#I miss the cool carnival clown you could play as.......

[dreamstatez]

JEALOUSY + FERRIS WHEEL RIDE !?

Stu Macher X Reader

summery: stu gets a little jealous when you always hang out with friends instead of him. after a heated argument concerning him and your friends you both promise to make plans for the two of you tomorrow.

warning !!: small angst & cussing

word count: 715

I just wanna say please be nice to me as this is like my first time writing in a while 😭. Please tell me what you think I could do better.

𝗝𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗬 𝗝𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗬 ♪

“All your friends are so cool, you go out every night. In your daddy's nice car, yeah, you're living the life.”

Jealousy - Olivia Rodrigo

It was 1:30pm. You invited Stu to spend time with you and your friends at a carnival because he kept complaining about how you never invited him to anything. But, unfortunately Stu wasn't following you or your friends. He seemed to follow way behind the rest of you and didn't play any games. He didn't seem like himself. But he seemed fine every time you'd ask if he was okay. It took you a while to realize his behavior was off. You and your friends were playing clown water balloon blast and you (literally amazing at everything) won a prize! It was a large pastel blue elegant. Perfect for Stu. Maybe this might make him feel better?

But all of the sudden Stu wasn't anywhere to be seen. You started searching for him and asking your friends if they had seen him. You searched every ride and game. He wasn't even on the benches. Until you saw a beige sweater moving through the crowd towards the main entrance. It was Stu! You immediately ran through, occasionally bumping into people. You finally reached him and got in front of him.

Y/N: “Stu! Where were you!? Why would you leave like that? I've been looking everywhere for you.” Stu scoffed and a sarcastic smile tugged at his lips

Stu: “Don't act like you missed me.” You looked at Stu and crossed your arms.

Y/N: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?”

Stu: “Why would you!? You're always doing shit with your dumb ass friends.”

Y/N: “You could've asked for me to hang out with you more!”

Stu: “Y/N, I have. And you don't seem half as excited when you're with me! Y'know something? I am sick and tired of those little fucking friends of yours.”

Y/N: “Well I'm sorry I'm having fun!”

Stu: “And you can't have fun with me!?” there was cold silence and tension was slowly dying down.

Y/N: “Look, Stu..how about we make some plans to hang out more or something-”

Stu: “More? There shouldn't be a ‘more’. I'm your boyfriend. You should make time for me.”

Y/N: “Well I'm trying to negotiate with you right now, Stu.”

Stu: “Are the plans gonna be actually fun? Wouldn't want you running to your cunt faced friends again.”

Y/N: “Don't call them that! Stu, would you please just listen!?” Stu crossed his arms and waited for you to say something. He looked annoyed and impatient.

Y/N: “What if..to make up for it...we can hang out at the carnival by ourselves? No friends tagging along, just me and you.” Stu stood there and thought about it.

Stu: “If we do...we have to make plans to hangout tomorrow. No backing out either.” you sighed and hugged him. Resting your head on his chest.

Y/N: “Okay...”

Stu: “Promise?” he hugged you back tightly, after kissing your head through your hair.

Y/N: “I promise.” Stu and you walked hand in hand as you walked towards the ferris wheel. “Oh I almost forgot..” You handed him the pastel blue elephant. “For you.”

Stu: He jokingly gasps and places a hand in front of his mouth “For me!?” you nod and hand it over. He jokingly squeals and takes it from you. “Thank you, he's so adorable!” he smiled.

Y/N: “You're welcome.” you held back laughter. It was nice to see Stu back to his normal self. He was always so cute when he was happier. You and Stu continued to play games, buy cotton candy, ride the ferris wheel and take pictures in the photo booth. The night couldn't have gotten better. Soon it was time to go home and stop by Stu's place to drop him off.

Stu: “Remember our deal, baby.” He got out of the car and went to your side of the car to talk to you through the rolled down window.

Y/N: “ I remember! Go inside!”

Stu: “I love you.” He kissed you. Before finally going inside the house. He waved a dramatic goodbye and blew kisses, causing you to giggle. You eventually drove back home. Getting undressed into pj's, and thinking about all the things you could do with Stu. As you laid down to rest, Stu had managed to enter your dreams. Allowing you to explore sweet fantasies of your future plans.

[slaapkat]

good god do I suddenly severely and desperately miss the multiplayer from ac brotherhood and revelations

[transgenderknothead]

I know I've been gone for like ever, but I was working on something super cool, so without further adieu... I Want the Truth a creepy pasta fanfiction just under 2k words!

Truth is undefinable, yes it has a definition, not lying, but how do you determine what’s a lie and what isn’t? It’s difficult, especially when you get different answers from the same person. My mother always tells me I have no memory due to various different accidents. First she said car crash, then she said nearly drowned, then it was kidnapped, her current story is that I had been in a coma for most of my life due to a birth defect. When I ask why her story keeps changing she says she isn’t quite sure what is causing my memory loss, as all of those things happened. My friends and I were hanging out at the old children’s mental hospital, it had burned down about four years ago and ever since my friends and I would go and try to figure out why and how it had burned. So far we had found nothing, nothing that was in one piece anyway, we had found three shattered skull fragments and a lot of broken wood. We’d searched all over the building, except for one room, which we could never open. It was a metal door, that when we tried using axes, hatchets, and even random pieces of wood nearby, they fell apart before even reaching it. We have no idea what’s on the other side, but it feels important, and because my friends are stubborn, we will never stop trying to open it or get inside. “Again!” Toby, my boyfriend, yelled when the head of his metal axe fell off when it made contact with the door. “At least this time we hit it,” I rubbed his shoulder as he slumped, “and it looks like you even dented it.” “If his noodle arms dented it, imagine what I could’ve done,” his athletic twin brother, Evan, flexed. “I don’t know, why don’t ya punch it, see what happens,” Toby argued. “Would you two knock it off,” their 14 year old little sister Jessy rolled her eyes, “what did Mom and Dad say about you arguing all the time?” Toby rolled his eyes, a tiny smile appearing when we made eye contact. “We should head back,” I piped up a little. Back at the house Toby and I went into his room, separated from his twin by a curtain, the tall boy flopping onto his bed. “Are you okay?” I rubbed his back. “Something about that room just,” he rolled over, pulling me with him, “I don’t know, it makes no sense.” “What is it?” “It gives me a weird gut feeling,” he scratched my back lightly, “like something bad is behind it.” I had woken up in the middle of the night, bolting up in bed next to Toby. It was always the same nightmare. I’m sitting in a pitch black room, a fuzzy figure of a purple, pink, blue, and yellow jester with a hammer sitting in front of me. It seemed like it was trying to communicate with me, but I couldn’t hear, or even see, much of it. The next morning we all headed over to the mental hospital again. Toby, having hurt his hand playing guitar last night, was going to let me try opening the door with his brand new axe. So here we stood, axe held over my head, everyone else standing back. When I swung the door flew open and the axe hit the floor instead. “Um, to whichever deity is out there, please help,” Jessy whimpered. I walked in, it looked as though this room had the worst of it. An entire wall caved in, shattered glass everywhere, all of the furniture destroyed. The walls that were left standing had what was very obviously scratch marks from whatever child was in here. “Holy,” I whispered, spinning around to look at the room. I kept looking around until I saw the bed in the corner, it was rusted and broken to no end, but that isn’t what caught my attention. It was the seemingly untouched blue bunny stuffed animal holding a very broken, but unburned, Jack-in-the-Box. I reached for it instinctively, but Toby grabbed my wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered. “I just want to know,” I grabbed the toys, inspecting them, before dropping them and gasping. I slowly picked them back up, and cradled the bunny, who was now missing an eye. “What is it?” Evan stood in the doorway, very obviously too scared to enter the room fully. “My name,” I whispered, just loud enough

to hear, “it’s on both of these.” I twisted the toys to show the red stitched name on the bunny and the carved name on the box. “Oh god,” Jessy whispered. I clutched the toys to my chest and started running back. “WAIT!” Toby called. “I have to know, I need to know the truth about my memory, and the truth about these!” I yelled when he caught up to me, he let go and let me run. “Whoa, slow down kid, where’s the fire,” my mom jokes. “What’s this,” I held up the toys and her face went pale, “don’t even think about lying, I want the truth this time.” “They were a couple of toys your childhood friend’s gave you before they left,” she replied. “Okay, new question,” I stood up straighter, “why were they in the mental hospital?” She gasped and dropped her tea cup. She smiled, looking at me, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Mom, why can’t I remember anything? Don’t give me a story like you do every time.” “You still believed in imaginary friends,” she cried, “you were twelve, that’s not normal for a 12 year old kid! I had to do something to make you realize they were fake!” “So putting me in a hospital and drugging me into forgetting was your grand solution?” I yelled. “You don’t understand,” she started. “You’re right, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is that I’m not the type of person to believe something I haven’t seen, or hasn’t been proved to me,” I crossed my arms, knowing what I had to do. “Don’t do anything stupid,” my boyfriend spoke when they finally caught up. “I have to know,” I spoke before turning around, taking the toys with me, and running into the woods. I ran for a long time, a couple of memories coming back to me. Playing with a tall stuffed clown, a tall red headed man with long hair and wearing a feathery jacket handing me the blue bunny, setting the fire in the hospital. Eventually, I ran up to a familiar metal gate that led to a run down carnival. I opened the gate and it creaked. My heart was pounding in my chest as I clutched the bunny tighter to my chest, the Jack-in-the-Box in my hoodie pocket. I heard a twig snap by the merry go round, causing me to run into the hall of mirrors. I fell against a wall trying to stop myself from crying. “Oh Gumdrop,” a singsong voice came from the entrance. I hid farther into the dark corner, “you don’t need to hide, we’re friends!” I watched the black and white clown look around the room, his hands on his hips. His eyes meet mine, he smiles wider and gets closer. “Jack!” A voice laughed from behind him, the jester from my dreams stepped forward. “It’s her!” Jack pointed, and the jester looked my way. “I’ve been tryna reach ya,” he pulled me out of the dark, “but ya never heard me!” “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, his grip wasn’t tight, but I could tell neither of them were human. “Don’t be sorry! It aint your fault!” The jester giggled, pulling me out of the hall of mirrors and into the big tent, where three more inhuman entities were talking and working. One was a shorter man with black hair, a sketch pad, blue jacket, and a white mask with a red smile sitting next to him. Next to him was a more average height man with dark grey skiing, all black clothes, golden eyes, and what looked like a puppet hanging from golden strands of light coming from his fingers. Across from him was a very tall white haired man dressed like a magician and holding a wand. “There you are,” the man with the sketch book said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back,” the grey man next to him continued. “She doesn’t remember us,” the magician looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Don’t apologize!” The jester rolled his eyes, “we’ll just reintroduce you!” “I’m Laughing Jack!” Jack spoke, “you used to call me L.J. for short!” “This is Puppeteer, who you called Pup,” the man with the sketchbook pointed at the man with the puppet. “This is Helen,” Puppeteer smiled, pointing at the one with the sketchbook. “I’m Papa El De Grande,”

the magician spoke, “you always called me Mr. Magic.” “I’m Candy Pop!” the jester tickled my sides, “you called me Pop.” “Where’s Jason?” L.J. looked around. “His workshop, fixing Mr. Bun Bun,” Puppeteer said, “it’d be best if she went alone.” Puppeteer took me over to a red and white tent near the big one. He told me to just go in, and that he’s never been mad when I was around because he never wanted to scare me away. “Jason?” I poked my head in, and was greeted by a big stuffed purple worm covered in patches. “Glutton!” A voice yelled from farther into the tent, “get over here!” I followed as the worm snaked towards a redhead man with golden eyes, putting an eye on the rabbit that I had come here with. “Jason?” He looked up at the calling of his name, smiling gently when he saw it was me. “It’s been a long time, Dolly,” he handed me the bunny, standing up he towered over me, “come on, let’s go for a walk.” During the walk he answered all of my questions that my mother refused to answer. He caught me up on all of the missing details of the past. And eventually led me back to the front gate. “It’s nearly time for you to get home,” pat my head. “Remember to just wind up the jack in the box when you want to see me!” Jack waved. “I’ll visit ya in your dreams again tonight, maybe now you’ll be able to hear me!” Candy Pop laughed. “Come back tomorrow,” Helen waved from his seat on the stairs of the merry-go-round. “Oh my god,” a voice came from behind me, my mother had her hand over her mouth as she glanced over the people I had spent my childhood with. “I was right, Mom,” I whispered. “Jason?” She whispered the name of the man who was trying to get away. “Yes?” He turned around slowly to look at my mother. “Oh my god,” she whispered, “Jason Meyers.” I looked at my mother at the use of our last name. Jason lowered his head. “Mom?” “You have been spending time with the spirit of your father, and I took that away,” her hand went over her heart, “oh, I am so sorry dear.” “Wait, Mom I didn’t even know,” I stuttered. “I needed to protect you from the things you weren’t ready to know,” he ushered us out, “now come back tomorrow, it’s getting late.” “We have to take your boyfriend to meet them tomorrow,” my mother spoke, causing Jason to look up, his eyes suddenly glowing green and his hair slowly turning white. “Okay,” Jack clapped his hands, his smile gone, “I think it’s time for bed.”

[adultswim2021]

Ephemera Week (2002)

It’s still ephemera week, and we’re still talking about John K. I said most of my piece on him in the last post, so don’t expect there to go full bore on this one, except I forgot to say he’s animation’s Jerry Lewis. His current stuff is basically Hardly Working. I will not elaborate, because I’m being mean to you0.

MARCH SPECIALS!

In March, Adult Swim advertised a run of one-off specials. A couple of them were already covered because they fell under the parameters of “Adult Swim original production”. They were Welcome to Eltingville (March 3rd) and Saddle Rash (March 24th).

Day in the Life of Ranger Smith | March 10th 2002 - 11:00 PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)

This was one of two specials commissioned by Cartoon Network re-imagining Yogi Bear. The artist what took this assignment was John K, who I REEEAALLY skewered in last night’s post, didn’t I?

This is about Ranger Smith harassing animals and writing them up for violating park rules, basically. It’s short! I remember liking it at the time! Okay, maybe I’m going crazy here, but I distinctly remembered a part at the end where Ranger Smith is in bed and he solemnly confides in the viewer that the noises of wilderness give him nightmares and then it just ends. Did I imagine this? It does end with him in bed, but this doesn’t happen in the version on YouTube (which is from the Adult Swim airing). Huh.

Boo Boo Runs Wild | March 10th 2002 - 11:15PM (Originally aired on Cartoon Network in 1999)

Boo Boo Runs Wild was another one of these stand-alone Yogi Bear John K specials. This one was 30 minutes long. The Ranger Smith short was a brief 7 minutes; I’m guessing they aired a couple Capt. Lingers or something to fill time.

This one is about Boo Boo reverting to his feral nature and causing BIIIIG problems! This special would later go on to be kind of a weird trolling thing Adult Swim would do where they aired it every Sunday for a few months, even promoting regularly. This was like 2006, I think? They’d also air it as part of April Fools. Is that Adult Swim admitting this special sorta sucks? Does it sorta suck? Again, I liked these at the time and REFUSED to actively rewatch these for this write-up. Sorry.

The Jetsons: Father and Son Day/The Best Son | March 10th, 2002 11:45PM (Originally aired on CartoonNetwork.com in 2001) Our John K rock block ends with a pair of Jetsons shorts, Father and Son Day and The Best Son respectively. This is kinda the same deal as his Yogi Bear shorts, but these were exclusive for Cartoon Network’s website. I remember watching them on there. They are as bad as you’d expect late-period John K internet shorts to be, though the second short is a superior version of Spielberg’s A.I. (in that it’s shorter).

