn't die' possibility.#I'd always thought it was assumed that Dan killed his human side. But Vlad never said. Just said Dan did something pretty bad to him.#My 1st dp fic idea had an unconscious Danny. But I've been thinking about it again lately. I'm pushing the idea a little farther each time.#The idea here was that Danny's kinda an empty shell without much inside. Just going through life blankly and without memory.#He's a bg character. The only unique thing about him is that feeling of fear.#But when Dan touches him it creates a connection. So part of what was taken can return through that connection.#But there's a chance you could see the story as about a stranger who has some kind of skin-to-skin–contact mind-reading ability.#It could be someone other than Danny. Who takes Danny's memories from Dan.#...I didn't end the story early. I'd imagined the ending being him lighting like my computer's been doing and leaping for Dan.#(The computer had gotten better after awhile but after I reset/recovered it it's gotten bad again.#Last time I turned it on it took try after try after try. The power button light would only flash on for a split second. A blink.#Then after several tries the power button would flash on for slightly longer and I'd hear a part shift. Like a cutoff sentence like 'D—'.#the computer eventually came on though.)#I imagined more at the beginning and more at the end and more about the panicking. Just didn't think of the words to use.#The only reason he can punch at Dan at all is because of the residual power. It's like the Fenton Gauntlets that let humans touch ghosts.#Drill Day is like a fair. It's part practice part fun and part getting rid of old food supplies to get ready to restock.#People sometimes think Danny looks familiar but he gives a different name and shows no recognition. So he must just be a stranger.#'Danny died in the NB explosion right?' or 'That out-of-state billionaire adopted him.' or 'There'd been that Masters Mansion explosion.'

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crazy56u · 6 months

Text

Guess who has two thumbs and was effectively tricked into agreeing to work on his day off tonight?

Also, why the fuck is the title "Closure Encounters", I thought it was a typo at first...

No saga sell, we enter The X-Files and die like men, lets go.

"I'll go take a look", says the man about to be abducted by aliens...

Okay, legitimately, were those children real?

And why were there lawn gnomes?

Okay, given how "Star Light, Star Bright" actually did confirm aliens existed in the world of Quantum Leap, it's going to be interesting if this episode honors that.

"Look, maybe we can deal with the potential alien shit first, the relationship shit later?"

"Ziggy still doesn't know why you're here." Ziggy still doesn't know how to talk, Addison.

Project Sign flopped so Project Blue Book couldn't, checkmate, atheists.

Calling it: the police forced Carrie to take the blame.

And the car radio is being a real piece of shit right now.

"Pretty much remember everyone now." Meanwhile back at the Project, Tom starts to sweat and he doesn't know why.

"Can you take me through what happened?" "There was a car crash, and I wound up here." "Not what I meant."

They crossed into the Twilight Zone.

RULE OF THUMB: You cannot outrun a UFO, hitting the gas will only fuck you over.

My guess is that Melanie fell and hit her head, causing her coma.

"Like it or not, this is a criminal manner." "And I'm the criminal." Everyone's batting 1000 today.

Okay, calling it: the government is trying to cover up the UFO, so they moved the coma girl back into the car.

...or Russell Hunt did the coverup, honestly, either is likely at this stage. Not a good first impression.

"Say what you want, the law is on his side. Now if you excuse me, I have to be his lapdog."

"Okay, nine minutes of leap, one minute of Project, now you can't complain about us taking a break!"

I love the implication that it took Ben roughly eight hours to find a reflective surface.

"Could she really go to jail?" "Look, I don't wanna think about that right now, can I please just have a coffee?"

The atom bomb and yo-yos: Two horrors born out of World War II.

In this family, if you are a male, you either become the Sheriff, or you die. It's the 1940s, those are the rules.

So, is this a car chase scene, or...

Oh, how I so wish he just decided to floor it and play chicken- Okay, shut me the fuck up, then...

MORAL OF THE STORY: The sheriff has more stones than a random fuck with a hat.

"You're the one who called Project Sign." Honestly, did not expect that plot twist.

Addison, no need to state the obvious.

Okay, that's how you know the Sheriff is cool: He tampers with the crime scene to protect his granddaughter.

"I don't see why anyone would go out of their way to brush over their tracks." Yep, it's a coverup.

"Ben, I need to talk to you-" "Addison, if you are about to tell me there's no aliens, and Carrie is guilty, I am going to scream."

"Hey, this girl's in a coma, what do we do about it?" "Eh, just hang a cross over her head, it's the 1940s, that's good enough medical care."

"But it sounds so crazy..." "Honey, you're talking to a time traveler from 2022, possessing a man from the 1940s, investigating aliens."

My personal rule of thumb rears its head: Green is evil.

Ah, yes, that's smart, get Indiana Jones to help you beat up Agent Mulder in the middle of the street.

And now the Sheriff is packing.

So, basically, because Carrie crashed her car into Hunt's backyard, he has a fucking vendetta.

I will fucking laugh if Ben actually sees a UFO for real before he leaps out, and the Project is made to look like dummies.

"Addison, your ex-fiance is getting reckless, tell him to calm the fuck down." "Magic, I flushed my ring three years ago, I will do no such thing."

Calling it now, Hunt is in the middle of burning his helicopter in the middle of nowhere.

And back to the blue dimension.

"Grief is a strange thing." Well, according to Queen Elizabeth, and a shithead fanfic, grief is also the price we pay. [I will not be explaining the context to that latter bit.]

And the Imaging Chamber conked out, that's how you know it's aliens.

Also, soft confirmation that Janis isn't coming back for Season 2.

"SHIT, I ALWAYS WANTED TO SHOOT A UFO/HELICOPTER!"

And the cameraman snaps and mauls Raymond Lee.

[I don't know which is worse: The fact that Glade Pods had that guy make time stop by making love to his blanket, or the fact his name was Steve.]

And Ben wakes up either in the sheriff's house, or a fancy ass hotel.

Translation: Ben is openly suppressing his emotional problems.

Okay, so, did the cameraman inject Ben and Melanie with evil?

But when was the military ever exotic, Ben?

"You said you didn't believe in UFOs." "Well, I'm an open-minded man, and I hate Hunt more."

Okay, Ian, could you bottom-line what that drug was, I know you said Ben was right, but you just said gibberish to me.

Oh shit, a triangle.

Why does this 1940s neighborhood look like the 1980s?

And the sheriff is about to pull a Thelma and Louise.

"Ben, if the sheriff leaves, Hunt's going to send him to jail." "Yeah, I got that."

Is Ben going to get shot by the sheriff in broad daylight?

"Ben, you can't just walk into a military base, Ben why are you ignoring me?!"

"Look, I got a syringe of adrenaline, I'll be fine!"

Meanwhile, back at the Project, it's pointed out that Ben's plan is stupid.

This is the closest Ian has ever gotten to being in Independence Day.

