#and that someone keeps parking on the grass and that's not allowed

[thefloatingstone]

Thinking about those teenagers who plan things like Big protest Events or who try and organise Big Boycotts or things of the like (like when my college wanted to protest the HOD changing midway through the year which didn't even actually affect us in any way but they wanted to protest it anyway for.... some reason?) and my brain offered the word

"Larval Karens"

and now I am just gonna have to be stuck with that term in my head forever now I guess.

Larval Karens.....

[differenteagletragedy]

Part Two of Simon Riley meeting a single mom at the park and going "that one, I want that one."

As much as Simon feels the persistent gnaw of want, he can’t pinpoint exactly why it’s there, and as the days since he met you drag on, he can’t figure out which is more frustrating — the wanting itself, or the fact that the reason behind it keeps eluding him.

Maybe it’s some biological impulse, that’s one thing he considers. Maybe it’s just a primal impulse drudged up by the sight of your belly and the helpless fear he’d heard in your voice that day. His rotten genes kicking around inside him, whispering to him that they want out.

Or it could be that you look like exactly the type he tends to go for when he allows himself the little indulgence of a pretty woman’s company. Present state aside, that is.

Regardless, he finds himself walking by the park nearly every day, scanning the area just in case he sees you or your little boy there again. He doubts he'd approach you again even if he did cross your path a second time, but even so, his aimless walks don't seem quite so aimless anymore.

It's not until one day, a few weeks after that first time, that he sees your somehow familiar form standing by one of the picnic tables. He'd thought you looked fit to burst the first time he saw you, but now you were somehow bigger still. Even from a distance, he can make out the sweat on your face, the wet bits of hair sticking to your forehead that show your overexertion, as if your rundown expression doesn't give it away.

You look absolutely miserable, and Simon pushes down whatever odd little instinct it is that makes him think about how much he'd like to kiss it all better.

Close by, safe on the ground this time, is your son, Charlie. He darts around the grass by the table while you unload a bag with snacks and drinks, your eyes firmly trained on him while you do it.

Simon walks slowly, trying to decide if it would be better to turn and go back the other way or to walk by as if he doesn't notice you -- he shouldn't notice you. If he did recognize you, it should only be in passing, a brief flicker of recognition that quickly passes, not ... whatever this is.

A small part of him, one that he'd never let see the light of day, considers the idea of approaching you.

The choice is taken away from him when Charlie spots him while doing spins in the grass. The little boy lets out a squeal, pointing directly at him, and begins bounding over.

"Charlie, for the love of --"

Then you look up and see him, and he can't be sure from the distance, but he thinks he sees the flicker of a smile.

He notices how you let yourself take your time a bit as you amble towards him, a small rush of pride going through him that you're not panicking over your child's safety as he runs in his direction. Charlie reaches him first, and he has to tilt his head nearly to his shoulders to look up at him.

"You were on the slide before."

"I was."

"You're too big for the slide."

"Wasn't there to slide."

By that point, you'd manage to waddle your way over, your hand going to rest on Charlie's shoulder as you look to Simon. You greet him, a quick "Hi," then look back down to your son.

"Let's not bother strangers, ok? Come on, we have a picnic."

"He's not a stranger," Charlie argues. "He was on the slide."

If Simon wasn't trying to keep his eyes off the drop of sweat that was trailing down by your collarbone, he would have taken a moment to properly appreciate the simplicity of the argument.

"Sorry," you say softly, glancing up at Simon again. "He's a friendly little thing."

"Quite all right."

"You want juice?"

He can't help but let out a chuckle at the kid's question -- he's never been much of a talker, and it seems like you might not be much of one either, but someone's putting in some effort.

"Mum made crackers too," Charlie adds. "You want some crackers?"

"I'm sure this man has more important things to do than have crackers and juice with us, don't you think?" you say.

But he doesn't. At this moment, he feels like he's never had anything more important to do.

There are a few more precocious little invites, along with some puppy dog eyes, and before he knows it, Simon is being led through a stretch of grass to a picnic table with you and your son.

The conversation is ... not great, honestly. You're either shy or guarded, maybe both, and Charlie isn't quite old enough to spark any kind of intelligent discussion. But he does enjoy the juice box the boy insists he takes, and he likes the strange warmth that spreads through his chest at the sight of you across from him at the table even more.

"Come watch me swing," Charlie demands after a bit. You shrug, apparently content with letting the child run the show at this point, and Simon lets out another deep chuckle, standing and hesitantly following you both to the swingset.

"Thanks for humoring him," you tell him quietly as you push your son on the swing.

"Not at all," he replies. "He's ..."

He trails off, not sure what he was even planning on saying. Sweet? Funny? They don't feel like words he'd use, but this doesn't even feel like an interaction he'd have. It's all new territory for him.

Thankfully, you don't seem miffed by his short responses, or by the silence that follows. You just stand there, one hand pushing Charlie while the other rests low on your belly, while he stands further back, watching.

And there it is again. The wanting. Brutal and undeniable.

“When’s the little one due?”

The question comes out low and gruff, as if it clawed its way out of his throat on his own, which it may have, because he rarely willingly engages in small talk like this.

"Couple of weeks," you answer.

Charlie breaks the next stretch of silence by instructing Simon to watch him kick his legs to swing even higher, which he does. After he gives him what he hopes sounds like a hum of approval, his eyes move back to you, watching the way your hand moves to rest on your hip, your fingers pressing towards the small of your back as if you're trying to keep yourself propped up.

"Kid seems like a bit of a handful to keep up with all by yourself," he murmurs. "Presently, anyway."

It's not his business, but you don't seem to mind because you reply again, eyes still on Charlie.

"He's been ... well, I think he's a little nervous, about the new baby," you explain. "So I've been trying to make these last few weeks of just us special."

You don't talk much, he's coming to understand that, but he doesn't either, so he knows how much can be said in the spaces between. He stays quiet for a moment, taking a pause to watch another one of Charlie's tricks.

"'Just us'?" he asks. "And what about that husband who was supposed to come to the rescue last time?"

"I lied so you'd think twice about kidnapping us."

Simon chuckles at the blunt response, and says, "Decided you're not in danger now, have you?"

"More like I've decided that if you kidnap us after we gave you juice and crackers, you're a monster and we never stood a chance anyway."

You glance up at him then, the first time you've looked at him since the party moved to the swings, and you smile. It's more playful than flirty, but it's for him, and he finds himself smiling back.

Simon doesn't do this. When he's home, he doesn't really talk to people. There's a quick exchange with a cashier or a bartender, or the occasional mutually distant transaction with a woman who wants the same quick release that he does. Some days are so bad that he'll spend more time than he cares to admit considering whether he wants to wear a mask out -- if he wants to just blend in as much as he can like he usually does, all dark clothing and hunched shoulders, or if he wants to risk attracting a bit more attention by wearing the mask since even so, it'll ensure that no one can see his face.

But here he is, for a reason that he still can't quite pinpoint, smiling at a pregnant lady in a park and watching her little boy play.

It doesn't make sense, but it doesn't feel bad either. So he doesn't stop.

It was late afternoon when Charlie first approached him, and now the sun is getting lower in the sky. You reach a hand up to pull on the chain of the swing, slowing the boy down, and tell him it’s time to go.

He whines for just a moment before obediently dragging his feet to stop the swing, standing up. Before Simon can process it, he comes up to him and wraps his arms around his legs.

“Thanks for playing,” he says before running back off towards the table where you’d left your things.

He helps you gather everything, walking the empty juice boxes over to the trash can so you don’t have to move any more than necessary. When you’re all ready to go, he watches you take Charlie’s hand and offer him another smile.

“See you around,” you tell him before turning and walking off towards the sidewalk.

He tries to think of something clever to say, then he kicks himself for wanting to say something clever, and before he can get out of his own head, you’re already halfway down the sidewalk. And, he notices, you happen to be headed in the direction of his own apartment.

Something in him wants to catch up with you, to say that he’s headed the same way, which wouldn’t be a lie. It’s the same part of him that made him a good soldier — the part that sees an opportunity to go in for the kill.

But the part of him that makes him a good leader stays put. The timing isn't right, and he doesn't want to take a chance on a half-cocked impulse, especially when he still hasn't even figured out what it is that's pulling him to you.

So he walks. He goes the opposite way, away from home, away from you, deeper into town. He walks past the shops as they start closing for the night, the pubs as they get more lively. He walks until he's sure that you and Charlie made your way to wherever you were headed, and only then does he make his way back to his apartment.

It's as dull there as ever, the overhead light flickering when he turns it on and walks inside. He hears the familiar creaking of his cheap old couch as it sinks under his weight when he sits, sees the white expanse of the walls, no pictures or paintings or whatever else people put up to make a house feel warmer than this.

But tonight, it's not quite so bleak. There's the faintest taste of apple juice lingering on his tongue, a sweetness he's not accustomed to, and he can still feel a bit of warmth on his face from being in the sun so long.

He wants more of it. He still doesn't know the ins and outs of it all, but he's ready to accept that it exists. And he's ready to start strategizing on how exactly he can get it.

PART THREE and PART FOUR and PART FIVE and PART SIX and PART SEVEN and PART EIGHT

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Hair ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Summary: lando likes when y/n plays with his hair. only y/n.

༯ ln x reader ✮⋆˙

༯ fluff ✮⋆˙

masterlist ☾☼

y/n loved his curly hair. it was her favourite part of him. the curls that would fall on his forehead, and that would reach his nape where she’d always wrap her fingers around when they kissed. it brought her peace. it brought her comfort. it made her feel loved.

with the 2024 season over, and a few months before 2025, their entire group, or rather, lando’s friends had all planned a trip around the world, and she was his plus one.

it helped that everyone liked her.

almost everyone.

lando’s ex girlfriend, though they’d only hooked up now and then, and were never exactly dating, it was still easier to say “ex girlfriend”, was a mutual friend, and a part of the friend group. so, of course she was coming on the trip as well.

lando was civil and respectful with her. y/n had seen it. and, she trusted him too. she knew he wouldn’t do anything stupid, if not for the love he had for her, then the fear he had of her. it just made her love him more.

lando’s ex girlfriend noticed everything. she didn’t want to. she wanted to enjoy her own vacation. but she didn’t miss the way lando insisted on carrying his girlfriend’s bag, or buying her cute little stuff, or always holding her close. she didn’t miss the way lando demanded they click cheesy, couple pictures, and was kissing her every so often, and keeping her wrapped in his arms.

he spent time with the boys as well. of course, he did. yet somehow, he always gravitated back towards his girlfriend, like if she wasn’t around him, he was losing oxygen.

she had noticed how his girlfriend had a ring on her ring finger that lando always played around with, as if he’s dreaming of their future, how his girlfriend touches his face so often, how she comes up with fun ideas for the boys to do, and plays around with hats and glasses, dressing lando up and taking pictures. she noticed how lando always followed without hesitation if she ever wanted a picture.

she noticed how lando’s girlfriend played with his hair all the time.

lando’s ex girlfriend couldn’t understand why. lando hated having his hair touched. he hated it when someone ran their fingers through his hair or just held onto them and pulled a little during sex. his hair, somehow, was always off limits to touch, to feel, to experience.

it was when the entire group had had lunch in a park somewhere, sitting on blankets laid out over the grass, and food containers every where that she finally had the courage.

lando laughed with everyone, making jokes and teasing and laughing. the stayed laying against his girlfriend, his head against her chest, as she sat. no one said anything, no one teased him. it baffled his ex girlfriend on how that was possible.

what confused her even more was the fact that his girlfriend was picking out flowers from around them and setting them in his hair. just adding all the fallen flowers into his hair, running her fingers through his hair, wrapping her finger around his curls, touching his hair. why was she touching his hair?

it was when the boys had fallen asleep, and almost everyone had fallen asleep except a few that his ex girlfriend finally said. no one was paying attention to them, no one was listening to them, so it didn’t hurt to say.

“y’know he doesn’t like getting his hair played with,” she said.

y/n looked up in surprise, her hand freezing in his mass of curls. “really?”

“yeah. i was never allowed to touch his hair before.” she didn’t know why she said it. she wasn’t jealous of y/n. she was happy for lando, she truly was.

“oh. i don’t know, i’ve always played with his hair and he hasn’t said a thing to me about it.”

“always?”

“yeah,” y/n shrugged. “it was during one of our first few dates and we’d ended up lying on the couch, watching a movie. we’d both had tiring days, and we just wanted to be together at that time. i was playing with his hair, he didn’t say anything, and i continued,”

“that’s never happened with me before. he’d get so mad every time i tried to touch his hair,”

“i think it could have a lot to do with how his hair makes me feel? i don’t know. i never found it an issue,”

sometime during the conversation, y/n’s hand wasn’t touching his hair, wasn’t caressing it. lando stirred, muttering a soft, “baby, hair.”

it made y/n smile, that he needed her to keep her hand in his hair, and that it wasn’t something he allowed her do.

his ex girlfriend watched the whole interaction, though, small. she watched y/n’s face lighting up, and running her fingers through his hair again. she watched as lando’s face relaxed, even in sleep.

“he really loves you,” she whispered.

y/n smiled at her, “yeah, i think so. good thing i love him too, huh?”

she chuckled, “yeah, good thing, definitely. i’ve never seen him like this. i suppose that was the difference between the two of you and whatever happened between him and me.”

y/n didn’t respond. she stared at lando’s sleeping face in her lap, his arms wrapped around her hips, and her hand in his hair.

oh how loved she felt in that moment.

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

okay, i kinda hate this, but i wrote it so i decided to post it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

[megalony]

Somewhere Safe

This is a new Eddie Munson imagine that I had a little idea for. I hope you will all like it.

Any feedback always makes my day.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper

Main Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) doesn't have the best home life and knowing this, Eddie tells her to come and live with him. But he isn't too happy when the group are at a party, and someone tries to play a cruel prank on his girlfriend.

Enjoy.

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

Tears as torturous as acid poured down (Y/n)'s face as her feet thudded against the stairs. Each step she took felt like a mile and the house somehow felt like it was growing, contorting into a maze to keep her here. To trap her.

Her feet seemed to crash against the stairs no matter how light she tried to make her steps and in the end, (Y/n) gave up. She allowed the soles of her converse to crash against the carpet and cause the floorboards to creak and groan at her presence.

Her hands grappled with the bannister which she used to propel herself round to the left and she stumbled into another sprint.

The sound of that shrill voice echoed behind her, thundering across the upstairs landing, trying to catch her before she left. Before she made her escape. Well (Y/n) wouldn't be caught. Not tonight.

Her heart thudded and her lungs ached as she reached the front door and scurried outside. She didn't bother to shut or lock the door behind her, it would only slow her down. She moved her hand to secure the rucksack hanging off her shoulder to make sure she didn't drop it in her hurry to leave.

The wind caused her acidic tears to streak across her face and whip along her skin and it hurt. (Y/n)'s eyes were stinging from how much she had cried and her body was shaking from a mixture of panic and adrenaline.

She tripped down the path that sloped down towards the road. It was always a struggle getting up to the house that was built on a slight incline, but it was always so easy to flee.

(Y/n) felt like her heart was going to give out when she saw that familiar dark blue car parked in front of the next house.

Steve.

He was right on time. He always parked in front of the neighbours house; he knew from experience that (Y/n) didn't like her mother to know who she was going out with or see where she was going. But it didn't matter anymore, not after today.

Her body shuddered and trembled and her lungs seemed to stutter in her chest as she pelted across the grass and aimed for that car that would save her.

"She has remembered we're going out, right?" Robin tossed her head back against the headrest and arched one brow as she looked over at Steve. She didn't like to wait around and they had been parked up for almost ten minutes. Usually as soon as Steve pulled up, (Y/n) would bolt out and be in the car within a minute.

"I spoke to her this morning."

"Well clearly-" Robin broke off into a shriek when a resounding thud bashed against the back window.

Both of them turned around to see one of (Y/n)'s hands plastered against the car window and their expressions mirrored shock as they watched her wrench the door open and almost collapse onto the backseat.

As soon as (Y/n) was inside, she yanked the door shut and dropped her bag down into the footwell. Deep breaths rasped past her lips as she started to shake all over again. She was safe. She was with her friends. Nothing could happen to her now if Steve drove off right away.

A frown formed on Steve's lips as he tried to turn and look behind him towards one of his oldest friends.

He and (Y/n) had been friends since she was ten. Steve was like the older brother she never had and they rowed and bickered like siblings but they would do anything for each other.

When Robin joined their little gang, it almost seemed like the three of them were siblings.

"Hey- woah, you okay?"

"Drive." (Y/n) didn't have the time, energy or effort to even begin to explain. She just needed Steve to drive, to get out of here and take her away somewhere safe.

Although tonight's plans might have to change now. (Y/n) shuddered at the thought and she coiled her arms towards her chest as her eyes fell closed. They had planned on going to the movies tonight, but (Y/n) couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't try and pretend that she was fine and that everything was okay when it wasn't. She couldn't go and sit in a crowded screen and eat popcorn and make jokes and slide down in the chair like the three of them always did when they got rowdy and into a giggling fit.

(Y/n) couldn't concentrate on a movie after what had been said and done tonight. Her mind wasn't in the right place for that.

She was already drifting off into her own world, her eyes tightly closed while she brought her knees up to her chest instead of bothering to pull on her seatbelt.

"Is that blood?" Panic entwined in Robin's voice when she turned around in her seat and looked behind her to where her friend was sitting.

She saw the way (Y/n) flinched when she looked down at her exposed arms which she quickly pressed into her shirt so they couldn't be seen. And she ducked her head down and shimmied until her hood was covering her face so the specks of blood over her brow couldn't be seen either.

She curled up with her knees pressing over her arms that were now pinned against her torso and with her forehead pressing into the top of her knees, (Y/n) effectively hid herself away from two of her best friends. She never liked or wanted to hide from them, but tonight was different.

"What?" Panic bubbled up in Steve's voice causing his tone to heighten as he tried to glance over his shoulder towards his friend. He hadn't seen any blood, but then again, he didn't see her properly when she all but threw herself into the car. "What happened?"

It was clear something had gone on tonight. (Y/n) had thrust herself into the car in a panicked state and she was late, she was hardly ever late to meet them for anything. And she wasn't joking or throwing her arms around them in a hug. She wasn't speaking to them at all. And when Steve looked through the mirror and saw how she was curled up in the backseat, his lips fell into a wince and his fingers began to drum against the steering wheel out of panic.

Something had happened at home.

Steve knew (Y/n) didn't have a good relationship with her mum, but he never pried. In all the years that they had been friends, Steve had been round to (Y/n)'s house all of twice. Whenever they met up or went out or hung together, it was always at Steve's house or at the movies or at school.

He knew (Y/n) argued a lot with her mum and her home life was clearly chaotic at the best of times. Steve had seen the signs, but whenever he tried to approach the subject, (Y/n) veered away and he had learned not to ask. He asked if she was alright, if she needed to talk or go out and vent and brush off steam, but he didn't inquire any further.

"(Y/n) talk to me-"

"Eddie. Please, t-take me to Eddie's." (Y/n) hated how pathetic her voice sounded and she wiped her eyes with the collar of her shirt before she pressed her face back down into her knees.

She didn't want to be a burden or ruin their night, but going to the cinema wasn't going to happen for (Y/n) and she didn't want to mess up what was left of Steve and Robin's night. They could still go to the movies like chaotic siblings and have fun. (Y/n) just needed a ride to Eddie's trailer, and Steve was her best friend. He always gave her a ride wherever she needed if her boyfriend couldn't.

(Y/n) wanted to be with Eddie. He would know what to do. His presence was always so calming to (Y/n) and she needed to be with him and decompress and calm down. Besides, (Y/n) had nowhere else to go but Eddie's place.

Steve glanced to the right and locked eyes with Robin for a few seconds, but neither of them had any clues as to what was happening or ideas about what to do. So, with a shrug of his shoulders, he veered to the left and changed course. The trailer park was only five minutes away and if that was where (Y/n) wanted to go, then that's what they would do.

Every now and then, the pair of them snuck glances into the back of the car, but (Y/n) hadn't moved. She stayed curled up like a child who had been scolded. She didn't speak other than the odd whimper or sniff and neither Robin nor Steve said a word either, they didn't know what to do and the atmosphere in the car felt so fragile that one word might shatter everything.

The road into the trailer park was rocky with various pot holes and chunks of gravel. When the car rolled to a stop beside Eddie's beat up van, Steve took a deep breath and glanced behind him towards (Y/n). She didn't seem to have noticed that they were here.

He stretched his hand out towards her and brushed the back of his hand along her knee, he didn't want to grab her and frighten her.

As soon as she saw where they were, (Y/n) scrambled to grab her bag and get out the car. She knew Steve would get out with her, he was a cautious friend and a gentleman when he wanted to be. He would see her inside and make sure she was alright before he left.

"Stay here," He murmured across to Robin before he climbed out the car. He already knew (Y/n) wouldn't ask him and Robin to stay, she would want them to carry on to the cinema and have a fun night. But Steve needed to check she was actually alright and see if Eddie could get through to her before he dared leave her here.

Steve rounded the front of the car and hopped up the steps so he could knock on the trailer door. He assumed that Wayne would be at work, he always did the night shifts and he prayed that Eddie's van being here meant he was home and not out with the band or at a party or doing some deal somewhere.

The moment the trailer door opened and (Y/n) caught a flash of that familiar crimped brown hair, she surged forward. She didn't care that she unbalanced Steve and almost knocked him off the steps. Nor did she care about being polite and saying hello first. All she cared about was getting to Eddie.

Her body barrelled into his arms, causing Eddie to stumble onto his back foot before he regained his balance and held them both upright. His lips quirked into a confused grin, flashing his pearly whites as he felt (Y/n)'s arms bind tightly around his middle and her face meshed up against his sternum.

Confusion sparkled within Eddie's brown eyes as he wrapped his right arm around (Y/n)'s waist and moved his left hand to cradle the back of her head. And he tilted his head down to briefly kiss the top of her head before he noticed Steve was stood on the steps, his car parked a few feet away.

"Hey, I thought you were all going to the movies tonight?"

Eddie only went along to the movies with them if the whole group was going and if it was a film that was either a new sci-fi or a horror. But when it was just Steve and Robin, Eddie hung back and let the three of them head out together. He knew they would never think of him as being in the way, but he knew they enjoyed heading out together and if he went along, Eddie would simply attach himself to (Y/n) and end up missing half the movie by making out with her.

When (Y/n) didn't answer or say anything at all, Eddie looked over towards Steve, and his smile slowly began to fade.

Steve looked worried. He was stood on the top step with one hand on his hip and the other tangled up in the long hair at the back of his neck. His lips were curled up into a grimace and every time he looked towards (Y/n), there was that sense of panic in his eyes that rattled Eddie's core.

And Eddie finally noticed that Robin was in the car with her nose practically smushed against the window, desperately trying to see and hear what was happening. She looked worried too. Something had happened.

"Something happened, she won't tell me what, but she asked to come here."

Tremoring breaths left Eddie's parted lips and he managed to nod his head before he looked down at (Y/n). She was still bound to his chest like some kind of monkey, unwilling to look up at him or take one step away as if she thought she might die if she let him go.

Diverting his attention back down to the girl in his arms, Eddie tried to take a step back inside the trailer, but (Y/n) moved with him like they were one being.

He sucked in a deep breath which he held in while his hands moved round so he was cupping her face in his palms. He leaned his chest back and carefully peeled (Y/n) off of him so he could look down at her. His brows creased and his thumbs glided along her cheekbones.

The cold metal of his rings felt soothing against (Y/n)'s burning skin and she closed her eyes, relishing in the touch rather than focusing on Eddie's concerned expression and his knitted brows that were pulled together in confusion.