Night of the Living Doo | March 17th, 2002 - 11:00PM (originally aired on Cartoon Network, 2001)

Night of the Living Doo originally aired as wraparound segments during a Halloween Scooby Doo marathon on Cartoon Network. It’s kinda like an episode of the Scooby Doo Movies, which shoehorned in a guest star each episode. Suddenly my man Dick Van Dyke be running a carnival and shit. That’s the Scooby Doo Movies. At the end of the night they played all the wraparound segments in one uninterrupted sitting, so the viewer could appreciate it as an actual full-on Scooby Doo episode. Night of the Living Doo functioned both as an extension of that series as well as a parody. The guests were Gary Coleman, David Cross, and the very cool band Big Bad Voodoo Daddy. It was all very self-deprecating and had jokes about the absurdity of Scooby Doo tropes. Well trod territory by this point, sure. But this is better than most irreverent Scooby Doo things. It didn’t hurt that I was a HUGE David Cross fan when this aired. Is this where I tell the stupid-ass story about getting mad at a message board guy for not liking David Cross? Sure. Okay, yeah. When this aired on Adult Swim a guy on Kon’s (hi Kon) message board posted something about not finding David Cross funny, shrugging that he didn’t get the hype. He cited this and his appearances in the Men in Black movies, and nothing else as proof for his lackluster comedy skills. It’s kinda like deeming Eddie Murphy as a bad comedian after watching Dr. Doolittle.

The point of this special is that David Cross is a little wooden and stilted, like in the old Scooby Doo Movies episodes. This poster revealed that he never heard David Cross’s stand-up or seen Mr. Show, explaining “I don’t watch puppet shows” A response that still baffles me to this day. Why Mr. Show isn’t a-- WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT? I’m not even sure if there was EVER a puppet on Mr. Show*. David wasn’t even a guest on Crank Yankers at this point! SO WHAT THE FUCK? To this day whenever mutual pals from that board get together and watch a movie or show and a puppet appears we make a joke about this guy. Good story? No? Fuck you.

Other stuff about this show: When it originally aired on Cartoon Network it was a little bit longer than the Adult Swim version. There’s a missing scene. I think it’s David trying to play an improv game with a mummy or something. At one point I had it on tape, but I’m not sure I kept it. Sorry.

*sorry to be coy here, but I do know of at least one puppet on Mr. Show, episode 204 there is brief footage of Grass Valley Greg putting on a puppet show for his staff. This CAN’T be the source of the confusion, can it? It’s literally like, 5 seconds.

MAIL BAG

This’ll teach me to skip a day cuz this really piled up. Thanks, guys. I love all the attention. It is my favorite thing.

I never really saw oblongs as something for the hot topic set. They had Invader Zim and Squee for that kind of shit. Oblongs feel like it was always directly targeting me: the shut-in comedy nerd who would appreciate will ferrell and the sklars being in a thing. Since they ended up doing the exact same show with Janeane Garofalo and David Cross a few years later it seems like that was the goal.

Yeah, I guess that also makes sense. There were a few elements that were kinda gothy but this show was mostly just Angus Oblong ahem, clowning around (puckering mouth to stifle laughter like Chris Elliott in Cabin Boy)

What are your thoughts on the other adult animation blocks of the past couple decades? Spike's notriously failed attempt. Animation Domination. Apparently Syfy has had their own going?

Spike was irredeemably bad. People think this shit is easy. Animation Domination is sorta legit, but it’s anchored by mostly crap. That ADHD thing was kinda good and underrated. Is that still going on? I wish I were more diligent about watching/recording that. Some of them bumpers were good. Also, we mustn’t forget MTV’s oddities. They were kinda the first cable network to court Adult Animation as their thing. They deserve some kind of credit for that. I’m sure they’re doing fine.

I'm having a nice big thing of spaghetti for dinner with some chicken parm? Jealous?

I’ve never had those are they good

What does Ephemera mean? Why is this happenening? Why aren't you talking about 10 Home Movies episodes in a row like a good boy.

In dude time, my friend. In dude time

What would be your Adult Swim dream come true?

Having a complete archive of Adult Swim blocks on a harddrive like Don Giller has with his Letterman archive. Even the commercials and shit. I know of a guy who was a regular taper of the entire block from night 1 but I’m not sure he kept up with it when they went nightly. I should ask him if he still has his tapes, huh?

That or they bring back the BUILD YOUR OWN DVD thing but with blu-rays and you can make your own bumps, which was a different thing they had. THEY SHOULD COMBINE THEM. And you can master it in SD if you wanna put 10 hours of stuff on a disk.

All this is archival bullshit dork shit. Real answer: Clay Croker comes back from the dead and every block is hosted by Space Ghost. That’d be it, right?

If anyone has genuine/better answers please write in with them I wanna keep this conversation going. ‘kay?

McDonalds reintroduces limited edition Adult Swim Toys. You can get them all (plus an extra to keep wrapped for collectors purposes) but you have to spend 20 dollars at McDonalds to grab them all. This is the last day of the promotion. You have to personally eat everything you buy but you can take it home. You can only buy one of each food item. What are you getting? I know the longer the mailbag message is the quicker you are inclined to give some glib remark but indulge this one for once.

Oh wow. I’m literally going to take this seriously. I’d roll in as breakfast was ending. Get myself a McChicken Biscuit and a Bacon Egg & Cheese McGriddle, hashbrowns and a Coffee. Gobble that knob on down. Wipe my mouth with a napkin. It’s lunchtime, bitch. Big Mac, Large Fries, BIG ass soda. You feel me, dude? Lemme tally up. Okay, probably need more. 20 piece nugget. Take that home cuz I’m probably gonna have to save some for dinner. That’s probably 20 bucks right there, especially if you go to the McDonalds on Burnside where all the menu items are more expensive because of the amount of security they have to hire (did you know that different McDonalds have different prices even in the same city? I didn’t until very recently). If this somehow doesn’t satisfy my price point I get a Vanilla shake and eat it anally DURING my BIG D squirt sesh, so it’ll spend as little time in my body as possible. Wait, do I get something for this? I might do this tomorrow just cuz. It sounds like a funky thing to do

Do you think you'll open an Adult Swim mueseum at some point? You seem to be the only steward of its history.

Unless I’m hired to by a large corporation, probably not. Also I don’t think I actually have much in the way of merch other than DVDs. I stopped being a DVD completist at some point around Freaknick The Musical. Oh, I never EVER bought a Robot Chicken DVD, EVER. I literally had a nightmare once that one appeared in my collection.

Hey! Please keep us abreast any time you put more of your garbage on eBay. Maybe you can put your wedding dress on there, you big girl.

Fucking sexist/trasphobic behavior.

Check out my eBay auctions I got season 18 of NCIS up there and some other things :)

The Ripping Friends blow chunks. I don't care if a rapist or the opposite of a rapist (a virgin who volunteers, lol) made it. It sucks a high hard one like when Ozzy banged the Cheiftan's Wife in that Black Sabbath TV Funhouse cartoon. Tell me more.

Tell you more?

Name one rap song you tolerate lol. You can't say anything by weird al or marky mark.

I guess I like the song the pest sings from the motion picture The Pest

Are there any good podcasts on adult swim?

The official one hosted by Matt Harrigan is good, but I’ve only bounced around on it. I don’t know if there’s any formal recap ones. I simply don’t know!

HE'S GIVING HIGH HARD ONE TO CHEIFTAN'S WIFE? UH OH!

Buddy, you are BANNED for LIFE from my MAIL BAG! You drive me CRAZY!

[mhdiaries]

Wave 4 Journal of Jackson Jekyll

On September 9...

So it turns out I’m a monster. Well part-time monster actually, which leaves me pretty much full-time confused. It’s not like I didn’t know that mom and dad were both monsters. The first time I saw mom’s Hyde side come out was when I was 5 and we were visiting my dad’s side of the family. Some of the little neighborhood monsters decided that they were going to play “kick the can” only they were going to use me as the can. Every time I tried to run home they blocked my way and pushed me down. I started crying and then they really started making fun of me. Then all of a sudden I heard this roar and there was my mom. Even though it didn’t look like her I knew it was and honestly all I could think was, “Why mother, what big muscles you have.” Needless to say I never had any problem with the local monsters again. Dad’s a fire elemental of course and I grew up playing with Heath so I was never afraid of monsters. I just didn’t think any monster heritage had passed on to me. When I asked mom and dad if they knew me and Holt were the same person they said, “Of course we knew you and Holt were the same person - we’re your parents; now finish your breakfast or you’ll be late for school.” Well thanks for clearing that up for me mom and dad. Cause you know it’s not like having that little bit of information would have been helpful at all. Good thing I’m past those awkward teenage years where news like this could really have a negative impact on my psyche. (Ooh - sarcasm. I like it) HH

On September 12...

I had to go to the mad scientist, I mean mad pediatrician, today. Mom says that until I’m an adult I need to continue seeing him because he has the most experience dealing with growing monsters. I feel fine but mom and dad are worried because what triggers my transformation to Holt has changed. It used to happen when the sun went down but now it seems to be loud music, I think. The waiting room was almost empty except for a mother werewolf and two young cubs. While mom filled out paperwork I sat down and tried to find something to read that wasn’t chewed, gooed or covered in monster germs. Then I heard one of the werewolf cubs say, “Mommy! Is that a normie?” “Yes honey, don’t stare.” “Is he going to eat us?” I could tell that she was embarrassed so I said, “No way - I’m totally allergic to werewolf it makes me sneeze - ACHOO!” The cubs eyes got really wide and then she started laughing, “Aw that’s not true.” Then she held up her foot and said, “I can tie my shoe!” I said, “That’s amazing, can you show me how?” The werewolf mom relaxed too and it turns out she’s related to Clawd’s family. Pretty soon a lab assistant appeared, “Jackson Jekyll?” She led us back to a room and said, “The doctor will be with you shortly.” Then, “The wait.” Which means sitting on the crinkly paper covered exam table forever and wondering what would happen if I started playing with the instruments in the exam room and the doctor walked in. Anyway just about the time I woke up enough boredom and courage to start picking up some of the cooler looking instruments laying on the counter I hear the mad pediatrician pulling my chart and the door opens. He’s wearing a lab coat with purple vampire ducks and his stethoscope cover is a fuzzy yellow dragonhead. I’m sure it calms the younger monsters but it scares the normie out of me that the volatile nature of my elemental side + my hyde heritage + being a teenager = constant change. He said that the trigger would probably change again before I reach adulthood. Then he gave me a lollypop, scheduled me for another test and said he wanted to see me again in three months. Now I’m worried about what the trigger is going to change to next. What if it’s showers? Would it be worth giving them up for the rest of high school just so I can have my own life? (Not unless you want your new nickname to be “Stinky”) HH 

On September 21... 

It seems like I spent the first part of my life wishing I was a monster and now that I am maybe now I wish I wasn’t. (Well you’re stuck with it now.) HH When I was spending all that time trying to get Draculaura to bit me so I could become a vampire I never really thought about anything except wanting to fit in with all the other monsters. Now the part of me that fits in doesn’t even get to enjoy it.(Whine much?) HH It’s like the worst of both worlds and now I don’t fit in anywhere at all. We’re all supposed to meet with Mr. D’eath, the school guidance counselor, this week. Wonder if I’ll need to make two appointments (Lame - I already know what I’m going to be... FAMOUS!) HH

On September 23...

So I had my appointment with Mr. D’eath today it started out  about as terrible as I thought it was going to be. Turns out he’d never counseled a “normie” and it seemed like he didn’t know exactly what to say. In fact, he mostly just spent a lot of time squeezing one of those stress balls made to look like a cartoon character with eyes that bugged out when you squeezed it. It was pretty distracting especially when I realized it was a cartoon “normie”. The squeezing wasn’t nearly as distracting as his “throat clearing” which kind of sounded like a hand full of marbles being run through a garbage disposal. I kept trying to figure out how he made that noise because he doesn’t really even have a throat since as far as I can tell he’s pure skeleton. He must have flipped through my permanent record ten times before he finally said: So you see Hackson... I mean Jackson, the career opportunities for normies in the monster world are somewhat er... um... (sound of marbles being run through the disposal again) limited. There’s monster hunter, monster hunter’s assistant, mad scientist, ooh hunchback! You don’t happen to have a hump do you? No? Bad luck there then. Ah hah! How about Monster/Normie Relations Expert? (Figured it’d be something where the wardrobe is even less cool than what you wear now) HH Well that was something I certainly knew a little something about. I had an old coach in the normie world that used to always say, “Play to your strengths Jackson, play to your strengths.” So Mr. D’eath loaded me down with college brochures and rushed me out of his office. I think both of us were glad it was over. 

On October 8...

Finally took that test my mad pediatrician set up for me. It turned out to be a test to determine the type and volume of music that brings out Holt. So I sat in a soundproof booth wearing headphones while a technician played music at different volumes and with different time signatures. I made it through waltzes, marches, polka and chamber music but I don’t remember what he played next. (That’s when he started playing the good stuff.) HH Anyway the results of the test isolated the trigger; music with a 4/4 time signature played in excess of 90 decibels. You know what’s good about this? Me neither.

On November 2...

It seems now that every monster knows Holt and me are the “same” person/monster I don’t get hassled as much for being a “normie”. Not that it makes any difference to Manny Taur since he pretty much wants to bully down on any creature who’s smaller than he is. When he first started picking on me I stood up to him cause once a bully knows he can push you around he’ll never stop, but Deuce finally took me aside and said, “Listen bro - you’ve won a lot of respect standing up to Manny and don’t take this the wrong way but...” Apparently Manny was waiting for the right time to mash me like a slow matador. I kept waiting for it to happen but it never did. In fact it seemed like Manny was purposely avoiding me for some reason. It was almost like some monster had said something to him. (Yeah - wonder who that could have been?) HH

On November 15... 

Headless Headmistress Bloodgood asked for “volunteers” to help with the middle school carnival fundraiser so Deuce and I volunteered for set up and take down duty. It was cool and we didn’t have to dress up like clowns or sit in the dunk tank. We set up tents, carried boxes then hung out and waited for everything to be over. We checked out some of the other booths too cause we had plenty of time to kill. Venus and Draculaura were doing face painting; Rochelle was teaching monsters how to build sand castles, some of which would have looked pretty good if they hadn’t been built next to Rochelle’s sand cathedra with working bell tower and miniature gargoyles. The best though was the stunt Robecca performed. She flew over the carnival a couple of times to get every monster’s attention then flew straight up until it sounded like her rocket boots stalled and she came streaking back toward the ground like a falling star. A huge gasp went up from the crowd as it looked like she was going to crash then she fired her rockets back up and totally buzzed the crowd less than 20 feet off the ground! It was so awesome I actually gave Holt a chance to see her second performance. (Thanks dude - it was totally rockin’ and I would have been bummed if I didn’t get to see it) HH When the carnival was over we helped take everything down and all the volunteers went to hang out at the Coffin Bean. It was dark by then and I would have missed out on that part of the fun if things were the same as they used to be. Still hoping I won’t have to give up showers someday though. (That makes both of us “Stinky”) HH

[arthurflecksgirl]

Last day at HaHas/ Arthurs POV

The pocket mirror is reflecting my face. Did it change in the slightest? Is it stil the same face it always was without the make up? Or is there somethig different to it now? Is there a glimpse that shows off the changes on the inside? Can they tell? Does anyone know anything? Or is it still the face of the invisible man? Still just one face in the crowd. And not even that anymore when standing alone. Faceless. A faceless existence of an invisible man.  Maybe thats why I love wearing make up. To make me face visible to others. And show them what they want to see. A smile.

I`m not smiling, my face is resting in a state of being in deep thoughts. I always am. In deep thoughts I mean. Deep  is an understatement really. They are making their way into the very core. My thoughts are the very core of my so called existence. Is it even called existence? Because no one ever told me that, No one ever came up to me saying "hey Arthur, I`m glad that you exist!" No one ever told me "Fuck. I just hate that you exist." eighter. So if no one loves and no one hates you, you are just..... a thought inside of your own head. You don`t exist outside yourself.

The mirror may show my face but it doesnt proof anything. So I am not even looking. My eyes are focused on the inside of my locker and what will go into the trash or into my brown paper bag next.  First the mirror. The last thing its surface wittnessed was my face being unable to even look into it. I`m too afaraid of what I might see. Or what I dont see anymore. I`m not sure which fear is worse.

An empty make up pallette, a sponge, a set of cards, my hopes and dreams.

My ex workmates discuss over the news. If that man that killed the three guys on the subway was eighter wearing full make up or a mask. What difference doesn it make? Make up is just another version of a mask.