And Ben chooses then and there to flip the fuck out over his relationship shit, like a sane man.

[Switching to WordPad.]

And Ben gets attacked by the Splinter Cell guy, and wakes up in Area 52, that's how you know this episode is sane.

Meanwhile, in MASH.

"DUMP THE BODY AND FLEE, MEN!"

"BEN, WAKE UP, YOU'RE SHIRTLESS!"

"Okay, we're in luck, my ghost was able to see everything, we have proof now!" "Son, did they fucking drug you with the hard shit this time?!"

And the climax takes place in an empty field.

Why does the Man in Black look like Kevin Costner?

This was the same mine they faked the Roswell Incident in.

Gamma blue 5, coincidentally enough, would later go on to be used in the invention of Monster Energy.

You know it's a good ending if the heroes are about to blackmail a new car out of the government.

"I don't know how best to thank you." "Just keep living your life, I guess, I dunno, the episode's almost over."

"Okay, I just trimmed my bonsai tree, now the migraine's kicking in."

Addison, he was just unconscious, it's not like they stabbed him in the jugular.

"Look, maybe I should just leave the show-" "Yeah, that ain't happening."

Is Tom the Poochie now? They basically just did a Poochie.

And while Magic talks to Phone Guy, Ben still hasn't leapt yet.

"All's well that ends well." There's three minutes left, Ben.

Annnnnnnnnd I am instantly suspicious of the waitress.

[Okay, am I wrong, or did it only get established it was 1949 right then and there?]

"Bye, Hannah." "Wait, no, Red vs. Blue taught me saying goodbye is bad!"

And Ben wakes up on the set of a heist movie.

[Next time on Quantum Leap: Ben discovers the horrors of Hollywood. On a completely unrelated note, the SAG-AFTRA strike is still ongoing.]

Truly, that was a closure encounter.

#quantum leap #closure encounters #spoilers #the x-files #the twilight zone #independence day #splinter cell #mash

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just-let-me-adore-you · 9 months

Text

Lover |H.S|

Part 2: The Betrayal

Description: Her mother has cancer, she dropped out of college to get a job just to barely scrape up enough money to pay for her mother's treatments. But, when Blaire Pascoe gets a once in a lifetime opportunity to become a member in Harry's band. An opportunity that will change her life forever. Both good and bad.

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

Warnings

•some swearing

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

•Recap•

"Look, this is gonna' sound really random but I need another guitarist and you're literally bloody insane! My team and I have been looking high and low for a guitarist but I think I may have just found one?"

I stood more in shock than I had been, "Y-you're in a band too!?"

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

[Blaire's P.O.V.]

He let out a laugh, as I stared at him with a cloud of confusion, and shock looming over me.

"Yeh, I am, look I'll tell you more once you get home or whatever. Just text me when you do, alright?"

"Um, why can't you just tell me now?" His eyes told me he was holding something back. "You can tell me." I spoke more quietly.

"Uh, alright I gotta' go." He spoke as his eyes flicked to somewhere off in the distance. Just as he spoke he was gone. I was left on the sidewalk beyond confused and speechless.

***

About fifteen minutes later I'd made it home in one piece thankfully . . .

In the span of the car ride I'd been to distracted thinking about if I should even take Harry up on his offer or not that I almost hit a pedestrian crossing the street while using the crosswalk no less, almost hit a squirrel as well. And caught myself going ten over the speed limit. I was lucky to be alive, lucky I didn't get a ticket.

"Hey, you're finally home! How was the gig?" My mom greeted me from the living room. I took my shoes off and set my car keys in the dish before making my way out into the room where I took a seat on the couch.

"Good." I say, apparently it was obvious my mind was elsewhere.

"What's got you so ... shaken up?" My mom asked furrowing her brows together.

"Uh, well I may or may not have gotten offered to be in some guys band." I spoke, I felt my cheeks flush.

"Really!? Do you think you're gonna' take the offer?"

"That's the thing, I don't know if I should. I mean, I've been in the same band for a few years and we haven't really accomplished much. But at the same time leaving the band would mean leaving behind my friends. And I don't think Talia or Dylan would be so keen with the idea of me leaving." I rambled, looking down at my feet.

"Look at me," I looked up to meet my mom's gaze, "When are you going to learn to start putting yourself before other people?"

"I don't know." I spoke, the truth was ever since my last relationship with this dickhead of a guy I changed in more ways than one. And becoming a so called "people-pleaser" was one of them.

"Well, you can't wait for an invitation. You've gotta' change that for yourself."

"Yeah, I know." I say, "Well, I love you but I'm gonna' go clean up and then head to bed." I say rising to my feet. My mom held her arms open for a hug. I gladly gave her one. I never knew when the last one would be so I cherished every single one.

I made my way into my room and turned the light on, opened my closet and pulled out a pair of pajamas. Suddenly my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a notification from Harry.

From Harry: You make it home yet?

To Harry: Yeah, sorry.

From Harry: Np. So, about the band thing?

To Harry: Can you give me like half an hour, please? I wanna' think about it some more. Plus I'm getting around for bed.

From Harry: Yeh, sure. Just text me when you've made up your mind. I also don't have all day either.

To Harry: I get it. Tty in a bit.

***

I sat on my bed with a towel wrapped around my hair. I pulled out my laptop from beside my bed and opened it. While taking a shower I decided it'd probably be a good idea to look up this dude before I just agreed to be part of his band.

I opened my laptops search engine and typed, 'Harry Styles'. It loaded when a Wikipedia wedsite popped up. I clicked on that and about had a stroke.

"Woah, what!?" I exclaimed as I read up on how he became a world famous musician. Something about being in a boy band called One Direction and blah blah blah. I had read enough to know that his offer was the real deal. I opened up our messages and sent him another.

To Harry: Uhhhh. Care to explain why you didn't tell me your a famous singer???

From Harry: Wow, I'm honestly surprised you didn't already know...

To Harry: Now you just sound cocky.

From Harry: Really? I mean you asked me to explain and so I did.

To Harry: Haha, very funny. Now, what about this offer?

From Harry: Well...like I said you'd be a part of my band AFTER signing a shit ton of contracts that is.

To Harry: That's it?

From Harry: Well to get you signed with me yeah that's it. But, you've gotta be able to know how to play the notes to my songs before September 19th.

To Harry: Alr, shouldn't be a big deal.

From Harry: Good, also would you be okay as being a back vocalist as well? I think you've got an amazing voice from what I heard tonight.

To Harry: Aw, thanks. I mean I don't see why not, I've been doing it for a few years now so nothing new.

From Harry: Alright, deal then?

To Harry: Deal.

From Harry: Great ok, I'll contact my team and then they'll contact you to schedule an appointment for you to sign the contracts.

To Harry: Sounds good. Okay well, I'm going to get something to eat, so bye ttyl or whenever.

From Harry: Yep, I'll tell you what my team says.