He could see now that she was subtly trembling, something he hadn't felt when she clung to him seconds ago. But what made Eddie's lips curl into a snarl was the cut along the left side of her brow near her eye. It didn't look deep enough to need medical attention, but it was enough to leave a streak of blood trickling down her face and it was certainly going to swell and bruise by morning.

And when Eddie spared a glance back towards Steve, he realised that Steve was silently tapping his arms. That caused Eddie to look down to (Y/n)'s hands that were now clinging to his wrists like she was afraid he was going to let her go. His eyes scanned down her hands, wrists and to her exposed forearms.

More cuts along her arms that were smeared in small streaks of blood.

"Oh baby."

(Y/n) couldn't help the tears that started to trickle down her face again and she leaned forward until her nose was meshed up against his sternum and her heavy breaths were fanning into his black cotton shirt. Her hands let go of his wrists in favour of binding her arms back around his waist again and she cried quietly when Eddie's fingers knotted into her hair. He cupped the back of her head with both hands and pressed feverish kisses to the top of her head in an attempt to calm her down.

"Thanks for dropping her off Harrington, we'll be fine."

When Steve nodded, Eddie reached one hand out to pat his shoulder as a sign of thanks. He was glad Steve had brought her here, Eddie didn't want to think about (Y/n) walking down here in this state late at night. It didn't bear thinking about.

Steve gently rested his hand on (Y/n)'s lower back and mumbled "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" before he headed back down the steps towards the car. Suddenly going to the cinema wasn't as exciting anymore now that they knew something wasn't right with (Y/n).

Once the car pulled away, Eddie nudged the door shut and carefully walked backwards, easing (Y/n) with him as they walked in tandem like their legs were tied together.

He glanced his eyes around the trailer before deciding to aim for the sofa and once he sat back down on the sofa, he pulled (Y/n) along with him. She didn't argue or make a disapproving sound, she didn't say anything at all.

Her arms shifted from Eddie's waist to lock around his neck instead and she sat down on his lap, wriggling until she was as close as possible. Her face tucked into Eddie's neck with his hair tickling the back of her head as it curled around her like a curtain trying to protect her and shield her from any prying eyes, not that there was anyone else with them in the trailer.

She lifted her legs and swung them up onto the sofa beside Eddie while one of his hands gripped her thigh and the other curved around her lower back and settled on the dip in her waist.

They stayed like that for a few minutes while Eddie kissed her temple and breathed softly against her skin. He waited until he felt the tears finally stop and her breaths began to even out before he tried to start a conversation.

"Wanna tell me what happened, babe?"

She didn't want to. (Y/n) really didn't want to explain what had happened back at home tonight, but she knew she needed to. She couldn't just sit here and panic Eddie- panic him more than she already had. She needed to at least explain why she had turned up and changed the plans when she was supposed to be at the cinema with Steve and Robin.

She nuzzled her nose into Eddie's collar bone while she felt him humming something against the top of her head, probably the tune he had stuck in his head.

"Mum was in one of her moods, I said- I said I was going to the cinema, but she d-didn't believe me. She called me a whore." (Y/n) almost laughed as she spoke and the cynical smile on her lips was one second away from breaking into a hollow crease.

Eddie was the only one who knew what (Y/n)'s home life was like. (Y/n) had never told anyone what she went through at home, not until she and Eddie got together and he suddenly told her about his own parents. About his shitty dad who didn't stick around and his mum who couldn't be bothered with him after a while. And that was before he got into drugs and smoking and started failing at school; she was probably the reason he went downhill in the first place.

With Eddie being so open to her and when he first told her he loved her, something changed within (Y/n). She felt safe. She felt loved and understood and like it was okay to tell one person what her home life was like.

(Y/n)'s dad wasn't in the picture anymore, after he left, it was just (Y/n) and her mum, and it had been Hell.

Little things (Y/n) did, things that weren't naughty or wrong or bad, it could have been something as simple as drawing a picture or playing the wrong movie, but they set her mum off. They sent her into a rant, into a fit of rage.

Her mother was bent on drilling rules and discipline into (Y/n) and her way of doing that was shouting and lashing out.

She felt Eddie tense against her and the way he sighed through his teeth against her temple made (Y/n) shudder. He had never met her mum but he hated her with a deep vengeance already.

"What did she do?" There was something deep and guttural about Eddie's voice and it made (Y/n) shiver. Especially when Eddie moved his hand from her thigh to cup her cheek and trace his thumb along the cut to her brow.

"I kept telling her it was a cinema trip, but she wouldn't listen. She smacked me, b- but she had a knife…"

(Y/n) shakily let go of Eddie's neck and moved her arms towards her face to show that she had tried to defend herself. And when she hovered her arms near her face, it allowed Eddie a better look at the few cuts to her arms. Superficial wounds, but still bleeding cuts nonetheless and any wound was wrong no matter how shallow or small it was.

Her mum had hit her, nothing new, it was something that happened on occasion and each time it did, (Y/n) fled the house so it wouldn't get worse. She always came home to find her mum crying and apologising or pretending like it hadn't happened.

Tonight was almost the same as normal, but her mum lashed out with a kitchen knife in her hand. It slashed (Y/n)'s face and when she tried to strike her again, (Y/n) ended up with cuts on her arms.

She ran to her bedroom, grabbed her bag- which she added a few clothes to so she didn't have to go home tonight- and fled the house with her mother shouting and screaming behind her.

"You're not going back there."

"I brought an overnight bag." (Y/n) tiredly pointed to her rucksack on the floor beside the front door before she snuggled further into Eddie. He never minded when she wanted to stay over, he encouraged her to stay with him especially if her mum was in one of her moods. And Wayne never minded if he came home to find (Y/n) cooking in the kitchen or watching tv with Eddie in the mornings before school.

"No, I mean you're not going back there again. You can stay here with me." The determination in Eddie's voice was surprising and it made (Y/n)'s heart flutter.

She tilted her head back against his shoulder so she could look up at him and her trembling fingertips delicately traced his jaw and his lower lip which caused him to shudder and close his eyes automatically.

"Eddie…"

"Baby, you're not safe there. If you're here with me then you're safe, uncle Wayne won't mind. Some of your stuff is in my room anyway, so stay. Stay with me."

Eddie curled his hand carefully and slowly around her wrist as not to frighten her and he tilted his head to press his lips against the palm of her hand. He leaned into her touch before he pushed forward and pressed his lips to hers in a burning, searing kiss that stole all the air from (Y/n)'s lungs.

Going back home was just putting (Y/n) at risk. What would stop her mum from doing this again and harming her or stabbing her next time?

If (Y/n) stayed here with Eddie and his uncle, she would be safe. She stayed over at least once a week as it was when things got too much. They could share Eddie's room, he would drive her to school every morning with him and bring her home. She could go out with Robin and Steve and the gang without having to hide or lie or panic about getting home and wondering what mood her mum would be in.

Eddie barely let their lips part, even as (Y/n) pulled back for air, their lips were still brushing and his hand was now cradling the side of her neck.

He uttered "Stay with me," against her lips and he sucked her lower lip between his teeth as his hooded eyes bore into hers, desperate for her to say yes. He wanted her here with him where she was loved and safe.

Eddie knew (Y/n) couldn't tell her mum about any of her male friends. Her mum had it in her mind that (Y/n) couldn't hang out with boys or else she would be corrupted and her grades would slip and she would get into trouble. She didn't seem to realise that (Y/n) could simply be friends with Steve and be in a relationship with Eddie and still get the grades and attend school and still be herself.

She never told her mum about Steve and she certainly didn't mention Eddie because his reputation preceded him and her mum would go off the rails because she didn't know about Eddie's sweet side the way (Y/n) did.

So if (Y/n) stayed here, her mum wouldn't know. She wouldn't know where Eddie lived, she didn't even know that (Y/n) knew Eddie or that she was dating him. She would be protected here.

(Y/n) didn't feel able to say no. She couldn't help the smile that curled at her lips and she leaned into his chest, pushing him back against the sofa as she kissed him with fever.

"Okay."

No sooner had the word passed her lips and into Eddie's mouth than his hand left her hip and curved round to cup her bum. She could feel his lips curving into a wide grin against her mouth that he was bruising with his feverish kisses and he made sure (Y/n)'s legs were hooked around his waist before he got up from the sofa with her sat on his hips.

"That's my girl. Now let's clean those cuts up, hm?" She was here with him now, and this was where she was staying. And Eddie would always look after her.

***

(Y/n) didn't like parties. There was only one type of party where she felt truly comfortable and at ease and that was the parties which Steve hosted. The ones where Nancy, Robin, Eddie and the rest of the group attended. Just them, nobody else, no other kids from school to mock them or stare or get too rowdy and cop off in the bedrooms.

(Y/n) wasn't sure they really classed as parties so much as they were sleepovers, but those were the only kind that (Y/n) felt okay in.

She didn't truly want to be here, but Nancy and Steve insisted. It was one of Nancy's friends throwing the party and apparently everyone was invited. That meant Nancy wanted all her friends to go with her so they could have some fun.

But their definitions of fun were very different.

With both her arms bound around her waist, (Y/n) tilted her head down and tried to worm her way through the bodies in the kitchen so she could get a drink.

They hadn't been here long and already (Y/n) was eager to leave, but she couldn't. She couldn't sneak off without Nancy and the rest of the group knowing and they all promised they would stick together tonight. They were here to have fun and dance and mess around, but they would still hang with each other. (Y/n) didn't want to be a kill joy, she didn't want to be the first one to leave.

She found some plastic cups and got two drinks of whatever punch was in the large fish bowl on the counter. Everyone was drinking from it so it couldn't be spiked with anything bad, she hoped.

Once she turned around with both drinks in hand, she tried to weave back through the sea of people. At least where the rest of the group were sitting in the back room, it wasn't so crowded and they weren't going deaf with the music or squashed near people dancing. They were out the way and could have a somewhat fun night.

(Y/n) could feel a bubble of annoyance swelling in her chest when she passed Chrissy. The cheerleader who thought she was the best of the best and better than everybody else. Chrissy used to try and tease (Y/n) in class quite a lot, and she wasn't pleased when she realised she would have to stop tormenting (Y/n) because if she didn't, (Y/n) would tell the rest of the school that Chrissy had tried buying drugs from Eddie. That would ruin Chrissy's reputation.

"Nice outfit." Chrissy's voice was shrill and the smirk on her face was unsettling as her eyes dragged up and down (Y/n)'s outfit.

She wasn't wearing anything special. This wasn't a dressing up party or Halloween. She was wearing a pair of jeans and Eddie's Hellfire shirt, mainly because it had long sleeves and covered the little scratches and cuts that were finally healed on her arms. Besides, Eddie liked it when she wore his clothes, he was always telling her that.

With an arched brow, (Y/n) looked up and down Chrissy's outfit with a small huff. Chrissy looked like she was going to bed, she had on a skimpy shirt that barely went down to her hips and a pair of shorts so small and tight that they looked uncomfortable. They looked like knickers rather than shorts.

"Nice underwear." Was the response she gave before she walked off to find Eddie again.

Once she was back near the group, (Y/n) locked her eyes on Eddie's frame. He was sat on the sofa, thighs spread apart, elbows resting on his thighs and his chest hunched forward to look at the coffee table where they were playing some kind of game.

A smile pulled at Eddie's lips when (Y/n) walked towards him and held out a red plastic cup in his direction. He took it without question, his smile broadening when he watched her kneel down on the floor and move around until she was sat between his legs with her back up against the sofa. He looped an arm over her shoulder and attached his lips to the back of her head.

"Thanks," He murmured into her hair before he leaned round a bit more to press a kiss to her temple.

(Y/n) grinned and shivered at the feeling of Eddie's hair tickling her shoulder and the crook of her neck as he leaned into her. His cheek smushed up against hers and his chest pressed into her back and shoulders as she felt him smiling and chuckling against her skin.

If Eddie hadn't of tagged along tonight (Y/n) wouldn't have stayed this long, but he didn't have band practice tonight so he had agreed to come along for a night out. It beat hanging around the trailer on his own if (Y/n) wasn't home.

Most of the kids at school knew (Y/n) was staying with Eddie now. Someone had started commenting that he drove her to and from school and it soon caught round that she had been staying at the trailer.

At least (Y/n) knew this news wasn't going to get back to her mum and if it did, she would have a hard time trying to find exactly who Eddie was and where he lived.

Steve, Eddie and Robin had all helped (Y/n) sneak back home last week when her mum was at work so she could grab her stuff. She only took the essentials, her school work, her few favourite books and her clothes and one or two mementos. That was all she needed for now and she had been happier than ever now that she was staying with Eddie- and Wayne, who kept reassuring her he didn't mind her staying with them.

They stayed like that for a while, (Y/n) perched happily on the floor between Eddie's legs that occasionally squeezed into her sides like he was caging her in or making sure she was still there and secure in his embrace.

(Y/n) leaned her cheek on Eddie's knee and curled up against his leg. The alcohol made her relax, but being around the group made her feel a lot better.

She didn't join in whatever game they were playing, neither did Nancy, but Steve and Robin were battling against Eddie in what (Y/n) was sure was some strange game of cards with new rules. Although Eddie seemed to be winning so (Y/n) wasn't going to start questioning the rules.

When she felt Eddie's hand slithering across her shoulder and down her side, (Y/n) tilted her head back on his knees so she could look up at him. Her lips curved into a tender grin and she closed her eyes when he leaned down to kiss her.

His lips tasted like liquorish and sweetened cocktails and his tongue tasted even sweeter when it dove past her lips to battle with hers.

She could feel his hand creeping back up her side until his hand was curled beneath her chin like he was making sure she wasn't about to tilt her head down or pull away from him. But he did let her come up for air when her head started to spin.

His hand stayed caressing her chin for a while and the love-drunk look in his eyes made (Y/n) want to melt on the spot. Eddie could look at her however he wanted and (Y/n) would feel like she was the only person in the world worth looking at; at least in Eddie's world.

"Hey lovebirds, we need more drinks."

"So go get some." Eddie quipped back before he leaned forward and stole another kiss from (Y/n)'s lips. His thumb traced along (Y/n)'s chin and his teeth sank a bit too deeply into her lower lip causing a droplet of blood to splash on his tongue when Steve gave him a shove in the shoulder.

"I'm not an octopus Munson, give me a hand." Steve didn't duck in time before Eddie's free hand clipped him round the back of the head. He was expecting something like that, but he was surprised when Eddie sighed and pushed up from the sofa. He was actually going to help.

Eddie's hands moved to (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could carefully step around her, not wanting to kick or nudge her by accident. He gave her shoulders a lasting squeeze before he followed Steve towards the kitchen, grumbling in the process about having to move.

"Well this music sucks." Robin wasn't lying and as soon as she clocked the idiot who was supposed to be a DJ, she pushed up from the floor and headed in his direction. She wasn't listening to this for the rest of the night, she wanted some proper music and she didn't care who she had to annoy to get her way.

(Y/n) began to tap her fingers on her thighs, feeling a calm buzz mingling in with her blood from the alcohol. She wouldn't have much more, she wanted to at least be able to walk straight when they all decided to call it a night and left. Wobbling out wouldn't be the greatest way to leave and all of them were walking home so they couldn't be blackout drunk tonight.

She pulled out of her thoughts and glanced to the left when Nancy leaned across the sofa to nudge her arm.

Nancy's crimped hair was waving in all directions like she had come into contact with too much static and her smile was rather dopey and loose showing she was on her way to being drunk.

She was practically lying on the sofa with her cheek smushed up into the cushion and her hand lolled on (Y/n)'s shoulder to gain her attention.

"Help me find the bathroom?"

(Y/n) suspected she might have to carry her friend to the bathroom rather than help her scout it out, but she nodded. Finding the bathroom in a strange house wasn't an easy task and it wasn't nice to do alone.

She pushed up to her feet and held her hands out, helping Nancy straighten up and stop wobbling.

Nancy slung her arm around the back of (Y/n)'s shoulders, grinning drunkenly as the pair of them headed away from the room and towards the hall. Neither of them were sure whether there would be a downstairs toilet or not but they decided to try their luck down the hall to find out.

They were in luck. At the end of the hall to the left, a couple stumbled out of the bathroom with toussled hair and skewed jeans. There was a bathroom.

"I'll wait here." (Y/n) unhooked Nancy's arm from around the back of her neck and helped her wobble into the bathroom before she closed the door.

(Y/n) turned so her back was pressed against the wall and she closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts and make sure she wasn't as drunk as Nancy clearly was.

She found it strange that some of the people from school were so easy-going and so willing to have sex in a stranger's house, in any room that they could find. Anyone could walk in. People could see or laugh or try and interrupt. What if the owners or person's parents came home? It was all too risky and too unsettling for (Y/n). She wouldn't want to have sex in a strangers house in someone else's bedroom, she probably wouldn't go in the bathroom either.

Eddie wasn't like that either, he wouldn't beat around the bush or try and find a random room. If Eddie wanted her, he would make it plainly obvious and he would make their excuses to leave and head back home where they would be alone.

A smile began to pull on her lips and her eyes remained closed as she listened to the sudden change of music. A heavy drum intro, soon followed by at least three different guitar beats. Oh yes, Robin had gotten hold of the DJ, or maybe even Eddie had gone over and made a request as the song sounded vaguely familiar and definitely something that Eddie would listen to.

But her eyes snapped open when an unfamiliar pair of hands suddenly latched around her arm and she was pulled off of the wall she was leaning against.

Her sense of balance wobbled and distorted for a few seconds and (Y/n) darted her eyes around to try and find out what was going on, but her brows furrowed and her heart hammered against her chest when she realised who was stood beside her.

What was Chrissy doing?

Unease bridled through (Y/n)'s chest and dwelled in her stomach as Chrissy steered her down the hall, away from the bathroom where Nancy was. And when (Y/n) felt another hand gripping her other arm, she looked to find one of Chrissy's cheerleading minions beside her.

"Get off-"

"Oh, but we have something to show you."

The sickly tone to her voice made (Y/n)'s stomach churn, but she couldn't pull away. Her shoes skidded against the floor, her knees bent awkwardly and she tried to push back and pull away from them but it didn't work. Their fingers felt like viper's teeth sinking into her arms and they suddenly stopped, no longer dragging (Y/n) down the hall.

Maybe they realised other people at the party would ask them what they were doing and make them stop if they realised both girls were dragging (Y/n) somewhere unwillingly.

(Y/n) twisted her head from left to right, trying in vain to see if Nancy was drunkenly wandering out of the bathroom or to see if she could catch one of the group somewhere in the distance. But she couldn't see anyone. And before she knew what was happening, she was suddenly pushed forward.

For a dreaded moment, she had a horrible feeling that she had just been pushed into a bedroom and someone was waiting in there to make fun of her or play some kind of prank on her.

It was much worse.

She had been shoved into a closet.

Panic settled in her lungs like stones, clogging up until she could barely take in one ounce of air. Her body began to shake as her hands scoured around her, but she couldn't find anything except for a mountain of coats and dozens of pairs of shoes squandered around her feet.

The room couldn't have been bigger than a bathtub, there was barely room for (Y/n) to turn round in a circle and each hook on the wall held a coat or a shawl or a hat. Making (Y/n) feel like she was in a room with a dozen strangers, all cramped together.

She spun on her heels, barely able to see the door with how dark the closet was. The only source of light was the thin orange hue leaking through beneath the door, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to calm (Y/n) down.

Her hands grasped the tiny door handle and she shoved, but it wouldn't open. Someone was holding the handle so it wouldn't twist in any direction, and there was a heavy weight against the door preventing (Y/n) from barging it open even a tiny bit.

"Having fun in there, freak?"

"Open the door!" Her fists bashed down on the door as tears began to well up in her eyes.

She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. She couldn't get out.

A rendition of "Let me out!" bellowed past (Y/n)'s lips as she began to wheeze from how little air she was actually intaking. Each shallow breath she took made her lungs ache and she felt like she was going to throw up. They had to let her out. They couldn't leave her in here like this. Someone else would surely notice if she began screaming and hitting the door.

Could (Y/n) scream louder than the music blasting from the tv and the speakers? Could she make enough ruckus, or would no one pay any attention? Would the group even come looking for her? How long until they noticed she wasn't with them?

"Out! Out! Let- let me out!" Words spluttered past her lips, but she couldn't speak from how tight and hoarse her throat was becoming.

Each breath became a strangled sound and her hands trembled as they bashed into the wooden door so harshly that grazes began to appear on her skin.

They knew. They knew she hated small spaces. Chrissy had been in science class with (Y/n) last year when (Y/n) went into the supply cupboard and the door jammed. She had screamed and when the teacher opened the door, (Y/n) was in tears.

Everyone knew she couldn't stand small confined places, they had picked on her enough for what happened in science class. Until (Y/n) began dating Eddie. No one was brave enough to pick on 'the freak's girlfriend' because Eddie was fiercely protective.

"I'll go find them." Eddie muttered as he set his bottle of beer down on the table and started to wander around the house. He could see Robin trying to get the music changed, again, but Nancy and (Y/n) had wandered off and it didn't look like Steve was going to get up and search for them anytime soon.

And Eddie knew his girlfriend, he knew what she was like. She didn't like wandering around strange places on her own and she wasn't one for going out for a smoke or walking off, especially not without Eddie.

His fingers tangled in his hair and he scratched his scalp as he sighed and started mulling about the house. He knew the girls weren't in the kitchen, he and Steve had just come from there with a multitude of different drinks stuffed into their hands and the creases of their elbows.

A soft "Where are you babe?" muttered beneath his breath as he did a circle of the room before he tried to aim for the stairs.

Before he got to the stairs, his attention was stolen by a round of chanting and the curious side of him glanced to the left.

His eyes narrowed as he saw people crowding in the hall. (Y/n) didn't like crowds of people, but she and Nancy might have wandered over there to see what was going on. Or they could have headed outside to get away from the crowd.

Curiosity got the better of him and Eddie pulled away from the stairs so he could trudge down the hall instead with his head angled to one side and his eyes narrowing in on the scene ahead of him. But when his eyes clocked a familiar set of caramel curls, his expression faded into confusion.

Nancy. She was on the edge of the crowd, desperately pushing against them but she couldn't get to whatever everyone was crowding round. And Eddie couldn't see (Y/n) anywhere.

The laughter and the drunken slurrs instantly faded into hushed whispers and panicked voices when Eddie neared, and that made him uncomfortable. There were some people at school who feared him, and he rather liked that because it meant they stayed away from him and didn't try and talk or tease or irritate him. And then there were others who tried to taunt him and make fun of him, but Eddie's sense of humour was warped and he loved how irritated they got when he didn't react the way they wanted.

But right now, seeing people glare at him and look at him with worry in their eyes, that was unsettling. He didn't normally get this kind of reaction, and at a party no less.

His breathing began to turn deep and his chest heaved against his denim jacket when he glanced to the right and saw what everyone was crowding around. There was a door, whether it was to a bathroom or a bedroom, Eddie had no idea. But he could see Jason Carver clinging to the handle and someone else stood so close that the door couldn't be opened.

Oh no.

"Who's in there?" There was a dangerous look in Eddie's eyes and his jaw started to grind and lock in place as he pointed to the door.

There were still people laughing, oblivious to his presence. People like Jason and Chrissy and their cronies who hadn't noticed Eddie stood on the outskirts of the crowd of teens hanging around the door.

"Who's in there?" He rose his voice when he got no answer but his tone deepened in pitch as he slammed his hand against the wall to try and gain someone's attention. Anybody's attention. If it was who he thought it was in that room then there was going to be Hell to pay for this.