I`m alone. Standing in the coner of the changing room, and I know. I have all the answers to their questions and for a second I just wish they would know that this guy they talk about is right among them. That mysterious guy that is "Good for bussiness because they got clowns on the front of every newspaper ." Glad I could help with your fucking business, even now after I got fired. Maybe that was the best I`ve ever done for this place. That thing I didnt even intented to do. But I did and now you can all go on and discuss every single detail without knowing anything because you are being as blind and ignorant and stupid as usual.

But guess what? My eyes just started to open now. If I can defend myself by shooting these assholes on the subway, yo can`t bully me here at HaHas anymore. Especially not on my last day. Now that I empty this locker.

My locker. Yeah I can`t deny I am a little bit emotional over that. But not because of this building or this room or anyone here. Okay there is Gary. He`s a kind soul but ..... This room.....nothing but bad memories of me sitting in the corner, not being talked to, me sitting on that bank, staring outside the window until I lose all sense of time, waiting for a beam of sunlight coming through, me doing my make up day after day after day and they keep chattering but they don`t say anything. Nothing that has meaning. And I´m painting on that smile, trying to find something meaningful, something real. A moment of truth. But you can`t find it here and I couldnt find it within myself.

Not until I did that.

Killing those guys. It was a moment of truth.

The very first moment in my entire life I choose to act. For myself. I choose to be more than the guy thats being kicked around . More than the invisible man. The none existend. You can`t get killed by someone who doesnt exist? Right? So maybe there is one way to proof after all.

"Hey Arthur. I`ve heard what happened. Sorry, mate!"

Gary. Yeah he`s the only one who never joined bullying me. Maybe because he knows how it feels when others are making fun of you. I feel sorry for him that he has to work in such a shitty place with such shitty people. He deserves better. But even though he says he cares there is no real goodbye. No hug or anything. Which makes me a bit sad. I would have prefered to hug him and tell him to take care. Its just sad.  A smirk is crossing my face.

"Yeah, doesnt seem fair" Randall says while he is doing his make up. The tone in his voice is disgusting. You can tell that he is glad that I`m gone. This was what he intented all the time. I try to stay calm as the anger is staring to grow. I`m throwing the rest of the stuff over my shoulders, I dont even care about if I would need this anytime soon. Who knows if I ever find a job as a clown again? As bad as these guys are. I loved being a party clown. I loved this job. the emotions I feel while getting all my stuff out of this locker are about the kids I visited at hospitals and birthdays. Thats what I will miss. I dont know what to do now. Without this job, there is no one left to make them smile. Its not just a job I lost here. Its so much more.

One of the guys is asking me if I really brought a gun to a childrens hospital. And why I did it. I take the horn honk, my paper bag and go my way.

Yeah I did. I brought that gun because I was carrying it everywhere. because you are not save in this fucking town. Not even on your way home to take care of your sick mother dressed as a party clown.

"Is that part of your new act Arthur? If your dancing doesnt do the trick you`re just gonna shoot yourself?" The stipper asks.

Maybe. Maybe this will be the final act after all. Shooting myself in front of an audience is something I should consider. At least it would make them watch.

You can`t look away if a clown just shot himself right in front of your eyes. You gotta look and it will hurt a little, seeing his smile still lingering on his lifeless lips. Remember it. Remember him as someone who wanted to make you smile but you wouldnt have let him, so he decited that this would be his final smile to the world.

I turn around "Why dont you ask Randall about it? It was his gun!" Randall looks at me with a mixture of shock and anger on his face. "What?"  

Can`t handle the truth, huh? Gotta deal with it MY BOY!

"I still owe you for that  dont I?" I point at him and he doesnt like it.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he takes two steps towards me. But I turn around and leave. Not cool to play the innocent one, Randall. Not cool. We both know what you did. Just go and tell them.

"Stop talking out o your ass, Art" he adds.

I  squeeze the honking horn before I throw it over my shoulder. I can feel Randall coming closer. Watching me as I walk away. Suddenly it feels good to leave this place. I hated being lonely among people in this room every morning. I hated hearing their voices and laughs and all the smalltalk they did without even looking at me for once. I hated Randall and the way he was picking on Gary. I hated this fucking stripper for being such an arrogant prick. I hated Hoyt for reminding me of my teacher back in scool.

Maybe I will just continue being a clown without all of this shit. Maybe I`ll become a better version of a clown now that I am free of you. There is this money problem now but I will figure it out. Maybe I´ll find a new job as a bartender or I´ll just go my way and rob the pharmacy.

Now that I realize how much I hated it here I have to blow off some steam.

I gasp "Oh no!"  a step back and another "I forgot to punsh out!"

One last look into their faces before I punch the clock with my fist until it falls off the wall. It feels good to see it lying there on the ground. I`m thinking about how time seemed to stand still around here. Because every day in this locker room was the same. This is my big fuck you to everyone looking at me right now. Why is it that now you can look at me as I go?

I laugh as I turn around.

The radio is playing a song that mentions my clown name. This kind of coincidence doesnt exist. Carnival is leaving the building but he is stilll here. A melodie stuck in their heads now Haunting them. The radio knows. Music always knows. Music knows your secrets. Who else knows about me? The invisible man is rising, becoming visible.

".....and turns to sorrow....king of all hear me call, hear my name is Carnival....."

I go down the stairs with an edding pen in my right hand. The bright yellow "Don`t forget to smile" sign reminds me of the day I got beaten up by those kids. This is not a place for real smiles. This is a place for fake smiles being painted on every morning. Painted onto sad, angry and worn out faces.

I cross out the words "Forget to" so now it says "Dont smile". Much better. Much more realistic for HaHas.  Now you can look at this  everytime you leave. Just like I had to look at the original version every day.

"I dance down the rest of the stairs. My name is Carnival keeps playing. keeps telling me that people finally know who I am. I kick the door open and there is light.

@impulsiveclown @will-you-be-there @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @gwynplaine89 @ajokeformur-ray@damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle  @duhliriouss  @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes  @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie  @check-out-this-joker @darknessisafriend  @arthurhappyclown    @neon-umbrella-for-stella   @call-me-harley-quinn  @arthurjokersgirl @raven-romanoff @ivedescoveredheathsjoker

@aarthurfleckk @mylovelycrazyworld @clownalog @ajokerfangirl  @the-one-who-is-chaos @sabrinaeileensnape @

[shirtlesssammy]

2x02: Everybody Loves a Clown

Then:

Dean wore cute hospital PJs once. And I’m being really flippant over a very cool Then sequence. 

Now:

Medford, Wisconsin

At a fair, the locals are enjoying the rides, and carnies, and clowns (and fire breathers--I mean, I spent many a summer at the county fair in my youth, but I guess, never the one in Medford, WI...wow.) A family with a young girl is enjoying the day. The daughter sees a clown in the distance and waves. 

Yay CLOWNS! If the fucking thing didn’t look like Pennywise’s depressed cousin, maybe I wouldn’t be so skeptical right now. 

Later that night the family drives home in their little Smart Car when the daughter sees Pennywise’s cousin again. Even later, the daughter, hopped up on cotton candy and Fun Dip, can’t sleep. She looks outside to see Pennywise’s cousin chillin’ in her backyard. TOTES NOT CREEPY. She races downstairs to let him inside. 

Meanwhile, the brothers give their father a hunter’s funeral. Sam is overwhelmed and wants to know if John said anything to Dean before he died. WHelps, NO Sam, NOT AT ALL. Dean lets a Single Man Tear fall because he’s not emotional and not lying and not a big ball of pain and anger and relief and guilt. 

One week later, Dean’s at Bobby’s fixing up Baby (and finally grooving to the actual music of the show, thx Netflix for always ruining my season 1 experience). 

For Is This Pornography Science:

Sam wants Dean to admit SOMETHING. Dean wants to bury it all REAL deep and continue to fix his soul car in silence. 

Sam also has a voicemail on their dad’s phone from a woman named Ellen. They agree to head out to find the woman. 

Sidenote: I love that the minivan only plays AM 70’s music. GOLD. 

Anyway, they end up at a place called the Roadhouse. They head inside to the seemingly deserted bar. There’s a man sleeping on the pool table. Dean is accosted by a young woman with a shotgun. He gets the better hand without issue though. She punches him though and Sam comes out from the back at the end of another gun. Boy, this is a real fun crowd. 

Meet Ellen and Jo Harvelle. They know Sam and Dean, but Sam and Dean don’t know them. And I know John is fresh in his grave, but fuck you, man. Way to isolate and terrorize your children their whole lives. Ellen tells them she could help with the demon. She then puts it together that John is not alright. Sam admits that the demon probably got him. 

Ellen tells them that Ash can help them with their cause. Enter: Ash and all his mullet glory. 

Dean and Ash flirt unnecessarily. Ash is a genius and can’t believe what John accomplished. (I mean, what does a genius have to do with hunting, but ok. Sam and Dean are geniuses too but I’d say it’s their street smarts that’s kept them in the game this long.) 

Anyway, Ash can track the demon. He just needs time. Dean tells Ash that he really likes his hair, and then the camera thought that was too gay so it cuts to Jo’s butt. It’s a cute butt and all, but Dean’s still very bisexual. 

Sam asks Ellen about a folder of case information. 

Dean asks Jo about how Ellen got caught up in the hunter life. Jo’s dad was a hunter. He passed away. There’s a moment of Dean thinking about Jo in more than a friendly stranger way but that passes really quickly. Jo calls him out but Sam interrupts (as he does). He’s caught a case!

Sam actively wants to pursue a killer clown case. What kind of upside down world are we living in? Oh right, the world where Sam works cases to process/push through his grief. The brothers try to figure out what’s happening. Dean wonders if it’s a cursed object since it’s moving from town to town with the carnival and it’s happened in the past. Time to find that needle in a haystack!

At the carnival, a disillusioned kid wanders around the funhouse with his dad. He sees Pennywise’s cousin. 

He’s scared but his dad tells him they’re his friends. That night, little Evan lets his new friend into his home to murder his parents. Boy, I dread thinking about the panel of therapists he’ll need in life.

The brothers decide to pose as carnival workers to blend in to find the cursed object. Dean immediately gets off on the wrong foot with one of the carnival workers, who is blind and has an apparent hair trigger temper. Papazian, the worker, is also adept at whirling blades right into a bullseye which is definitely #goals. Dean then pulls an older brother and makes Sam sit in the clown chair during their interview. “This place is a refuge for outcasts,” the carnival manager says. SOLD!

The boys patrol the carnival with EMF meters, until Sam discovers a real human skeleton dangling in the funhouse. YEESH. Papazian overhears Dean talking about the case over his phone and stops him to ask about “EMF” and “skeletons.” Dean scrambles for an explanation. Um, they’re writing a book about...ghosts! Phew! Saved it, Dean Bean. Before the end of the day Sam and Dean witness another kid who sees an invisible clown. Dun dun DUN. 

Sam and Dean tail the family to their home and then sit outside waiting for the clown to appear. It’s much later when a light turns on in the house. The little girl is awake and she’s ready to bring in her new playmate!

My GOD. 

Dean and Sam intercede in the most shotgunniest of ways, by breaking into the house and blasting away at the clown. The clown suddenly fades to nothing and launches out the door.  

Invisible clown on the loose? G R E A T

Later that morning, the Winchesters ditch the van in the woods off the side of the road.

While they walk, they discuss emotions. Sam pushes Dean to grieve in a healthier, more open way. But Dean is OKAY, he’s FINE! He pushes Sam in return to deal with their Dad’s death and stop trying to bury himself in hunting. 

Later, with emotions safely squashed into a tiny space in their chests again, they go over the case. Ellen’s crew turned up a likely suspect: they’re dealing with a rakshasa, which feeds on people and can turn invisible. They eat every 20-30 years so it lines up with the earlier carnival. Carnival manager Cooper worked at both carnivals, and is now their top suspect. 

Sam breaks into Cooper’s trailer, while Dean heads to Papazian to borrow a brass rakshasa-killing knife. Papazian invites Dean to look for the knife in a trunk, only Dean discovers a clown wig inside. “You?” Dean asks before Papazian morphs out on him.

Dean breaks out of the trailer and runs into Sam. He didn’t get the knife, but he found the killer! Good job? Unfortunately Papazian is currently in invisible mode. Sam races for the funhouse to get some brass, heading for the piping hot pipe organ to steal a few blades. 

In the funhouse, knives whirl out of nowhere, pinning Dean to the wall. He pulls the fire extinguisher system and the invisible shape gets trapped in the mist and strobe light. The Winchesters stab it with a brass pipe and it fades away into a pile of clothes. 

Back at Ellen’s bar, Jo congratulates them on a successful hunt. She heavily hints that Sam’s a third wheel and Sam miraculously leaves so that Jo can make her move.

Dean admits that he’d be heavily on the side of massive flirtation, but he’s been having a rough time lately. “Wrong place, wrong time,” Jo surmises. Yep! 

Ash wanders in. He scraped out all the data from John’s notes and turned it into a genuine demon tracking program on his computer. He’ll notify the Winchesters if omens turn up. 

Ellen offers the Winchesters spare beds but they head back to Bobby’s so Dean can drink and work on his car and pretend that he doesn’t feel things. Sam admits that he’s got a lot to work through about their Dad’s death. He feels guilty that he never mended fences with their dad, and admits that he isn’t okay. He tells Dean that he knows he’s feeling the same. Dean admits his own feelings, except instead of words he uses a crowbar to bash the living hell out of the rear trunk of his soul. I mean car. Dean bby

DEAN SMASH:

I feel like a friggin’ soccer mom!

Was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?

I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?

“Planes crash!” “And apparently clowns kill!”

I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[winchester-fantasies]

Backtrack - Summer of ‘98: Chapter 3

Backtrack Masterlist

Series Summary: What if you were the one Dean came to instead of Lisa? Rewrite of “Swan Song” and some of S6.

Word Count: 2252

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

A/N: Chapter 3′s song: Tides by Swimming Tapes.

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

“I don’t know,” you said skeptically, surveying yourself in the mirror. “I mean, is this really...me?” You turned towards your friend and gestured to the flowered sundress and sandals. 

“Of course it’s you!” your friend, Andrea, exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and turning you back towards the mirror. “You look beautiful, and Dean’s going to think so, too.”

You blushed at the thought and bit your lower lip. “You really think so?” 

“I know so,” Andrea said, giving you a reassuring smile and squeezing your biceps gently. “Do you trust me?” she asked suddenly, turning and going over to her purse lying on your bed.

“You know I do,” you scoffed as you watched her rummage through the bag.

“Good,” she said. “Because I have an idea.”

“Okay…” you said suspiciously.

Andrea held up a small tube of lipstick. Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling very nervous. “N...no,” you stuttered. “I’m good.”

“(Y/N)!” Andrea snapped. “You said you trusted me! I’m your best friend, and I know you better than you know yourself. I know you’re a tomboy, but would it really hurt you to branch out? Just a little? And just for tonight?”

You bit your lip and looked to the floor. You knew Andrea was right. You’d never been a girly girl. You hardly ever wore dresses, preferring your jeans and t-shirts. And on the rare occasion you did wear dresses it was always with Converse and your hair in a ponytail. And you hated makeup. Especially lipstick. 

But maybe Andrea was right. You never put yourself out there or stepped out of your comfort zone. Maybe you did need to push yourself a little. “Okay,” you said, nodding once and squaring your jaw.

Andrea raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re serious?” she asked incredulously.

“Just do it already!” you clipped. “Before I lose my nerve.”

“Okay,” Andrea chuckled. “Little Miss ‘Livin’ On the Wild Side’.”

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Sit,” Andrea directed, gesturing to your bed. You perched on the end, raising your face to the light when she told you to. Her eyes were focused as she rolled the creamy lipstick over your lips, making sure it was flawless before she put the cap back on. “There!” she said triumphantly. “Go take a look.”

You smiled timidly before sliding off the bed and going to the mirror. “Wow,” you breathed, your eyes widening at the sight. Your lips were now a soft shade of pink, almost peach, the color contrasting just enough with your skin to bring attention to the plump flesh of your mouth. “I’m hot!” you blurted.