To Harry: Okay, thank you.

***

I just finished loading the last bit of dishes into the dish washer and at this point felt exhausted from my long day. Thank God it's the weekend. I made my way into my room and decided to call Talia to tell her about the deal I'd made with Harry. She picked up almost immediately.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Uh, well you're probably not going to believe me when I say this but I just a once in a lifetime offer to become part of a world famous musicians band! This could be life changing, I'd be able to actually afford my mom's cancer treatments, Tal!" I squealed from the overflowing amount of excitement. There was nothing but silence from the other line. "You still there?"

"What the f*ck! You know how betrayed I feel right now!? You are my best friend, we've been friends since elementary school and now all of a goddamn sudden your leaving behind your band and me for some dumbass offer!?" She screamed, I opened my mouth and closed it. "I'm done! This is just a bunch of shit!" She yelled again.

"Well, you know what if you were truly a real friend you'd understand why I took the offer." I hung up the call and tossed my phone to the end of the bed before I covered my face in my palms and began sobbing out of anger and frustration. It wasn't the words that stung the most, it was the fact she couldn't be happy for me. It shows how selfish some people can be.

Minutes passed and the sound of my phone buzzing interrupted my rampant thoughts. I wiped away a stray tear before I saw Harry's caller ID flashing on the screen. I breathed in and out until I was sure I had gained my composure, once I had I answered the call.

"Hey, why are you calling me?" I sniffled and wiped my nose as I waited for a response.

"Are-are you okay?"

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about, Harry. But thank you." I spoke sniffling again.

"You can tell me, I won't judge you."

"N-no, it's alright. Its not a big deal. I don't wanna'waste your time."

"You won't be wasting my time, I'm genuinely concerned."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeh, I don't care."

"Okay, well," I sucked in a breath, "I told my bandmate who I've been friends with since the first grade that I'm leaving the band and she told me I betrayed her and the band, when in reality I didn't and never would do that intentionally. And so now I'm pretty sure I just lost someone who was like a sibling to me."

"Well, I can say that if she were a true friend she should be happy and proud of you. So, I think you did the right thing. That's jus' my opinion and I know we're basically complete strangers but believe me I know what 's like to lose someone who was like a sibling."

"Yeah, well thank you. I guess, talking about it helped."

"S' not a problem. Are you okay now though?"

"Y-yeah, I think so." I fought off a smile.

"Good, good. Well, I jus' called to let you know I talked to my team and they say that they'll try to schedule something as soon as they can."

"Awesome! Thanks, Harry."

"Not a problem, also if you have any other questions jus' text or call me. If I don't answer jus' assume I'm busy."

"Alright, I will."

"Yeh, also do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"Uh, no besides being lazy. Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go grab some lunch? Jus' to get to know one another a bit better."

"I don't wanna' make the wrong assumption but are you asking me on a date?" His laugh echoed before he replied.

"Maybe, jus' maybe."

"Okay, well yeah, what time?"

"I'd say around noon."

"Okay, sounds good. See you tomorrow then."

"Yeh, see you, Blaire." He spoke before ending the call. The realization hit me that I was literally going on a date with some random guy I didn't even know. Maybe I was ready to date again? Maybe I just didn't even know it?

I rose from the comfort of my bed and pulled out an outfit for tomorrow. I still couldn't believe Talia reacted the way she did. If she were truly my friend she would've been happy. I mean sure I might be a little upset too if my friend had just randomly told me that they were leaving the band. But, she knows how hard it is for me and my mom to afford her cancer treatments. And frankly our band wasn't giving me much income, and my income from the dinner is primarily based on tips. It was just barely enough to pay for my mom's treatments.

Suddenly there was a knock on my door, I turned around and saw my mom standing in the doorway with a quizzical look on her face.

"Were you crying?" She asked taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

"Uh, yeah, I'm okay." I spoke with a small smile.

"You're lying, what happened?" She gently spoke. I blew out a breath and sighed.

"Well, long story short I called Talia to tell her about the offer and she chewed me out for betraying her and the band. And mom, with this offer I'd be able to pay your treatments with no problem. And I even told her that and she wasn't even happy." I explained, setting my outfit on my dresser.

"Well, for one she needs to apologize-"

"No, I don't even need an apology from her. She blew it, I don't care if I'm overreacting, she knows how important your treatments are to me. She knows how hard it is to pay for them. She knows mom, she knows." She gave me a sympathetic smile.

"C'mere." She spoke with open arms. I walked over to her and wrapped my arms around her. She broke away from the embrace and shot me another smile before she rose from the bed. "Well, I'll let you be." She began making her way towards the door.

"Okay, well goodnight, I love you, mom."

"I love you too." She made her way out of the room leaving me alone. I turned my TV on and shut the lights off. Walking through the dimly lit room I crawled into my bed and pulled the covers over my body.

August 28th 2017

[Blaire's P.O.V.]

I sat in the booth at the cafe waiting for Harry to walk in through the doors. After knowing what I knew about him I figured he'd prefer it if we sat off in a corner to be less in the open. I anxiously bounced my leg up and down as my eyes lingered on the door.

I glanced down at the time on my phone and saw it was 12:23. Twenty-three minutes past the time Harry and I had agreed to meet at. As I sat in my cloud of anxiety I picked at my cuticle, my leg bounced as well.

'Maybe I misread his message this morning about what time to meet at?'

'What if I'm the one who's late?'

'No, we agreed to meet at noon.'

'Maybe he's just running a little behind?'

My thoughts ran rampant, I was too busy wrapped up within my anxious thoughts to notice the tattooed hand that waved in front of my face.

"Hey, Blaire." He cleared his throat grabbing my attention. I gave him a flustered smile.

"Oh, hi sorry." I spoke.

"No, 's fine, also sorry I'm running a little late. Traffic was awful." He apologized, shooting me a charming smile.

"Oh, no it's alright, I kinda' figured that was why."

"Well, how are you?" He asked removing his coat revealing a plain white tee. My eyes danced upon the two dark blotches that rested just below his collar bones, that were barely visible. My eyes traveled to his left arm that was covered in tattoos before they traveled back up to meet his.

"I'm pretty good, what about you?"

"Good, um do you know what you want to order? M' not rushing you or anything."

"Uh, I figured I'd just get a sandwich." I say, he nodded his head.

"I gotcha', you want anything to drink?"

"Nah, thanks though." I say shaking my head with a smile. "Do you know what you want?"

"Yeh, I come here a lot when I'm in New York." I nodded before I decided to ask a question.

"Who's your favorite band or musician?" He pursed his lips in thought.

"Probably Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles, jus' rock in general."

"Oh, I love Fleetwood too!" I spoke with a smile.

"As boring as this question is, whas' you're favorite animal?"

"Oh my god, a cat."

"Really? I love 'em too." He spoke with wide eyes. Just then a waiter made her way over to the booth.