Nancy hated the way Eddie's expression changed from concerned to absolutely livid when they both heard (Y/n)'s scream. She knew. Nancy knew from the moment she came out the bathroom and saw the crowd with (Y/n) nowhere in sight, that something bad had happened. And when she heard her friend calling out, she tried to get closer. But people just kept pushing her away. She had already gotten a bruise to her chest where someone pushed her into the wall to stop her from getting to the door.

"Eddie!" The tone in (Y/n)'s voice was desperate and told them just how panicked she was, if her screams weren't enough to convey her terror.

Within an instant, Eddie's hands curled around Jason's shirt and he tackled him backwards until he let go of the door and stumbled against the wall where Eddie pinned him up.

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" His nostrils flared as he seethed until his face was going red and every vein and artery in his body seemed to pop out beneath his skin. His head twisted to the side and he glared at Nancy as everyone started to shout and move. "Get her out!"

She needed no more prompting than that to wrench the door open but Nancy stumbled back with a gasp when (Y/n) fell forward.

(Y/n) had been pressing all of her weight on the door in a feeble attempt to get someone to open it. She tried bashing her knees, her shoulder, her whole body into the wooden door but it didn't budge. Until now. Her hands and knees scraped the carpet floor as she went down with a thud as soon as the door swung open.

Gasps and sobs left her lips and tears dripped from her eyes that were burning and stinging like cleaning solution had been poured into her eyes.

She ignored whoever was trying to talk to her, there was too much static in her head for her to be able to cooperate and even try to work out what she was being told. And as soon as hands tried to grapple for her, (Y/n) screamed and thrust her elbows out in every direction until whoever it was left her alone.

"Eddie- oh God- Steve stop him!" Nancy's hands tangled in her hair and she stepped back as she tried to stop her head from exploding and get someone to do something.

The idiots who had been gathering around had quickly dispersed in every direction. All that was left was Jason's friends and Chrissy, stood to one side as she watched in terror as Eddie slammed his fist down into Jason's nose. It didn't take a genius to know that Jason's nose had broken and the thick rings cladding Eddie's fingers cut into his cheek, marking his pale skin.

"Eddie get off him! Jesus Christ! Someone go get (Y/n)." Steve thrust a hand in the other direction to where he could see (Y/n) scrambling to stumble away. They couldn't let her run off when Steve had seen her crying, they couldn't just watch her leave on her own someone had to go with her.

His hands reached down and he used all his might to wrench Eddie off of Jason who wasn't even fighting back, although that could be because Eddie's punches had stunned him.

Eddie wasn't one for fights. He used words and jokes to deflect situations and he loved winding people up by taking the piss out of them. He made self-deprecating jokes against himself too which always riled people up. It took a lot for Eddie to feel the need to fight physically, something he was usually against. But he couldn't help it.

They had tortured (Y/n) by locking her in there.

He swung his arms at his sides, screeching "Get the Hell off me!" until he realised it was Steve. But he still shrugged off Steve's touch when he scrambled back onto his feet.

His sleeve swiped beneath his lips and nose and he shook his hands out at his sides, thankful he was wearing all his rings as they had saved him from splitting his knuckles. The rings had done all the work of damaging Jason's face with minimal backlash on Eddie's knuckles and skin.

He slammed his palm against the wall as he hurried down the hall, glad everyone was moving out of his way so he didn't have to push them.

He knew Steve and Nancy were half a second behind him while Robin was a step in front, trying to catch up with (Y/n).

The fresh air hit each of them like a truck and the cold seeped into (Y/n)'s chest and caused her lungs to seize up. Her hands moved to press to her chest, begging her lungs to start working again as she gagged and tried to claw for a deep breath.

Her body writhed and shook when she felt hands reaching out for her again and she tried her best not to scream because she knew the only people who would have followed her out here were her friends.

"What- what was that? What happened?" Robin managed to rest a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder for all of two seconds before she was shaken off.

"They locked her in a closet but she's claustrophobic."

"Assholes." Spat past Robin's lips in a low grunt as she glanced towards the house as if she hoped they would all hear her and feel sorry for themselves. As if they could do that to someone when they were supposed to be at a party. Everyone was supposed to be enjoying themselves. How did listening to (Y/n) panic and scream count as fun or enjoyment for anyone? They were sick.

(Y/n) furiously wiped her hands across her face to try and clear away the tears that were soaking into her face. And when she slowly turned around to face them all, there was only one person she was looking at.

She didn't have to say anything at all for Eddie to hurry forward and deadlock his arms around her. One hand cupped the back of her neck and the other arm pinned around her lower back near her hips, binding her into his chest like he was trying to stuff her into his heart to keep her safe.

He smothered his lips in the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo as he tried to calm down his breathing and stop himself from becoming enraged.

His hands were shaking against her skin and each breath Eddie took felt like his chest was about to explode.

"It was- I… like mum-"

"I know, I know babe." Eddie hushed against her hair as he began to lean them from side to side like they were doing some kind of slow dance together.

Eddie knew. He was the only one in the group who knew that it wasn't just claustrophobia for (Y/n). It was bad memories too.

She had told Eddie about what her mum was like and how she had treated her when she was younger and each story Eddie heard made him furious. He thought his childhood with his parents had been bad, but Eddie would take that any day over how (Y/n)'s mum had treated her and brought her up.

Her mum used to lock (Y/n) in the closet when she was 'bad', but that could be anything. From (Y/n) not finishing her meal or doing something as simple as spilling something on the floor.

It was how (Y/n) had learned not to tell her mum things, such as that some of her closest friends were boys because she knew her mother would think she was being promiscuous and try to punish her or call her names. there had been times in (Y/n)'s childhood where she was locked in the closet at home and she was forced to kneel on grains of rice until her knees bled and her toes went numb.

She had even slept in there on a few occasions when her mum forgot she was in there. Or when (Y/n) had snook out for a few hours to see her friends, her mum had locked her in the closet and made her sleep in there so she couldn't try and sneak out again.

(Y/n) couldn't abide by small spaces anymore, especially not cupboards or closets like that. She could hear her mother's shrill voice telling her to be a good daughter for once. She could hear her mother crying as she wished (Y/n) would just be good and do as she was told and not be a brat or an ungrateful or promiscuous girl.

She was afraid of being locked away and never being able to get out again.

"I'm taking her home." Eddie announced quietly while his cheek rested on top of (Y/n)'s head and he looked towards the group. He continued to sway them from side to side while his fingers carded through (Y/n)'s hair and he sighed deeply.

It had been the plan anyway for them all to walk home. The trailer park was ten minutes away and Nancy had been hoping to catch a ride home with a friend. Steve and Robin didn't think that far ahead, they were used to hitching rides or drunkenly making their way home. Steve's place was close, the three of them could go and crash there for the night.

"You sure you'll be okay?"

Eddie nodded at Robin before he squeezed (Y/n) in his arms to try and make sure she was ready to go home. Back to her new home, where she didn't have to worry what time she got back or coming up with a good excuse for where she had been and who she had been. Back to a home where she was loved and welcomed and treated with respect rather than imposing anger to make her fall into place.

Home was now with Eddie; home was finally somewhere safe.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt 67

part 1 | part 66 | ao3

cw: recreational drug use

Waiting around to die or get arrested or whatever fucking sucks. Partly because there’s no running water (Steve’s never wanted to take a stress shower so badly in his life) and partly because Eddie won’t let him stay sober. Has it in his head that altering Steve’s mental state will keep Vecna away, like hanging a mosquito net over the opening of a tent.

It’s not not working, he guesses.

He hasn’t fallen in to any more hallucinated open graves, at least.

He comes down the stairs a little before noon, towel-drying his hair after a bottled water sink bath, and finds Eddie in the kitchen: Reeboks on, hair a cotton candy mess, head-to-toe teddy bear tie-dye under his leather jacket — a matching shirt and sweats that he fished out of Rick’s dresser. He’s stirring Spaghettios in a small pot at the stove, and when he sees Steve come in he turns to offer some, the wooden spoon held out with a sort of desperate perkiness. “Morning! I found food that isn’t expired. You want some?”

Steve shakes his head.

Eddie shovels the whole spoonful into his mouth; wipes sauce off his chin, speaks before he’s finished chewing. “I also found blotters in the freezer and shrooms in the bedroom closet, so uh. Pick your poison.”

Steve picks the shrooms. They wait a few hours to take them because Eddie swears the sunset while you’re tripping is unparalleled, man, although Steve kind of suspects that he’s just giving him time to work up the nerve to eat them. He still gets nervous about chemicals — probably always will, after the shit the Russians did.

In the meantime, Eddie rummages through Rick’s cassette collection, and Steve talks to Robin on the walkie; gets all the new details in staticky half-sentences — something about mind flayers and mental hospitals, what else is new? He tells her to be safe; tells her that he loves her; keeps his eyes trained on the clock.

—

Shrooms smell and taste like ass. Steve can’t stomach them; spits into the grass while Eddie laughs sympathetically and hands him a little square of paper to put on his tongue instead, and they spread out side by side on a few old beach towels by the water and wait for it to kick in.

Nothing, at first, not that Steve expected different. Twenty minutes; forty-five.

“Still nothing?”

“Nothing.”

And then.

Eddie holds up a glossy aquamarine pebble, squinting at its glow in the late afternoon sun. “I should give this rock to Skye. Bet she’d love it.”

“That’s a shard of glass.”

Eddie blinks at it. “Oh, shit.”

Steve snorts, and when he looks at Eddie sideways there’s a glimmer of that same cerulean shade outlining his whole body, a low-frequency feather of energy rolling off of him in waves. Eddie moves his arm and the color chases it, a long-exposure photo of high beams on rain-slick roads.

“Oh,” Steve says, mouth slack. His voices echo in his head; all six of them. “I think I’m…”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, eyes alight, pupils blown.

“Yeah.”

All at once something slots into place, attunes itself inside of Steve, and it’s like… he can see Eddie’s mind; touch it, cradle it, reach out to it with its own. It feels crazy. Psychedelics are fucking crazy. He reaches out a hand, slicing through ribbons of shimmering light, tasting the colors as they fade, and Eddie’s emotions spread out in high-definition before him — like the image has always been there but now it’s crystal clear; someone’s shifted his focal point, filled a kiddie pool with Epsom salt and left him there to float.

“I see you,” he says nonsensically.

Eddie frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“…That I can see you?”

“I usually am.”

That’s not right. Eddie’s thoughts shouldn’t sour on his account, shouldn’t sag in the middle like a moldy tangerine. “I can close my eyes?”

“Fuck,” Eddie laughs, thin and strained. “Don’t say shit like that when I’m not allowed to kiss you.”

“You’re not?”

He hesitates. “Am I?” Antsy fingers drum the grass, overgrown with vibrant clover and dandelion stalks. “Just feel like we should talk first, if uh, if it’s safe.”

Steve probes his own mind, tests it for outside threats, but there’s nothing. The acid forms a fractal fortress. Penrose steps, paradoxical and strange. “It’s safe.”

He moves to lie on his side, invites Eddie to do the same. “Talk into the kiss,” he suggests when Eddie joins him — face to face, chest to chest, Steve can see the thrum of Eddie’s heartbeat in the hollow of his throat; wants to press his thumb to it, so he does, the sense memory of ripe cherries bursting on his tongue.

Eddie’s lips against his own; hovering. Static electricity like the scent of summer rain. “I think my pride makes me a coward.”

Steve rubs his dry lips across Eddie’s, chapped skin and shared heat.

“It’s like… I kept trying to tell myself that I was being… I don’t know, valiant, or some shit? Like, ‘oh, he’s so much better without me. I’m the town pariah; I’m keeping him safe by running away.’” He thumps his fist against his heart as if beating a shield to shining armor, and Steve can’t see his eyebrows with their foreheads pressed together, but he can feel Eddie scrunching them into a picture-perfect hero frown. Almost has to laugh — so fucking theatrical even when he’s serious.

“But if I’m honest,” Eddie murmurs, “it wasn’t like that at all. Nothing fucking brave about vanishing on you. Like, what?” His voice shifts again, lilting but critical, a comedian doing crowd work. “I get a liiiittle fucked up by townies two too many times, and I sabotage my whole life over it? Ruin the best thing I’ve ever had over it? As if this goddamn horseshit hasn’t been happening to me since— forever! Shit.” He blows his bangs out of his face; calms himself. Goes a little cross-eyed trying to look Steve in the eye. “I got scared, Steve. There it is. That’s the ugly truth of it.”

He swallows harshly in the dense silence that follows.

Robins chirp; cars pass.

The lake laps at the shore and casts prisms like fishing line, spiderwebs of rainbow light flashing behind Steve’s eyelids. He brings his hands up to Eddie’s face.

“Christ.” Eddie shudders; lets himself become dead weight, rubbing his cheek into the touch, warm stubble scratching over the pads of Steve’s fingers. “Am I making any sense? I feel like I’m not making any sense.”

Yes. No. “You’re making sense. I mean. As much as anything is right now.” The sandy brown freckles on the bridge of Eddie’s nose are swirling like snow flurries. Steve traces them with curious hands. His knuckles blur and swivel, too. “You left because… you wanted to protect me from… yourself?” He sums up, not sure if he’s getting the math right.

“I left because I’m a scared little shit who couldn’t handle getting bullied in a parking lot, but uh. Yeah. I guess I, like, didn’t want to…” His eyes go big and startled, cheeks flooding bright pink. “Oh, shit, I was about to say I didn’t want to curse you, Jesus Christ.”

Steve honks with laughter. Loud and deep and punched out without warning, because the irony of that — that there’s a literal big bad running around cursing people, and the person who was actually doing some real good in his life decided that he was the problem — it’s fucking— hilarious! Hysterical! Steve giggles himself sick, lungs burning as it tapers to a silent wheeze, and Eddie joins him, confusion giving way to compulsion; contagion in the manic giddiness spewing out of Steve.

“You thought—” Steve struggles through hiccups, tears beading in his lash line, “you thought you were the bad luck charm in this relationship?”

“Don’t mock me!” Eddie whines, still laughing. “I already said it was dumb.”

“It’s so dumb.” Eddie may be the cutest, dumbest thing he’s ever seen. He rubs his thumbs over his cheekbones, smile fading. “If anyone’s a curse, it’s me.” Four for four here on getting dragged into supernatural shit. Does Eddie really think homophobes are more dangerous than hell dimensions?

Eddie’s already shaking his head. “You’re a fucking blessing.”

Warmth radiates through Steve, drips from the crown of his head like a downpour of holy water. He feels anointed. Ascended. He feels— “Please tell me we’re allowed to kiss now.”

Their mouths crush together, impossible to tell who moves first, whose tongue is in whose mouth, whose desperate breath Steve swallows as Eddie rolls him onto his back. Hands roam and pull and clutch, molding the shape of him into the earth. Maybe someday, Steve thinks, if aliens invade, they’ll study these imprints like crop circles, trampled declarations of how much Steve loves this boy. “God,” he gasps into the kiss. “Missed you so much.”

“So much.”

“Don’t do that to me again. Don’t go.”

“Never,” Eddie swears. His grip tightens on Steve’s waist. “Never again, baby, I fucking promise. I think I—”

On the far side of the house, leaves crunch and branches snap as a car pulls up the drive. Boots on pavement, rowdy voices; unfamiliar; red alert.

“Spread out, boys!” the voice of Jason Carver bellows. “If that Freak’s in here, we’ll find him.”

—

part 68

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[homunculus-argument]

I was born and raised American, but with everything that's happened over the past few years I've been considering moving to another country. but I don't know if this is just "the grass is greener". Not sure if this really fits with your blog, but as someone from Europe what's your attitude towards living in the US?

I've visited there a handful of times and most of my thoughts are "damn bitch, y'all really live like this?" People in Finland like to complain about the climate, the taxes, and how stingy the welfare systems are (if you currently rely on them) or how costly they are (if you're currently not relying on them), but honestly most of the time that's because people are used to having it so good, or don't really have a perspective of how bad everyone would be doing without the infrastructure that everything runs on.

Sure, nowhere is perfect, and there's always room for improvement, but honestly the people I've met in the US only really seem to think that their system is good because they've never been anywhere else and don't know any better.

Mostly it's stuff that you'd never think about if you hadn't been to both places, like being able to trust that tap water is drinkable or that you can safely walk/bike to wherever you need to go. The US really doesn't have the kind of ability to just hang out in public places, just walking to the town and sitting on benches. Having public parks and libraries isn't really the same if you can't just walk there, and you genuinely need a car to go anywhere.

I moan and lament a lot about how the winters here are hard to endure - at the darkest time of the year the sun rises at 9 and sets before 5 pm - but I wouldn't move from here just because of that, mainly because of how reliably everything is structured here. Sure, it's all run with funds from relatively high taxes, but that is a self-feeding loop on its own. The tax-paying workforce isn't a disposable resource that's wrung dry once and tossed out when it's broken, but even when you're just another cog in the machine, you're one that's maintained, not replaced if broken.

I had a lot of breakdowns when I was younger, largely due to depression and other mental issues I had due to the undiagnosed ADHD. When I started breaking down at work in my old factory job, they couldn't just fire me on the spot because of the workers' union fought tooth and nail to make sure that you can't throw people out for getting sick, and mental illness is treated no different from other health issues. I was allowed to take two years off work in order to study into a career I thought would fit me better. That didn't turn out well either, but I was still allowed to bounce back and forth between odd jobs, sick leave, and studying - all on government pensions during the spots when I wasn't working a wage - until I found the right diagnosis, the right medications, and the right job.

It's not a hyperbole to say that I owe my life to the ample and studry social welfare systems that Finland has in place. Sure, you're just another brick in the wall, a cog in the machine, but if you keep breaking down, it takes a long time until they completely give up on you if you can somehow make them believe that you're trying, because it's cheaper for the tax system to figure out how to make you fit into the machine than just toss you out. A human being is an expensive investment and if getting you to the right job, education, diagnosis, medication or even arranged housing is what it takes to get your ass back into the workforce, they'll at least try.

I'm perfectly happy to pay the taxes here to fund the system that helped me onto my feet when I was in no condition to function, and to support the people who never do recover, find their place, or be able to support themselves on their own. And I can live with the peace of mind that even if I fall apart again, that safety net is still there. It's brutal, pragmatic, and regards your health and welfare as a means to an end - to get you working and paying taxes again - but they still do prioritise your welfare. Cogs are cheaper to maintain than replace.

[kyunghwannie]

Hello, dear readers.👀

This is a Random Rant Post, But I Need to Address Some Real Nonsense.

Alright, let’s talk about something that’s been bothering me: why do some people have a personal vendetta against Male Reader x GG Idol stories? Like, did a self-insert male reader steal your lunch money or something?? Because the level of anger some of y’all have is INSANE.

I swear, most of us writing these stories have never slandered GG Idol x Female Reader writers. Hell, I even even read those stories because a good plot is a good plot. But suddenly, people act like we committed a war crime just for existing.

And then there’s the real unhinged people—like the one who literally posted that writers like me deserve a painful death for writing Male Reader x TWICE or any GG idol. EXCUSE ME?! Ma’am, sir, entity from the void—are you okay? Because that’s not “criticism,” that’s psychotic behavior.

I personally got DMs from someone (possibly a woman, as their profile said) cursing me out for writing TWICE x Male Reader because, and I quote, “TWICE belong to the girls.” First of all, NO. TWICE belong to themselves. Not to only men. Not to only women. Not to the person throwing a tantrum in my inbox. They’re idols, not Pokémon—you don’t ‘own’ them.

Look, I don’t care about your gender, your sexuality, your preferences (Iam a straight boy and that's what matters to me. Other shit be damned)—write what you want, read what you want, and let others do the same. It’s really that simple. But when you start sending death wishes or acting like my mere existence offends you… yeah, I’m gonna be rude right back.

To the crybabies who get triggered just by seeing GG Idol x Male Reader stories: We will continue to write. We will continue to enjoy our stories. And you? You can go cry into your pillow or start a Male Reader Eradication Club, I don’t care. Your opinions, threats, and bad vibes? Straight to the trash where they belong.. Or just your parents need to refund you to the hospital you were born in because people like you who sends literal triggering death wishes are just disappointments.

All we want is a chill, supportive community where everyone can write, read, and have fun. Too much to ask? Apparently. But hey, I’ll be over here, vibing and writing more TWICE x Male Reader, because nothing fuels my creativity more than annoying haters. 😘

Oh, but wait—we’re not done yet. Because the hypocrisy in this situation is giving me whiplash.

So let me get this straight: I’m the villain for writing Male Reader x TWICE, but you can write GG Idol x Female Reader and that’s totally fine? OH OKAY, GOT IT. So when y’all do it, it’s “artistic expression,” but when we do it, it’s suddenly a crime against humanity?? Make it make sense, because right now, it’s looking like delusion with a side of double standards.

And to those truly unhinged ONCEs who cursed me out in my DMs, let me ask you something real quick: DO YOU OWN JYPE? Like, did you wake up one day and legally become J.Y. Park? Are you sitting in the boardroom making executive decisions on who’s allowed to write what? No? Then why are you acting like TWICE’s personal gatekeeper? Sis, bro, mysterious keyboard warrior—go touch some grass. 🌱

Meanwhile, I’ll be along with other goated writers over here, writing more Male Reader x TWICE or GG Idol content just to spite you. Maybe I’ll even make it spicier. Who knows? Life’s full of surprises. But one thing’s for sure: I’m not going anywhere. And neither are my fellow writers. So either sit back and deal with it, or keep screaming into the void. Either way—I’m still writing, and you’re still mad. 😘

And my fellow people who supports my sayings here, SPREAD MY WORD AND LET THEM HEAR THAT WHAT THEY ARE DOING IS BULLSH!T"

[the-midnight-blooms]

TILL DEATH DO US PARK | psh

pairing: yandere!park seonghwa x wife!reader AU: modern au word count: 7.9k warnings: yandere themes, mentions of a miscarriage

masterlist

Obsession (n) : the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image, desire. Obsessive (adj) : being, pertaining to, or resembling an obsession.

Her fingers ran down the brown page of the old dictionary, reeling in the words typed in classic typefaces of the past, the primitive vanilla scent reaching out to her. Gently she leaned her forehead against the window; the sway of the leaves, billowing, with the howl of the wind. The thin branches always reached out for her, and she wanted to grab onto them, allow it to ensnare its coarse body around her frame. To transgress from one form of entrapment to another. Moving between one space to another was to honour the mere notion of liberation. Freedom was her ecstasy, to get intoxicated on the thought had her stumbling down the hallways hands gripping onto the walls as the doors flung open. The void beckoned her, called for her, summoned her. She'd heed its call if only it wasn't for the shackles tied to her feet. Or for the demon that could penetrate his hand through her skin and ensnare his slender fingers around her spine; staggering her movements through the room he called his home. Under the guise of what he deemed: love.

"All you have to do is feel my love for you. Then you'll love me back all the same." Those words from the night after she married him, echoing within the pits of a dark chasm beneath her soul. Loving was a difficult emotion when she never had the privilege of experiencing it before. All this pent up sentiment and with nowhere to put it, loneliness was something she had to get used to.

Then there came Park Seonghwa.

He took that conviction without asking.

Seonghwa first saw her in a park, sat on a red and white checked blanket sketchbook on her laps, pencils scattered around her. One behind her ears, one between her puckered lips as she nimbly rubbed away at whatever mistake she had made. Alone, she came. Nothing but the comfort of herself to entertain her with no friends to listen to her, no husband to ease the persisting empty ache in her heart, not even a child to make her laugh with their extraordinary antics. Nothing but a vast emptiness contempt to haunt her. Thus she had the park with the rustle of the bushes, the laughter of children to cease the war roaming within her soul. Even the saccharine scent of the flowers eased the loneliness gnawing away at her. Seonghwa, too, was sat alone with a book spread across his laps enjoying the cool wind tousle his long hair. His wide eyes latched onto the shape of her perfect eyes, the smooth round of her cheeks, the curvature of her pink lips- her head snapped up feeling a pair of eyes burning into her. Searching the grass, high on some delusion that someone would willingly want to look at her, they finally bored into another's. Her muse. The man drawn on her sketchbook. Unbeknownst to Seonghwa, she had been hypnotised by his presence ever since she saw him. The face to the blurry man of her dreams, his sweet demeanour was enough to keep her intoxicated. She was an idiot for thinking that a man as gorgeous as himself would want anything to do with her.