“You totally are!” Andrea laughed, making you blush when you realized what you’d said. “Told you you could trust me.”

“You’re right once again,” you said, grinning as you turned back around. 

“What would you ever do without me?” Andrea teased.

You put your finger dramatically to your chin as if deeply contemplating her question. “Probably die,” you finally said with a shrug of your shoulders.

Andrea laughed. “What time is Dean coming to get you again?”

“7:00,” you said, glancing at the clock. Your stomach clenched. “So...in fifteen minutes…. Andrea...I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Listen,” Andrea said. “I know you haven’t felt like yourself since you and Caleb broke up, but I really think this would be a good thing. I like Dean. He seems like a nice guy, he’s cute, and he doesn’t strike me as someone who plays games. At least not from what you’ve told me.” She came up and hugged you tight. “Go. Have fun.”

“Okay,” you finally conceded just as the doorbell rang. You heard the door open and muffled voices downstairs before footsteps approached the staircase.

“(Y/N)!” Leah hollered up the stairs. “Your date’s here!”

Your stomach flipped, and you looked to Andrea, your eyes wide. “Go,” she chuckled, practically pushing you out the door.

You walked down the stairs nervously. You found Dean standing near the front door, twiddling a set of keys in his hand as he looked around at the family pictures on your walls. He looked up as you descended the last step, his green eyes lighting up. 

“Hey,” you murmured.

“Hey,” Dean said, grinning. “You look gorgeous,” he breathed, his eyes sweeping over you.

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a blush creep up your face, your shyness getting the better of you again.

“You ready?” he asked eagerly.

“Yep!” you said, picking up your crossbody bag from the table by the door. 

He opened the door, standing off to the side as you approached. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing to the entrance.

You giggled before walking through, pausing while he closed the door. “A lot nicer inside when there’s not a party and people aren’t puking,” Dean said, jabbing his thumb behind him.

“It is,” you chuckled. You started down the sidewalk towards town, but stopped when you didn’t hear Dean following.

You found him still standing in the driveway, an amused smirk on his face. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asked.

“To the carnival,” you said in confusion.

“And how did you expect to get there?” Dean asked.

“By...walking,” you said. “I do it all the time.”

“Well, not today you’re not,” Dean said, starting for his house.

You frowned before hurrying to catch up with him. “What do you mean?” you asked once you were by his side again.

“You’ll see,” Dean said vaguely, sending you a wink. He walked to the garage where he deftly pulled the heavy door open. Their Chevy Impala sat inside, freshly washed and waxed. Dean stood back, gauging your reaction.

“No way,” you breathed. “We’re taking her?” 

“Yep,” Dean said proudly. “Wouldn’t be a proper date if we didn’t.”

“How did you manage that?” you asked, walking over to the vehicle, your hand trailing lightly over the sleek, black metal. You knew his dad was particularly possessive over the Impala after observing them over the few weeks since they’d moved in, rarely letting Dean drive, if ever.

“Dad’s taking a few days off from...uh, work. Told him I needed Baby for a job of my own,” Dean said.

“Baby?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yep, good ol’ Baby,” Dean said, slapping a hand on her trunk affectionately. “Been the only one I needed. ‘Til now.” He glanced up at you when he said the last part, and you couldn’t help the butterflies that danced in your stomach.

You cleared your throat, desperate to keep the silly grin that threatened to cross your lips. “So,” you said. “You know you’re not getting paid for this “job,” right?” you asked playfully.

“I’m not worried about money, when I’m getting paid in something better,” Dean said with a smirk. “Kisses.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Feeling lucky, huh?” 

“Am I right?” Dean asked, his voice playful but with an undertone of hopefulness.

“We’ll see,” you said coyly.

Dean chuckled before coming around to the passenger’s side. “You really ready this time?” he asked with a chuckle, opening your door for you.

You smiled and nodded before sliding into the car, the warm leather soft against the backs of your thighs. Dean shut the door behind you before going around to the driver’s side and climbing in. He started the Impala, the engine roaring to life and leveling off to a steady hum. 

Dean sent you a grin before he started backing Baby up and out of the garage. Before long you were on the highway, headed to the carnival only a few streets over. 

The boardwalk and surrounding area were busy as Dean parked the car. He quickly alighted from the Impala, pocketing the keys and hurrying around to the passenger’s side and opening your door for you.

“Thank you,” you said, stepping out and grabbing your bag.

You and Dean started for the carnival, the sounds of laughter, playful screams, and the smells of kettle corn and cotton candy filled the air. “Where to first?” Dean asked as you passed under the carnival banner.

You looked around at everything being offered before pointing to the carousel. Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that for little kids?” 

“No!” you scoffed. “And even if it is, I’m a big kid at heart.”

Dean chuckled as you made your way over to the ride. It wasn’t long before you were both settled on the carousel, you on your white palomino and Dean on his black stallion.

Soon the scenery of the carnival was flashing by. Dean’s face was lit up as he watched you, wind in your hair, head tipped back and a wide grin on your lips as you let go and enjoyed the exhilaration of it all.

But all too soon the ride was over. “That was so much fun!” you exclaimed, smoothing down your windswept hair. 

“It was,” Dean admitted with a grin. “Where to next?” 

“I’ve already picked. It’s your turn,” you said, adjusting your bag across your shoulder.

“Well, I was kinda thinking the fun house,” Dean said. “But we don’t have to if you don’t….”

“Let’s go!” you said excitedly, grabbing his hand and practically running over to the brightly colored building with the face of a clown as its front. Dean presented two tickets to the attendant before leading you inside, his hand never leaving yours.

You walked through, enjoying the various attractions. There was a floor that tipped back and forth and backwards and forwards, resulting in you grasping onto Dean’s arm while his snaked around your waist to hold you steady; fun house mirrors that distorted your bodies beyond recognition and had you and Dean bursting at the seams with laughter; the jet air vents that had you feeling like Marilyn Monroe; and the ball pit you and Dean had to navigate to get to the exit.

By the time you reached the end, you were both hot and sweaty messes. You wiped your hand across your brow, enjoying the light breeze that cooled your heated skin. “I need something to drink after that workout!” you panted, fanning your face.

Dean chuckled, holding out his hand to you. “C’mon.” He lead you to one of the food trucks advertising corn dogs, funnel cakes, and freshly squeezed lemonade. He ordered one of the lemonades, grabbing two straws before coming back to you, settling himself down on the wooden bench beside you. He handed you the plastic cup, you drinking the sweet and tart liquid greedily. “You having fun?” Dean asked as you handed him back the drink. You nodded as he took a sip. “Good,” he said with a grin. “Any idea what you wanna do next?” 

“Well, I’ve been craving cotton candy since we got here,” you said with a giggle.

“Cotton candy it is,” Dean said before taking another sip.

“So how do you like it here?” you asked as you and Dean walked along the outskirts of the carnival. You popped a piece of the pink candy floss into your mouth before offering some to Dean.

Dean pinched some of the fluffy candy between his fingers, placing it in his mouth and letting it melt on his tongue before responding. “I like it,” he said. “It’s so different from Texas, and anywhere we’ve lived really.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another bite and watching him out of the corner of your eye.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s just the people, the town, the atmosphere…. It all just...feels like home.”

Your heart seized up as he spoke, a wistful and almost sad tone in his voice. Even though you’d never talked about it, you knew he’d had a rough life; a life already burdening him even at his young age. You stopped walking, Dean coming to a halt when he realized you weren’t by his side anymore. He turned to look at you, a questioning look in his mossy eyes. 

“Everything okay?” he asked in concern.

You smiled and closed the small distance between you, taking his hand in yours and brushing your thumb over the back of his larger one. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

He grinned, his eyes growing soft. “I am, too.” He cleared his throat and glanced to the ground quickly before meeting your gaze once more. “So, uh, you wanna go do something else?”

“Sure,” you said with a soft smile and quick squeeze of his hand. 

Minutes later you and Dean were seated on the Sizzler, your body squished against Dean’s side as you whirled around, your hair whipping around your face. You couldn’t help but laugh as the ride spun you both around, your chortles swallowed up by the wind. You could hear Dean’s deep laughter, too, as he carefully maneuvered his arm around you, holding you close. 

You and Dean were still laughing once the ride finally stopped and you were making your way back to the parking lot. Dean grabbed your hand and whipped you around to face him once you reached the Impala. Your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity as he stared down at you, the side of his face illuminated by the bright lights of the carnival.

His hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you pressed against him while his other came up to caress your cheek. “Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes searching yours affectionately. “Thank you for tonight... And for reminding me what it means to be alive.”

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

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[darknessisafriend]

Reader is student who on a good day receives lots of candy and shares one with Carnival. When Arthur as Joker has shot Murray and escapes, he spots the same student among the crowd, trying to escape the rioting going on around her. He goes after her and avoids being captured again. Instead, he follows student to her apartment. (I am all up for dubcon smut, but might as well end in sweet fluff)

Ok I didn’t planned it to be fluff but it turned so soft like I was cryin’ and melting at the same time!!!! I hope you’ll like it ^^

Sweets

You were used to see him you see him every day doing his gig when you come back from college, you never really stopped but you always slowed down, you liked his dynamism, he was always smiling. And you didn’t dare to admit it out loud, but you had a little crush on him, maybe you were just into clowns, who knows…more seriously he had some serious moves, always dancing on the rhythm of the man playing piano, and he had gorgeous eyes, you’d love to be closer to memorize their details, but you never dared. After all you were just a student, the guy had a job and was probably 10 years older than you or more, so either he would never be interested in you or he’s already taken.

One day you had received lots of sweets in class, you had this cool professor who always distributed sweets to the whole class before Christmas holidays. And yeah you were finally in holidays, you were super excited to sleep and do nothing, literally. As you took your usual path to home, you reached the place where the clown performed, you had learned that his name was Carnival when one day a little kid had interacted with him. And this time you stopped to watch him, you stayed a bit far so he would not see you. At some point he stopped he was probably finished, he went to the side in your direction actually ‘oh shit did he see me?’  but apparently, he didn’t, he leans against the wall not far from you, taking out of his pocket a pack of cigarette, he brought one to his lips, lighting it, he took a long drag, he looked exhausted.

He turned his head, his eyes landing on you, and oh gosh they were gorgeous, this light green was something you had rarely seen, so deep and attractive… that’s when you realized you had been staring at him the whole time, you opened and closed your mouth several times before muttering “sorry” he continued to look at you a small smile forming on his lips. You didn’t know what to say, if you had the money you would have given him a tip for his hard work; you suddenly remembered you had a whole bag of sweets, it was better than nothing you thought. So you quickly reached for it in your backpack, took a nice handful of them, and took a few steps towards him, a kind smile on your lips and offered him your hand full of sweets.

“Want some?” you asked him. You could tell he was honestly surprised by your gesture and looked at you for a bit, then he nodded taking only one candy.

“Thank you…” he smiled, he unwrapped it and put it in his mouth, briefly closing his eyes at the taste of the sweet. You blushed, happy to brighten his day. But now it was time for you to go, let’s not bother the man any longer.

“I should go…have a nice evening Carnival.” You said in a sympathetic tone, giving him a bright smile as you left to go home.

What you didn’t see is that the clown eyes were following you, he had pushed himself from the wall, he had wanted to ask for your name and maybe even get a coffee together, but he never dared to catch you…

As days and weeks passed you never saw Carnival again, even though you passed in the same street every day. Maybe he was working in another place, but you missed his presence, his dancing was the ray of sunshine in your day. At some point you just avoided to go out, because of the things happening, the murder of these Wall Street guys which you didn’t really care about because people were dying every day, especially the poor, disabled or even students like you and nobody ever mentions their names. What worried you the most were the riots, of course people needed to be heard, but the chaos and insecurity these riots were generating was scaring you.

And with time it only got worse, especially tonight, you went to the supermarket, and suddenly outside it was chaos, people started to come in the shop, breaking the windows and stealing. You quickly escaped the shop, and, in the streets, cars were on fire, people screaming and chanting slogans, the police was clearly outnumbered. You looked around trying to find the best way to get home safely. You decided the walk fast home, not look at anyone, just walk fast. As you past by a an electronic shop, from the corner of your eyes you saw a TV broadcasting Murray Franklin Show, you never watched this but some friends of yours had told you about it, apparently, they had showed the video of a guy doing stand up comedy but having some sort of nervous laughter attack; you didn’t get what was so funny about this, you briefly stopped at the title of the news ‘Murray shot dead on live show by a clown’ you frowned at this, ‘was this guy some sort of symbol of the riots out there?’

A loud noise made you jumped and yelp in surprise, it seems a car crash had happened, you hoped the people in there were okay…but now something more important was in your mind than check, get out of this mess alive. You started to walk again but you were a bit lost, the chaos and destruction had completely changed your surroundings, you looked around trying to distinguish something familiar. You were panting, ‘what if I couldn’t go home?’ you started to think panicked. You closed your eyes trying to focus on calming your breathing, it was the only way you were able to think. When you succeeded, you opened your eyes and finally recognized where you were, nothing will stop you, you will go home safely no matter what.

Joker’s side

Fog…fog everywhere…everything hurts…there’s noise all around him, what’ s going on? He wonders, the noise grows stronger making his whole-body tremble. Suddenly, a rough cough erupts from his chest, he can’t contain it, as he coughs, the back of his head hits something metallic, increasing his headache, he feels warm liquid on his lips, the taste like iron. When he finally open his eyes all he sees are people, people gathered around him, lights everywhere in the night, they are wearing clown masks, he hears them calling his name, his stage name ‘Joker’. He wonders what’s happening why people are calling his name? suddenly everything rushes back to his mind, his mother, Murray, how he got arrested until he lost consciousness. He painfully gets up to look around, he sees the police car he was in, collided by an ambulance, how ironic…

But people are cheering for him, he can’t believe it, they’re finally seeing him, they love him…he wants to see if it’s really happening, so he poses and then starts dancing on top of this police car, he spins and people cheer even more, yes, he’s loved, finally…he feels tears prickling in his eyes…

He feels more blood in his mouth, his blood, crimson red just like his paint, slowly he puts his fingers in his mouth, gathering blood on it, and traces up from the corner of his lips to his cheekbones, forming a smile because he is happy now, it only costed him everything and to kill his own mind, now he’s happy, he can’t help but laugh.

Suddenly he hears sirens coming closer, he has to get out here, he won’t be caught again, not now that he’s free. His eyes are searching the crown looking for a path where he could escape, unnoticed. He gets off the car, and pushes through the people, now some of them are running away, other running towards the police to fight them.

As his eyes look for a way to go, he spots a young woman, who’s apparently looking to go away too, her clothes, her hair somehow looks familiar to him, he squints his eyes to try to recognize her, when finally she look the crowd, he remembers, the sweets girl! He thinks quickly, you’re the only way for him to hide, when you will recognize him, you will help him! He’s sure of it!  

He starts to run after you, but then he realize that you might have heard of the murders and Murray…what if you’re scared of him or repulsed and doesn’t want to talk to him? To this thought he slows down. He’s going to follow you, to your place, and away from the cops, he will try to talk to you, explain everything and you’ll understand.

 Your POV

You were getting away from the riots easier than you thought, the streets were empty, most people in the main avenue. You were almost home, you sighed in relief, but you suddenly turned to look if someone had followed you; everything was empty apart from rats in the trash bags, everything was silent apart from the muffled roar of the riots. For some reason you thought that someone was following you, you shook your head a continued your way home. You were living on the first floor of a small building, mostly occupied by students which meant it could get pretty noisy at night especially week ends, but other than that it was safe, it’s all that mattered.  You finally entered the building and walked straight to your door, your searched for your keys and paused, you swear you’d heard something, so you just don’t move and do as less noise as possible, listening for anything, that’s when you heard it again, it was someone breathing behind you! You jumped and turned, you’re back hitting your door, you yelped in anticipation, squeezing your eyes shut briefly seeing the shape of someone.

But nothing came, your heart was beating so fast that it was the only thing you could hear.