"Hello, my names Anna, what would you guys like today?"

"Uh, I'll just have a grilled ham and cheese sandwich." I say looking up at her. She quickly scribbled something down onto a piece of paper.

"And what would you like, sir?"

"Um, jus' a fish sandwich is fine, uh and with a water, please."

"Alright, it should be out within fifteen minutes." She smiled tucking her pen and paper into her apron. She walked off out of my line of sight.

"What made you want to get into music?" Harry asked.

"Um, I don't know to be honest. I guess, the first time I ever picked up a guitar and played it. What about you?"

"Makes sense, and honestly I was in a band back in school called White Eskimo. And I was the lead singer so, then it just all kind of went from there."

"Oh, wow, that sounds like it'd be fun."

"Yeh, it was. Come to think of it without them I don't know where I'd be, the same goes to the other band I was in."

"Yeah, it's crazy to think about where we'd be if we hadn't of taken that leap of faith or made that choice." I say.

"Yeah, well whas' your favorite food?"

"Boring but it's chicken."

"Yeh, I haven't eaten chicken in a few years."

"Oh, are on some sort of diet or?"

"Yeh, I'm a pescetarian."

"Oh, I know a few people who are also pescetarian as well. They say once they started they felt way better and like they had more energy."

"Yeh, that's kind of how I felt."

"Doesn't it cut out a bunch of different things though?"

"I mean, I can say that it's definitely not the diet for someone who doesn't like seafood."

"Eh, I don't mind it, I'm not real crazy for it though. Well, what's your favorite food?"

"Tacos, all the way."

"They actually sound good. I haven't had them a while."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Um, no, do you?"

"Yeh, I have an older sister named Gemma, she's really sweet." He smiled. I smiled at the way he spoke of her. He pulled off his hat and gave his hair a quick comb of the fingers.

"What's your favorite book or movie of all time?" I ask.

"The Notebook." He bashfully smiled. I found it kind of cute and amusing to see him become flustered causing a blush to spread over his cheeks.

"Aw, I love that movie." I smiled, "I've only ever seen it once and I cried." His smile grew in size as I spoke.

"Maybe we'll have to watch it together some time." He spoke with a smirk.

"I'll take you up on that."

***

After about twenty minutes of asking questions back and forth, I'd come to realize that there were a lot of good qualities about Harry. I mean for one he's nice, confident, and most definitely charming. It was clear to me he knew what he was doing judging by the way I hadn't stopped smiling in the past twenty minutes.

Just then the same waitress from earlier came over balancing two small plates in each of her hands. She set mine down first followed by Harry's.

"Um, I don't mean to be rude but where's my water?" Harry spoke.

"Oh, I forgot I'm so sorry I'll be right back." She quickly apologized.

"No worries, you're alrigh'." He smiled, before he busied himself with unwrapping the wrapper around his sandwich. I followed suit, taking a bite of the cheesy sandwich. For as simple as it was it was probably one of the best grilled ham and cheese sandwiches I'd ever had.

"Is it good, love?" He asked swallowing.

"Yeah, it is. How is your's?" I watched as he brought his fingers to his lips and did a chef's kiss motion. I laughed at his actions as did he.

"Here's your water, sir." The waitress spoke placing the bottle of water onto the table. Harry shot her a quick smile before she walked away.

"Ya' know I hate seeing people get all rude and snotty with waiters who mess up someone's order." I say watching as she walks away. "If only they knew how much waiters have to do." I add.

"Yeah, you make an excellent waiter though." He smiled.

"Thanks." I smiled.

***

We'd both finished eating and sat as we mindlessly chatted about the most randomest of things. My eyes flicked away from Harry's striking green ones to the waitresses deep brown ones as she made her way over to us.

"Okay, so is the bill split or just one?" She asked.

"Uh, just make it one." Harry replied, I fought off the urge to argue and say it needed to be split but I knew he was just trying to be nice.

"Alright, well I'll be right back." She spoke with a smile before walking off.

"Thank you." I say.

"For wha'?"

"For paying, you didn't have to all I got was a sandwich."

"Yeh, exactly all you got was a sandwich." He stated.

"Well, regardless thank you for paying." I say with a grateful smile.

"S' not a big deal." He smiled.

***

We walked out of the cafe side by side, the warm air brushed against my exposed skin.

"Well, I had a great time with you, Blaire." Harry spoke, as we walked across the surprisingly peaceful New York street.

"Thanks, so did I, Harry." I smiled.

"Well, do you think you'd be interested in doing this again?" He questioned momentarily glancing over at me as he walked with his head down.

"I mean, yeah I definitely would." I smiled. He suddenly stopped and turned to face me.

"Alrigh', well my cars right here." He spoke, retrieving his car keys from his pocket.

"Yeah, well bye, Harry." I spoke, he shot me a smile.

"Yep, bye Blaire. Hey, text me when you get back home please."

"I will, bye." I waved bye as I walked away. I couldn't contain my smile any longer. It was like an overflowing amount of happiness had hit me all at once.

***

I arrived back home and set my keys into the dish my mom wasn't home, which was surprising. I ventured into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Pulling out my phone I sent Harry a message saying I got home.

From Harry: Ok, thanks. Ttyl.

To Harry: Alr, ttyl, Harry.

I closed out of my messages to see a Twitter notification that I had been tagged in. I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"Who in the hell knows my name?" I whispered to myself. I clicked on the notification and my eyes grew wide.

My eyes traveled down to the person who tweeted it, they began scanning over the words.

harrystylesfaninfinity: "WHAT THE FUCK!??? WHO THE HELL IS SHE!?"

styles_1D: dude! I was at this bar last night and that's literally Blaire Pascoe! She was introduced by her bandmate Talia Lane! She plays the guitar and can sing! OMG what if Harry was at the bar and they met!?

sottlover: ummm???? How else do u think they met? I've never even heard of Blaire soooo. They def met at that bar u were talking abt unless they met before that but it just seems odd that all of a sudden there spotted together after coincidentally being at the same bar...yeah they definitely met at the bar.

sweet_creature: okay just a therory but what if these two have been together for a while and Harry wrote sweet creature abt her???

Callie: yeah sure okay

styles_1994: brooo! this is too much for me rn! he's going on tour in like a month! Wtf!

my_life_revolves_around_harry: dude I stg if they're dating I'm gonna throw myself off a cliff!

Larry_is_real: no they're not dating...Harry loves Louis too much to do that.

nialler_horan: OMFG why with the Larry shit!

stylesgivesmelife: dude she's ugly just saying

harry_styles_fan: bro just stop, it's what's in the heart that matters not the looks.

Talia_Lane: wow, is this the guy you're supposedly signing a contract with to be in his band? his fucking style is lamer than you. Hahaha!