To an extent it was concerning for herself to have a drawing of a stranger sitting in her notebook. Peering over at him through her lashes, he looked as if he wasn't going to leave anytime soon. Packing up her utensils and throwing them into her bag, she slung it over her shoulders sketchbook in hand. The beat of her heart quickened, as she approached him. Clearing her throat, his wide brown eyes piqued up. A pleasant smile rested upon his features as she timidly plucked up the courage to piece her words together.

"Hi, I actually drew you." Great start, that's not weird at all. Hastily, she handed over the piece of cartridge paper. Gently, he took it from her hands a small gasp escaping from his lips.

"It's great, thank you so much." Nodding, gratefully. “I- it’s very accurate.” He complimented, his beam so adorable it swayed her heart.

That’s all it took, didn’t it? He was a dream; eyes studded with stars scintillating in their wake. His name itself: “to be a star”. His soul, an unmapped constellation. There was something particular about him, like a magnet drawing her to his depths. Falling into his arms as if he was a safety net, enamouring her befallen entity. If only she knew not get trapped by a man’s insatiable beauty. Didn’t they say? A pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

Where she had adored Seonghwa, the man had become fully infatuated with her. After work, he found himself outside her home peering through her window as she carried out mundane chores: folding and ironing laundry, vacuuming and dusting the home after her own working hours. Then on the weekends, like clockwork, she woke up at 9am, and left the house by 9:30 to walk to the supermarket and collect groceries. Occasionally she’d meet up with her ‘friends’, people she’d agree to hang around in hopes of having someone to talk to even if it wasn’t allowed to be about the way her mind was collapsing in on itself. Sometimes Seonghwa was present himself- just at the back of the coffee shop, in another aisle of the grocery store staring between the space in the shelves, head down staring at a book as they exchanged whispers in a bookshop.

When he had finally plucked the courage to talk to her, he’d bumped into her in the convenience store after work-where she was rendered under contemplative thought over which drink she wanted. Through her peripheral vision she caught Seonghwa staring at her from where he was stood with a few snacks in hand. A friendly smile dawned on her, giving him a wave to which Seonghwa issued as a sign to engage in a conversation.

“Hi! How are you?” She asked, almost a little too enthusiastically for her own liking.

“I’m great, how have you been?”

“I’m good. How is the drawing?” She teased, almost a failed attempt at a joke.

“I actually got it framed, it’s on my wall.” She laughed at him, but god knew Seonghwa was not joking. He indeed did get it framed, and it was proudly sitting on the wall of his study. Her arms outstretched from the door of the fridge, pulling it open to release a massive gust of cold air. Reaching for the coffee, Seonghwa subtly shook his head in dismay. He was concerned about her coffee consumption, she averaged about four to five cups of strong coffee a day. He’d change that. “Listen, I- I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me?”

Her first biggest mistake was agreeing to the date. So destitute of attention she latched onto the idea of being with a handsome man at that-whose unfathomable beauty was what other's may have labelled as 'way out their league'. But how was she to know how insane the man was for her? On their first date, Seonghwa took her to an art museum.

"Who's your favourite artist?" she asked. It came as a surprise to her when he proposed the idea of going to an art museum. Out of all places, she didn't think art was Seonghwa's forte but his extensive knowledge of art movements had astounded her. His sweet honey voice was delightful, when he spoke it was almost as if flowers were falling from his lips.

"Michelangelo Buonarroti." The infamous obsessed artist himself. She gasped in surprise.

"He's my favourite too!" she chirped. But Seonghwa already knew, because he saw the art books aligned next to her anatomy books and pieces of Buonarroti's work on her messy worktop, littered with unscrewed paint bottles, pencils, paintbrushes and charcoal. At first he felt repulsed at her untidiness, but when he watched her clean up after herself afterwards he felt a swell of pride in his heart.

That’s my girl. She is so much like me and me, her.

“Do you draw?” She quizzed.

“Not really. I’d love to be your muse, I can sit perfectly still.” She giggled at him, shaking her head as she strolled further into the museum. At the end of their date, Seonghwa offered to walk her home as darkness befell among them.

“Will I see you again?” He questioned, as they stood outside her front porch.

“I think you will, as my muse.”

That was her second biggest mistake. Meeting up in cafe’s, parks, each other’s homes with hours filled with silence as she drew him. He learnt to draw from her, translating some of her tips and tricks for a true likeness. Instantly, she had become his muse. Gradually, the art dates had blossomed into something more. She’d come to terms with her feelings for him.

At this point, having her as his girlfriend wasn’t enough for him. He wanted all of her, every last part that existed. He wanted to come home to her every evening, her arms outstretched for him and only him. He wanted her to bear his children, to begin a family with him. He became so fanatic with this domestic fantasy, he began to start plotting ways to plaster her at his side. Especially when he came home one evening, and she was baking in his kitchen. Her hands, dusted with flour reached towards the Windsor knot. Pulling his tie, she leaned in pressing her lips to his to which he reciprocated. He smiled, placing his hand on her lower back, deepening the kiss.

“Welcome home, husband.” She joked, before shooing him out, to get changed for dinner. Slightly dazed, from the deep kiss, Seonghwa smiled to himself in the bathroom.

She wants me too.

“Here.” He placed a cup of tea in front of her, a frown complacent. “No, no coffee for you madam. Too much coffee is not healthy, then you complain about not being able to sleep.” He nagged, repressing a smile she rolled her eyes playfully raising the hot beverage to her lips.

“Hold on, I need the bathroom. I’ll be back.” He nodded, occupying himself with the cookies. She skipped out of the kitchen and up the stairs of his home. Before she ambled down the steps, a door creaked open swaying back and forth; parrying against the push of the wind. Sauntering to the door, it hauled itself open the light from the hallway spilling into the room.

The sheets of paper littered upon the desks grabbed at her attention, allowing curiosity to get the best of her she inched forward. They were pictures of her. Pictures of her going to the grocery store, coming home from work, doing the laundry. Pictures of her bedroom, her sketchbooks, her work. Frantically, her hands gathered through every page dissolving the sight of every little thing about her sprawled across the pages. Copies of her birth certificate, her passport, bank details. Where had he obtained these? Tears rushed to the brim of her eyes, her mouth slapping her lips shut to prevent any sounds from escaping.

“Nae sarang! Are you ok?” He called from the bottom of the stairs. Holding back her tears, she left the sheets as they were rushing out of the room- closing the door, but not fully shut to raise suspicion. She descended down the stairs, her pale face raised Seonghwa’s attention. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I feel a bit unwell. My head is pounding.” She proclaimed, the truth nonetheless. She could barely even look into his eyes now, feeling vulnerable and stripped bare. He knew everything possible about her that there was to know. And for what reason?

“Have you started your period? You’re not due yet, you always start at the end of the month.” Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, god he knew that too? “Ach, don’t be shy you told me.” She didn’t remember telling him, ever.

“You know I keep sanitary towels in the cupboard if you need-,”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just exhausted.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. She was full of energy when she first arrived at his home. What had happened that all of it had dissipated within a few minutes?

“Take some rest-,” she’d interrupted him once more, a sense of irritation fulfilling him.

“I’m going home.” Without a word more, she grabbed her bag from the kitchen and fled from the door as fast as she could. Seonghwa’s heart sunk in his chest, a pang settling deep as she left without kissing him- like she always did.

She didn’t call him once, after that night. Not even a message to ask him how he was. Sitting on her bed, with her knees tucked up and pressed against her chest, she pondered on what to do next. What was there even left to do? He knew everything about her, what were the chances he was still watching her in this very moment? She couldn’t go back to her hometown, he’d know where to look first. She didn’t have a friend’s house she could go to. She could move, but to where? There was the matter of her job, moving all of her personal belongings, then having to change her billing address on all legal documentation. That was fine, she could suppose, the real problem lay in how she was going to execute all of this without him knowing.

A ferocious knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts. Darting to the window, her eyes carefully peered outside to find the devil himself on her front step. As if he could sense her fixation, he looked up sending a patronising wave. Dear god, help me. Tentatively, the door unlocked Seonghwa teared through the open space; stumbling backwards as he strode to her. His pale hand settled on her cheek, bringing her closer to him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why have you been ignoring me?” Words lodged in her front, pathetic stutters escaped her- unable to construct together a rational sentence.

“I’ve not been well, and I’ve been wanting to be alone.” Her reasoning was good enough, yet he knew that there was something brewing beneath the surface. After all, he found that the pictures in his office were not in the exact order that he’d had them in. He was particularly meticulous about that sort of thing.

“You could at least return my calls, no? What’s on your mind?” His soft voice no longer soothed the pervasive yearning that existed for centuries.

“I think we should break up, Seonghwa.” She stated, attempting the control her quivering voice. Balling up her palms into tights fists at her side, she avoided gazing into his eyes for they were wrought with such brutality.

“Why? What did I do wrong? What did you see?” Squeezing her eyes shut, her bottom lip began to tremble as he bombarded her with those treacherous questions. What did I do wrong? Everything and anything that was humanely possible for a man to do wrong. “WHY? WHY DO YOU WANT TO LEAVE ME?” He roared, tears burst through the banks, pitiful cries echoed into the home.

“The pictures!” She shouted, “The pictures, the birth certificate, the passport, everything. The way that you know things about me that I haven’t even told you, the way that you’ve thrown yourself into every aspect of my life and have left nothing for myself. The way that you attach yourself to me, its suffocating.” Heaving breaths infiltrated the empty space, pearl drops slid down her cheeks, the tears tickling her jawline as they gracefully blessed the floorboards beneath them. The objects in her line of sight all began to bleed together, her head pounding with an incessant pain.

“I need you to leave, Seonghwa. Before I file for a restraining order.” It was sheer stupidity that she had not gone and done that first, yet with the persisting fear and delusional hope that it had all just been some sick dream- she refused to go to the police station. Beads of sweat lined upon her brow, her body convulsing under his despotism.

“I’m not leaving.” He ordered, a cunning smirk falling on his perfect features. "You don't understand, my dear, how long I have wanted you. Do you think that now that I have you in the palm of my hand, I'm going to let you go?" Her heart began to palpitate, as the shaking of her body cultivated a booming agony that seemed to exponentialise.

"Took you long enough, do you feel it now?" He tutted, the dissonance jarring in her ears. "Poison takes too long but I am a patient man." Black dots clouded her vision, the walls were caving in on her. Stumbling backwards her, the ground slipped from beneath her feet-meeting the floor with a distasteful grunt she glissaded into unconsciousness.

The throbbing at her temples persisted, as her eyes fluttered open finding herself in a dark room with the curtains drawn. The room was particularly large, painted in a navy blue yet adorned with light coloured furniture, including the soft, white blanket that was thrown over her. With a heavy grunt, she sat up blinking rapidly so her eyes could accustom to the surroundings. Getting out of the bed, she staggered out of the room and out of the steps, the surroundings completely different than what she knew. This wasn't Seonghwa's home, but a completely different one at that. To begin, she remembered the stairs being on the right of his room in his home. Here, the were built on the left. The kitchen was still across from the stairs, his slender figure was fixed by the kettle. Upon seeing her, he rushed to her side helping her settle at the table in the kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" He brushed the hairs from her face, paying no attention to her disorientation.

"Seonghwa, what am I doing here? Where are we?"

"This is our home now, just you and me and nobody else for miles." He spoke with a dreamy face, oblivious to her apprehension. "Never mind that. Here, sign this." He placed a sheet of paper in front of her to which her eyes reeled over the page sinking in the words. A marriage certificate. Snickering, she gritted her teeth in resentment.

"A marriage certificate? Have you gone mad?"

"What do you mean? We both love each other, what more do you want? We should just get married."

"Seonghwa, I used to love you. Until you decided to be a creep and fucking steal my personal documents. I used to love you until, you poisoned and kidnapped me to a house, god-knows-where." Her chest suspired furiously, he looked back at her as if she had just said something cursed. "This isn't love, this is obsession, and you need help." Grabbing the neck of her dress, her body gravitated towards his.

"Sign. The. Sheet." He ordered. A consternation stormed within her, his face like an angel, heart of a devil. Her hands trembled as the ink pierced through the paper, indenting the sheet. With a smirk on his face, Seonghwa looked over her shoulder only to cock his face head to the side as his tongue poked the inside of his mouth in annoyance.

‘F U C K Y O U’

Roughly, he grabbed her wrist her body falling over the chair bare feet slapping against the floor. She wrestled for hand back, as he dragged her up the steps but his strength overpowered hers. He shoved her into a bedroom, scrambling backwards until her spine hit against the foot of the bed, convulsing as he edged closer.

“Maybe you’ll learn the hard way.” He whispered, “but a pretty face shouldn’t say such hideous words.” Storming out of the room, his arms grabbed for the door handle, door narrowing the space. Clambering to her feet, she darted to the door, twisting the handle only for it to be locked in place. Her fists pounded against the wood an panicked breaths escaped her.

"Seonghwa! Let me out!" Please.

He returned at evening around six o’clock, like clockwork, with a tray of food in hand. Ignoring the pathetic rumble of her stomach, the lethargy of her muscles, the tugs and pains all digging into her heart, she denied herself his food. Because Seonghwa was a madman and even the act of accepting his morsel would give him a glimmer of hope that she’d sign the wretched document. On some days he’d sit on the chair in the corner of the room, to see if she’d eat but she never did. With her body tucked up in the bed, her face sunk into the pillow-the dim of the dusk light spilling into the room. Suppressing a groan, her fist was buried into her stomach as if it would cease its cries for food.

“If you don’t eat, then I don’t eat. How does that sound?” He provoked, getting off the chair to sit on the edge of bed where she was aimlessly drawing patterns over the bedspread.

“Delightful.” She croaked out, her throat parched, begging for a sliver of water.

“You don’t want me to fall ill, do you? If I fall ill then I can’t go to work. If I can’t go to work, how am I going to provide for you and our children?” Thwack. Her hand collided with his cheek, sending a stinging jolt through his pale flesh. Weakly she grasped at his formal shirt collar, his body oscillating back and forth.

“How dare you? I am not your wife, Seonghwa.”

“But how could you not understand that I am so in love with you?” He pushed her hands away from his collar, locking her wrist within his tight grip to place them at his chest. “I’ll tolerate all of this, just for you. Know that it hurts me to see you like this.” Tears rushed to the front of her eyes. She could not bargain with him, she could not ask for help since he deprived her of any source; having locked her in this bedroom. Whether it was days or weeks she’d been isolated, her knowledge was indifferent with her perception of time being distorted. The only option was to sign that goddam marriage contract, but even then, self-annihilation seemed preferable. She was just waiting for her body to deteriorate and one day when Seonghwa would walk into her room, he’d find her stone cold dead. With an exhausted huff he got up from the bed, still clad in his work attire. Closing the curtains, he walked out of the room shutting the door behind him. But the lock did not click in place.

A sense of hope entered her as adrenaline flooded through her veins. Silently, she got up from the bed, resting her ear against the door. When she heard no sound, carefully the door swung open the vast hallways empty as the door to Seonghwa's bedroom was fixed shut. Hurriedly, she scuttled out of the room descending down the steps-darting straight to the kitchen; the emptiness catalysing a surge of disconcerting emotions within her. Twisting the lock on the kitchen door, she sped out feeling the soggy grass beneath her feet as she headed straight for the mass of trees.

It hadn't occurred to her that the house was isolated in the middle of the woods, with at least no other home for about three miles. But she knew that the nearest town could not be too far away as Seonghwa still made his way to work every morning and to the shops on the weekends. He heavily prioritised work being a commutable distance from where he lived. She fled down the woodlands-the abrasive bark lacerating her bare feet the cold mud clenched around her toes manifesting feelings of disgust. Whilst her body ached, with no fuel but adrenaline to keep going she spared a look behind to find the dark obscuring her view of the home in the distance. Nevertheless she dashed through the woodlands.

Seonghwa realised that he hadn't actually locked the door to her room. Shit. Stalking out of his room, he twisted the handle to her room swinging it open to find it completely desolate. Releasing a tired sigh, he shook his head casually wandering out of his home to find his lover.

Sinking to the floor, the sizzling of her throat sent an abiding anguish through her the leaves crackling under her weight. Her name echoed through the trees, being carried through the wind, its entrails infiltrating her ear. Every octave raising like the pulse of her agitated heart. Picking herself up again, heavy pants penetrated the woods as panic flooded through her veins— the night carrying her through. Weighty footsteps had caught up behind her, breaths quickened as her pace accelerated tiredness tugging at her aching muscles. Her throat burned as blood hammered through the arteries, ventricles contracting. A biting grip wrapped itself around her wrist her body jerking backwards towards the perpetrator, a small weight settled on her waist as he manoeuvred her body to face his.

"Where do you think you're going?" His husky voice whispered into her ear. Exhaustion domineered her, with her legs giving out she collapsed to the earth defeated tears rushing down her face. Squatting down to her level, he grabbed the bottom of her cheek, her neck snapped back, cheeks paining from the intensity of his brutish grip- as if she wasn't subdued to enough pain already. "I asked you a question." His patience was wearing thin.

"Let me go, Seonghwa. I won't tell anyone what you did. Please-." His palm connected violently against her cheek.

"How dare you even suggest that. Get up. We're going home." Remaining settled on the ground, she wrapped her arms around herself to generate a sense of warmth to parry against the biting winds burning her supple skin. "Fine, I'll drag you there." Balling up her hair in his fist, he turbulently hauled her body in the direction of the home; her hands flinging to his to push away his tight grip.

"Seonghwa, please stop." Her cries were futile, he paid no attention to her. Upon entering the home, he lugged her up to her bedroom; her ankles hitting harshly against the edge of the stairs. Throwing her into the room, as if she was a doll, her body fell against the floor, incessant cries persisted in the haunting atmosphere.

With no option left for her, she tiredly picked her body up from the floor crawling towards the nightstand. Her hands shook as she picked up the pen, resting her cheek against the cold surface of the tabletop. The nib scratched against the crisp, clean sheet forming the outline of her signature.

“I knew you’d sign it. Thank you, jagi.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, tucking the stray strands of hair behind her ear. He had sewn the strings to her back, the day that he met her. Every limb of hers beckoned to his command.

The car parked in the parking lot of the supermarket store, her face pressed up against the glass almost repelled against the sight of so many people present at this time of day. How long had she gone without seeing so many people in one space? She was just used to herself and her husband at home. Opening up the door, a gust of wind followed them through the automatic doors, her eyes travelled up to the tall ceilings of the store gratified by large shelves packed with all sorts of comestibles. He grabbed a basket from the entrance, looping his arm through the handles-strictly adhering to his list whilst his wife reeled in the endless sight of jars which seemed to stretch out for miles.

“Do you remember what else we needed? I’ve got all the vegetables, the pasta, the jam you wanted. Need anything else for the cake?” He quizzed. Her lips pursed in deep thought.

“Ah yes! I need double cream and…light brown sugar. I’ll go get it.”

“It’s just here, I’ll go with you.” He offered. Oh, there goes my freedom. They moved to the following aisle drifting their eyes over the reams of sugar packets. “If you see the 1.5 kilo pack get that, it’s cheaper.” Humming in agreement, she inched away from him grabbing the pack of sugar from the shelf.

“KCN followed by dilute acid, it’s the reagent needed for the reaction.” She smiled, as flashbacks from chemistry lessons in college flooded back to her.

“CN?”

“Yes, you know C triple bond N. Cyanide.” The girl rolled her eyes as if her brother should have known the answer. It gave her a sense of nostalgia, knowing it was the exact same way she used to react with her own brother.

“Is there anything else we need? I got the double cream.” Seonghwa’s voice snapped her engrossment away from the siblings’ conversation.

“Can we get cherries?” He nodded, a loving smile gracing his lips. Their hands entwined moving back in the direction of the fruit aisle.

Hand rested meekly upon her belly, he urged himself closer in her direction- pressing a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder. They laid on their shared bed; the afternoon light swallowing them whole, nothing but the comfort of each other. Rubbing it softly, a small warmth generated from the friction easing the cramps in her stomach. He didn’t know yet. He still very much thought that there was a child, his child, growing in her womb. How did she submit under his despotism?

He was so excited, jumping all over the place when she revealed the news of her pregnancy to him. So much so, he spared her his anger for slipping out of the house to see the doctors without telling him. One evening he came home to her laying in bed, wracked with exhaustion. Her head picked up at the sight of him, hiding something under his coat. Raising a questioning eyebrow, he sat himself next to her—the head and arm of a bunny peeking out of his coat. Moving the arm of a bunny as if it was waving at her, she snorted nudging him with her knee.

“I got it for the baby.” Her fingers ran down the white fur, the softness relaxing the tension in her muscles. “What should we name it?” He asked.

“That’s not for us to decide. Our baby can name it.” Our baby. Our, the pronoun shocking them both. There was a prescience of acceptance that lay beneath that word; a notion that the crazed obsession he had with her was worthy of her forgiveness. Perhaps she had gone mad, tipped over the edge—her hands kicked over the precipice.

When she had asked her mother, “Why do some married couples still have children even though they don’t love each other?” Her mother laughed in her face, more mocking than it was endearing.

“You think if I didn’t love your father, I would let him get close to me?” She shrugged, was it lust that they were drawn by? Was she drawn by lust, the temptation to have her husband in all the ways no woman had ever had him before? To feel the heat of his bare skin pressed against hers, body moving in swift rhythm pumping her desire. His passion cut deeper than a knife cut through skin, bestowing his wild emotions through littering kisses as if it would seal the rupture of her soul. Mine. Mine. Mine. “I loved your father when I was having your brother, when we had you? Not so much. We just had another child, so I could separate myself from the fact that I may have been falling out of in love with him.” She often thought where her mother was now. Her brother had moved out with his wife a long time ago, severing any forms of contact. She thought they loved each other, as siblings did. They spent their nights sneaking into the kitchen, raiding their pantry, comparing each other to the ugliest, fattest people they’d seen on the internet. Perhaps it was their mother. When she had moved out for university, her mother told her not to speak to her again. At the time she thought her mother was just upset over her leaving, refusing to talk to her- barely engaging in a conversation when she came back home for the holidays.

It wasn’t until, the last year of her degree- perhaps the most stressful time of her life she had ever faced; trying her hardest to balance academia and job interviews. Eventually, she tore through the burden completing her final exams, leaving her shared dorms for the last time to go back to her home.

Except it wasn’t. For when she knocked on the door, confused as to why the key wouldn’t fit through the lock, the door opened to reveal a man she had never seen before. Toddlers were scuttling up and down the stairs behind him, a woman (who she could only assume to be his wife) worked diligently in the kitchen taking the dishes out of the cupboard. Who was this man and what was he doing in her home?

It only seemed he could ask her the same question.

“I live here, this is my property.” He demanded.

“I’m really sorry Sir, but I’m the daughter of the woman who previously owned this home. I wasn’t aware that she was selling this property.” A look of pity fulfilled his features, his once stern face softened under her statement. “If you could just let me know, if you do by any chance, where I can reach her, where she might possibly be now?” It was a desperate attempt, but here she was looking like a fool with a suitcase in hand, her small car parked behind her loaded with boxes of her University material. Hungry, exhausted and just wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed; she was deprived of that now, refused that.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I can contact the estate agents and ask for you.”