“I’m…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you…” the voice said, it’s tone strangely apologetic and soft. Slowly you opened your eyes, trying to calm down your breathing. Your eyes landed on a man wearing colorful costume and a clown makeup, it reminded you of something, you opened wide your eyes as your remembered that you had seen him on TV, the killer.

“What do you want?” you shivered, looking at your feet ‘please don’t hurt me’. The man took a deep breath, and shuffle like he was unsure.

“It’s me…Carnival…” he lamented, his sad tone struck you, until you processed what he had just said, ‘Carnival as in the happy clown down the street?’ you finally looked up to meet his eyes, you instantly recognized them, those beautiful green eyes, they were wet and there’s was glow of hope in them. You realize he was probably looking for your help.

“But…you killed someone.” You replied disappointed by what he had done. He nodded not trying to hide it from you, you realized he had a big gash on his forehead still bleeding.

“I did but he deserved it, you’ve seen what he did to me right?” he asked, his voice surer, showing he didn’t regret it.

“No, I…” you admitted confused.

“Then please just let me explain…” he pleaded, almost reaching out to touch you, but he refrained when he saw you flinch. You passed a trembling hand on your forehead, you didn’t know what to do, even in this moment he looked pure and nice just like the Carnival you used to watch, but you couldn’t help but think he might hurt you too. He seemed to understand what was going through your mind.

“I won’t hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you…I need your help.” He added, lifting his hands in sign of peace. Suddenly on your left you heard the noise of someone opening its door, without thinking you quickly opened yours and shoved Carnival inside, as you were entering the voice of your neighbor called you.

“Y/N is everything alright? I heard screaming” he asked.

“Oh yeah, yeah…it’s just my boyfriend he surprised me and with what’s happening outside I’m a bit jumpy that’s all.” You jabbered, scratching the back of your head, giving him a small smile.

“Oh ok then…goodnight.” He wished you, you quickly closed your door, sighing in relief and looked for the clown. He was watching you curiously, with some sort of admiration, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Your boyfriend?” he hinted, teasing. You retained a laugh and rolled your eyes.

“Seriously?” you replied, slightly amused that it’s the only thing bothering him. You put your bags on the counter and took off your coat always facing him just in case he tried something. He looked around you small studio, slightly fidgeting his hands. You watched him, apart from the blood he looked perfectly normal, what exactly happened?

“Oh my name’s Arthur.” He told you, walking towards you, extending his hand to you. You looked at it for a moment then took it.

“Y/N” you replied. He nodded, and repeated your name, softly chuckling.

“So care to tell me what happened?” you asked him, you were curious but also afraid to discover that you let some sort of psychopath in your studio. He sat on your chair, he seemed to feel a bit weak, probably due to his wounds. Then he started from the beginning, his life, his condition, how people treated him like a freak, then the murder of the 3 guys in the subway. However this time you weren’t scared because you understood that he simply defended himself and knew he would be sent to prison because he wouldn’t be able to get a good attorney. Then he told you about this Murray mocking him.

“So it was you on the video?” you asked pained to imagine what he went through, he nodded “Have you seen it?” he asked you.

“No, I don’t watch this show…but I heard about the video…” you explained feeling empathy for Arthur.

“They just wanted to make fun of me” he snarled, his eyes feeling with hatred “I won’t ever again be mocked or beaten, they will die” he declared deadly serious. You swallowed feeling the strength and level of dangerous nature he could reach. But as you’ve heard once ‘all it takes is one bad day’ for someone to let go and give in to insanity.  Honestly you didn’t know what to say about all this, you simply understood how he ended up this way and there was nothing really to do about this, deep down you wished you had been there for him, if only one single person had cared for him, things would be different and you couldn’t help but think you could be there for him now? Could it help? What about the consequences?

“I’m gonna get some compresses, we need to clean this…” you declared motioning to his forehead, giving him a compassionate smile.

You came back with everything you needed, you approached him, not so afraid anymore and he was actually calm, he didn’t look like he was having a psychosis episode or something like that. Delicately you brushed his hair out of his forehead, and carefully applied the compress, cleaning the cut, you also took care of smaller cuts, Arthur was watching you work on him.

“Why did you come to me?” you asked him after several minutes, this question was burning your lips since the beginning; he had seen you only once and he had followers in all Gotham now, surely somebody would have hidden him…he let out a small laugh.

“I saw you, among all the people there, you caught my eye, I remembered that offered me sweets…” the tone of his voice changes, strangled with emotion “you had looked at me so nicely and gave me something without expecting something in return”. His eyes were nostalgic, remembering this moment, you smiled at this memory.

“You know, I actually watched you every day…I just…for some reason was hiding, I didn’t want you to see me, that’s how we met actually I was watching and I didn’t expect you to come next to me and see me” you confessed blushing and chuckling at how ridiculous you had been. You positioned yourself between his legs to clean the blood around his lips, your fingers delicately cupping his jaw. Your thumb soothingly caressing his cheek; while you cleaned his lips, he stayed silent, still watching your every movement as if you were fascinating, in fact he was actually entranced by your beauty and your care for him. When you finished, you didn’t move, your thumb softly caressed his lower lip, your eyes looking at them, then you looked back at his eyes, they were looking at you with adoration.

“I have to confess something too.” He started with a low voice, intimate “when you left, I wanted to run to you, ask for your name and offer you a coffee, a date actually.”

“Really?” you reply surprised that he was actually interested in you.

“Yes” he cooed, a beautiful smile forming on his lips “I loved you the second I laid my eyes on you.” He added slowly lifting his hands and resting them on your hips. You released a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, you genuinely smiled at his confession and softly bit your lips.

He studently brought you closer to him, pressing your body against his and crashing his lips against yours, you tasted his blood, metallic, his tongue was soft against yours, you buried your fingers in his green locks, the both of you releasing the restrained desire you had for each other.    

“We must make up for lost time kitten…” he purred against your lips, smirking. Oh yes you will and even more…

[anotherdayinchuckletown]

They’re Funny That Way, Chapter 2

A/N: Hey, guys!  I’m pretty happy with the feedback I received on Chapter 1, and I’m so so thankful to everyone who took the time to read it (especially those of you who offered me kind and encouraging words, ily!)  So, the story continues!

I’ve found over the years that dialogue is my biggest strength, and scenes with little to no dialogue stretch and challenge me a bit.  So this chapter was a touch longer in development than the last. But I hope to get a consistent update schedule going pretty soon here because I have a very fleshed-out plan for this fic.

That said, I hope you enjoy!  Please like, reblog, and comment if you do!

(cross-posted to my AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/marie_deneuve)

______________________________________________________

Arthur Fleck has seen an angel. There is no other way to describe it.

Things are especially tedious since he returned from his latest stint at the psychiatric ward. The same things, day in and day out, until each day begins to blur together like a watercolor painting. No clear lines separating one grueling day from the next, every shape hazy and undefined beyond the smoke of his cigarettes. He himself disappears into the smog and goes about his life unseen. Unknown. Not to mention, he's now on thin ice at work – Hoyt, his boss, made that much clear to him right off the bat. "You've missed a lot of days, Arthur," he had said the morning he came in to pick up his belongings. "Just try not to be a pain in the ass. No fucking up, you got that?" Arthur can't remember how he responded, if he responded. Only that the voice in his head (it's his mother's voice that time) told him to Smile. At least you got your job back. It's so much easier to smile when he's Carnival, and not just because the expression is painted on for him. He loves his job, honestly, he does. Every once in a while, when he's working gigs at birthday parties or at the children's hospital, when he's able to make the kids laugh, it seems worth it. For just a minute, it seems as though he's good for something after all. As though maybe when his mother used to tell him his purpose was to spread joy and laughter in the world, she was right. And maybe he could actually do it. Then he takes off the wig, the brightly-colored clothes, the greasepaint...and the illusion is broken. Sometimes it's easy to forget the husk of a man that lies underneath the makeup. Arthur Fleck. Who is Arthur Fleck? Hard to say. Carnival is easier. And so Carnival stays that evening as he walks home. Also because he's just so fucking exhausted. Not changing out of his clown costume at work means a little less dealing with his coworkers and a little more getting home to sequester himself from the rest of the world for the remainder of the evening. The woman on the elevator is not part of the plan. She holds the door open for him and retreats silently into a corner. The air between them is still as death as they ascend, her eyes burning holes in the back of his coat all the while. Arthur initially avoids looking back at her, afraid that if he does, she'll vanish into thin air. He's becoming too used to his lonely, damaged psyche playing such tricks on him. She never even pushes any of the buttons for a specific floor – if she's a hallucination, she's not even a convincing one. The trip is not smooth by any means – surprise, surprise – and the woman seems more than a little perturbed. "Does...that happen often?" Her voice, gentle and feathery, suddenly drifts over him, covering him like a weighted blanket. He turns to face her fully, intending to respond, but pauses when he feels his heart stop. She is undoubtedly the most beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on. She instantly evokes images of those actresses in the black and white films of his youth. The same powerful air of sophistication as Grace Kelly. The same allure as Rita Hayworth. Only she's in vivid color, and they're not separated by a screen, and she's so close. Even in the elevator's dingy lighting, her blonde curls glow like a halo. Her full lips are pulled into a concerned frown, and her icy blue eyes are trained quizzically on him. Right, that's because she asked him a question. And he's so far done nothing but stare at her like a depraved creep. Carnival, his work persona, doesn't generally speak - and thank fuck for that. Arthur doesn't think he could power out a single word if he wanted to, his mouth has gone so dry. In the end, all he manages is a shrug. Idiot. She must not think he's a total loser because she keeps talking to him anyway, even pays him a compliment – a compliment! When's the last time that happened? He's definitely glad he kept the clown costume on now; interacting with her this way is safer, gives him less of a chance to screw it up. Less of a chance for her to see how pathetic he really is underneath it all. All good things must come to an end, however, and they do eventually reach the eighth floor. And when they do, she surprises him yet again. "I'm new to the building, by the way – my name's Emma. It's a pleasure." Emma. Emma. Emma. She extends a perfectly-manicured hand, and for a moment, Arthur just stares. This is most likely when he finds out that this woman, this magnificent vision in his hallway, this Emma, is nothing more than a fantastic dream. And if she is, in fact, a dream, he's not so sure he's ready to wake up. Nevertheless, he gingerly returns the gesture. Their hands connect. Soft and tentative, but tangible. Warm. Light. So light that Arthur feels as though he's floating, hovering just above the tiled floor, and he could continue to float forever, as long as he just holds on. To his disappointment, she is the one to let go. Arthur crashes back down to the floor, a chill running through him at the sudden loss of contact, simple though it was. She bids him good night and takes off down the hall, the click of her heels in perfect sync with the thrumming of his heart against his ribcage. Emma. Emma. Emma. He gets the feeling he won't forget that name for as long as he lives. Arthur Fleck has seen an angel. And she is so, so beautiful. _____________________________________ "Hey, you look like shit." "Thanks, motherfucker." On her way to the kitchen, Emma totters past the open bathroom door, where Eddie is busy shaving his face. Apparently not too busy to comment on her fresh-out-of-bed appearance, though. She will admit, she's not surprised if she doesn't look her best at the moment. Almost a week of sleeping on a rapidly-deflating air mattress on Eddie's living room floor has not done her back any favors. The bags forming under her eyes make her look like she hasn't slept since the seventies, and her hair has become stringy and unkempt since the last time it was washed. To top it off, she still has none of her clothes or other belongings. So she's currently sporting an oversized Creedence Clearwater Revival t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, both borrowed from Eddie. They hang off of her smaller frame, giving her the appearance of a sickly child who will be hard-pressed to survive the coming winter. "You making breakfast?" her brother asks, poking his head into the foyer. A glob of shaving cream drips onto the tile below him, and Emma grimaces. She returns her focus to her previous mission of rifling through the freezer, pushing past an assortment of cheap vodka and TV dinners until she finds his deposit of frozen waffles. "Eggos!" she calls out. "Cool! Pop an extra one in the toaster for me, yeah?" Emma complies, setting an extra plate out for him as well. As the toaster whirs quietly atop the kitchen counter, she begins her morning ritual of planting herself on the sofa and burying her face in the job listings section of the local newspaper. The job hunt so far has yielded results that are...less than stellar. So many applications, so many interviews, and so far...nothing. "We'll call you if something else opens up" here and "we'll keep you on file" there. Even a "your educational background is good, but we're looking for a little more experience". It's starting to take a toll on her self-esteem. The only real offer she's gotten is from a dive bar across town called The Harlequin. She's familiar with the bartending world – it's how she put herself through college. And she likes to think she's damn good at it, too – hell, she had mastered the Bloody Mary with only a couple weeks' practice! Run-of-the-mill margaritas and martinis? Piece of cake. Not to mention, studying psychology at the same time has granted her an uncanny ability to manipulate a conversation, bend it to her will. Sniff out how to get the biggest possible tips from each kind of patron. Yes, she's a master, all right. But she's really hoping to move on to something with a more...prestigious title. "Any new prospects today?" Eddie emerges from the bathroom just as the toaster lets out a soft 'ding!' He quickly joins Emma on the sofa, a plate of waffles in either hand and bottle of syrup under his arm, completely bypassing the dining room table as per usual. She hasn't seen him eat a single meal at that table yet, instead opting to bring his food into the living room and spill his goddamn crumbs all over the furniture. "Nothing yet, besides The Harlequin thing," Emma grumbles, taking the fork he offers and muttering a quick "thank you" as he sets a plate down on the coffee table for her. "I'm tempted to accept it, just so I can end the madness." "Didn't Sophie recommend you at the bank?" Eddie goes to town with the syrup, drowning his breakfast until the golden-brown liquid threatens to spill off of his plate and onto the coffee table. "She tried. Nothing was open." Emma puts down the newspaper for the time being, feeling the beginnings of a migraine creeping along her scalp. She instead grabs the remote and flips on the TV across the living room, the background noise helping her to relax her mind. Eddie shovels in a forkful of his syrupy concoction. "Sorry we couldn't get you on at the record store. We had a spot last week, but Ron's back from rehab now..." he says with his mouth full. "That reminds me, you still thinking about medical school?" That gives her pause. Honestly, she hasn't thought about medical school in quite a while. More pressing matters to attend to. Besides, it's been years since she last studied. Who's to say that she could pick up where she left off now, even if she were to apply? In the end, after a moment's hesitation, she shrugs. "Maybe. I'm a little rusty, you know?" She takes a meager bite of her own breakfast, chewing carefully. "Aw, come on, that's a cop-out!" Eddie abruptly stands and rushes to the kitchen, leaving his plate behind. As he begins to rummage through the fridge, he continues. "You gotta at least try! You're smart and talented, you work your ass off – where the fuck? – oh, there it is..." He returns with a can of whipped cream and unleashes about half of it onto his plate, and the other half directly into his mouth. "Plus!" He grins. "You look like me, so you know you've got it goin' on." The fraternal twins did bear a striking resemblance to one another as children, but age has individualized them greatly. Where Emma remains on the shorter side, Eddie is now a solid six feet tall. Eddie has also experienced a little more horizontal growth; although Emma suspects his rampant drinking (more so than his atrocious diet) is the cause. "I'm not sure what looks have to do with anything..." Emma scans her brother's plate for the waffle. She can't see it - it's forever lost to the sugary onslaught. Maybe it is his diet after all. "Looks have to do with everything, Em. Not fair, but true." His eyebrows furrow, and he scrutinizes her face. "Speaking of which, you really do look terrible." "You mentioned." "No, like...have you been sleeping at all?" His eyes narrow with concern, meeting her own sunken ones. "I know that air mattress is a piece of shit - you can get yourself something nicer if you want." Emma sometimes forgets how observant Eddie can be when he focuses. She really hasn't been able to sleep a wink since she arrived in Gotham several days ago. He's right, the air mattress is an awkward and lumpy piece of shit, but that's not the real reason sleep evades her. The walls of the tiny apartment seem to cry in anguish at night. Sirens blare outside the window near constantly; they're sometimes accompanied by flashing red and blue lights, the colors piercing through the curtains and waltzing unsettlingly across the floor. People wander the streets until the wee hours, shouting at each other, their combined voices drifting toward the sky in an unpleasant cacophony. Emma can easily understand why folks here on the East Side are so exhausted. The only person who sleeps less than she does is the man who lives next door. She's never seen him, but she's definitely heard him. At least once every night, when she least expects it, he bursts into sudden uproarious laughter. Normally, Emma would march right over and ask the man what could possibly be so fucking funny at three in the morning (only a bit more tactfully, she's not an animal), but she never brings herself to do it. Truthfully, she's scared to. Something is not right about that laugh. It's discordant and jarring, as if clawing its way into the apartment like a demon prying frantically through the drywall. It lacks joy, and in fact, actually sounds pretty damn miserable. A part of her wonders if the man is all right. Regardless, a better mattress couldn't hurt. "Yeah, I might do that," she says. "I probably should prioritize getting some clothes of my own first." Satisfied, Eddie returns to demolishing his waffle creation. "Get whatever you want, as long as you can make the space for it. Want you to be comfortable while you're here, however long that is." He chuckles. "With your money, I'm sure you can spoil yourself much better than I can." Emma snorts, gesturing wildly at herself and at her surroundings. "Money? What money?" "You kidding?" He looks genuinely surprised for a moment. "Your ex is a millionaire! You mean to tell me you haven't hopped on that alimony pony?" "Oh, don't be ridiculous, I don't give a shit about Daniel's money." Emma rolls her eyes. "Not to mention, we only separated a week ago. We have to set a court date, fill out the paperwork-" "Yeah, yeah," Eddie drawls, waving her off. "When that check comes, you remember who took your ass in, no questions asked. Got it?" It's nice to know his sense of humor hasn't changed. Emma nods once. "You got it." They eat in peaceful silence for a while, the distant voice of the news anchor on TV the only sound in the room. Something that doesn't happen often for the siblings. After a few minutes, Eddie speaks up again. "Hey, Em?" "Yeah?" "...Glad you're back. Missed you." "Hm." A faint smile plays along her lips. "Missed you too." 