I felt my body overcome with a sense of anger, why couldn't she just get over it? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and it would change my life for the good. Why couldn't she just be happy for me? She knew how important this was to me. If anyone was betrayed it'd be me, not her. I didn't betray her, I did what was best for me and my family.

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

Alr, I hope you like it! Thank you to the people who have liked this story! It means a lot! Feel free to add comments or do wtv.

All the love, Skye

#harry styles #fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #romance #haylor #taylor swift #harry edward styles #hs1era #harry styles hs1

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doctorguilty · 9 months

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Nightmares

I feel asleep when i got home because I was tired and also started having an awful headache, but I slept so weirdly having weird and bad dreams and waking up a lot and falling back asleep, at one point I woke myself up because I was sleep talking (rare for me but when it does happen I tend to wake up from my own noise) and I vaguely remember I was having a dream where I was talking to someone random, but irl I whispered "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to" and it's weird getting woken up by my own sleep talking cause it's like there's an overlap where I'm still asleep saying it but I'm also waking up and aware mid sentence. Anyway idk it's usually a bad sign when that happens like it means I'm having weird stress dreams

I fell back asleep shortly after and I proceeded to have an awful nightmare, I dreamed I got dropped off at a store and I waited to get picked up but nobody came because they all fell asleep. It was 10 pm when I finally called someone because the store closed and I was just standing outside in the dark. My grandma picked up, I'd woken her up and I felt bad but she came to get me. For whatever reason everyone was staying at my mom's house, so that's where she was driving me home to.

My mom's house is kinda in the sticks irl, not horribly so, but the roads do get scary at night because they're windy and dark which is what I was dreaming about. We had driven SO long we should have gotten there by now but somehow we got lost. After turning around multiple times and seeing nothing we recognized I took out my phone to use Google maps but every time I typed in the address, it would route me to a completely different address. Like it didn't recognize the address and just "autofilled" what it thought I meant but it was unhelpful because I didn't recognize any of its suggestions. In the meantime my grandma kept driving, somehow unfazed and just saying things like "hm. Must've taken a wrong turn. It's okay I'll find it". I tried zooming in on the map and just manually looking but my service was poor and it was difficult getting street names and such to load. Sometimes I just had no service whatsoever and I just had to wait until it came back

In the meantime the road was so dark I was scared of crashing, a few times there was stuff that quickly crossed the road like deer though sometimes it looked like a small child or something and would just disappear into the darkness. Sometimes there was most definitely like adult people jogging alongside the road even though it in the middle of the night and I was scared we'd hit someone.

Any time I could get any coherent glimpse of the map it seemed like we'd gone 40 mins in the wrong direction, I suggested maybe we stop driving and wait until I could finally route us to the address but my grandma just calmly said it's okay don't worry she's just gonna keep looking

We were driving through like, tunnels and shit that don't exist in that area, sometimes we wouldn't see the road and accidently drive off it and like slide down a hill to a lower road. And she'd just keep driving.

It felt like hours and there'd be times where the sun was rising and we could see the roads a little better, but then suddenly it would become pitch dark again. (I don't recall seeing any kind of clock in the dream or even thinking about checking one.) My grandma never seemed distressed by any of this, which made it worse. She just kept calmly driving. Eventually in the dream I began to think I? We? Were dead and this was purgatory. Driving in the dark forever looking for my mom's house and never getting there.

Irl, I'd woken up SEVERAL TIMES, thought "oh thank God that dream is over" like very coherently, rolled over or whatever, fall back asleep, and the dream just continued where it left off in the car. It must have been 4 or 5 times this repeated before, finally, here I am now being like, I don't want to go back to sleep I'm awake I'm not getting back in the car

My head still hurts anyway so I should take some of my prescription medicine. And eat. Fuck

#seth speaks

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cinnamon-bunni · 1 year

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Day 3: Warm Food

Here is the start of my Comfortember fics! Very excited about all these <3 while i didn't end up writing as many fics as i wanted to, i'm still happy with the ones that i did end up finishing. I was also just so excited to write about Nora, she's definitely one of my favorite OCs that I have, so i hope y'all enjoy her as well <3

Read it on Ao3! Word count: 1.3k

Nora liked days like these. The days where the weather wasn’t too terrible, and Aran’s mood wasn’t terrible either. The days when they strolled down the city streets, maybe into some sort of park or possibly down to the ports, until they found themselves in some sort of trouble. The sort of days when Aran bought her some random food, and they wouldn’t eat some shitty frozen food in their freezer. The days where he even listened to her when she rambled on and on about the books she read, and gave his own thoughts. Because, believe it or not, she liked having his attention and spending time with her brother.

(“C’mon, don’t you have friends for that sort of thing?” he had asked one day. Her blank stare was more than enough of an answer.)

Those days were few, though. A mix of Aran being in the States for boxing season, Nora in school, and her working as a waitress, they never really had the time. And even when they did, it was a hit or miss if it was actually a good day for either of them. The two didn’t exactly go together like peanut butter and jelly–and as oblivious Nora is to those sorts of things, even she knew that.

But on rare good days, it was fun. Nora liked them because they often outshone the bad days she had. And her brother wasn’t the worst, she supposed, so there was that.

“Hey.” Aran nudged her with his elbow, and nodded towards one of the buildings that was across the street. “Wanna get something to eat?”

The idea of getting out of the bustling street appealed to Nora, as did the idea of getting some food. But even from afar she could see how jam-packed it was, like a tin can full of sardines. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

But of course, Aran didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead, he grabbed her by her arm, and started to drag her over to cross the street. Right into traffic too, with loud car horns and screeching of tires filling the air. Drivers yelled, Aran yelled back, and Nora quickened her step to cross faster.

Lunch rushes were always the worst, and of course it was no different in the restaurant that her brother pushed her into. She ran into a man with a large coat, stumbled back into her brother, and she hated how cramped it was. She felt stuffed inside, as the small waiting area was already packed with people who were in line for a table. The building was filled with noises of people talking, shouting or laughing, cutlery scraping against plates, and the sizzlings of food in the kitchen.

The place became a sudden overload for her senses, and Nora hated it. She wished that she had brought her headphones.

Nora gave a distressed hum, in hopes that Aran would hear. Whether he heard her or not didn’t matter though, because she was left ignored. She stuck close to him, even though her cheeks burned in embarrassment as she realized how weird it was for a seventeen-year-old like her to be so pathetic and overwhelmed.

The only upside she found was that she was at least somewhat warm now.

She ended up being too focused on keeping herself grounded that she hadn’t realized that a waiter had asked them to follow him to their table. She stumbled a bit when her brother pushed her, but she followed. Whether Aran cut his way in front of the other people who were waiting, or the line just moved that quickly, Nora wasn’t sure. Wasn’t like she paid much attention to her surroundings.

They were led to a booth, one that was surrounded by other bustling and loud patrons. Once again did she just wish that they ate somewhere quieter and less packed. They looked through the menu, and they ordered. Aran talked, as much as he always did. He ranted on and on, not letting Nora get a single word in. Not like she would anyway, as she never really had much to say.