“That’s fine, I’ll give you my number. Please reach out to me if you have any news.” Taking a scrap piece of paper and a pen from her bag, she scrawled her number across the page; handing it over to him. Bidding him goodbye, she displaced her luggage back into the car; driving off and away from her childhood home, knowing it was the last time she’d ever see that street again.

It was safe to say that the subsequent years had been the most difficult years of her life. Living alone was never the problem, but she was already wrought with so much university debt and finding apartments with reasonable rent was difficult. She wasn’t proud to admit that for two weeks she had to live with a friend who was beginning to despise her, work a few jobs during the summer where she was supposed to relax in order to cultivate enough money to rent an apartment. Even after she managed to land a good job at a revered company, the struggle persisted with wanting to maintain a good image in front of her superiors. There was no money to spare for herself, a majority had been lost to rent, the remainder for food and basic necessities.

It was a punishment from her mother, she was so sure of it. A punishment for being born, a punishment for unknowingly making her life the misery that it was. She wasn’t struggling as much, especially now that Seonghwa was the primary breadwinner. He earned good money from his corporate job, enough so that he stopped her from going to work.

At the end of the day, Seonghwa was right. Nobody in her life cared about her as much as he did.

“I’m so sorry for the way that I hurt you, Hwa. You don’t deserve that.” She choked out as her body wracked with sobs. An endless stream of tears ran down her face, her husband encircling her in his arms peppering gentle kisses over her face. He wiped away her tears, before lifting her face up with a single finger to stare deeply into her eyes.

“It’s ok my love, I know why you did it.”

“No, you don’t understand. I am not a good wife to you, I lost our baby.” His face had dropped, bottom lip culminating into a quiver that ached her heart more than it should have. “I’m such a failure.” She sunk her head further into the pillow, letting her tears consume her. Slipping his hands around her waist, he brought her closer to him, her entire figure almost dissolving into him. With gentle hushes, he wiped away her tears, again, easing her wails.

“You are not a failure, these things just happen.”

Things like being poisoned and kidnapped by your ex boyfriend just didn’t happen. Things like being forced to marry him just didn’t happen. Being pressured to have his child just didn’t happen. Yet here she was, in the same situation her mother had been prior to her birth thinking that a child could be an escape from this hell hole, and the universe snatched it from her hands, mocking her desperation for emancipation.

If she went any further, she knew she’d feel obliged to slit her own throat in front of him. It was either his life or hers. Wasn’t the number one rule to prioritise your life over anybody else’s?

"Honey, I'm home!" He called out into the foyer. Ambling into the kitchen, he sought his wife pulling a cake tin from the oven. Leaning against the fridge door, he drunk in her impalpable beauty. Her hands reached for his tie, pulling his fabric, she pressed her lips to his to as she did once ago.

"Are you thirsty?" She pondered. Handing him the glass of cold squash perched on the countertop, he gratefully took it from her hands. He shot her smile, gulping the drink. Resting her head on his shoulder, he draped his hand around her pulling her closer to his body. Her eyes darted to kitchen clock, the hand circulating dreadfully slow as it usually did. Finishing the rest of the drink, he settled the glass in the sink.

Hoarse coughs had disrupted her from her slumber, her bleary eyes shot open twisting to find Seonghwa's body shaking as he violently coughed into a tissue. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, skin paling significantly. With squinted eyes, she sat up-he jumped out of the bed swinging the door open. Hastily, she followed after him. Light from the bathroom illuminated the dim hallway, treading closer she sought him hunched over the toilet, vomiting. When his sickness ceased, a painful gasp released from his lips- he began to wheeze slumped against the bathtub as his body continued to convulse.

"Hwa?" Lingering in the doorway of the bathroom, she questioned his dishevelled state. It was perhaps the first time she had ever seen him so ill and vulnerable. "Can you get up?" He sat up wearily, shaking his head no. His entire body wrought with agony, limbs limp as if they were tied down by shackles.

"Get me some water, please." His weak voice had barely travelled to her.

"Do you know what it feels like to be tied down, now?" With creased eyebrows, he stared at her bewildered. The objects in his line of sight were bleeding together, her figure wavering. Head pounding, he attempted to crawl to her but his arms felt heavy. Was this her doing? What had she done to him? At first, he thought it was food poisoning but he hadn't eaten anything from outside of this home. He had made sure to overlook all of the dates on the food packages, after all he could not have him or his wife eating expired food. "How long were you going to keep me here, trapped like a bird in a cage?"

It was her. His mind ran at a million miles a minute, barging through the barriers that blocked his rationality. Each thought was strained, as if a metal rod had pierced straight his head severing the nerves in his brain. It was the drink. She had poisoned him. His breaths quickened, as panic coursed through his veins.

"You deserve to suffer, Park Seonghwa." Malice present in her tongue, a humourless chuckle left her-she moved away from the door frame speeding back to her room.

"Help me, jagiya!" he shouted. The nerve of that man. To be in such pain and still dare to address her as if she was his. Grabbing the packed bag from her wardrobe, slipping her phone into her pocket she raced down the stairs. Slinging the jacket over her, she rushed out of the home shutting the door behind her. The slam of the door, silenced the voices in her head. Was that all it took? A low, soft hum propelled her away from the home, the light of the bathroom blaring into the woodlands. Birds chirping in the warmth of the morning air, lotus flowers blooming from the grass of his front lawn. Wind blew at the loose hair that sprung from the loose knot. The scent of liberation was as rousing as it could get.

It had taken over a year for her to not jump every time someone had approached her. She was so sure that Seonghwa was dead now, when she laced the cup with poison, she didn't expect the effects to kick in so quickly. Poison, usually took its effects several days after consumption. It was the cyanide inside the cherry seeds that had inspired her, the most deadly chemical compound capable of causing death within a few minutes or hours. She wasn't sure if she had extracted it carefully, having crushed the cherry pits or stored it since Seonghwa had the habit of rummaging through every cupboard in the house as if she was hiding things from him. Regardless, she prepared herself: packing a bag of essentials with rolls of cash and ID, and completely moved into a new city far away from Sacheon. Though her hand would freeze when filling out forms. Was she still a 'Mrs'? Were you still bound to your spouse in holy matrimony if they were dead? Is that why they said, 'Till death do us part'. Staying hidden in a city fearing that Seonghwa’s ghost would haunt her through the streets, was not enough to keep her alive and paying the bills. So, she took up a job at a college lecturing in Chemistry, it was more than enough to stop her from going insane. Despite the impartial pupils, the overachievers, and the lesson planning and marking that had accumulated, she enjoyed her job nevertheless. For a while it felt like she had freshly graduated University again, struggling to make ends meet. When the load lightened, it was as if mercy had finally been bestowed upon her.

Why did the grocery store never have anything when she needed it the most? No cocoa powder. No demerara sugar. Lemon juice? No, it seemed that they had run out of them too. Drifting down the aisle of supermarket, she huffed throwing the apples into her basket before drifting into the second aisle for jars of pasta sauce. With her mind elsewhere, her body collided with another's the poor shopper dropping the things from their hands. Apologising profusely, she knelt to pick up their items. Raising to lock her eyes with another familiar set.

"Mum?" She blinked, the cans plastered to her palms as her heart began to palpitate. Her mother's mouth was agape, an unreadable expression tightened across her features. "How are you?" Wasn't this the question that you'd ask over the phone, after a long day at work-followed by promise to see her when you had a day off? Not a question to be asked, as if you had bumped into an old friend from high school.

"I'm great. I saw you, a few years ago. In Sacheon, with a man."

"Yes, he was my husband."

"Was? I knew a handsome man like that wouldn't stick around with a woman like you." She bit her tongue in annoyance. Of course her mother never changed with the snide remarks. There didn't seem to a scent of an emotion on her face even having seen her daughter after a long time.

"He passed away, Mum." The remark faltered the smirk on her mother's face. Then when her mother asked if she had any children, she shook her head in dismay. "I miscarried. I lost my baby, the same way you lost yours."

“You’re still my baby.” The nerve of that woman to make that preposterous claim. Had she even felt the maternal bond each woman had felt to their child?

“Am I? Am I really? Because I wasn’t your baby when you left me abandoned outside my childhood home, leaving me to question if you were dead or alive. I wasn’t your baby when you told me you never wanted me. I was never your baby. But you were always my Mum. And that means more to me than me being your child does.” A tear slid down her mother’s face, under the dim lights in the empty aisle of the grocery store where she poured out her soul. “I never had, and perhaps never will, have the privilege of being a mother. Regardless, I swear that if I ever neglect my child the way you neglected me, I would let them kill me in cold-blood. Such is a death that is deserved for a woman like me.” Dropping the cans into her mother's basket, she looked down at her feet.

"I don't even want to know why you became estranged from me. I just want to know if you regretted it." An uncomfortable solicitude hung in the suffocating air. Tragic. Refusing to let the tears escape from her own eyes, she stalked off in the opposite direction ignoring her mother's melancholic call for her name.

When she entered her home again, she dropped the bags onto the kitchen worktop-walking to her bedroom to tear the jacket and scarf off her body. A bunny was perched on the bed, encrusted between the two pillows encased in a cotton light blue cases. She froze. Her breaths accelerated, fear pulping through her.

It couldn't be.

It wasn't possible.

"I've missed you, jagiya." A single tear slipped down from her eyes, her sobs lodged in her throat. His warm breath tickled her ears from behind her, he pressed his lips to the nape of her exposed neck.

“How?” She whispered, refusing to look around and stare him in the eye. As if that would take back the fact that he wasn’t dead, stood behind her in a home she’d built far away from him.

“I knew what the cherries were for. I saw the poison, I just replaced it with something less toxic.” He whipped her body around, her body hitting roughly against his chest. “You’re mine, and you belong to me.” He sang, sliding his hands down to her waist, he swayed their bodies to the rhythm of his saccharine hums which serenaded the air, tantalising her ears. Once again, he attached the strings to her back, controlled the movements of her body. Resting his face in the crook of her neck, he fluttered his eyes close in the night. “You’re mine, until death do us part.”

•••

All Rights Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

A/N: yes, I am inherently deranged for using such a cutie pop banner for this fic. BIG thank you to the loml @n0v4t33z for helping me decide on the name of this fic!

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

[bluepandaears]

I am not a dedicated author and haven't written anything approximating a fic in longer than I care to think about, but this just sort of happened. I figure if I was going to put it out into the world there's not much better place than this.

Smile

When Charles was 9 his dad gave him a black eye, it wasn't the first and certainly wouldn't be the last. It was summer holidays and he'd lost track of time playing outside and missed curfew. He only ever got visible bruises when school was out and the first of the season never failed to surprise.

As soon as he was allowed out of his basement room he walked down to the park and sat on a bench enjoying the fresh air and openness of the grass field. After being locked up he would always seek out the most open, outdoor space he could find. Imagine he could dissolve into the wind and float away with the clouds.

Today he's across from a playground. From where he's sat he can see some kids playing. Looks to be a group of siblings, each with an ice lolly. As Charles watches the middle child stands at the top of the slide waiting to go down. In an act of dominance the oldest one runs up the slide blocking it and in doing so drops his lolly. Anger flashes across his face before he grabs the ice lolly from his younger sibling. Hurt the middle child lashes out, but not at her older brother. She doesn't go to their parents either, not paying attention a little ways away. No, she runs over to the youngest and snatches his ice lolly from his little hands. Charles watches as tears well up in his little eyes, unable to retaliate or deal with the loss of a treat. Charles wonders if maybe now the youngster will turn to the adults. Instead he watches as the young boy, no more than 5, wedges himself into a crawl space under the climbing frame and cries alone over his loss.

It is at this point that Charles resolves to never treat others the way his father treats him.

******

When Charles is 12 he has his first crush. A girl named Hazel. She has blue eyes and light brown hair and barely knows he exists. She's a few years older and speaks in that self assured way people do when they know exactly what they are talking about and don't care what others think.

Charles hasn't learned to talked like that.

He never gets up the courage to talk to her.

******

When Charles is 14 he meets a boy that he is absolutely sure he will be best friends with forever. Elijah laughs at his jokes and doesn't mind when Charles watches him study. Charles is older now, and wiser, so he's positive he knows what he's talking about. Even if he still can't always talk like Hazel used to. They hang out nearly every day and it's brills. Until his dad finds out and decides Charles should stop putting so much effort into another boy. He gets a good lashing and a sprained shoulder and wears one of the many dark red polos his mum bought incase his back bleeds through. The next time he hangs out with Elijah he flinches away from touches and doesn't smile when Elijah tries for a joke. Charles won't explain because home life isn't something he knows how to talk about, and the whole afternoon is just a bit uncomfortable. They don't hang out as much after that and eventually Elijah stops trying.

It is at this point that Charles resolves to alway keep smiling. Even if he's hurting. People have left before when he flinches away but it's never hurt to loose someone like it hurts to loose Elijah.

******

When Charles is 15 he gets sent to boarding school. He thinks it might just be the best thing ever.

Then he learns how poorly he actually fits in. That's ok though, Charles has had a lifetime of learning how to fit in. He has his smiles, and his red polos, and his easy way of brushing off bad things and not passing them on.

It'll be fine.

Until it's not.

******

When Charles is 16 he dies.

In death he meets Edwin. Edwin has brown hair and eyes that Charles is sure change colour with his mood. He talks like Hazel and laughs like Elijah. He studies and doesn't mind that Charles watches. He doesn't leave when Charles forgets and flinches because Edwin flinches too.

Charles still smiles when it hurts because he can't risk loosing Edwin, but then Charles finds things don't hurt as much as they used to.

He still wears his red polo because it's habit by now innit? And he can never be sure that when things get bad his back wont still bleed from memory.

He finds it's easy to be nice to Edwin and protect him from bad things. Edwin had been through Hell after all so Charles figures he deserves someone to protect him from bad things now.

******

Over three decades later when Charles is still 16 he learns that he doesn't always have to smile. That the people who matter to him now will not leave just because he's hurting or having a bad day. That if he's hurting and doesn't smile they will actually stay closer.

He learns that he no longer wears the red polo in case his back bleeds through. He wears it because at some point in their friendship Edwin once said he looked good in red. And Edwin's opinion matters more than anything.

He learns that he likes being good because he is good and not because he is trying not to be his father.

Charles no longer worries about when it will be summer holidays and the first visible bruise. Instead he and Edwin go on walks through parks and along the river and enjoy being free.

And freedom with Edwin is better than brills.

~ fin

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for taking my dog to sniff in the grass near an apartment building?

🐶 for reference so i can come back to it

I (20) am back in my home city for the summer while i'm away from college, and i'm staying with my family which includes my dog (almost 4f) who is the love of my life. she's very sweet and cuddly around people but requires a lot of exercise and LOVES to sniff around, but we can't take her to dog parks because she was a covid puppy and was never socialized properly and thus ends up pretty aggressive towards other dogs. (this is an us problem and i am trying to work on this with her this summer).

i'm trying to reinforce some of the training i did with her before i left for college, which my family hasn't really kept up. part of this is recall training, which she always responds to if there's treats involved. i want to keep that ingrained in her in case of an emergency.

there is an apartment about a block away from my house, which has this huge lawn right next to it and a couple of benches. i never see anyone there, but it's a really nice grassy area and my dog loves to go sniffing around there. since there aren't any significant triggers for her around, usually what i do is drop the leash (i keep it connected to her) and follow her around for a bit. i also always call her back every so often and treat when she comes to reinforce her recall. it's a fun time for both of us: for her because she likes to sniff and roll around in the grass, and for me because i like spending time with her!

today we were doing what we normally do when i heard some knocking. i looked around and saw an old lady in one of the ground floor apartments knocking at me (i knew it was at me because nobody else was there). once i finally made eye contact with her, she made this aggressive pointing motion with her hand for us to go away. she kept doing that until we left (i'm super conflict-avoidant so it didn't take much).

i'm worried that i might have accidentally broken a law or something. as far as i'm aware, anyone is allowed to just go hang out there. my dad says he's seen other people and their dogs there as well, and i also know for a fact that the building is pet-friendly as there are a couple of dogs who bark from inside sometimes when my dog and i walk by (this doesn't bother her). i also am never more than 15ft away from her at any given moment, and she's very well behaved and comes when she's called. the worst she'll do is pee on the lawn or poop, in which case i'll pick it up and throw it away. i think i'm a responsible dog handler, and i don't do anything with my dog that could potentially danger her or someone else.

so AITA?

[morimemichael]

Not Allowed

Dbd!Myers x f!Reader

Reader it’s new to the realm, she gets a good first impression on everyone; killer and survivor. Tho there’s certain someone who seams to became too obsessed with her. She doesn’t get it, she thinks this killer hates her with all their guts. Sooner than later she finds that some interactions and relationships are not allowed in the realm.

WG: Some angst and cursing Michael actually talks but this is not actually a warning lol mentions of death, blood and gore. Michael and Ghostface have a bromance cause deep down they are besties. Dbd!Michael it’s based on RZ! Michael here. Use if y/n twice on the entire fic. Ghostface removes his mask. Michael removes his mask. Big old Pewpaw Kazan Yamaoka, aka, the ink is a great hugger. Happy ending(?)

You were brand new to the realm, like a new born baby. You didn’t understand what was going on, one night you went to bed and the next thing you know it’s the uncomfortable feeling of grass and wood sticks on your back. This was beyond clear that it wasn’t your bed.

You woke up scared as hell in an unknown forest to you, it’s was late at night you could tell and you didn’t met a single soul this far. All of that was vanished when the sound of what it seemed a camp fire stroked your ears, and for your surprise it wasn’t just a camp fire you could distinguish the sound of human voices too. It didn’t seem too far from were you currently were. So you walked a little faster while covering your chest with your own arms in a sutil attempt to combat the cold weather.

You stepped closer to the people in the camp fire to ask for help and maybe an answer to what was going on here. As you got closer could see a bunch of girls and a few boys. One of the girls had red hair and running clothes, the Oder one had short black hair, she was wearing glasses, the other one had also shirt hair, she was wearing a black and red shirt and loosen pants, on the other side; one of the boys was tall with very short black hair and when you herd him taking he had a british accent, the other boy had also black hair but it reached the mid of his face.

“Uhm, excuse me?” You said. Your voice low but clear. The red hair girl turned around to look at you. Suddenly everyone stopped talking.

“Oh my god…” The red hair girl stated. “Guys…I think we have a new partner!” She continued.

Everyone smiled at you and presented themselves. It turned out the red hair girl’s name was Meg Thomas, the girl with the glasses was Claudette Morel, the other girl was Nea Karlson, the British guy was David King and the other guy was Jake Park.

“Did you just arrived?” Claudette asked.

“Yeah…I don’t know where I am.” You stated.

“What’s your name girl?” Meg asked.

“Where are you from?” Another question, this time Jake.

“She’s gonna need a lot of help.” You herd David talking.

“Guys, why don’t we just let her sit with us and let her talk?” Nea said. It was the first time she talked.

You smiled for the first time.

You sat next to Meg and Nea and proceeded to tell every detail about you, your name, your age, where were you from. You told them that last night you had a fight with your parents and when you went to sleep you woke up here.

“We get you, we really do.” Jake spoke.

Everyone told you their personal story. How they end up here, but most important of all they told you what was going on in this place.

“There’s uhm…there’s something that we call the entity, that rules all of this place. She can do what she pleases with us and with everyone.” Nea talked looking at you.

“To survive and to keep every thing, no matter how small it might be, here with us, like some food and water, we have to go through trials.” Jake explained.

“Trials?” You asked confused.

“Yeah, we must repair five generators to open the exit gates.” Meg continued.

“That’s it? Just five generators? It’s a piece of cake…” you laughed.

“I wouldn’t say that if i were you…” David looked at you.

“Why not?” You talked back.

David sight, then he explained the most difficult part.

“We must face a killer that will be with us in the same place.”

“WHAT!? A real killer? Like from slasher movies?” You stated.

“Yes, a real killer.” David stated.

“N-no, no, I wanna go home, please!” You yell at the sky hopping this entity would hear you and somehow pity you.

Everyone looked at you with sad eyes, they knew you weren’t going home anytime sooner.

“Wish we could do something about it, I’m so sorry.” Jake spoke again after a long time.

You moved your head to the sides and looked down, a long sigh scapes your mouth. “Shit…” that’s all that came from you. Everyone remained silent for a while until you spoke again.

“So, how this trial thing works?”

“Well, the entity select some of us for the trial, four survivors to be exact. To help you in the trial you can carrie an object with you, this objects being a toolbox or a flashlight or a med kit and others. Every object has their own use, the toolbox can be use on the generators or to sabotage the hooks the killer use to hook us, by the way; the killer’s main goal is to hook us all in those hooks, flashlights are meant to blind the killer and save your teammates that se going to get hook, and last but not least the med kit as its name suggests can be use to heal yourself or your teammates. Also when you get hook-“ Claudette was interrupted by survivors who just came back from a trial. Four survivors emerged from the dar fog of this place.

“Gosh, that trial was so easy, I need something more challenging!” A young girl with blonde hair spoke.

“Hey Laurie, who was the killer this time?” David asked her.

Laurie? Like the same Laurie from the Halloween movies? You thought to yourself. The intrigue of knowing if you were right was eating your brain, you know you wouldn’t last any longer so you had to ask her.

“The trickster.” This girl said looking at David.

“Uhm excuse me, Laurie? Like Laurie Strode form the Halloween movies?” You finally asked her.

“Yes! I’m her. You must be new right?” She smiled back at you.

“Yes, in fact I got here a few moments ago.” You then proceed to present yourself.

“So nice to meet you! I know we’re gonna be good friends, watcha say new girl?” Laurie had a content face. New girl huh? You liked the new nickname.

“I hope so! By the way I loved that nickname!” Laurie smiled back at your words.

Nea joined your conversation with Laurie explaining further more how the trials work.

“Continuing with the trials, we’re gonna spawn in a map. In this map you will find certain constructions you can use to loop the killer, evade them or confuse them.

“Ok.” You listen very carefully to what Nea said.

Sooner than later you realize that some of the survivors that came with Laurie were from the Resident Evil game franchise. Leon and Jill were here, you wondered if others form the same games were too. You smiled when you saw Chris and Claire in this place too. You presented yourself like you did with everyone else and they seemed to like you as much as the rest did.

“We should tell you that some survivors came along with their respective killers, generally they are related to them. For example, Leon and me came along with Nemesis.” Jill explained.

“So…if you guys came along with Nemesis that means you Laurie came along with M-“

“Yes, I came along with Michael Myers.” She finished the sentence for you. The second you hear that afirmation you knew you no longer wanted to get back home.

“Gosh that’s awesome! I love the Halloween movies, as much as the Resident Evil games or the Scream movies. I love Halloween season so much, and Halloween loves me.” You gave the guys a mischievous smile.

“That’s great! But do let me tell you that most of the killers aren’t nice as us survivors. Some of them lack empathy and act rude. Tho I have to say some killers are nice sometimes.” Leon’s voice was calm but it sounded firm.

“I see, so uhm…Michael?” Your question was meant to find out how he acts in this place.

“Well, Michael has his “I think I could spare you” moments sometimes, but most of the time he just hooks us…he’s very accurate I would say.” Laurie didn’t have anything left to say about Michael.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of disappointment and excitement, you wanted to face him so bad by now. Eventually the time for your first trial came, thankfully you weren’t alone, Laurie got picked too. You asume that the most optimal object to take with yourself for your first trial was med kit.

Soon the trial started and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw that the killer you were going against was none other than Michael Myers himself. You were over excited, you wanted to say hi, let him know how much you liked his movies. You wander how he was going to act this time, you assumed since you were new maybe he could spare you. He was lurking near the generator you were currently working on, unaware you were conscious he was there.