[hughiecampbelle]

hi enna, how’s my queen doing?!? im here for this awesome shipping event u got going on, so that being said: marvel ship ;), i’m bi, have green eyes, freckles, big curly hair, literally always winking and sticking my tongue out (signature pose 😌), i love skateboarding, rock/metal music, comics/nerd shit, photography, writing. im on the career path of a welder, i have germophobia and ocd so catch me kicking doors open like im cool (thats what i tell myself 😎). also i am a performing clown, ty!!

Lacey!!! My queen!!!! I ship you with: Michelle Jones!!! She loves your hair! The bigger the better, at least in her eyes. She loves playing with it, running her hands through it. It's relaxing for the both of you, and a way for her to show her affection without words. It makes her blush when you push your hair from your face or tuck it behind your ears. She'd never admit it, but she loves it. She also loves your different interests. You want so much from life, learning so much, loving so much, it leaves her in awe. From music to comics to photography and writing, she wants to be let in on it. She's honored when you show her a new song or band, one you hold close to your heart, and cherishes any writing you're open to sharing knowing it's such an intimate thing. You love her sense of humor. It's dark and sarcastic, and sometimes dry, but it always makes you smile, no matter what. She knows just how to pick up your spirits after a long day. To see you try to hide your smile at her after a bad day is the best part of hers. Your relationship is playful. You're always open to new things, going new places, trying new things together. Whether that be signing up for clubs together at school, or even starting your own, or trying out unique fun date ideas like carnivals or poetry readings. Even if you don't like it, you're happy you tried it. You're constantly trying to push one another out of your comfort zones, explore things you could potentially love. You're not afraid when you're together. Your first date is at a skatepark. Michelle isn't the best, but she's willing to try, and has the perfect teacher: you! After a lot of scraped knees and embarassing falls, you guys get comfortable with one another, spending the day and we'll into the night together, talking, skating, falling for one another. Relationship Headcanon: Michelle has a playlist solely for songs and bands you show her. Whenever you're together she always plays it, knowing they're your favorites, that they'll make you happy. When you're apart or she misses you, she plays it as a small reminder of you. They're songs/a playlist she doesn't let just anyone listen to either.

Lacey my queen, my love, thank you so freaking much!!!! :D I really, really hope you like it!! Xoxoxo💜💖👑💜💖👑💜💖👑

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

That’s Not a Real Kiss (Telltale John Doe x Reader)

A/N: Here’s a thing nobody asked for that I’ve had on my mind literally since I created this blog. I love soft John Doe and just want him to be happy because Harley’s abusive and Bruce is a jackass; you’re welcome.

My take on the Telltale Harley Quinn/Joker dynamic is that it’s essentially a switcheroo on the regular representation of the couple, with John Doe being the unstable but more or less well-meaning pushover and Harley being the manipulative, abusive mastermind. With a side of Bruce also being kind of a dumpster fire of a character, in my opinion. I just mention this because I recently realized that this apparently isn’t the most popular take on Telltale’s Joker and a good portion of people still think he’s the main mastermind and has Harley wrapped around his finger. To each their own.

Word count: 1999 (2001 before editing; longer than what I usually write, woo)

Summary: You’ve been close friends with John for a while now, but have grown tired of his blind affections for people didn’t seem to think nearly as highly of him. During another late night of listening to him fawn over Harley and Bruce, you end up deciding to confront him--and corner yourself into confessing your own feelings for him in the process.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse (nothing too graphic), a bit of a cliffhanger? (I might make a sequel if people are interested); I started this months ago and just continued/finished it at three am this morning, so while I did edit it and al that jazz, there may still be the occasional grammar error and choppy writing. That being said, I did also try to write it in a way that felt lengthy and breathless and jumpy? I guess? In hopes of portraying how the reader was feeling and the way their brain was buzzing out of nervousness. Lemme know how I did.