Aran was always like that though. Always unnecessarily filling up the space with his voice, somehow leading the one-sided conversation that was about boxing to American restaurants to animals to New York, until he completely forgot what he originally wanted to say. It frustrated Nora to no end.

She listened as he drummed his fingers on the table. Watched as he bounced not one, but both legs, causing the table to shake and rattle. She stayed silent as she gripped the sleeves of her jacket tightly.

Nora was pulled out of her mind, once again by her brother. A flick to her nose caused her to flinch, and give a harsh glare at him.

“Oh good, ya didn’t check out on me.” Her brother leaned back into his seat, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she just stared at him. “Mind telling me what caused it this time?”

“Too loud,” she answered. Her brother gave an inquisitive look, and she just shrugged. “Don’t like the noise.”

“Well, it’s good that I’m taking you out then, yeah? Getting used to it will help.” Nora shrugged again. That’s what everyone said–if she just actually went outside instead of staying in her room all day long, then eventually she would get used to the loudness of the world. But it didn’t solve the problem of losing herself when it got too overwhelming, nor did it help on the bad days when even the quietest of noises made her upset. Nothing adults ever told her helped, and she doubted Aran would be the exception.

“I should’ve brought my headphones,” Nora muttered. She withheld a flinch when her brother scoffed.

“Surprised you didn’t. Never seen you leave the flat without those dingy things. What’s with that, anyway?”

“It helps,” she answered, and added, “with the noises. It makes ‘em quieter, easier to deal with.”

“Does it really?”

“Mhm.”

“Huh.” Aran never stopped drumming his fingers. She could see on his face that he was thinking–a rare sight for the man.

She gripped her sleeves tighter, listening to the deafening silence between them, taking in all the other noises around her. Rubbing the fur on the cuff of her jacket with her thumb calmed her a bit, but not by much.

The waiter came by with their food. She mouthed a silent “thank you”, while her brother muttered his own.

“Well,” her brother started, grabbing a chip off of his plate, “if ya want, I can buy ya a new pair once we’re done here.”

She snapped her gaze up to him. “Really?”

“Eh, why not? The one you got is shitty and old anyway, might as well replace it.” He tossed the chip into his mouth, and she couldn’t help but smile, even while her brother started to bang his fist on the table because of the hot food burning his mouth.

Nora fought the urge to stomp her feet in delight. She couldn’t stop smiling. Eager to finish her meal and get out of the boisterous restaurant, she quickly scooped up spoonfuls of her stew to finish quickly. She then started to bang her fist as her tongue burned. She glared at her brother, who gave an ugly snort at her pain.

Whatever, it was fine. She continued to eat–slowly, blowing on the food this time–and felt herself warm right up. More than just from the heater of the building, or from the burning hot food, but from what her brother said. He’d buy a new pair of headphones. He would buy it. It was something so small, something that didn’t even really matter, but it made her smile nonetheless. Warmth spread through her chest, and Nora stomped her feet in glee, as a small indulgence. Her boots clacked loudly against the wood, annoying and harsh but it felt good. And then her brother didn’t say anything about it, and Nora couldn’t stop smiling.

#comfortember #comfortember 2022 #punch out #punch out!!#punch out wii #aran ryan #oc nora #oc nora ryan

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mrsmoonlightsblog · 2 years

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Absolute rage consumes me as I write this piece

This essay will contain many topics: mentions of struggling mental health; first hand experience of sexual harassment; thoughts of murder and suicidal thoughts.

Absolute rage consumes me as I write this piece. I am utterly mortified at the realisation that has hit me of what it truly is to be a woman in today’s society. Yes, I have written essays about how disadvantaged women are in society and how badly they are treated. I have had a couple experiences of scary men but nothing that would amount to what I have experienced today.

I have to admit I don’t currently live for myself. For example, what I wear is dictated by the idea that I don’t want to be approached in a way where I’m belittled to just my body parts. Yet, I have just registered in my mind that no matter what you wear you will still be approached in ways you don’t like. Majority of the time, I wear clothes that are a bit bigger on me so my figure doesn’t show and at first I thought it was just my fashion choice but really it was just fear holding onto me from past experiences of being catcalled in leggings and dresses while being in just year 7.

Today, my parents sent me on a mission to find some ice - cream since shops close early on a sunday and we had just cooked horrible waffles, which could not be wasted. Originally, my sister was supposed to go but she didn’t want to because it was raining. So I went and she followed me. I’m walking through the street and someone ran past me. A black man -probably in his 20s. He wore dirty white joggers, a zipped hoodie and shoes. He turned around and started making hand gestures that I’m guessing was supposed to be a warning signal and was saying stuff that would most likely be curse words. I thought nothing of it because it’s just another day strolling through peckham. My little sister was still trudging behind while I walked into the first corner shop.There was no ice- cream so I walked back out to the street and waited for my sister at the crossing.

We crossed the road together and restarted our mission to the next corner shop. I saw the same man again; he stood near a bus stop signal. He walked right past me again and being honest I knew he was saying something to me but all I heard was gibberish. This time I started to pick up my pace cause I was getting anxious. He crossed the street but I still kept an eye on him. He looked at me as if I offended him terribly but I do not know who this man was. He walked off into another street or so I thought. I started picking my pace a bit faster and I looked back to see that he was once again on my tail. I started shaking and called my mother. I told her the situation I was in, she suggested I get into a bus and go to another corner shop a bit further.

The call was cut; I decided to call one of my friends to feel safer and then I walked into the last corner shop on the street. There was no ice- cream so I walked back out. As I walked out the shop, the man following me was clearly looking for me and I didnt realise that till too late. I bumped into him and walked away quickly. If I'm being honest, although I held my sister’s hand, I did not cross the road safely at all. At this point, I was shaking and crying out of fear, so I didn’t care. Fortunately, the bus came at that minute so I hopped on and went to the other corner shops.

The specific ice - cream I was looking for was not in any shops so I went back home. I got sent back out again by myself to just get any ice - cream. At this point, I just felt confused as to what I had just experienced. My phone died. I was walking back home with some random ice-cream in hand. The tears were finally starting to dry. Then all of a sudden, a black car slowed down. I looked over to see another black man, sucking in his teeth and whistling at me telling me to get into his car. Absolute rage consumed me and I was barking profanities at this guy. He finally drove off but he was laughing at me and flipping me off just like I flipped him off. Once again, water works left the windows of my soul but this time I wasn’t just upset. I was furious but I couldn't express it as having a tantrum by hitting the wall and stomping my feet. Instead, I was laughing. If anyone saw me at that moment you would’ve thought I was crazy and delusional. However I just couldn't help myself.