Something inside you made you leave the generator and get closer to Michael. You could see he was stalking Jill, who was also picked with you, David was here too, somewhere on the map. You got closer and closer to Michael until you were near his back. The sound of a wood stick breaking under your feet gave you away. He stopped on his track and tilted his head to the left making you know he heard you. Your heart was ricing at this point. He turned around completely to face you. You could hear him breathing behind his mask. His blueish eyes analyzing you. The leafs under his feet made a cracking noise as he slowly walked towards you. Walking in circles around you he kept looking you up and down. Something form you caught his attention, maybe you reminded him form someone, he didn’t know. One thing was certain, besides looking you he was also stalking you. He made a final step in front of you, this time he was very near you. You instantly thought it was your end when he lifted his kitchen knife at you. You closed your eyes ready to get hit and downed, but the empty feeling of nothing tearing your flesh apart made you open your eyes. Yes, he was still there but his didn’t made a single move against you, he didn’t even tried to down you.

“I-i uhm know you! I love your movies.” You didn’t know why you said that. You felt so stupid. He didn’t answer of course he just tilted his head to the left.

He started moving forward through the map that’s stroke you late it was Haddonfield. You were following him, you didn’t fully understand why he didn’t try to kill you or stab you. Asking him questions didn’t seemed a bad idea to you tho. “So, how you end up here?” And another one “How long have you been here?” And another “Why don’t you talk?”, “Don’t you miss your home?”, “I told you i love your movies right? I think i did..” You even told him your name and your age and the place you came form, even how you end up here. But he never answered, all he did was stopping whenever you asked something and turn around to look at you.

Later than sooner you realize he was heading toward Laurie, who happened to see all the interactions between Michael and you.

“New girl? What are you doing?! RUN!” She screamed at you. She stepped forward to grab your hand, and just as she saw Michael was going for you she stepped in the middle of you to. Michael grabbed her instead. He grabbed Laurie by the throat and buried the long kitchen knife in her abdomen.

“OH MY GOD LAURIE!” You scream in panic. The young blond girl struggled against Michael who buried the knife deeper fully killing her.

“LEAVE HER ALONE PLEASE, DON’T HURT HER!” Blood leaving Laurie’s body as he throws her on the street asphalt. He lowered his knife for a second and walked to your side, he looked again at you, this time inches away from your face. You closed your eyes waiting for your inevitably fate, which it never came. He lifted his knife again and went for the rest of the survivors, Jill and you were left until it was only you.

“Shit…” you muttered to yourself. You were just meters away from Michael who was facing back at you and still had his knife up.

You heard a little noice of something opening near you, but Michel herd it too. This time walking towards you, ready to curse him you saw how he walked pass you a few meters away and turned to look at you again, this time putting his knife down. He look down at what it seemed to you like a little door on the street, and look back up at you. You didn’t understand. You catch up with him and looked him dead in his dark eyes.

“Fuck..you..and this place and your stupid movies!!” He gestured down to the little gate again.

“I don’t get it!! I don’t know what it means…freak.” You were really starting to hate him, or you were just scared. Claudette didn’t finish to tell you that this things happen frequently. Deaths happen frequently, but you just didn’t know it. Michael gestured one last time to the little door and then looked up at you.

“FUCK! I don’t want it! Screw you bastard!” You push him a little bit, you knew this time you went too far when he grabbed you by your throat and push you against the nearest parked car. You tried your best to hit him hard, unfortunately he didn’t even react.

“I-i can’t…can’t breath Mich-michael…” You felt your air leaving your lungs. He gave you his signature look and move his knife closer to you. Then you finally felt it. Cold, it sting like, you finally felt the pain. Then all over again, and again, and again. He stabbed you, more than once. He wasn’t stabbing vital points, he was going slow.

“Please…” You pleaded, in vain, cause he didn’t stop. Instead he got out all the knife and finally stabbed you deeper. Little pain sounds scaped your mouth, and for the first time on this place you cried. Then all turned black. Just like that you were gone.

Michael put your body down, surprisingly with gentle moves. He kept looking at your dead body noticing what was left of your tears. He wasn’t going to kill you. When he saw you for the first time moments ago something woke up in him, he didn’t know what it was. You intrigued him in a way nothing ever did before. He wasn’t bother by your questions, the first time he looked at you was because he didn’t know what to do, he analyzed your gestures your face, your eyes...the other times he stopped when you asked him a question was on purpose, he wanted to look at your precios eyes just to be sure he wasn’t making it all up. He didn’t want to kill you, but…why did you act like that? He wanted you to leave, damn he even offered you the hatch. The second those hurting words left your mouth he felt attacked. He was trying to be nice, to do something nice…why couldn’t you be nice to him too? He was hurt, you caught his attention, but you hurt him. Why? You even said you loved his movies, why were you being so rude to him? He let his knife fell to the street, looking down he brought one hand to his masked face and one single scream was heard on Haddonfield that night. He was the only one left there.

The feeling of your death still lingered on your body the first time you came back to the camp fire. Laurie, Jill and David were already there due to that they have been killed earlier before you. You couldn’t help but feel awful.

“He…killed…he killed us. Like we were nothing.” You sounded so disgusted.

“Yeah new girl…most of the time it is like this. We forgot to tell you that killers hook survivors to sacrifice them to the entity. Or sometimes they can kill us with their own hand…like Michael did.” Laurie explained. You were so relieved to know that even if you or anyone gets killed they came back.

“I tried to be nice…i-i really did. I even want sure if he was going to kill me, but then he got you Laurie…” You continued.

“I saw all of it. And it was rare! He never acted like that with new survivors.” Laurie exclaime surprised.

“What you mean?” You replied back.

“He wasn’t just stalking you…he seemed to be analyzing you as well…who knows for what or why?” Laurie confirmed.

“Well that didn’t go well did it? I think he hates me…”

“I think he saw something in you. He likes you…” Laurie’s word were spoken so low you didn’t hear her, tho the rest of the survivors did, and they shared the same theory. Because killers can be nice sometimes, you heard killers like Ghostface, or Deathslinger, or even Oni had a good side….but Michael? He was known to be nice just three or four times since he got in the realm. It was unusual his behavior. And they know it, specially Laurie who came with him and Danny the Ghostface who seemed to grow closer to Michael over the years.

On the other hand, in the distant across the camp fire were the killers. They were all in the same place, hanging and resting like survivors did. It existed a physical barrier that separated the camp fire form the killers. Both survivor and killer could get near this barrier but couldn’t cross it. Survivors could meet the killers on trials or if the decided to go to certain map or place. Once there they could interact. But some interactions were not allowed. It’s not like something bad would happen to the survivor or the killer, it was the fact that the entity didn’t want that in her realm. It was known that when a killer didn’t do well in the trial, the entity would punish them, maybe she would make them see something they fear or hurt them the most, something about their past maybe. This only happens when the entity consideres it necessary.

Danny, Kazan, Caleb and Herman were watching the trial. They were also surprised Michael tried to spare the new girl. Of course the also saw how you rejected the offer. Michael came back to the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, head pointing down.

“Hey Mike, you’re okay?” Danny asked him, his vice distant due to the ghost face mask. Michael didn’t answer he just looked at him. It’s not that they didn’t hear him talking tho, this time he just chose to remain silent and walk away. Danny was going to follow him but Caleb stopped him.

“Leave him be, give him some space…” Danny looked at him, then his head turned to look at Michael walking away. His eyes looked down behind his mask. He then decided to walk away too.

“Rejection can hurt.” Kazan said. His English still had a fainted Japanese accent.

“Sure does.” Herman added.

Michael made sure there was nobody with him. Once he realized he was all alone, his hands reached the bottom of his mask and pulled it up, reveling his face. Long blond and a little dirty hair covered part of his face. He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes, the way you walked with him while asking questions, your hair, your face…then he remembered those harsh words leaving your mouth. He wanted to understand, he needed to understand so bad why, why did you do that? He was trying to be nice, he usually isn’t. He knows he’s mean, selfish, he has a dark twisted heart, if he even had one. He find himself surprised by the choice of letting you go, to leave through the hatch. He lives for the hunt, the cat and mouse play, the adrenaline he feels when he kills. He’s no good and he knows it very well. On the other hand he felt hurt at your words…he felt…something was wrong with him, it must be right? He never experienced anything let along feelings. So he got to the conclusion that he was just offended by some words. You had offended him, yet here he is, thinking non stop of you.

Back to the others, Caleb was taking with Kazan.

“I think…I think he either likes her or she became his obsession. I mean, she seems like a nice girl, we didn’t cross paths yet. He’s the first one she goes against.” Said Caleb.

“Dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has it.” Kazan abruptly said. Caleb wasn’t following.

“Excuse me?

“Soul.” Kazan explained. “His soul is dark, twisted, small and very broken, but he has one.” He finished. Caleb rises an eyebrow at Kazans words as to say he is not understanding him.

“Souls, I can see. Souls, I can sense.” Kazan said.

“It’s that so? How’s mine then?” Caleb teased.

“Baka…” It wasn’t rare at all for the Oni to speak Japanese now and then, he just told Caleb he’s a moron.

“Oh come on Kazan! You know my Japanese it’s not fresh!” Caleb protested then saw Kazan walking away.

Days turned into weeks in the realm and you were getting better at trials and so far killer you face killer you got to like you, not as much as Michael apparently. The things with him didn’t change unfortunately. Whenever you two go against each other he tries to give you hatch even if he didn’t sacrifice anyone. All the words that left your mouth were hate words and curse words. You decided if he was going to hate you you will hate him back. Tho deep down you didn’t like that idea. Now and then you catch yourself waking pass the limit of the barrier, just in case you see him. At this point it was like a dynamic. You would face him in a trial, get at his nerves, sometimes he would try to give the hatch anyway but you always complain. And that ends in painful death. You felt like he kills you slower than the rest on purpose. He won’t admit that he also walks pass the limit of the barrier, but in his case he does see you, he sees everything thing you say or do. Of course he does this intentionally. He doesn’t know why he keeps torturing you like he does, or even why he keeps torturing himself watching you knowing nothing will ever happen. Maybe all he wants is to make you hurt, because that way he gets to hear you begging him and saying his name so low.

Michael…please. Stop it.

A soft beg said in a soft voice. All you ever mean by this is for him to stop killing you like he does. He gets you sacrificed sometimes, but you rather get sacrificed a million times than to feel the cold of his kitchen knife stabbing you deep in your guts in the most slow way possible.

By now, you have met all the survivors and went against every killer. But you were closer to Laurie, Nea, Jill, Leon, Yun Jin, Feng, Yui, Oni, Ghostface, the Deathslinger, the Spirit and Wesker. It’s not like you didn’t like the rest of killers and survivors, you just were closer with some. You would often speak with Wesker to hear about genetic stuff, and then you would tease him about some random word you thought it was funny. He would look at you and say something like:

“Hey don’t push me new girl, you will not want me to go Michael!” He laughed. His sense of humor was evident not shared with yours.

“That was not funny Albert.” You said, he looked down.

“I apologize.”

“Rude..” You smiled when you heard Kazan saying that when Albert left.

This far you couldn’t really complain about your staying here. You wish things with Michael were different tho. There was this time when you faced The Doctor, and you were carrying a flashlight, you were getting good at flashlight saves, everything was laugh and fun. You blind him several times, and save your teammates a couple of other time too.

“Hey stop it with the flashlight, new girl! I can call you new girl too right?” Herman asked, annoyed but with a yet friendly tone. In response you pointed the flashlight to his face and granted permission to call you bay your nickname.

“Come on!!! Stop it! I’m warning ya!” He yeld.

“Or what doc?” You really weren’t taking him seriously. Next thing you know is you’re hooked then unhooked, and hooked again. The second time one of your teammates unhooked you, Herman tunneled you and killed you with his own hands.

When you came back to the camp fire you were laughing like a maniac. You really had a good time, not fully caring if you got tunneled or not. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t like that. Not.a.single.bit.

What happened next? The next trial you went on, you and Feng were the only ones left, and guess what? Your were going against Michael, again. This time was different, he actually down you with normal hits and hooked you, it was your first hook when Feng tried to rescue you. It’s not necessary to say Michael grabbed her before she could unhook you. He grabbed poorFeng by the neck and then looked at you, then back at Feng, she knew what was coming. He killed her with his own hand many times before, she didn’t mind at this point. But you? Oh boy you did care…

“Michael…” You say terrified. He tilted his head, he didn’t say a single word but you knew he meant to say “what?” He lift her from the ground and started to get his knife out.

“No please…Michael,” You knew he saw that trial with Herman, you were having fun with the flashlight, then you got tunneled, but you didn’t care, why did he? You could tell it was some type of pay back on Herman, because Feng was his survivor. But..you weren’t his…

Of course Michael was getting his pay back, he just wasn’t going to admit it to you. Pay back exactly for what? For the tunneling? Or maybe was cause he saw you laughing and having fun with Herman instead of him. He thinks he deserves that from you too. Or maybe not, by the way he kept killing you he didn’t doubt why you hated him so much. He just didn’t know what to do. Deep down he must feel that he has to hurt you bad because you hurted him, you kind of rejected him, and one part of him resented you for that. But his other part knows that giving you the worst death of the trial was the only way to get you to talk nicely to him…the way you beg…maybe he wanted so bad to hear you beg cause he couldn’t let himself beg you for attention, for that thing he felt only wfor his mother and his little baby sister, a little bit of love.

Him? Begging? Michael Myers never begged. Victims beg him for mercy, beg him to spare them. He wouldn’t allowed to do that himself.

“Please!!! PLEASE!! LET HER GO!” He didn’t listen any of your words, and the tip of his knife threatened to go deeper into Feng’s belly. You didn’t know what else to do, what else could you say.

“I’m sorry Michael! I’m so sorry, it’s my fault!” The desperate plea for Michael to stop for a second. He knew you didn’t mean to apologize for how you been treating each other. You meant that Feng death was your fault. He turned to look at you. For a second you thought you got it, he would stop. Reality hitter you like a truck when you heard Feng’s desperate cries of pain.

“NOO! PLEASE! FENG!” You cried and sobbed hard. “I’m so sorry Feng.” You apologized to your already dead friend laying on the cold snow of Ormond.

“Why…” Tears falling from your eyes like waterfalls. “Why are you doing this to me? Why I’m not even allowed to have friends…I need them Michael…” you continued.

He remained silent.

“I fucking hate you…your making it impossible for me to be here!” You reclaim.

Imposible for her? He thought. You were the one who put his world and all he knew this entire time upside down. If your harsh words hurt him, this hurt him even more. All of a sudden he got closer to you, and closer….to the point you two were face to face. He hit you with his knife while you were hooked. It was already too late when he noticed that the sharp blade of his knife had cut deep on your throat.

Your face of sudden realization he sliced your throat and your were bleeding out was too much for him. He closes his eyes every time he kills you, but this was too much. This felt way more painful that his normal killing mode. Tears running down your face as you tried to cover your bloody throat in pain. Not being able to tolerate seeing you die like this in so, so much pain, Michael left. He left you there alone to die in the cold.

The trial ended and Michael came back before you, stepping into the other side of the camp fire with the rest of the killers, he was met with Danny, Kazan and Herman.

“Bro…was cutting her throat open really necessary there?” Danny asked him, not really judging him, cause after all you got sacrificed and that what counted. Michael leaned back against the nearest tree there. He looked at Danny, and for the first time since he met you he decided that talking wasn’t going to hurt him that bad.

“No it wasn’t. I don’t know why I did that.” He answered Danny’s question.

Herman decided to join the conversation too.

“Are you okay Michael?” Herman asked. Michael didn’t reply what he expected. He looked at Herman, and for one second he felt ashamed of what he did to Feng Ming, but specifically why he did it. And then something he never thought he would say.

“I’m sorry about Feng Ming.” Herman opened his eyes more…if that was even possible.

Michael gathered himself from the tree and walk away. Kazan made a gesture to Danny. Follow him, that’s what he was tending to say. Needless to say Danny got the hint almost immediately. Danny stood up and quickly tried to put up with Michael.

On the camp fire side, desperate cries and tears came down your face. It turns out that, since Michael cutted your throat while you were still on hooked, when you came back you found out by Laurie’s words that a thin but long scar adorned you neck. You couldn’t believe it. You loved using necklaces and stuff, but now? You wouldn’t be able to use one without the scar sticked to your neck like a bad tattoo.

“I can’t believe this…” You cried. You were so weak that Laurie was holding you by your left arm as Rebecca told you to go to the medical support room, which it was only another part of the camp fire, but with the few things Rebecca could gathered around to help, heal and examine other’s wounds.

“It’s ok girl…we got you.” Laurie reaffirmed. You wouldn’t stop crying. Rebecca was walking in front of you, and Laurie still by your side. You heard a distant “Michael wait!” You recognized that voice immediately.

Ghostface…Danny. You thought. You knew He was close with Michael so you figured out he must be with him.

If I see him I’ll kill him. You thought to yourself. Of course you knew the odds of actually killing a Killer were none, %0. But this time Michael has gone too far and now all you wanna do is tell him how bad he has hurt you. Was he even going to react at your words? Probably not. You turn to look at your left were the barrier was, and you were right. Ghostface was trying to keep up the pace walking Michael had. Laurie seemed to notice you notice Michael on the other side, and gesture to Rebecca to stay with you for a moment.

“Hey, Michael…HEY!” She spoke caughting his attention. Michael stopped and turned to look at Laurie as she got closer and closer to the barrier.

“What’s your deal with her?! You went too far this time! She came back crying and sobbing like an animal!” Michael didn’t react to her words, which only made you angrier. You stepped closer to the barrier as well next to Laurie, this time you were beyond hurt.

“Why…? Why you hate me su much?!” That’s all you could ask.

Michael looked at you but to he was showing no emotions, and you were really starting to suspect it was not due to his mask, you truly believed he hates you for something you couldn’t completely understand.

“You know what? Fuck it I’m done trying to talk to you and to ask-no, beg you to speak back to me and tell me what I did wrong…” tears running down your face.

Michael saw you crying, leaning against Laurie for help. The effort you did in your last trial with him was too much to handle for your little frame. Besides, the feeling of getting your throat cut open was awful. His eyes looked down behind his mask, he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. The sound of your cries and sobbing were tearing through his chest, straight to his heart, if he even had one. He didn’t put a name to what he was feeling and experience when you were with him or near him, all he knew was death, blood and pain. He couldn’t afford to feel anything else…right? With that in mind he turned around and walk away silently.

“Yeah, walk away…like you always do.” You said in a low tone. Throat still hurting for the previous abused it received. He pretend no to listen to what you say. He couldn’t help but feel how something inside started to break.

Michael wondered if the entity was going to do something about this eventually. Little did he know that in reality, the entity was amazed by you and how you treated Michael the first time you met him. Needless to say, that the entity knew how both of you felt for each other. And the only reason she was going to allow what she was going to do, was because she knew both, you and Michael, would react eventually and arrange the differences between you two.

The entity had a plan.

Michael kept stalking you from the dark the rest of the night, that’s how he found out you wanted a choker to cover up the nasty scar. He wasn’t alone tho, Danny was with him. “Ahh…I really would like a choker.” Those were your exact words.

“You heard that Mike?” Danny asked looking at him, smiling behind his mask. Michael nodded.

“I..want to apologize..for..everything I did to her.” Michael said, looking down, eyes to coward to look at you complaining about the scar, a scar he gave you.

“Hey! Now we’re talking!” Danny’s voice a little bit enthusiastic. “How you plan on doing that? I don’t think by just saying that she will even consider to forgive you man…”

“I’ve got an idea…” Michael looked at Danny, then proceeded to whisper in his covered ear what he was going to do.

“It sounds great Mike! You’ll will need lots of paper and fabric. Maybe your mask supplies might work that thing as well!” Danny said looking at your throat’s scar.

“I’m going to Haddonfield.” And with That Michael made his way to his own home town.

Michael spent all night on Haddonfield working on something to give you as for an apology. On the other hand, you didn’t do much, you didn’t had trials that day, until like 6 o’clock you spent your time talking with Kazan, and Danny.

“I don’t like my scar…”

“Scars are sings of fight, if you survive fights it means your strong, therefor scars shows strength.” Kazan spoke.

“I agree with this big red guy here.” Danny added.

“I guess your right guys.”

Somewhere meters away from you, on the killer side, Evan and Caleb were sharing a interesting conversation. You see, Evan since he’s been here long before most of the killers he can speak with the entity sometimes.

“So…your telling me the entity’s plan is basically hope for the best? There’s no way we can know how he will react to it. He has never been punished before!” Caleb said.

“We gotta trust her plan Caleb.” Evan said, his gaze looking up where the entity is supposed to be.

“I hope she don’t do wrong.”

“She never does, Caleb. She never does.”

Time passed and you keep talking with Kazan and Danny from your side of the camp. Danny telling you something about his camera you didn’t quite catch the meaning. It was so specific and technical you didn’t even try to understand it. Then you asked Kazan to tell you everything he knew about the Samurai. You’ve always loved Japanese culture, you wanted to go someday to japan too.

“I would have loved to travel to Japan…” Your voice flooded with sadness.

“It’s so beautiful…my country…I don’t doubt you would have love it.” Kazan replays.

You were so focused on your conversation with Kazan and Danny that you didn’t notice Michael joining them. When you saw him all the joy on your face instantly disappeared. It’s like you couldn’t had one minute alone, not even a day! Kazan and Danny didn’t understand your sudden change of mood.

“What the hell do you want now?” You said, eyes wouldn’t dare to leave that white mask of his.

Both Kazan and Danny looked at each other, raised their shoulders until they looked behind themselves.

“Guys, can we move somewhere else please? I don’t have time nor the energy to deal with this freak.” You said looking dead to Michael’s eyes. Danny examined Michael for a moment and noticed something in his right hand.

“New girl…” Danny looked at you.

“What??” You already sounded pissed.

“Please, just give him a moment…” He said. It was the first time you heard The Ghostface say “please”, so for the sake of it you listed.

Michael stepped closer to the barrier, Danny and Kazan gave him space so his now was positioned in the middle. He reached his right hand to the edge of the barrier beneath him and tossed something to your side. You looked at it confused.

“I don’t get it, the hell do you want?!” You yeld at him.

Michael looks down at the object then back up at you. He wanted you to grab it. You sigh ruin discomfort as you bent down to grab it. Still didn’t catching what it was. All you knew it was soft to the touch.

“And I’m still don’t getting it, maybe I’m just stupid or perhaps you should fucking talk to me already!!” You were getting angrier every minute.

“I think you should open it..” Kazan has an idea of what could it been, you said earlier that you hated your scar, so he though maybe it was a necklace. You looked at Danny for his opinion too. He just nodded.

“Agh!! The things I do for you guys…” You said, your voice still angry. Michael couldn’t help but to feel bad you wanted to spend time with them but not with him.

Your eyes filled with anger when you saw this thing was a choker, and you didn’t even know why. Deep down you wanted to forgive him, you just couldn’t seem to find a reason.

“Sorry.” A single word scaped Michael’s mouth. It was the first time he ever spoke to you. Yet you felt it wasn’t enough. This wasn’t a worthy apology.

“Sorry? SORRY?! That’s all you could came up with?

“New girl, I think you shou-“ You didn’t let Danny finish.

“Your pathetic! Your fucking pathetic you hear me? I can’t believe I told you I loved your movies. How I regret that, I regret being nice to you..” You were angry as ever.

The bad treat continued, once, twice..you couldn’t count how many bad, nasty and hurting things you said to him.

“Childish!”

“Coward!”

“Fuckin evil!!”