Like what I do? Leave me a tip!

~~~~~

You sat crouched against the wall of John Doe’s scrappy home within the warehouse hideout of the criminal group he’d decided to attach himself to, a scowl etched into your features as you watched him flamboyantly pace around. Seeing him so happy would normally make you happy too, and if he wasn’t talking about the two most manipulative people in his life like they were gods, you would have been. Unfortunately, though, Harley and Bruce were the ones bringing that adorable grin to his face, so you sat unenthusiastically nursing the drink John had provided and stewing in a mental pool of God, I wish that were me.

Then, against your better judgement, you decided to do something about it.

“Hey, Johnny.” You placed your drink down with a hard clink against the concrete floor and glanced up at the man, who had stopped his affectionate rambling with an embarrassed grin; god, you loved that grin. Most people found it unnerving, saying that paired with his paper pale skin it made John look like the living dead--or a clown if they were a crackhead. You, however, found it fitting for him, a strangely cute smile for a strangely cute man. You just wished you were the cause of it more often.

You also wished that what you were going to say wouldn’t result in an argument but you knew it probably would anyway. Shaking aside your butterfly-stirring thoughts and grumbling--partially in case Harley or her criminal buddies were still wandering around the warehouse at this hour, mainly because you’d almost immediately lost all the confidence you had about five seconds ago--you repeated, “Hey, Johnny--”

“Hey, [Y/N/N],” John chirped back, relaxing enough to take a seat on an overturned crate across from you. Curiosity and a bit of confusion sparkled in his green-gray eyes, and his head was tilted slightly to the side. He looked like a puppy; a sweet, dorky, green-haired, white-skinned, horribly lost puppy. One of those pretty soft eyes was still purple-black and partially swollen shut, a punishment from Harley Quinn herself after John had gotten a little too excited and caused a mission earlier today to turn sour. Better than getting a bullet through the eye instead, though that thought didn’t make you feel much better about it.

Still, he smiled, shining like a ray of sun in the dark chaos that was Gotham these days. Still, he fawned over Harley and treated her like a queen. 

The idea of it made you want to hurl. You could almost feel the frown lines etching themselves into your skin. 

“Why do you like either of them?” you blurted, louder than you had meant to and apparently cutting John off from speaking at the same time; his lips had parted and one of his hands had risen just as words were pouring from your own mouth.

John’s response was a blink, then a chuckle, then that rubbing of the back of his neck that he did when he was flustered. He’d blush if he could, but he couldn’t so he started talking instead. “Well, as I was saying--”

You winced at the slow way he’d said ‘saying,’ like he was annoyed that you’d prevented him from continuing his love-struck rant about a couple of bullies. “You know what I mean, John. I don’t want you to go off on another tangent. We’ve talked about this before.”

It’s true. Despite your unwillingness, this wasn’t the first time you’d gotten enough courage to call John out on his self-destructive bullshit. You’d initially joined The Pact because you had had nowhere else to go at the time, a Gotham newbie with no money but with an attitude and a penchant for eavesdropping and minor pickpocketing--the key was to return the wallet from the person you’d taken it from, acting like they’d dropped it during you bumping into them; everyone in Gotham was too busy to check if anything was missing right then, and you were bland enough in appearance to have basically disappeared and been forgotten by the time they’d noticed. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you might even be mistaken for a homeless ragamuffin and given more money than what you stole from a particularly sympathetic victim.

By the time you’d impressed Harley enough to join her squad of crazy, saving you from sleeping at bus stops and bathing in sinks at gas stations, John Doe was showing up with his friend. His friend Bruce Wayne, AKA Batman--it wasn’t difficult to figure out who the man behind the mask was, if you were really looking; the fact was that no one in Gotham really wanted to ruin the illusion--who you soon realized wasn’t really a friend at all. Like Harley, Bruce used John as pawn at every turn, and you, who had made friends with the lively man pretty easily, couldn’t stand it; you’d quickly learned that John was brilliantly clever, entertaining, had a very intriguing set of gray morals, and was almost completely unaware of the poor treatment he was receiving. After a few weeks of enduring the irritation of watching two mightier-than-thou Gothamites treating your friend like a doormat with the intelligence of a box of rocks, and in some cases saving him from and nursing him back to health after suffering Harley’s wrath, you decided to put on your adult pants and deal with the problem head on: showing John what he was avoiding seeing and hoping to whatever being of high power that he believed you.

At some point among the many high-energy, zany moments you’d experienced with John, but more likely during one of the few gentler, more caring ones, you had caught feelings for the bizarre but lovely man. This realization had you further searching for shooting stars, tossing pennies into fountains, praying, doing whatever else you thought may help every time you every time you considered talking with him about his toxic loved ones. Silently begging that he wouldn’t get so upset with you that he’d decide to completely cut ties with you, or worse--tell Harley what you’d been trying to do, most likely resulting in your corpse being thrown off a Gotham pier. 

Now John sat across from you, his long-fingered hands fiddling with each other and his purple-shoed foot tapping and his pale gaze shifting to look anywhere but at you as he considered what to say. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to explain his love for an abuser and a manipulator without losing the one person who never seemed to grow tired of him.

“[Y/N],” he finally drawled, hesitant, then with a chuckle, “I know you don’t like them but they’re great guys, really; you just need to give them a chance. Harls? She can be real sweet, as long as you stay on her good side and do what she says. And Bruce! Sure, he’s a little grumbly around the edges but--”

“John,” you cried softly, desperately, and rose to your feet. In a few steps you were right in front of him, kneeling and gently pressing a hand to the side of his face that was still bruised. Your face was twisted in pain, none felt for yourself, as you brushed a hand over the surprisingly cool but still puffy skin under his black eye; you looked directly into it, a half moon of silvery green almost hidden by purple flesh, as you continued, “Bruce is a rich boy with a hero complex doing whatever he needs to do and screwing over people he doesn’t think matters in order to finish a mission. Harley Quinn is a menace. She would have smashed your head in if I hadn’t distracted her with new mission plans; that wasn’t even twenty-four hours ago! The bruises from her almost strangling you because you went out to the carnival with me without telling her are just now beginning to fade. I didn’t get a punishment like that, and you know why? Because she thinks I’m useful and she thinks you’re a toy that she can play with and then throw away whenever she wants. She knows you worship the ground she walks on, but I’ve seen you noticing that you don’t deserve the treatment she’s dealing out. People who love you don’t treat you like that, John. Bruce and Harley don’t care about you. They don’t love you. They’re not even your friends.”

Emotionally exhausted and scared that you had crossed a line you shouldn’t have, you ended your speech with a slow breath. You took a moment to look away, shake off the feeling of your eyes burning. You only looked back at John when you felt his cold hand on yours, felt his face lean into your warm palm.

The green-ette who was all limbs and jawline--he looked more like a deer in headlights than a curious puppy now--was watching you, his eyes wide and conflicted. He seemed to be struggling to say something again; you could feel his hands quivering and see him chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. Then he blinked, pressed his cheek more securely into your hand, and asked in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use, “Do you?”

You grew more flustered and confused the longer the moment stretched on, and it was your turn to tilt your head slightly. “Do I…?”

“You said they don’t love me,” John clarified, and you felt your mouth go dry. “You said people who love me don’t treat me like that. You’ve never treated me like that.” 

Attempting to bring moisture back to your mouth in order to protest, to deny the truths John was claiming, only resulted in what you assumed was pretty unattractive grumble and cough. Not that you thought John would care; you knew he wouldn’t. You did, however, realize that talking was futile, so you took a moment to think of the next best thing. Just as John began to start a new thought again, just as doubt began to blossom in his eyes, you decided to throw all caution to the wind and kiss him.

A small kiss. A very slight brush of the lips. And not on his lips, but right in the center of his forehead.

There was a moment of silence, another excruciatingly long one that briefly made you feel like you were having a heart attack, until you felt the brush of eyelashes on your jaw when John blinked once again.

“That’s not a real kiss.”

You could help bark a short laugh at the pouty tone your friend’s--friend?--voice had. You began to sit back on your heels, apologizing more about the fact that you had kissed John at all than because he’d considered the kiss ‘fake.’ Before you could pull away fully, however, you felt chilly hands make their way from your arm to your shoulder, then to your neck and jaw, pulling you closer. You hadn’t noticed that you had closed your eyes until you opened them again, and then inhaled sharply. You saw the look on John’s face, something new and breathtaking and lacking any of the sadness or doubt that was usually there lately, and smelled a faint cologne all around you--did he always wear that?--and finally felt his breath on your lips when he spoke again. 

“It’s okay,” he said, responding to your apology. Pulling you ever closer--you could brush noses and lips now, and even though you felt your eyes flutter shut again but could still see that face behind your lids--he continued, “I’ll do it.”

You weren’t sure, as John’s lips met yours, where this kiss would take you or where the man’s thoughts were at. All you did know was that your doubts of having a chance with John flew right out the window at you leaned into his touch, and that if Harley wanted a fight for him, you’d give her a war.

[zayashmaya]

Gamzee x Reader; SFW

You win a prize for Gamzee at a carnival. 

@compositecreature i dedicate this to u and our brainstorming sessions 

The starry night sky was all aglow with an endless sea of neon-lit stalls and a giant ferris wheel dominating the coastline. The boardwalk you currently strolled through with Gamzee was packed with people, creating a never-ending path of obstacles to maneuver around as you gripped his hand so you would not lose each other. You had just gotten off a particularly terrifying roller coaster, and you decided a nice, relaxing walk was needed to calm your nerves.

Except hanging out with Gamzee was always a crazy ride in of itself. You could never predict his strange moods or what excited him. The carnival trip was intended to lift his spirits and make him feel more at ease, yet at certain moments when he thought you were not paying attention, you could see his ever-present smile fall as he stared at the scenery before him.

This was a response you somewhat anticipated, and you certainly knew he would hide this side of him from you. Gamzee never liked to reminisce on the past, after all, always bottling up the unpleasant and throwing them out into the sea of his endless thoughts. You were working on that with him. Once in a while, he would humor you, reaching out for a bottle and popping it open for a quick gander. He didn’t always like what was inside.

You squeezed his hand to get his attention, and as quick as lightening that dopey smile returned when he looked down at you. “WhAt’S cOoKiNg AlL uP iN tHe AgEnDa FoR uS, mY gOoD sIs?”

“That depends on you,” you said. “I’ve been doing a lot of the leading so far. What do you wanna do?”

“I dIdN’t GeT mY tHiNk On MuCh FoR sOmE sUcH oPtIoNs, WhAt WiTh ThIs AlL bEiNg A hUmAn ThInG. aIn’T nOtHiN hErE mAkIn MuCh SeNsE. lIkE tHaT wEiRd MoThErFuCkEr — “ He pointed to what initially seemed like a silver statue, until the performer moved ever so slowly to change his pose while onlookers took photos. “WhAt ThE mOtHeRfUcK iS tHaT nOiSe? aIn’T nEvEr SeEn SuCh ShIt In My LiFe. ThAt BrOtHeR’s GoT hIs PaInT aLl Up AnD oN lIKe Me AnD pEoPlE aRe MakInG sTrAiGhT fOoLeRy OvEr HiM wItH aLl ThE pIcTuReTaKiNg."

You spent a good minute laughing at his genuine confusion as Gamzee glared at his source of discontentment. “I guess they didn’t have buskers on your planet?”

“NoT aNy ThAt gOt ThE mOtHeRfUcKiN gUmPtIoN tO bE mOcKiNg A mEsSiAhS-fEaRiN cLoWn.”

“This is just performance art, Gamzee. I promise he has no idea what the Messiahs even are.” You tugged on his hand to lead him away, offering him a bite of your cotton candy to appease him. He promptly devoured the sugary dessert, licking away the stickiness from his teeth. You eyes lingered on the motion for a little too long, and you quickly busied yourself with finding a new attraction.

The passivity of sitting in rides had lost its charm. It was time for something a little more active.

Your eyes settled on an old arch nemesis from your childhood — the water gun race. The stall’s cheery glowing lights and hoard of prizes mocked you, beckoning you onward as you set course for the game with renewed vigor. Gamzee obediently trailed after you, refusing to release his hold on your hand even as you sped in front of him. “WhAt’S gOt A fIrE lIt AlL uP aNd UnDeR yOu, SuGaR bUtT?”

You froze, a laugh rising out of you so fast you nearly choked on it. ”What did you call me?”

He smirked cheekily. “gOnNa KeEp EaTiNg aLl ThE wIcKeD pInK cLoUdS, gOnNa GeT hIt At WiTh sOmE sIcKnAsTy NiCkNaMeS.”

“Is that your way of telling me you want more?”

“hAhA yEaH bAbY pAsS tHaT gOoD sHiT rIgHt On OvEr HeRe.”

Gamzee effortlessly plucked the cotton candy cone from you after a very quick and one-sided skirmish, swinging his arm across your shoulders and patting your head condescendingly as he happily reaped the spoils of war. You poked his ribs in retaliation. “We’re gonna change things up a bit,” you explained, pointing to the stall. “Fancy a game with me?”

“Oh DaMn, YoU wAnNa GeT yOuR cHaLlEnGe On WiTh ThIs MoThErFuCkEr?” He leered down at you. “BeTtEr SqUaRe Up ReAl GoOd My FuNkY MoNkEy PoO, cAuSe YoU’rE gOnNa LoSe.”

“You’re really going all out with the nicknames tonight,” you snickered.

“OnE oF uS hAs GoTtA aLl uP aNd Do It, SiNcE yOu’Re A dRy AsS mOfO :o) "

“Oooh? Don’t be so sure of that, buggy boo.”

Gamzee's cocky grin faltered, and the tips of his ears flushed purple. He removed his arm from your shoulders, and you momentarily felt the loss before he took your hand once more and led you to the game stall.

Three children were preoccupied with aiming into the mouths of the clown targets, their freakishly gaping maws twisted up into mocking smiles. Gamzee took one look at the array of heads lined up against the wall and glanced at you with an incredulous expression. “yO tHeY gOt MoRe Of ThOsE pAiNtEd Up MoThErFuCkErS?”

“Yeah!” You sat on one of the stools, and Gamzee followed suit. “You have to shoot water into their mouths to fill up the balloons on their heads and make them explode. First person who does it gets a prize."

“hAhAhAhA wHaT tHe FuCk … “

While the booth operator collected money from you for the next round, Gamzee aimed his water gun with dramatic concentration, his tongue sticking out as he waited for the game to begin. You giggled quietly to yourself and positioned your gun, droning out the sound of the operator explaining how to play. This was your moment. You were finally going to win this stupid game, and claim a prize.

As soon as the bell rang, your water stream miraculously hit its target. You were too focused on keeping your position locked in place to listen to Gamzee curse and fumble with his gun, and you were trying your damnedest not to laugh as his water stream somehow wobbled like a snake in midair and completely missed its mark.

“ThIs ShIt iS sTrAiGhT uP oFfEnSiVeLy RiGgEd!”

“Don’t curse, there’s kids around,” you quipped back, and with the triumphant pop of your chosen clown’s balloon, you threw your arms up into the air and shouted, “Hell yes, motherfucker!”

The operator threw you an unamused look while you excitedly scanned the selection of stuffed toys.

And then you saw it. The perfect gift.

A lavender colored monkey with ridiculously long arms, and velcro stuck on the palms of its hands.

Gamzee chuckled at your choice as you hugged it tightly to your chest, trailing on after you as you continued to explore the carnival. “I’ve never won that game before,” you wistfully said, running your fingers through the incredibly soft fur of the plushie.

“DaNg, HoW’s A bRoThEr SuPpOsEd tO gEt HiS wIn On WhEn FaCeD wItH sOmE sUcH dEtErMiNaTiOn?”

“You never stood a chance,” you teased, and he pinched your cheek in retaliation. “It wasn’t so much about winning for my sake as it was about winning a prize for you.”

“FoR mE, bAbE?”

“Yep!” You stepped in front of him and wrapped the monkey’s arms around his neck, clasping its hands together to make them hold. Gamzee wordlessly held the plushie to his chest, staring down at it with an inscrutable expression. “It’s for your nightmares. Since I’m not always around, I figured maybe this could help you. You know. Like you could hold onto the motherfucker and all that jazz.”

He blinked at you, stupefied and unsure of how to react. You smiled warmly and made to move away, but he grasped your upper arm before you could turn. The monkey’s silly grin accosted your eyes as Gamzee leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “tHaNkS,” he shyly murmured, and when your eyes met, you suddenly realized how close he was to your face. To your lips.

It could have been either one of you who made the first move. One way or another, you found yourself on your tiptoes and a hand curled into Gamzee’s shirt, his arm looped around your waist and the stuffed animal between you keeping you both from melting into each other.

Whatever you had expected your first kiss with Gamzee to be like was nothing like this. His lips were cool and smooth, moving gently against yours without a hint of teeth. Your tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip before the shriek of a child jolted you back into awareness — shit we’re still in public — and you reluctantly pulled away, your heart hammering in your chest and your cheeks flushed. Gamzee searched your face as he reached out to caress your cheek, the predatory look in his eyes a stark contrast to his boyish smile.

“Your mouth still tastes like cotton candy,” you blurted out.

“tHaT’s CuZ yOu’Re AlL tHiNkIn LiKe WiTh YoUr StOmAcH aNd NoT yOuR bRaIn. BuT yOu BeTtEr StArT tHiNkIn WiTh YoUr HeArT iF yOu WaNt MoRe Of ThAt TaStE.”

You hid your face in his chest while he chuckled. “You’re so corny,” you said, your words muffled by his shirt.

“yEaH i Am, GoT mE aLl StIfF lIkE a MoThAfUcKiN cOrN-oN-ThE-SlObBeRiN-cOb BeInG aLl CuTe AnD pReSsEd Up AgAiNsT mE aLl SuCh.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist being crass for a moment longer.”

“HaHaHa YoU kNoW iT, mY sWeEt SpAcE mOnKeY.”

“Stop teasing me, you … silly … stevia … “

“wEaK sAuCe.”

You planted a kiss on his grinning mouth to shut him up.

[mhdiaries]

Journal of Jackson Jekyll

Yes, I do mind if you read my journal.

On September 9...

So it turns out I’m a monster. Well part-time monster actually, which leaves me pretty much full-time confused. It’s not like I didn’t know that mom and dad were both monsters. The first time I saw mom’s Hyde side come out was when I was 5 and we were visiting my dad’s side of the family. Some of the little neighborhood monsters decided that they were going to play “kick the can” only they were going to use me as the can. Every time I tried to run home they blocked my way and pushed me down. I started crying and then they really started making fun of me. Then all of a sudden I heard this roar and there was my mom. Even though it didn’t look like her I knew it was and honestly all I could think was, “Why mother, what big muscles you have.” Needless to say I never had any problem with the local monsters again. Dad’s a fire elemental of course and I grew up playing with Heath so I was never afraid of monsters. I just didn’t think any monster heritage had passed on to me. When I asked mom and dad if they knew me and Holt were the same person they said, “Of course we knew you and Holt were the same person - we’re your parents; now finish your breakfast or you’ll be late for school.” Well thanks for clearing that up for me mom and dad. Cause you know it’s not like having that little bit of information would have been helpful at all. Good thing I’m past those awkward teenage years where news like this could really have a negative impact on my psyche. (Ooh - sarcasm. I like it) HH

On September 12...

I had to go to the mad scientist, I mean mad pediatrician, today. Mom says that until I’m an adult I need to continue seeing him because he has the most experience dealing with growing monsters. I feel fine but mom and dad are worried because what triggers my transformation to Holt has changed. It used to happen when the sun went down but now it seems to be loud music, I think. The waiting room was almost empty except for a mother werewolf and two young cubs. While mom filled out paperwork I sat down and tried to find something to read that wasn’t chewed, gooed or covered in monster germs. Then I heard one of the werewolf cubs say, “Mommy! Is that a normie?” “Yes honey, don’t stare.” “Is he going to eat us?” I could tell that she was embarrassed so I said, “No way - I’m totally allergic to werewolf it makes me sneeze - ACHOO!” The cubs eyes got really wide and then she started laughing, “Aw that’s not true.” Then she held up her foot and said, “I can tie my shoe!” I said, “That’s amazing, can you show me how?” The werewolf mom relaxed too and it turns out she’s related to Clawd’s family. Pretty soon a lab assistant appeared, “Jackson Jekyll?” She led us back to a room and said, “The doctor will be with you shortly.” Then, “The wait.” Which means sitting on the crinkly paper covered exam table forever and wondering what would happen if I started playing with the instruments in the exam room and the doctor walked in. Anyway just about the time I woke up enough boredom and courage to start picking up some of the cooler looking instruments laying on the counter I hear the mad pediatrician pulling my chart and the door opens. He’s wearing a lab coat with purple vampire ducks and his stethoscope cover is a fuzzy yellow dragonhead. I’m sure it calms the younger monsters but it scares the normie out of me that the volatile nature of my elemental side + my hyde heritage + being a teenager = constant change. He said that the trigger would probably change again before I reach adulthood. Then he gave me a lollypop, scheduled me for another test and said he wanted to see me again in three months. Now I’m worried about what the trigger is going to change to next. What if it’s showers? Would it be worth giving them up for the rest of high school just so I can have my own life? (Not unless you want your new nickname to be “Stinky”) HH 

On September 21... 

It seems like I spent the first part of my life wishing I was a monster and now that I am maybe now I wish I wasn’t. (Well you’re stuck with it now.) HH When I was spending all that time trying to get Draculaura to bit me so I could become a vampire I never really thought about anything except wanting to fit in with all the other monsters. Now the part of me that fits in doesn’t even get to enjoy it.(Whine much?) HH It’s like the worst of both worlds and now I don’t fit in anywhere at all. We’re all supposed to meet with Mr. D’eath, the school guidance counselor, this week. Wonder if I’ll need to make two appointments (Lame - I already know what I’m going to be... FAMOUS!) HH

On September 23...