I guess I’ve finally realised the meaning of being mature,living in this broken society. I can’t report what happened. Even my own parents can't do anything but tell me to get used to it and learn how to defend myself. It’s wicked how this uk government is by caring more about the physical injuries my attackers face through me defending myself, then me being the victim facing this traumatic situation. I googled what the only legal ‘weapon’ I could carry around with me was. I found the results shocking - a rape alarm. The law - makers of this country must be having a laugh. They must be finding some kind of sadistic joy in seeing women suffer. What would an alarm do, especially in a society today that likes to ignore people’s cry for help? I should wait for a strong man to come and help me while another strong man is abusing me - the irony.

I can really see why they ban weapons though at the same time. If I had a knife in that moment of abosulte rage, I would’ve carved into the face of that stupid,smirking man. I would’ve stabbed him multiple times out of pure anger just to remove that laughing smile off his face. He would’ve looked prettier coated in his own blood, laying back in his car with the life drained out of his eyes. You may think what I’m thinking is absurd or an exaggeration to what happened. But to be honest, this interaction was more than just another catcall. It was the power imbalance expressed during those moments. In these moments, I felt weak and ashamed. I even took seconds to look at what I was wearing to see whether any curves were showing and nothing was. If this experience happened while I was in my suicidal ‘phase’, I would’ve certainly just unalive myself after that experience. I would've finally stabbed myself with a knife, jumped off the edge or walked into a busy road. It was more than just a few gestures expressed, it was just the fact I was a defenceless young woman who had nothing to give but fear. The smirk on both of their ugly faces said that they enjoyed the look of tears running down my face.

It’s easy for me to demand change in the legal aspects. There are already a few laws put in place to ‘protect’ victims but that's clearly not enough because society plays a huge role. For my parents to dismiss my experience as nothing but something I should just get used to is very heart - breaking but I can’t blame them because that’s how society is. Society normalises a lot of detrimental things to the point that people don’t even realise they are victims or abusers to one another. We are taught so many questionable things, that if we even try to question it we are ridiculed, hence the hate for feminism. Sexual /street harrasment has become so normalised it’s part of society and its a thing every woman should expect happen to them. However, this should not be the case. I should not have to suffer because I am a woman. I should not have to feel that I need to dress a certain way so I wouldn't get the ‘wrong attention’. Even when I proceed to do that, I still get harassed because I’m a woman. A young black woman in a white man’s world. Its certainly revolting realising that i have to go through these experiences over and over again because I’m a woman and if im being very honest, I may go demented if I continue to be on the recieving end on this animalistic behaviour.

I refuse to be on the receiving end. I refuse to carry on this heinous trend of teaching future generations to just deal with the misplaced anger they feel from these incidents. My anger is completely valid and I'm telling myself right now it was not my fault, it was the fault of the evil society I was born into. I refuse to continue to blame myself for things I did not do. I refuse to be a victim of my own excruciating thoughts letting my panic/anxiety attacks get in the way of living the best I could. I refuse to suffocate because that's what my body tells me to do in these traumatic situations. I want to be happy, what’s so wrong about that. Why has this world forced me into this deep end, just because I am a young, black Nigerian woman who looks and acts mature for my age. Don’t they realise children are growing up too fast because of how twisted society is. It’s not my fault at all and I will keep telling myself this.

Yet, even at this moment, my thoughts are juxtaposing themselves. I want to tell myself it's not my fault but part of me is reducing myself to rubbish saying I'm the one who caused this to happen. It's not my fault they all say but whose fault is it. I say it's society but saying that seems so ridiculous and unacceptable. I'm second-guessing myself, but confusion litters my mind. However, who am I supposed to blame for these thoughts that dwell in my mind? The fact that the first thing that comes to my mind after experiencing this is murder is very concerning. I could be the next serial killer on an evil vendetta in the future for all I know. However, I pray society does not let us fall down that wicked path. I pray society does not let me carry on suffering from these insane thoughts.

#feminist #feminism #harassment #essay writing #opinion #splurge #anger #important #mental health

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momett · 2 years

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i think i found one of the weirdest, funniest anime i've ever seen?

it's called "marin and yamato's strange sunday", it was an OVA from the year 2000 and on the surface it looks pretty normal. your average bright colored kids anime type deal.

well, apparently the message of this 17 minute OVA is, i shit you not, the importance of taxation.

the plot follows marin and yamato as they go to buy a game on their day off from school. marin ends up going because the guy she has a crush on works at said game store. to impress him, she deftly adds up the price of the game plus consumption tax, which leaves yamato with a bit of change left after purchase.

marin keeps a hold of the change despite yamato asking for it back, before she literally hits a telephone pole because she was swooning too hard, and the change falls into a drain.

instead of blaming herself, marin puts the blame on the consumption tax??? because, well, if the tax didn't exist she wouldn't have dropped the change, or something?

the pair then meet koppy and kuppy, two magical fairies awoken from a 25,000 year sleep, and offer the pair 3 wishes after being saved by them from a cat.

marin wishes for the change back, which they don't grant for being too mundane.

the pair then eventually settle on their first wish, the complete elimination of any and all taxes.

koppy and kuppy accept the wish then return the pair to the beginning of the plot, at home watching TV with their dad and grandmother.

what they watch on TV is scarily poingant to what a lot of americans already have to deal with on a daily basis. a family who just survived a housefire being forced to pay the agencies that helped them, because since taxes have been eliminated, the fire department had to privatize in order to stay in business, and they now take direct payment from the people who require their services.

but that's not all! since the city office is no longer getting funding, trash is being thrown into the streets, since nobody cleans it up, and random people are claiming ownership of, and requiring fees to cross the street.

and, i shit you not, a man refusing help after being hurt in a car accident because the ambulance would be too expensive.

it's played as a joke in this, with the man dramatically passing out and the woman crying "we used to help each other!" but, holy shit. this is from y2k BTW.

this post is getting long and boring, and i have to be doing other things but here i am writing a tumblr post about an anime that nobody remembers, so i will quickly wrap this up.

yamato finds koppy and kuppy, and wishes for taxes to come back. marin and yamato are back to their happy life, but something seems off to marin, on account of their mother not being at the hospital like she was the first two loops, helping the victims of the fire. she asks yamato about it, and finds out his final wish was that the house fire at the beginning of the 1st and 2nd loops never happened, so their mother was able to get sunday off to take them to the amusement park they wanted to go to.

jesus fucking christ, man. you can watch it subbed here, BTW.