“I hope you die fucking bastard, I want you dead!”

You tossed back the choker to the other side in contempt, and when you finished something scaped your mouth. Something that even in the most agitated of situations you wouldn’t even think of saying.

“Your mom was a fucking whore, a filthy slut. I bet she didn’t even wanted to have you in the first place!! Why don’t you just leave me alone, damn it!” You yelled at him hitting the invisible barrier that separated you from him and your friend killers. You knew thanks to the movie his mom used to be a stripper. His heart skipped a bit when you said that. Now he knew for sure he had a heart.

If he was hurt before now he was torn to pieces. But what torn apart his heart the most was knowing that, despite what you had just said, what he felt for you didn’t change a damn bit. With no more further a do, he proceeded to walk away. Danny followed him as usual, trying to get him to stay.

“Come on Mike! Don’t leave.” He yelled. “You went way too far kid…Kazan, looked at the choker.” He continued, he notice something written inside the choker, you just hadn’t seen it. Kazan took the little fabric from the dirty ground, wipped of the dirt and read it. Danny far gone by now.

“Kazan…? What does it say?” You asked him.

“You made me human…” This words stabbed you right in your chest. You knew very well the pain of getting stabbed, but this? This can’t be compared.

You felt awful. Why did you said that? It’s not like you even meant it. You felt your eyes filling with tears again at what you just said to him. All alone you thought that hurting him back the way he’d hurt you would make you feel better. But it didn’t. It just made you feel worse. Like you had no soul.

“I…I really messed up here, didn’t i? Kazan?” You looked at his red Oni mask.

“I’m afraid you did…” He confessed.

“Oh my god…what did I do?” You tried to see if you could find Michael with your eyes from your side of the camp. What you didn’t know was that the moment Michael tossed you the choker he made the entity put to work her own plan. You could hear a distant voice, again it was Danny.

“Hey, Mike! Hey!! Michael!” Danny exclaimed, yet no answer from Michael. Danny’s exclamations for Michael became more and more audible. Something was wrong, you knew it, you could feel it. You ran in direction of Danny’s voice.

“Dude wake up! Michael!” Danny kept saying. You got there panting and sweating. Kazan followed a little bit after.

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he was like this when I catch up with him.”

You could see his body was struggling. His left hand holding his knife, knukles white as milk. His breathing could be heard from where you were. He was getting trouble to breathe. Soft pants and groans suddenly left his mouth too. He sounded like he was in pain, but physically he looked fine. No blood or sings of injuries. It take you a lot of effort to notice through his eyes of his mask that his real eyes were glued shut and a few tears running down.

“Oh my god…his eyes! Look at his eyes.” You told Danny.

“He’s crying!” Danny said surprised.

“Something’s wrong with him. Something’s wrong with him!” You exclaimed. His groans and pants became louder.

“Ahh agh…” Michael complained. Hearing him like this putted you on desperate mode. You tried hitting the barrier unsuccessfully, even kicked it several times.

“Please let in through!” You yelled at the sky, knowing the entity will hear you.

“Do something, guys. Help him! I can’t do anything from here!”

Danny tried to shake his body. No responce. Kazan snaked his body even harder. Again, no response. You noticed some pamphlets in the ground near his boots. You pointed this out to Danny and Kazan. It didn’t took you long to realize that those were her mother’s stripper pamphlets. So did Ghostface and Oni.

“He’s being punished…” Kazan said.

“What? Why?!” You cried. “It’s because of the choker?” You asked.

“Maybe, we don’t know.” Danny spoke.

“No! Please, it’s not his fault it’s mine! I’m the one who should be punished. Please!” You begged to the entity. At this point Michael had his head looking up. Grantings of pain still scaped his mouth.

“No Michael, Michael…listen to me!” You looked at his poor suffering form. “I was wrong. I was wrong! All of this wasn’t your fault. I overreacted, okay? And your mom? Your mom was a beautiful person. She did everything she could for you and both your sisters! I was wrong Michael. I’m so sorry…so so sorry! I didn’t mean anything of this to happen…” You sobbed while explaining yourself. Michael managed to look down at you.

Desperation taking over your body, you punched and kicked the barrier. Demanding the entity to let you in just this once.

“Please!! Please, i-I’ll do anything!” You begged her.

From the distant, Caleb and Evan could hear your screams. They know what was already happening, that’s why the decided that not interfering was the best option. Nothing could have prepared the people on this realm for what was about to happen. Your hands banging the barrier were suddenly met with grass and dirt. You fall, that was for sure. But you had fallen into the other side of the camp. To everyone’s surprise, there was no barrier separating both camps anymore.

“Did just the barrier…” Caleb asked Evan. “What did just the entity do?”

“Allowing what was not allowed.” Evan sounded happy. The entity’s plan was working.

You didn’t have time to enjoy your new freedom nor did you killer friends. As soon you got up you went straight to Michael. Holding him by his broad shoulders, you reassured him.

“I’m here Michael! I’m here. Please come back to me.” You begged him, this time was different. You noticed his hands still struggling and clenched. You grabbed the hand that was holding the knife to see if you could easy some of that tension. Worried eyes examining his mask to catch any sign that he was okay.

Suddenly his struggling stopped and his head went down. Your hands fly up to grab his masked face only to be met by his free hand around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“Dude what are you doing?!” Danny yelled.

“Michael, it-it’s me…” Your air leaving your lungs. His hand dangerously tight around your neck. Threatening to break it right there.

“Judith…” He growled. The entity no longer had him seeing the posters of his stripper mother, his school bullies or his stepfather. Now he was having living flashbacks of his older sister, Judith.

“N-no, Michael please, y-you know me…” It was getting hard for you to speak due to the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t speak.” His hand squeezing harder. “I hate you.” The flashbacks of his selfish sister were really getting to him. It all was so real to him that without noticing he was getting his knife near your belly again.

“Dude-dude, if you killer her she’s not coming back, she’s it coming back Michael!” Danny said trying his best to help you. Michael looked at him for one second or two, then he continued to reach for your belly. In a desperate measure, Danny took off his ghostface mask and grabbed Michael’s hand that was holding his signature kitchen knife.

“Mike, who am i?” Danny asked. Another desperate attempt to make him come back to himself.

“L-loomis.” Michael growled at him.

“No, Michael you know me, come on! Who am i? He asked again.

“D-danny..Danny.” Michael said. You could see the tears in his eyes. He was fighting this.

“Good! Good, now, who is she? You got this you know her.” Danny cheered him up. Michael looked at you, eyebrows frowned.

“J-j…Judidth.”

“No..” You left out a sight. You cried even harder when you noticed Michael raising the knife up.

“Dude stop!!” Danny yelled again, this time ready to do something about it but Kazan had to hold him down.

“Let me go Kazan!”

“You’re only going to make it worst.” He stated, holding Danny down.

“Michael..” You sobbed. You prepared yourself when he got ready to stab you. One final stab, and you were going to see dark…fall to eternal sleep. One last thing scaped your mouth before closing your eyes.

“I love you, Michael Myers…” it was low, you hadn’t much air left. But you didn’t want to leave this world without letting him know this. You glue shut your eyes one last time to embrace his final stab. You even heard Danny screaming “Stop!! Stop it!!!” You were ready now, waiting patiently for your inevitable fate. You flinched your eyes anticipating the blade, but the blade cutted through nothing. You opened your eyes. Somehow you succeeded to get Micheal back. The entity’s plan had worked without you even noticing. He let you fell to the ground so as he did with his knife. Danny and Kazan ran to help you get up. You tried to reach for Michael’s arms but he rejected your touch.

“No…i-i” That was all he could say.

“It’s not your fault Michael.” You assure him. But he just took off leaving the three of you there. He wasn’t the only one afraid to keep touching you it appear. Danny hand left your arm and Kazan took a step back. You gave them a “I’m not following you guys” look.

“It’s just that…this barrier thing, never happened before. We never touched you before, none other than to kill you ir sacrifice you…” Danny spoke for both of them, Kazan and himself.

You reached your hand to Danny’s uncovered face, and cupped it in your warmth. He embrace it immediately. Closing his eyes and smiling.

“You look better with the mask off.” You laughed, he did the same.

“If you say so…”

“Kazan…come here!” You told him with opened arms. He seemed hesitant at first.

“Come…” You insisted, smiling.

“Hug?” He asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. The tenderness in his hug cought you by surprise for such a big and buffed man like him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes until Michael was the topic of conversation again. You asked Danny where he might have gone.

“I think I know where..” He said.

The single Street and the kind of trees in the block gave the map away very fast. You were again on Haddonfield.

“I know he sometimes comes here to make mask or whenever he feels bad or angry…I don’t know which house it’s his house tho.” Danny explained.

“Oh don’t worry I know which one is it.” You looked at his still uncovered face.

“Okay, good luck New Girl…if he doesn’t speak right away you should come back later.” He said ready to leave when you said one last thing to him.

“You know Danny…your not that bad after all.” It was the first time he heard you call him by his real name, it always had been “hey ghost!” Or “Ghostie!” It felt good hearing that coming from someone he considered a friend.

“You know y/n…Michael wasn’t wrong after all.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You did made us human after all.” You smiled at his statement then he walks back to the camp.

Once you reach Michael’s house you stepped in. Thinking to yourself he must be upstairs you went up. There was only one room with its door opened. Michael must be in there. You were reaching the end of the stairs, walking as slowly as possible to not give your self away. The house wasn’t helping much tho, with each step you made the wood underneath you cracked. He wasn’t unnoticed to the sound he thought perhaps was the wind since he had the windows open. Your small frame compared to his made a silhouette on his door frame.

Once inside his room you could see he had fully decorated its walls with handmade masks he had done himself. Just like in the movie, but that was on the prison cell instead of his real room. You saw him sat in a chair near a wooden desk. His mask still on, his head was down. His chest moving up and down.

"Michael…" You soft voice soothed his ears. He looked at his left, letting you know he knew you were there. "I'm not here to fight you. Not anymore." You said. Michael didn't react. His breathing sounded soft. Him not having any type of reaction made you move closer to him, until you were besides him. Your left hand resting on his right shoulder. Your eyes wondering the masks hanged on the wall in front of you.

"They are beautiful. You know that?" You told him giving his right shoulder little masages. He looked up to contemplate them. You didn't know how you went from looking masks to have him face to face again and your back pressed yo the wall. By now you were expecting nothing less than a kiss. He grabbed you by both your shoulders and lowered his head until it was pressed against your left collarbone.

This is not a kiss. You thought.

Soft sobs could be heard behind his mask, they were muffled by the same, but you were able to hear them. Then suddenly, he spoke again.

“I’m so…so sorry.” Your heart melted at his words and you couldn’t resist but to hold him tight against your little chest compared to his. More muffled sobs coming from Him.

“It’s okay…I’m the one that should be apologizing.” You replied back.

“You already did.” He lift his head to look at you.

You felt the urge to know how he looked behind that mask. What was he hiding. You didn’t have to take out his mask to know he was beautiful. Took your hand move to the edge of it. Michael moved his head back, hesistant.

“Let me see you Mike.” Hearing you calling him Mike was all he needed.

Pulling the mask up with little effort was necessary to take it off. And just as you spectated, he has long blond curly hair, blueish eyes a big, but yet straight nose, and plump heart shaped lips. A beautiful face, just as you thought. You cupped his face with your hands just as you did with Danny.

“You’re beautiful Michael.” Your voice like a sweet whisper. He touched your lips with his thumb, caressing them like it was a newly found treasure. His treasure.

The feeling of his chapped lips on yours was inevitable. Tho he seemed to be the first to started it, as soon as he started he wanted to finish, scared you wouldn’t like it. But you insisted to kiss him longer. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that his lips were chapped. Eventually you two separated to get some air.

“You’re beautiful.” You reassured him again. He put his forehead against yours.

“And you’re the most beautiful human I ever seen.” He replied, voice deep and low. “Y/n?” He added.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” He finally said it. Finally admitted it and gave it a name.

A little time went by and now you were sitting on his lap seeing how he made masks. Your left arm wrapped around his shoulders for support.

“So, I put more glue over here and…we are done.” He was showing you how he made his masks.

“This seems interesting to make.” You replied.

“Are you sure you never done this before?” His mouth forming a little smile. Not fully believing you never done a paper mask before.

“Oh well…you caught me. I did. But a like to see you make them.” You said honestly.

“How cute.” Your heart flinched at his words and your cheeks flushed. “I like it when you flush”

“Stop it Michael!” You gave him a little tug on his coverall.

“Never.” He said looking into your eyes and give your nose a quick kiss.

You spent the rest of the night like this, laughing your lungs out and doing disasters with his glue.

That night loud voices were heard at Haddonfield. The difference this time was that Michael wasn’t alone, he had the best company he could’ve asked for.

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry if there’s misspellings, English it’s not my mother language, have mercy please 🥹 I’m open to requests!!

[ancha-aus]

Bitty Surprise - Chapter 2 - Pov Killer

It is Sunday and that means upload day!! We are back to the Bitties!

Second Chapter!

First Chapter: [Here] AO3 link: [Here]

*--------------------------*

They got to the neutral universe bright and early.

Maybe a little too early as Killer quickly found out the store was still closed.

But that is fine! They can just… just… euh… get some things!

Nightmare chuckles “Calm down Killer. We will just walk around and see if anything has changed since I last visited.” Nightmare looks thoughtful.

Killer blinks before grinning “Yes! You haven’t been around here for a few months already! Come on! There is this breakfast bakery thing near the park now and they make amazing macarons!”

Cross frowns at him “Killer… Isn’t it early for those-”

Killer covers his mouth “Hush Crossy, we got macarons to buy and eat.”

Nightmare chuckles as his tendrils flex “Very well. Lead the way.”

Killer is quick to grab both Cross and Nightmare’s arms as he pulls them both along.

Killer isn’t sure how it all ended up being this good. He had thought that the truce would have ruined everything.

Killer had been hired to help his boss after all.

Obviously Nightmare hadn’t right away told him just why he did what he did. Back when Killer first met Nightmare he had just been one big mystery. A dark mysterious stranger who showed up in Killer’s dead world. With an open hand and an offer.

Killer had tried to attack only to very quickly find out he couldn’t defeat Nightmare. Nightmare had just looked at him, not even looking surprised. Nightmare had never lowered the open hand. The deal, a way out of this dead end.

Killer… Killer had thought Nightmare had been an illusion. And illusion made of his own broken thoughts and feelings after everything with Chara. Killer thought… Killer figured he could see where his broken mind would lead him. Let himself amuse these hallucinations.

He took the offered hand.

Only for Nightmare to pull him into a dark portal and to step out of the darkness somewhere else. So much like Killer’s own shortcuts but instead of just a blink of nothing it felt like he had travelled through very thick mist.

Only to step out right on top of grass. In the middle of a town, under the warm sun.

That… that had been the realisation that maybe this wasn’t some hallucination.

Nightmare had just said that this would be a test run, he had wanted Killer to spread negativity. Killer had been more than ready to do so until Nightmare had stopped him. No killing. Killer had been confused but made it work.

It wasn’t until much later. When Killer didn’t go into third stage as often anymore. When he got more used to being him and feeling the things he kinda felt. That Nightmare bothered to explain the balance to him. And even later for Nightmare to allow Killer to help with Nightmare’s side business.

The landlord comments are only 30% jokes after all.

Killer had been happy to help his boss. To stay by his side and never leave. Killer could honestly say he was happy there. Then the whole X event happened and they met Cross and just like Nightmare had pulled Killer from his darkness Nightmare also pulled Cross out. Even if Cross’s darkness was more of a white void.

Killer hadn’t been surprised when Cross wanted to remain, Killer had been the same.

The truce had been a problem at first. Killer knew what it would mean. Killer wouldn’t have been needed anymore. Why need someone working for you when you don’t need help keeping the balance anymore? Sure he helped with some of the management and helped research some stuff but that was hardly anything compared to the balance!

But… Nightmare never told them to leave.

Killer hadn’t dared to ask.

Cross had been braver. Asking Nightmare what they would do now. As the truce meant they wouldn’t have to do missions anymore. That the truce meant they couldn’t do raids anymore.

Nightmare had just looked at them and said it would mean they would have more freedom and time to explore some other universes. That they would actually get the chance to spend their money on things they liked to decorate their rooms or parts of the castle. That they would have time to explore areas to learn about the culture over just having to do hit and runs.

Killer and Cross had both smiled brightly. Killer has no doubts that Nightmare must think it was because of the newfound freedom.

Sure that was nice but the much more important part was that Nightmare said  ‘their rooms’ and ‘their castle.’

Their home.

Killer still is unsure how he got this lucky. You would think that with karma and after what he did and the deal he made he would only get suffering and pain. Retribution for his crimes and all that jazz.

Instead?

He has a home. With two of the best people possible.

And now Killer is on his way to get breakfast with those two people before he is going to hold bitties again!

Killer has won at life and he knows it.

He skips as he sees the bakery.

Nightmare chuckles “You are in a very good mood. I can only assume the bitties are as cute as you always wished they would be?”

Cross nods “They are! I can’t wait to hold them again. I really hope we can do this sponsor thing with the little skeleton.”

Nightmare nods before looking over curious “Were you not told his name?”

Cross opens his mouth before frowning “I don’t think so? The shopkeeper called him bitey a few times but never confirmed that to be his name.” Cross frowns.

Killer grins “Don’t worry Crossy!”

Cross pulls a face “Kills. Don’t call me that.”

Killer can’t help but keep grinning, Crossy always looks cute when he pouts “We can just ask when we visit. Oh! Do you think we can buy some snacks for the little guy and offer them to him?!” Killer can’t help but jump up and down “I think a few macarons for the little guy would be great! Maybe some extra so he can share with his friend!”

Nightmare chuckles “How about… we get some extras and ask the store manager? If we get a confirmation it is allowed we can try and give the bitty a few. If they say no we can eat them ourselves later.” Nightmare looks highly amused.

Killer nods “Sounds like a plan boss!” and he rushes into the bakery.

There is quite a line but that is okay. It gives both Cross and him time to go to the display cases and look at things while Nightmare keeps their place in line.

They end up getting a few cool snacks! Cross gets this square croissant thing with a bunch of chocolate on it. Nightmare got this cherry tart. Killer himself got the most delicious looking cinnamon roll with strawberries and whipped cream! And they got a nice assortments of macarons as they had planned.

Breakfast treats in hand they make their way over to the bitty store to wait nearby.

They start eating in mostly silence and Killer decimates his meal. Ooh so good! He looks over and snorts as he sees that Cross is just looking completely blissed out with his own meal. Nightmare just seems to chew slowly as he studies the tart curiously.

Killer tilts his skull “Not good? We can get you something else to eat?”

Nightmare looks over as he finishes chewing a bite before answering “Oh it is fine. Just a curious texture I hadn’t been expecting.” More amused “And you keep forgetting that I don’t need to actually eat.”

Killer stares before remembering that fact! Right! Nightmare only started to eat meals to… to make sure that Cross and Killer would stop forgetting mealtimes…

Killer looks down “Right… right… forgot about that.”

Nightmare chuckles “No need to feel embarrassed.” He looks at his tart “I do appreciate you both trying to also look after me.”

Killer feels his face grow warm as he shrugs. His feelings a mess and feeling chaotic.

Cross finishes his own treat and looks mournful at the empty wrapper. Nightmare shakes his skull with a smile as he pats his shoulder with a tendril “If you want we can get more before we leave.” Cross blinks before giving a bright shining smile.

Killer has to look down and away as his soul does that weird little flip again.

It is fine. Don’t worry about it.

Bitty time.

He looks up and thanks his lucky stars that the sign is just changed to open instead of closed. Killer rushes over and throws open the door. “Hello!”

“Ahh! Oh! Euh… hello!” It is the ram monster again, perfect!

Killer is about to say something when a tendril nudges him to the side and Killer follows the silent order without a second thought as he steps to the side.

Nightmare enters next “I apologise for Killer. He can be enthusiastic.”

The ram blinks and stares in clear awe at Nightmare. Hah! Killer gets it. Nightmare is a sight beyond your imagination.

The ram sputters before smiling as they look to the side, a small blush starting to appear “Sure! No worries! I was just surprised! Euh… so you are their… friend? Coworker?”

Killer frowns as he recognises those sighs. Oh absolutely not! Boss is theirs!

Cross seems to notice as well as he steps over “We all live together.” and he smiles brightly.

The ram blinks “Oh… oh! Yeah. Haha! Of course! Didn’t mean anything by it… anyway! Bitties! Right!” and they look to the side and doesn’t make eye contact.

Killer grins “Yeah! We wanted to see the little skeleton bitty! Also we realised we never learned his name!” he opens the bag of snacks “We also brought snacks for him and we were wondering if we could share some and Nightmare, that is his name, mentioned that sometimes sponsoring is a thing or like documental adoption and we were wondering what the options were concerning these!”

The ram monster just stares at him looking slightly lost.

Nightmare steps forward “How about this. Let the nice monster set up the store first and just take a short look at the bitties. After that we can sit down and talk for a while.” He looks at the store keep “Is that agreeable?”

The ram nods.

Killer grins. Killer isn’t even surprised, no one stands a chance against Nightmare being charismatic.

Killer and Cross rushed over to the right cage only to find themselves cooing. The little skeleton is sound asleep and- oh god. That was a very tiny bottle cap he was holding. That hadn’t been in there the day before. The closer they looked the sweeter it became because the bottle cap had the picture of a tiny flower on it.

A bitty too small to give a flower so it gives the next best thing they can find. That is just adorable!

Also it reassured Killer that the other bitty was still out and thriving! Well maybe not thriving but alive and doing okay!

They returned to find Nightmare browsing some of the books on bitty care as the ram monster, called Lambert, had been setting things up and getting everything ready.

After joining back together they spoke about the idea that Nightmare had before and Lambert looks considering.

“We haven’t ever done anything like this before… We don’t reserve bitties either.” they look thoughtful “However, I do feel horrible about the little guy not getting a family and may never get a family because of our own policy about not splitting up bonded pairs or groups.” They tap the desk a few times and stares at the articles they had found about the sponsoring and adopting process Nightmare had mentioned.

Lambert stares at them “And you will take this seriously? This would mean that a daily visit is the least you have to do… You could pay for upgrades or special food. However if at any point you risk his health we will step in.” Lambert waits.

Nightmare nods “Sounds agreeable enough. We may not all be able to visit everyday but one of us should always be able to visit.”

Lambert frowns and nods “Especially at the start it is important. A newly adopted bitty needs a lot of love, attention and affection to help reassure them and show them that it is all okay. Adoption can actually be traumatic for them if it isn’t done right… If we want to do an adoption process but without moving his place we would have to still do the socialisation.”

Cross nods and smiles brightly “We will happily come by daily to hang out with the little guy!”

Killer nods along with Cross. Thank everything they had such a clear schedule nowadays. Boss may not be able to visit as much but Killer already knows he and Cross can come by often to bond with their little bitty!

And maybe they will get lucky and catch a glimpse of the other bitty! Killer would love to have the matching set and get them installed at home!

There is this large window in the living room which just has an empty table under it and it would be a great place to get an enormous bitty housing! And as it is the living room they can safely include the bitties for gaming and movie nights!

But that is for later.

First!

Gain the trust of the first bitty and then the little biter will tell his friend it is okay and boom! Two bitties.

Talking about biter “What even is his name?”

Lambert looks up “Oh! Euh… we don’t name the bitties. They usually have their own names or give each other names thought they rarely share those. I just call him bitey or biter because… well… he bites… hard.” They look worried “That doesn’t change anything right?”

Nightmare chuckles “We are skeletons. We will be able to withstand a few bites.”