So I had my appointment with Mr. D’eath today it started out  about as terrible as I thought it was going to be. Turns out he’d never counseled a “normie” and it seemed like he didn’t know exactly what to say. In fact, he mostly just spent a lot of time squeezing one of those stress balls made to look like a cartoon character with eyes that bugged out when you squeezed it. It was pretty distracting especially when I realized it was a cartoon “normie”. The squeezing wasn’t nearly as distracting as his “throat clearing” which kind of sounded like a hand full of marbles being run through a garbage disposal. I kept trying to figure out how he made that noise because he doesn’t really even have a throat since as far as I can tell he’s pure skeleton. He must have flipped through my permanent record ten times before he finally said: So you see Hackson... I mean Jackson, the career opportunities for normies in the monster world are somewhat er... um... (sound of marbles being run through the disposal again) limited. There’s monster hunter, monster hunter’s assistant, mad scientist, ooh hunchback! You don’t happen to have a hump do you? No? Bad luck there then. Ah hah! How about Monster/Normie Relations Expert? (Figured it’d be something where the wardrobe is even less cool than what you wear now) HH Well that was something I certainly knew a little something about. I had an old coach in the normie world that used to always say, “Play to your strengths Jackson, play to your strengths.” So Mr. D’eath loaded me down with college brochures and rushed me out of his office. I think both of us were glad it was over. 

On October 8...

Finally took that test my mad pediatrician set up for me. It turned out to be a test to determine the type and volume of music that brings out Holt. So I sat in a soundproof booth wearing headphones while a technician played music at different volumes and with different time signatures. I made it through waltzes, marches, polka and chamber music but I don’t remember what he played next. (That’s when he started playing the good stuff.) HH Anyway the results of the test isolated the trigger; music with a 4/4 time signature played in excess of 90 decibels. You know what’s good about this? Me neither.

On November 2...

It seems now that every monster knows Holt and me are the “same” person/monster I don’t get hassled as much for being a “normie”. Not that it makes any difference to Manny Taur since he pretty much wants to bully down on any creature who’s smaller than he is. When he first started picking on me I stood up to him cause once a bully knows he can push you around he’ll never stop, but Deuce finally took me aside and said, “Listen bro - you’ve won a lot of respect standing up to Manny and don’t take this the wrong way but...” Apparently Manny was waiting for the right time to mash me like a slow matador. I kept waiting for it to happen but it never did. In fact it seemed like Manny was purposely avoiding me for some reason. It was almost like some monster had said something to him. (Yeah - wonder who that could have been?) HH

On November 15... 

Headless Headmistress Bloodgood asked for “volunteers” to help with the middle school carnival fundraiser so Deuce and I volunteered for set up and take down duty. It was cool and we didn’t have to dress up like clowns or sit in the dunk tank. We set up tents, carried boxes then hung out and waited for everything to be over. We checked out some of the other booths too cause we had plenty of time to kill. Venus and Draculaura were doing face painting; Rochelle was teaching monsters how to build sand castles, some of which would have looked pretty good if they hadn’t been built next to Rochelle’s sand cathedra with working bell tower and miniature gargoyles. The best though was the stunt Robecca performed. She flew over the carnival a couple of times to get every monster’s attention then flew straight up until it sounded like her rocket boots stalled and she came streaking back toward the ground like a falling star. A huge gasp went up from the crowd as it looked like she was going to crash then she fired her rockets back up and totally buzzed the crowd less than 20 feet off the ground! It was so awesome I actually gave Holt a chance to see her second performance. (Thanks dude - it was totally rockin’ and I would have been bummed if I didn’t get to see it) HH When the carnival was over we helped take everything down and all the volunteers went to hang out at the Coffin Bean. It was dark by then and I would have missed out on that part of the fun if things were the same as they used to be. Still hoping I won’t have to give up showers someday though. (That makes both of us “Stinky”) HH

[rachel-rebellio]

"I'm gonna be there to protect you."

sebastian stan oneshot that i wrote based off a dream i had

100% straight up fluff

"Come on! You gotta come in with us! It'll be less scary if we're in a group!" your friend, Sami, says trying to persuade you into going through the haunted house that her and Megan had somehow dragged you to.

"No thanks, I'm good. You guys go have fun!" you say trying your best to stay calm.

"Are you sure? We don't wanna just leave you out here by yourself." Megan asks, giving it one last shot.

"No, seriously, I'm okay. I promise you my anxiety would be way worse in there than it'll be out here. It's nice out so I'll just chill on the grass over there." you say, pointing to a patch of undecorated grass on the side of the house.

"Okaaay, if you're sure! we'll see you on the other side!" Sami says as she grabs Megan's hand and runs inside the house, disappearing behind a black-out curtain.

You take a big sigh of relief. You really weren't sure if they were going to let you get out of this one. You pull your phone out to see no notifications; who would be texting you anyways when Sami and Megan were with you? Putting your phone back in your pocket you walk over to the side of the house and sink down against the wall until you're sitting on the grass. Folding your legs under yourself, you pull out the book you've been reading, "We Need to Talk About Kevin" by Lionel Shriver.

A few minutes go by and you're suddenly pulled from the story by a strangely familiar voice, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I jus-" you start to say as you look up and instantly recognize those blue eyes. You shake your head realizing you must have gone crazy. It couldn't really be Sebastian, could it? Why would he be at some dumb haunted house in the middle of LA?

"Doll?"

"What? Oh, right, yeah I'm okay. My friends are inside; I'm just waiting for them."

"Your friends went in without you?"

"Yeah, this isn't really my thing. I love Halloween and horror movies and everything, but my anxiety can't handle jump scares. Especially ones in real life."

"That's understandable," he says sitting down in the grass next to you. "i'm Sebastian by the way."

"I- I'm y/n" you say, stumbling over your words as you realize what's happening.

"It's nice to meet you, y/n."

"So, you know my story. How come you're by yourself?"

"I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to see what was around. I was walking around and heard the music so I decided to come check it out." he says smiling and licking his lips, the way you'd seen him do a million times in videos and gifs. "So, your anxiety is pretty bad with this stuff?"

"Yeah, haha. I tried going through a dumb haunted jail with my family and ended up having a panic attack and leaving through an emergency exit. They talked me into coming because i wanted to face my fears, but I totally chickened out. I hope they're having fun though."

"Wait, so you wanted to go in but backed out at the last second?" he asks with a confused yet confident face. He smirks like he had an idea which makes you give him a face that says, "what are you thinking?" for you.

Suddenly he stands to his feet and holds out his hand in front of you.

"What?" you ask.

"Come on. You're gonna face your fears doll; and I'm gonna be there to protect you."

You look down at your book that's now sitting on your thigh.

"I don't know, I was pretty enveloped in this book." you say, giving him a smirk of your own. He licks/bites his lips again and says, "Now you're chickening out on me doll? Come on, I've got you." His words are somehow so reassuring. The next thing you know, you take his hand and follow him around to the front door. You put your book back in your bag and look at him nervously.

"You've got this doll, I'll make sure you're safe." Sebastian says, wrapping an arm around your midriff. You nod and he leads you inside.

As soon as you step behind the curtain there is a hallway painted with and black and white spiral and a strobe light flashes up above your head. There is carnival music playing and you instantly feel your breathing speed up as your heart rate races to match. You look around nervously and quickly turn your head towards Sebastian who is leading the way in front of you. You quickly catch up to him and wrap your arm around his arm. The two of you come up to a door at the end of the hallway and Sebastian looks at you. You nod for him to open the door. As soon as the door opens a clown jumps out and pops a balloon in front of you. You scream and yell, "NOPE!" as you turn to go back through the door, but Sebastian catches your arm.

"I've got you doll, you're safe. You can do this."

You stand there for a moment, the door in front of you, Sebastian next to you with a sweet smile on his face. You seriously consider the possibility of just walking right back out of the house and not looking back, but part of you says that you've already come this far. You turn to Sebastian and say, "Whatever you do, don't leave me, and don't let me leave."

"You got it." he says with a subtle wink. He grabs both of your shoulders and turns you toward the rest of the room until he feels you take a deep breath. You wrap your arms back around his and he reaches up to hold your hand. The two of you cautiously walk through the rest of the room, relieved that there were no other clowns in the room. You start to relax a bit as you recognize the song from Midnight Syndicate's carnevil album. You come up to the next door and this time you reach out to open it.

It opens to a dark room apart from a box in the middle of it lit up with a blacklight. "Lets go open it." Sebastian says. You turn to look at him like he's the craziest person alive.

"What, I'm curious! Let's go see what's in it."

"Let's not." you say, your nervous smile spread wide.

"Come on, I'm right here. Nothing bad will happen." he says as he confidently walks over to the box. As he gets to the box he looks at you and motions for you to come over. You sigh and walk over to him, grabbing his out stretched hand. He starts to open the box and reveals a note at the bottom of the box. You reach your hand in to grab the note so you could read it better, but as you do another clown appears behind it and shuts the box with your hand in it, laughing maniacally. You scream and Sebastian pulls your hand out of the box and pulls you behind him to shield you from the clown. You put your hands on either side of your face and hide your face in his back as he firmly grips your hips behind him and leads you out of the room and into the next.

This room is brightly lit with balloons and streamers, as if decorated for a birthday, but there is blood spatter on everything. You see movement behind one of the cutouts and tense up, grabbing Sebastians hand again. He pulls you in front of him so your back is to him and wraps his arms around you in a protective hug. It suddenly hits you and you remember who you're with. Your face flushes red with embarrassment because you definitely know who he is, but you don't want this to end. The two of you start walking around, with you leading, and three clowns pop out from behind things. One right after the other, almost chasing you out of the room as they held different weapons. You grab Sebastian's hand and pull him into another door that led outside.

Outside there is a maze and a sign that simply says, "You mught want to run." As you finish reading the line out-loud in a confused tone, you hear the laughter. This time, Sebastian takes your hand saying, "Let's do this thing doll!" as he starts running through the maze, pulling you along side him. As you run, clowns jump out at you at wrong turns and wave miscellaneous weapons around as you take off in the other direction. You're relieved that Sebastian seems to have a good sense of direction because you're disoriented and lost. But you know that as long as you hold his hand, you'll be okay.

Eventually you come to a gate that says, "You lived?!"

Sebastian opens the gate and you're back on the side of the house that you were originally sitting at.

"Oh my God! I did it! I made it through!" you exclaim, ecstatic that you were able to face your fears.

"You did it! I'm so proud of you!" Sebastian says happily as he wraps you in a tight, celebratory hug. You giggle as your cheeks flush red.

Then your phone rings. You pull it out of your pocket and see that it's Sami and you have three missed calls.

"Hey! Hi, sorry. I ended up going in! I DID IT!" you practically yell into the phone.

"You what?!" Sami and Megan both yell into the phone.

"Yeah! I had some help." you say, smiling at Sebastian who's standing in front of you with a proud smile on his face.

"Well, where are you? We're out front."

"I'm over on the side, I'll come find you guys."

"Okay, awesome." Sami says hanging up.

"My friends are out front, do you wanna come meet them? We were gonna go get some drinks too if you wanted to come too." You say as you see Sebastian looking at your phone case. You think for a second before remembering you have your Winter Soldier phone case on. He smiles and says, "So, you did know who I was."

"Yeah, but this was really cool." you say through a nervous smile.

"So, you said something about drinks?"

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 11

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,” Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word Count: 1.9k

The Future

“DADDY!” she leapt into his arms and he hugged her so tightly that she squirmed and giggled, “Daddy you’re squeezing me too tight!” he let her go slightly and kissed her several times on the head.

“Sorry sweetheart, I just missed you, a whole lot,”

“I missed you too Daddy,” she let go and he did as well, rather reluctantly.

“I’m just going to talk to your mom sweetheart, don’t go anywhere, alright?” he smiled and brushed her hair from her face.

“Alright Daddy,” she grinned and watched as Nathan walked away to her mot her standing a few feet away.

 “I’m taking her out so don’t try and come back and insist that there’s something important with you and Chet so that you can take her, this is my weekend with her and I intend to spend every minute I can with her,” he said with an air of confidence that he himself was surprised at.

“Nathan you can’t just-”

“She’s my daughter too, I have the right to see her,” he strode to his daughter and scooped her into his metal arm and grabbed her packed bags with the other.

“Yay weekend with Daddy!” she cheered, he smiled as he flung the bags over his shoulder and opened the door before slamming it behind him.

                                                          * * *

  Present Day

“Jesus Christ!” she placed her hand on her chest as Nathan popped into the room unexpectedly, a small girl and bags in his arms.

“Hope, this is a friend of mine, Hades,” he said as he lowered her to the floor.

She stared up at Hayden with excitement, “That’s such a cool name! My Daddy told me you’re taking us to a carnival, we heard about them in school, are they really fun?”

“Um…” Hayden looked dumbfounded as she stared at Hope.

“Hope sweetheart, why don’t you go have a seat over there for me, I’ll join you just now,” he pointed to the couches.

“Okay Daddy,” she bounded off and hopped onto the nearest couch.

 “Wow, a kid. She’s, wow. Yours,” Hayden couldn’t formulate full sentences.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he smiled.

“I- yeah, me taking carnival?” she said stupidly as she looked over at Hope and then back at Nathan.

“Yeah- I was actually meaning to ask if you could come with us, I have no idea what’s good or not at a carnival, and having someone who is more socially appropriate around will make things easier for me,” he said sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

“I-” she shook her head, “Yeah I’d love to,” which made Nathan smile again, “but one condition, I’m bringing Wade along as well.” She said, Nathan sighed. “But only because he’s going to whine worse than an actual child about not going to a carnival, he loves them,”

“Fine, just keep him in check and make sure that trap of his doesn’t curse around my little girl, and we have a deal,”

“Deal,” she stuck out her hand and they shook in agreement.

                                                               * * *

 “I still don’t see why you brought me along on your date; we can go to the carnival anytime we want,”

Hayden elbowed Wade in the ribs, “It’s not a date idiot; his daughter is here too,”

“That’s exactly why it is a date my Dear Hayden- Hades,” he corrected himself as she gave him a look, “Single parents have to take their kids with them on dates to see if the relationship that they want to get into has potential depending on how well they get along with the kid,”

“That’s crap, you so made that up right now,”

“It’s so not!”

“Hey, are you two coming or what?” Nathan called to them, his daughter Hope standing at his side and holding his hand, she was looking all around her trying to take the colourful scenery in.

“Cool your jets old man we’re coming,” Wade said as he walked through the entrance.

 Hayden stared up at the entrance banner, it was bright and colourful and inviting, and she turned her gaze to the crowds and took in the scene before her. It was noisy and busy, something she would normally not walk straight into; however, today she was in good company and felt safer than she had been in a long time.

“Haydes?”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she smiled and walked to Wade, they caught up to Nathan and Hope, she was bouncing on the spot impatiently.

“So, where to first?” Nathan asked Hayden, she looked to Wade for help.

“Uh, why don’t we start over there and work our way around?” he pointed to a water themed booth.

“We’re following your lead,” Nathan said, Hope turned to see where Wade was pointing and immediately ran to the booth, Nathan moved to follow her with a worried expression on his face.

  Hope’s hands held the edge of the booth that was named as ‘Aqua Snipers’ and she peered over, the attendee smiled and leaned over to talk to her.

“Hope, don’t run away like that, there are too many people here, I don’t want to lose you.” Nathan chided.

“Daddy the man says that it’s five dollars to play one game,” she looked at him hopefully.

“Alright,” he pulled out a few crumpled notes from his pocket and placed it on the table, “How do we play?”

“Why it’s simple sir, all you have to do is aim this here plastic gun at the clown’s mouth over there, and once the balloon attached bursts you win,”

“Seems easy enough,” Nathan shrugged but Wade grabbed the money on the table.

“Hold on Carnie, what’s the catch?”

“No catch, just a two minute time limit,” he held his palm out.

“Hmm, fine,” Wade placed the money in his hand; the attendee closed it quickly and put the money in his tin, “Let’s kick some butt.”

                              They were each given a plastic gun that was attached to a water filled tank, Nathan showed Hope how to hold the toy properly and then the attendee started the game; the three of them were easily filling the balloon given their experience with guns. However, Hope was struggling to hold it with it being so heavy and shooting a strong spray of water, and the three of managed to pop their balloons while Hope’s balloon fizzled out.

She put the toy gun down and looked unhappily at the ground, Nathan quickly rubbed her backside and told her it was okay that she didn’t get it the first time, then he put more money on the table before showing her how to hold it steadier for her turn again. This time she won and she grinned happily.

“Thank you Daddy!” she giggled as she walked holding her new stuffed panda, the others each holding their own stuffed toy that they had won.

“Don’t thank me Hope, you did it all by yourself,” he ruffled her hair.

“I think my heart just grew three sizes,” Wade teased with a hand covering his heart, “And here I thought you were always a hard- butt. Hard-butt,”

Nathan grunted, “Nice save.”

Hayden smiled at seeing Nathan interact with Hope, Wade was right he normally was a bit of a hard ass but seeing this softer side of him, it made her feel at ease for some reason.

  They played the Basketball Bonanza next, the adults playing before Hope so that she could see how the game worked, when she tossed her first ball she missed by a great distance. Nathan didn’t want her to be discouraged so he lifted her up in his muscular arms; he winced briefly enough for Hayden to notice, with the added height she was able to score and won another stuffed animal prize.

After dominating the Ring Toss Extraordinaire with use of some super abilities and calculative cyborg vision, they defeated the Milk Bottle Slammers, Hope was overwhelmed with all the stuffed animals that she now had for her collection, and although she hadn’t been very good at the games herself she enjoyed watching the others play.

They seated themselves on the outskirts of the carnival that was made into a makeshift hay-bale farm style courtyard specifically for the food booths. Hope was attempting to suckle down on a large candy apple, Wade happily chewed down on his seventh chimichanga, Hayden opted for the classic caramel popcorn and Nathan settled for a corndog (after Wade insisted that it was a must-have for ten solid minutes).

 “So did you enjoy your first carnival?” Wade asked after swallowing another bite.

“It was awesome! The games were so fun and the people are so loud and everything is so fun in the past! I wish it was like this back home,” Hope said and gave her candy apple another lick.

“Oh, that’s nice Hope,” Wade looked down at Hope and then looked back up again, “but I was actually asking Haydes,”

Nathan turned to Hayden, “This was your first carnival too?”

“I- uh, yeah,”

“That’s why you brought Wade along, because you didn’t know what to do at carnivals.” He said in realisation.

“Well sue me for not having a normal childhood, I suggested it because Wade told me that one was coming to town and I, I just wanted to know what the big deal was,”

“And?” Nathan asked.

“With you two idiots and Hope, I could do it another hundred times over,”

“She’s a lot more fun than Mommy,” Hope said with a grin, “I like her.”

 “I like you too Hope,” she smiled down at the girl.

“Hope, it’s not nice to say mean things about your mother,” Wade chided making the other two turn their heads, “On the other hand your father-”

“Daddy is the best Daddy in the world, I could never say anything mean about him!” she seemed shocked by the very idea, “But Chet-”

“Who’s Chet?” Wade asked taking another bite of his snack.

“Chet is… my ex-wife’s new husband,” Nathan said with a hint of bitterness.

“You’re divorced?” Wade asked surprised, “The way you talked about her I- sorry man.”

“And I hate him,” Hope continued, crossing her arms. “He always sends me to my room so he can be alone with Mommy and the baby,”

“Hope-” Nathan started.

“No, let her talk it out,” Hayden said looking at Hope with full attention, “Hope?”

 “I feel like Mommy loves the baby more than me, it’s like she doesn’t want me anymore,”

“Sweetheart, your mother still loves you, they’re just excited that the baby is here,” Nathan assured her.

“But I’m here, they’re replacing me,” a tear fell down her cheek.

“No one could ever replace you,” Nathan touched her face gently, “Do you understand? A lot of attention is going to be towards the baby now that it’s here because it’s too small to take care of itself, not like you, you’re my big strong girl aren’t you?” he wiped away her tears.

“Yes,”

“Look at me,” he lifted her chin, “Your mother and I still love you, we just don’t love each other anymore, but just because we don’t love each other anymore doesn’t mean we’re leaving you behind, alright?”

Hayden felt unconvinced about Nathan not loving his ex-wife anymore as he had emphasised the ‘we’ a little too much for her liking.

“Alright Daddy,” she managed to smile.

“Aren’t you glad I suggested she talk it out?” Hayden asked smugly, “Hope, don’t be afraid of telling someone you trust how you’re feeling, alright? Sometimes it helps you to feel better,” she looked at Wade who smiled with a mouthful of chimichanga and nodded.

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>> Chapter 12 <<