#p #anime #ova #animecore #y2k #2000s anime #2000s ova #long post #genuinely tempted to make an animanga page on moonivew specifically so i can include this on it. good lord

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biglisbonnews · 1 year

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What You Missed Last Month in NYC (According to Linux) This is What You Missed Last Month (According To Linux), in which nightlife it-girl Linux takes us behind the velvet rope and into the VIP section of Scene-City. Through her extreme (sometimes exaggerated) lens, Linux gives us the tea on what really happened at every party-of-the-century that floods our Instagram feeds. (A note from the author: don’t take what she says too seriously — she’s just a club kid after all).How lavish a lifestyle would you lead if you were the most cunt socialite on earth? Did you know models off-duty only party in places photography is prohibited? The irony! Are you aware that the richest kids you follow are referencing the less fortunate when they’re snorting lines of mephedrone in abandoned Bushwick warehouses? The juxtaposition! In this world-exclusive edition of Lifestyles of the Bitch & Famous, we’ll explore the fabulous and private domains of New York’s exclusive scenesters.Keeping your diamond-studded finger on the city’s pulse is a lot like the crashing of a subway train: No matter how triggering it is, we just can’t look away. And to that I say: Don’t! I’m no Robin Leach; in fact, my enemies would claim “Leech” more fitting. My name is Linux, and I am the New York Downtown It-Girl. Each and every month I fill you, my loyal and wise-beyond-their-years readers, in on What You Missed in our vibrant city’s nightlife circuit. So drink up, besties, we’ve got a lot to get through. And yes, I’ll hold your hair if you’re feeling sick, but I only ask that you throw up inside the Uber Black... I just love watching the driver clean it up!March 16: Mock's Magazines See on Instagram So there I was, bored out of my mind on a Thursday in Manhattan. It was already halfway through the month and not a single stunt had been stunted! Can you imagine writing a column about how major NYC nightlife is and in two damn weeks no bangers had been banged? Thankfully, that was all about to change off the back of New York’s premiere partyboi, Evan Mock. HBO’s former pansexual-for-pay king invited all the model-slash-actors to downtown’s iconic Iconic Magazines to ring in his newest gig with canned cocktail brand JuneShine. Nothing is funnier to me than a celebrity throwing a party to celebrate them receiving a fat paycheck. As a capitalist, I’ll drink to someone rich getting richer any day! Hours prior to the event, the gang transformed Mulberry Street’s last standing bodega into a Mock-Centric nightclub with a disco ball and DJ booth to match. By 7 PM, people I did not know but did recognize began filling up the space as DJs Juju & Booker took control of the music. (Are they a duo or two entities? The world will never know!) By the end of the night, I was sitting on the curb outside, drinking a JuneShine with a random girl waiting for her Uber to take us all to her apartment for afters. All roads in New York somehow lead to being cracked out in a car crossing the bridge at 7 AM!March 21: H&M Isla Hennes See on Instagram If there’s one thing about me... I love an H&M party. And no, that’s not me kissing ass to get into their Mugler collab next month... *wink*! Part Spring 2023 presentation, part dinner party, the Swedish fashion brand sent cutesie little invites to all our agents to stop by their Williamsburg boutique and experience their latest “Isla Hennes” collection. The whole vibe was Mediterranean Vacation, very White Lotus season two tease. This was much-needed schooling on what to wear to such a trip for me, as for the last one I took to the Mediterranean my only fashion reference was Snooki when the Jersey Shore cast went to Italy. Upon entering I was immediately greeted with a mezcal on the rocks (my fav!) and shown the newest H&M looks that’ll be hitting the stores this season. After taking out my daddy’s credit card and buying the entire line, I was ushered to the dining room with all the other cool people for a multi-course dinner by renowned chef Camille Becerra. Other notable attendees included superstar Richie Shazam and celebrity stylist Beverly Nguyen. On my way out, a tarot card reader told me a life of fame and excess was on the way for me... I slipped her a twenty. I love you H&M, but next time let’s go to the real Mediterranean! Until then, Williamsburg will have to do. Now about that Mugler invite...March 24: HOE Five-Year Anniversary See on Instagram When I first moved to NYC, there was only one cool party in the city where the DJs played pop music. The name was Heaven on Earth, a monthly by Ty Sunderland thrown at downtown’s China Chalet. The spot was a Chinese restaurant by day that Sunderland turned into a pop rave by night. Sunderland would bring in two stripper poles for the crowd to dance on, and, when pop hits like “Bad Romance” played, the gays jumped so hard in unison you could feel the entire building shake. (I’m still shocked the floor never caved in!) When you were exhausted from dancing you could smoke a cigarette inside over by the bar. Unfortunately, like all good venues in New York, China Chalet closed its doors for good during the pandemic. Five years later, Sunderland took a chance and brought Heaven on Earth back for one night only at Brooklyn’s Sugar Hill Restaurant and Supper Club. To put it lightly: the night was a complete success! There’s just something about turning a restaurant into a rave that makes these kids go crazy! Gays, dolls and celebs filled out the multi-room supper club and raged to pop hits until the early morning. Ty brought in the same stripper poles from the China Chalet days, where nobodies felt like somebodies, dancing like J.Lo in Hustlers in the thick fog. In a side room, fashion gays gabbed and talked shit with stars like Adam Lambert and Christian Siriano. I know I speak for the whole scene when I say: please Ty, bring Heaven on Earth back full time and make her permanent home Sugar Hill!March 29: Sulwhasoo at the Metropolitan Museum of Art See on Instagram They say having an unexplainable feeling of being famous is an early sign of schizophrenia. If that’s the case, run me my diagnosis, baby, because tonight I feel like a star! At the last moment of March, Korean skincare brand Sulwhasoo spent the dollars to celebrate their newest partnership with the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rules of New York society: when you’re invited to wear a gown to the Met... you wear a gown to the Met. The evening began with a cunty step-and-repeat on the iconic Met steps. My turn for photos was after Rosé from Blackpink and before Charli XCX. Post-red carpet and on the way to the bar, the three of us talked about how excited we are for the upcoming Coachella season (which I am also covering right here for PAPER... stay tuned!). After picking up our cocktails, we spoke about how much we miss carbs before the three of us posed for even more pictures that the BFA guy chose to not tag me in. (You’ll regret this, Mr. BFA!) I later shared a bathroom lip-gloss moment with Song Jia and Duckie Thot. Bored of the girls' bathroom, I took a chance at the men’s, where I ran into friends Diego Villarreal and jewelry designer Austin Smith. The three of us also shared a lip-gloss moment. The thick of the party took place in the Met’s Temple of Dendur. I’ve lived through many major nights, but there’s absolutely nothing more iconic than drinking with a bunch of A-Listers around millions of dollars' worth of ancient Egyptian artifacts! Of course, the night wouldn’t have been complete without a giant goodie bag of Sulwhasoo skincare. If you notice me getting hotter in the next few weeks... it’s not Sulwhasoo, it’s the baby blood we all drank at the Illuminati meeting afterward! Related | A Night at the Museum With Sulwhasoo and RoséPhotography, styling and hair: Airik Prince Art direction: Chris Correa https://www.papermag.com/linux-what-you-missed-march23-2659738024.html

#What you missed last month #Linux #Nyc nightlife #Sulwhasoo #Ty sunderland #Evan mock #PAPER

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