Lambert nods before smiling “This is amazing! We were so afraid no one would ever adopt him. But this will work great!” they look down at the simplified contract they had managed to set up “I will have to talk with my boss but this is something amazing! He will probably want to speak with you as well to iron out the details but for now I don’t see why not.” They glance at the bag of snacks “What kind of snacks did you bring him? He is a bitty after all and may not able to eat everything.”

Killer grins as he opens the bag and shows the macarons but also the fruit they brought along. Lambert takes their time to check everything before nodding “This should all be good. Obviously don’t give him everything as he tends to overeat.”

Nightmare nods “We will be careful. Could you get a small package ready about bitty care? I want to make sure we are all well prepared even with supervision.”

Lambert nods “Of course sir! I will get right to that. You three feel free to hang out with your bitty.” They smile “Just be watchful for the signs of overstimulation and remember that bitey isn’t exactly fully socialised yet, he may need a long time to warm up to you.”

Cross puffs up “Of course we will!” as he says this he looks at Killer and Nightmare.

Killer grins as he shrugs “We will just not pick him up until he initiates contact and stuff. Much like a cat you got to learn their body language and the signs for what they want.” Killer has so many stray cat friends. He is great with cats and he is ready to learn all the signs of this bitty with the same amount of care as he did for his cats!

The three of them go to the right spot and Killer grins as he sees Nightmare look at the bitty in awe with a tilted skull.

“I… didn’t realise he would be this small.”

Cross giggles “It is a bitty boss.” Even so he coos at the sleepy bitty.

Which is when bitey decides it is time to wake up. He sits up. Yawns loudly before shooting them a stink eye.

Nightmare chuckles and Killer turns to look at him “What is wrong?”

Nightmare just leans a bit closer to the cage “I apologise we were loud. I hope we didn’t wake you.”

Killer freezes and a glance confirms Cross froze as well. Of course. An empath. Bitties have emotions and Nightmare can feel those. And he is a damned expert on understanding emotions.

The bitty pauses and shoots Nightmare a look over his shoulder. Then he turns back to the bottlecap he is still holding.

Nightmare looks at the bottlecap “That is a nice bottlecap… may I see it?”

The bitty immediately turns around and hides it behind his back while he growls at Nightmare with slitted eye lights.

Oh by the stars the tiny thing looks so cute when it tries to be threatening.

Nightmare shakes his skull “I apologise again. I didn’t mean I wanted to hold or take it. I just wished to see it. It looks special to you and it made me curious. That is all.”

Bitey stops growling and looks distrusting at Nightmare. He does however slowly pull the bottlecap from behind his back and shows the front, which shows a flower. Then, even more shocking. The little bitty slowly twists the bottlecap around and in the inside of it they see writing. All three of them lean in close to be able to read it.

H + D.

And a small heart around the letters.

Killer stands there in shock. He can read. The bitty can read! And his buddy can also read and write! Holy shit!

Nightmare smiles “That looks like a lovely gift. No wonder you are so happy and careful with it.”

This causes the bitty to shrug as he hugs the bottlecap close again.

Nightmare shoots Killer a look and wait.

Oh! Duh! His turn!

Killer grins as he leans closer “We got you a little something!” He opens the bag and goes to grab the macarons when he thinks better of it and grabs the fruit. He saw the little guy eat some kiwi the day before. So maybe some stuff he recognises is better to start with.

Killer raises the container and he can see that he has bitey’s attention. Killer opens the lid to the fruit and slowly reaches for the opening to the cage. As soon as he hand nears it he can see biter starting to hiss and growl again as his black dot of his eyelight thins and sharpens with aggression.

No use to back down now. Killer needs to show that he won’t hurt him by doing this. Exposure therapy.

Killer slowly moves a few pieces of fruit into the container. Bitey hisses and swipes out a hand.

Nightmare suddenly looks up and around. Killer can hear Cross ask what is wrong but Killer can’t afford to be distracted now. He is on a mission. A mission to get an adorable bitty to like him.

He releases the fruit and as soon as he does the bitty attacks and yikes okay that are very sharp teeth. Killer freezes a he grins “It is okay. I am already removing my hand. See?” he slowly rises his hand and bitey immediately lets go and grabs his hard won prizes of kiwi.

Killer removes his hand and closes the little gate thing again. Nightmare takes his hand and looks over the bite marks.

“Are you okay?”

Killer grins “Yeah I am fine. The little guy didn’t even draw blood… but… what was wrong? You were looking around?” Killer swears if the Stars show up and ruin this for them.

Nightmare looks around thoughtful “It was strange. As soon as you put your hand into that cage I felt a spike of panic but it wasn’t coming from…” Nightmare sighs in defeat “Bitey.” He then blinks and looks over at bitey “I assume you don’t like that nickname?”

Bitey has a hard glare on his face. Which power is lessened by the fact that his whole face is covered with kiwi and his cheeks are full with food. Oh what Killer wouldn’t do to be able to rub those little chubby cheeks.

Wait.

Killer looks over “He doesn’t like the nickname they gave him?”

Nightmare nods “If I am correct with guessing where the annoyance and frustration came from. Which appeared as soon as I referred to him with Bitey.” Nightmare looks curious “He seems fine with he/him which means Lambert was right about that-” more amusement “You don’t like Lambert?” this question is aimed at Bitey.

Bitey seems to stare at them for a moment before shrugging. Shrugging! Oh god he is communicating with them!

Nightmare looks very amused “Really? They seems like they care a lot and are very careful with you.”

Bitey actually pulls a face and huffs before turning back to his snack and stuffing his little face with it.

Killer can’t stand it anymore “What is he feeling?” and he stares at Nightmare.

Nightmare thinks for a moment “Mostly when we are in focus, indifference. He is clearly used to having people come by. When talking about Lambert he seems annoyed. When talking about the nickname he was given frustrated and unhappy.”

Killer frowns as he looks at bitey “So what should we call you? If you don’t like the nickname. What can we call you in the meantime?”

Bitey looks over again before looking thoughtful. He looks around his cage for a moment before getting an idea and just… points at the hole in his skull.

Okay that seems a tiny bit insensitive and Killer is called killer.

Cross seems the struggle for a moment “euh… wound?”

The bitty shakes his skull and turns back to watch the window.

Killer frowns “Hole?” another shake.

Cross and Killer frown at each other.

Nightmare chuckles “I am sure you have something in mind but it is rather hard to read that.” He looks around “How about we give you something that doesn’t refer to your injury? Or some behaviour. It seems rather rude.”

Bitey huffs and gives a roll of his eye lights before looking back outside.

Nightmare nods “I see you are done debating about this now.”

Bitey doesn’t do anything.

Killer looks outside and grins “When is your friend coming back? We would love to meet him! Especially if he is as adorable as you!”

Bitey freezes before he turns and glares with a hard look at Killer. His eye full of fire and rage. The hissing is louder than ever before.

Nightmare blinks and Cross nudges him “Nightmare?”

Nightmare searches for the right words “As soon as Killer mentioned his friend he felt panic and fear. When Killer implied his friend was cute there was… protective rage? I think.” Nightmare looks at the bitty in curiosity “We don’t want to force anything. We just wish to get to know you both and make sure you both are okay.”

Bitey huffs as he gets up, he grabs his bottlecap, and goes into a little shelter in the container.

Now that Killer thinks about it. That is the first time he ever saw him go in there.

The three of them wait for a moment longer to see if Bitey leaves his little hiding spot but he doesn’t. They eventually decide that is enough for today and they leave but not before Killer leaves a few macarons in the container.

They meet back up with Lambert, who had managed to contact their boss, and they work on the agreement, ownership and responsibility agreements. Nightmare does most of that as Cross and Killer look around the store for anything they can use to spur up little Bitey’s, name pending, cage. The two of them can also not help themselves as they buy a very large kit to start on the bitty house for in the living room. Cross had agreed with Killer that the table in the living room under the large window would be the perfect spot.

They will probably get a lot more expansions until it is perfect. Hopefully by that time he will agree to live with them and introduce his little friend to them. For now they will be patient.

----

“Are you okay?”

“You are back…”

“Of course I am back. But are you okay? I saw those strangers reach for you.”

“Weren’t reaching for me… leaving food.”

“…”

“Here. It is good.”

“… I am fine.”

“Please eat…”

“… It isn’t fair if you ask me like that H…”

“Thank you… and it is okay… they were curious.”

“About your wound I assume?”

“Actually no… They didn’t ask about it once. Not even when I gave them a setup…”

“Weird… don’t trust them…”

“I will be fine bunny…”

“I mean it H… what if they try to hurt you? I can’t fight the large ones…”

“You don’t need to… I can defend myself…”

“I know…”

“Please stay?”

“…”

“Please?”

“… until sunrise…”

“Thank you…”

“… love you.”

“love you too.”

*-----------*

Next Chapter: [Here]

[g1rlken]

┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

part3.

Alex turner x fem!actress reader

an: this part gives slightly “the Peter” by Taylor Swift vibes

word count: 3.6k+

Warnings: mention of depression

-

It was difficult to keep on going on your whim, time and time again looking for reasons to belittle or make it difficult for y/n to work on this project. She absolutely regretted come to this godawful grassland for the world’s pettiest man’s song. Not that he hadn’t moved on, y/n would see him: hand around shoulder, slipping down the waist as he’d laugh with one of those model stand ins. Every meal. The common dining area of the hotel they stayed at, Alex was the charming machine to all these lady guests of his. She couldn’t keep on distracting herself talking to the rest of crew, small talk was fine and longer conversations were embarrassing. She felt ambushed talking about her acting hiatus because the general narrative was that she got way too into her own head, she probably did but what business was that to the intern Sam who was a disguised coffee guy. She kept on telling herself and everyone else that the ‘whole thing’ wasn’t a ‘big deal’ but god forbid someone mentions an award function, her tone would immediately get guarded as if she was being tested. As if she was on that stage again being a laughingstock. Too much. She didn’t talk at all, hence decided to order room service for almost all her meals.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Y/n exclaimed slumping her shoulders down. There was a rain forecast on their original location so they changed production to a planned cliff, second day of the same shoot and the municipality shut down entry to the place because of supposed lightning forecast. It was taking forever to finish this godforsaken music video.

“They said they’re closing it for a week.” Richard informed her with a sigh, bummed out himself. Too much time on production as it is, getting to a peculiar location as such. From the centre to outskirts through the hilly roads it was already such a hustle only to find the place shut down. “The studio said we might as well extend a while for the location since we came all this way.”

The whole crew was growing increasingly restless on this project, no more than y/n and no less than Alex who was apparently enjoying the sights. A smirk on his face, clicking a picture of the no entry sign for the joke of it, snickering as he did so. It just fuelled her annoyance. “Cant we just shoot here? We drove four hours to come here!” Y/n proposed pointing to the open grass landscape, the whole place was just gigantic dunes of grass and grey skies. The first two days of shoot, it was beautiful. With more and more delays it was the most daft place ever.

“We have done the landscape part we need a cliff shot now…” Richard trailed off with a sigh, “Look, guys, let’s stay positive yeah? We can maybe find a new location”

“We can’t, they close the roads by sundown remember? It’s already 2, I don’t think we can make it.” Alex added into the conversation, his tone was laced with amusement so bad it made y/n infuriated but she didn’t say a word given he was a master of creating a scene. Absolute zero fellowship in him, he was enjoying everyone else’s suffering coming all this way just to spite her.

“Don’t we have a pass for it? With the shooting permit?” Y/n inquired about it, such remote locations generally allow access to a shooting team on permit.

“Guess who forgot it at the hotel?” Giving a disappointed look to Sam, the coffee guy/intern.

Deadpanning her face y/n rubbed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Disappointment clouded her problem solving abilities “Don’t we have any cliff other equivalent location in this stupid place?” She said with a scoff. Every place looked identical anyways.

“What a great idea!” Alex exclaimed ironically joining his hands together, his classic taunting was about to follow “How about we find her a park bench, will that be cliff equivalent for you?”

It had already been a lot of days of this mockery and a miserable time here. At hotel, the locations, failed shoots, his constant jabs were resulting in a lot of piled agitation. “Shut the fuck up.” She said blatantly.

Richard widened his eyes as did the crew, they were busy in finding network to make the maps work and Google nearest new locations but this was rather difficult to not be moved by, Alex too, “excuse me?” he was taken aback to say at least. Raising a brow he leant forward as to express his offended demeanour.

“The whole crew is really tired, we all woke at 4 am. Packing, equipment, dress, make up-to drive all the way here only to not shoot. If you can’t contribute stop irritating people who are actually working.” She told him off crossing her arms, shifting her weight on one leg.

“Is that so? What are you doing except for whining?” Alex said with a bitter laugh.

“This is stupid” she shook her head, instantly deciding to not engage anymore given she was here for work not engage in petty conversation with him besides in front of the whole crew it was anyways unprofessional. “You’re unreasonable” she waved her hand in mid air, crossing her arms as she was turning away.

“You haven’t changed a bit. Go on go leave, you’ve never had it in yourself to stay when things get difficult.” Alex scoffed, absolutely unfiltered in front of the whole crew perhaps purposely harsh.

“Alex, I’m being professional here you don’t have to go that far.” She replied with a frown on her face, surface level comprehension of his words which she knew would hurt so much, they already were but she wanted to be removed from this conversation before he made matters worse.

“Oh you’re being professional now?” To him, anything to do with her wasn’t professional. For exaggeration, if she even breathed in his direction he was agitated. Just a huge grudge to not see beyond professionalism. “Such a professional in everything you messed up your most serious two year long relationship.”

“I know it wasn’t mutual and I regret you were hurt but this isn’t the place to have that conversation now-“ she tried to reason with him in a subtle way, instead of biting back like him she could’ve approached with bitterness of how it’s been half a year since they parted, how he was seemingly moving on yet constantly berating her for leaving.

“You don’t get to decide where and when we have this conversation? You’ve already decided enough for me.” He said mockingly, his gaze fixated on her as he stared her down. He wasn’t aware for the root of his hurt and anger, originally he knew it was because she left him yes. But other than that, the fact that she felt like just waltzing back into his life through small talk or the fact that she didn’t waltz back into his life. It was the later. She decided to break up without of a second thought because she deemed it right for him, thinking she was a burden. She decided to leave for him and all he wanted was her. Back then and even now he didn’t know what he was trying to prove to her but it was surely drifting her father from him and he didn’t know how to stop that so he just let his anger out, “Tell me, is it better now? You learned to cook did you? You take your own meds on time…if you actually do? You attend all possible award shows you’re nominated in?” He scoffed, reminding her all such things he was helping her through and she refused him. He couldn’t stomach that she wanted to heal without him and it was a rather low blow when he mentioned the award show thing, she didn’t attend award shows at all even now. He kept tabs even after the break up because It brought him a sort of reassurance that she wasn’t completely alright, not without him. He loved her so infatuatedly he didn’t know how to act.

Y/n was sick to her stomach as he went on and on, in front of everyone just spewing out her personal miseries. “You don’t get to play the martyr just because I didn’t want your help.” To think that man that once hand fed her all which he cooked, with so much love, the man who set alarms to remind her for her medicines and the award show thing. He knew it was and still is a sensitive subject for her, he put her in the exact same situation like back up at that stage again. Right now amongst the camera crew, it was just a handful of people and y/n felt increasingly uncomfortable yet he didn’t stop talking.

“I’m not playing the martyr but I didn’t asked to get left either.” He said emphasising on the word ‘didn’t’ right back at her. He wouldn’t say it but this whole lashing out was not because she didn’t want his help but because she didn’t want him and that still word.

“It’s been…” she paused, “six months.” It was really hard to see him say all that so easily and she could barely formulate words trying to fight back tears simultaneously. Just how could he show indifference so such extent.

“I’m aware.” He scoffed changing his stance looking away for one second, contemplating if he should go on because he did take a not of her quivering voice she always did that when she was about to cry, he could recall from their time together and that reminder just fuelled him even more. He knew her like the back of his hand back then, even now, yet she walked way. “You were scared I’d leave you if I got to know you were depressed but when I chose to stay you were even more scared and left me. It is so difficult to love let alone work with you!”

“Work, yes of course” she nodded slowly registering the hurt of his words bit by bit because he was going further from far. “I’m going to go revise…” she told Richard, rest of the crew as well. All who’d been witnessing this conflict awkwardly and painfully silently. Y/n couldn’t look at anyone’s faces as she walked back to the trailer, it was a bus in itself because the whole crew travelled together but if the universe had any ounce of mercy left for her nobody would join her this very moment. Her ears were numb to the silent background, she thought Alex would have the last word surely but he didn’t. She walked the longest walk back to the trailer, closing the door behind her. There was a heavy feeling in her chest, the mechanical setting of sadness. Her heart racing, mind replaying the whole ordeal. Every word, everyone’s surprised faces. She wanted to break down, tears already brimmed her eyes but then again if they were to resume shooting on a new location the very same day her eyes would be so puffy and displaying that to the makeup crew. After everything they witnessed, absolutely not. She paced back and forth air drying her tears, trying to divert her mind. She did. She thought about the dreadful night of their breakup again, she must’ve put Alex in this very situation back then. His pleading, begging voice. The man who was on his knees for her who wanted her to do anything but leave, just how right now she wanted him to do anything but keep talking. But well, both things happened and the later was the consequence of the first one. She had nobody but herself to blame and the inherent guilt crept right back in.

-

Thankfully, there was no resumed shooting later that day given the rain check was really bad to commute to another location as well so the crew all returned back to the hotel. Four hours, just staring out the window. Fixated completely y/n didn’t even look at anyone the entire ride and nobody approached her even. Straight into her room at the hotel, for dinner she ordered just room service. After an awaited long breakdown in her room she couldn’t go down and have dinner with the rest of them, the breakdown session was as it is evident on her face plus everything was so awkward after the whole ordeal. Everyone looked at her with agitating sympathy, as if her dog had passed.

She opened the door to “Room service!” knock, taking the food in, not exactly meeting the eyes somewhat hiding her face as if she was some alleyway dealer. “Thanks.”

“Miss y/l/n, I’m really sorry for what you’re going through.” The room service guy told her out of courtesy and also genuine compassion.

“What?” She was immediately confused, what exactly was he referring to?

“The whole…your ex-I was there.” He explained, not sure how exactly to term Alex lashing out on her in front of everyone. But he wanted her to know his sympathies lay with her “I was assigned by the hotel to the filming crew as a local here” he said referring to why exactly he was there in the first place.

“Oh.” Y/n nodded, wonderful. This whole interaction had the same feeling of a funeral when someone explains how they’re related to the person in subject however in this case y/n was full well alive. “Yeah…thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“For the record, I’ve seen almost all of your movies and I have loved you in every single one of them and your order is the most easiest order to make. So you’re not difficult to love or work with I’ll have you know.” He tried to be hospitable and also as a fan, he felt really bad for the actress in question. His heart was there, trying to offer kind words but it just made y/n feel ambushed.

“That’s-that’s really sweet.” She nodded with a small smile regardless. What a time! Even absolute strangers feel sympathetic to her and Alex who-no. “It means a lot…”

“Always. If you need anything, the restaurant is open till 11.” He said politely and pushed out the empty cart out of her room and bid her goodnight.

Just as she was about to close the door as the cart moved out, a foot stepped in the middle refraining her from closing it completely so she opened it instead to see who it was. “Hi.” Alex said as he tilted his head forward, he didn’t think she’d actually open the door to him.

Y/n just took a deep breath, visibly raising her guard she did not have anything to say him at this point and she couldn’t believe he had something more to say. She just stood there, trying to appear stiff but with just the first glance he could tell she had been crying. Crying really bad. He wanted to apologise, after a lot of thinking over the words shared he felt like he crossed a line. Especially with what he said, he said in front of everyone. He messed up. Apologies came cheap, he didn’t know what to say. “The shots from yesterday came in, it’s good. It’s great. Beautiful-you were beautiful.”

Tears were already formulating her eyes, just at the sight of him. The casualty of his tone after what he did, she wanted the slam the door in his face so that’s what she attempted too. Slowly closing the door but he stopped her again, “please, can we talk”

“Just go…” she sighed averting her gaze from him so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He leant a bit lower to see her face, conforming the tears she was trying to hide. He wanted to reach out and hold her but he was just out here in the lobby. He experimented professing further and she did let him inside, dejectedly moving aside y/n just didn’t want to see his face anymore.

Getting inside Alex softly closed the door behind him, anxiously she was pacing back and forth. He once made fun of her, he called this method of hers “air-drying tears, love?” he asked. She did not want him here in the first place so he didn’t breach that boundary, stopping by the small of hallway to her hotel room a few steps by the door.

“Why are you even here?” She asked firmly as she had been successful to air dry her tears back. It wasn’t pride, maybe on the prideful spectrum but she would not cry in front of him even though it hurt like hell.

“I know I can’t make things right after what I said today, I shouldn’t have said that. Especially not in front of everyone like that-you, you were at work.” He said in a calm tone leaning against the wall, “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry.”

“Okay.” She nodded without even looking at him, barely acknowledging his words because she was fixated on not breaking down at this very second.

“That’s it?” He asked, not frustrated just underwhelmed that his genuine apology accounted for so much less? “Okay?” He couldn’t tell if she was okay with it in a true sense or if she was being passive aggressively ignorant about it.

“What do you want me to say?” Y/n asked scrunching her brows as she crossed her arms.

“We are not at the best terms, I know. We both messed up, you were trying to be civil. Today I crossed a big line, I know. I really want to just make things right-“

“Then why don’t you just leave?!” She stopped his self serving closure set apology mid way, “You are here in the first place just to spite me aren’t you? To give me a hard time and so far Alex, you have been very successful-“ she was so angry, she couldn’t hold her her tears anymore as they streamed down her face breaking her voice.

“Hey, hey” he cooed softly as he approached her in small steps. Ever since he saw her face, evidence of a long breakdown on it he had wanted to just pull her into his embrace. Now she was crying again and he couldn’t fight the urge as he gently placed his hands on her shoulder to soothe her.

The familiarity of his touch, his consolation punched y/n back to the good years just him and her and they rarely had these moments where she would be falling apart but she knew that if she did, he’d be there. Just like how he was here. But this time it wasn’t healthy, this wasn’t right even if it felt so. She pulled herself away from him shaking her head as she sat on the bed of her hotel room crying into her hands.

Hesitantly he followed her, this was all so instinctive. “Y/n…” he trailed off as he knelt in front of her as she sat on the edge of the bed. She had covered her face with her hands so he tried to gently remove them as to see her face. “It’s alright, you’re alright.” He soothed as he finally got to see her weeping face. He kept on wiping her tears as new flew down her face. “You are so much stronger than this, you’ve been okay before. You’ll be okay again, just breathe.” This is what he was perfect at, piecing her back together. She held the colour only his paint brush knew.

This scenario was almost like an extremely long déjà vu, this exact scenario y/n had been here so many times. Him comforting her, so willingly and so warm. As if it was worth being this hurt, she couldn’t get words out through her crying, that perfectly but she didn’t have to for he already knew. To be loved is to be known and he knew her like she was the last thing he’d ever know, the last he’d learn. “Can I hold you?” He asked softly, eyes expectant for a yes.

Nodding she hesitantly met his eyes and she recognised Alex for Alex. After so long, she didn’t think about anything else but the familiarity of the lover she once held. The one who was holding her now. He stood up and sat beside holding her, enlacing his arms around her. A warm embrace shielding her from an awful time he inflicted on her.

She returned his embrace as well, his hand rubbing her back in a repetitive motion her weeping dying down but he didn’t let go. He didn’t want to.

Alex nestled her closer to him, words unsaid and a vague understanding. Neither of them broke the cocoon of warmth. It almost felt like a fever dream to y/n, she wasn’t aware of any reality she’d let herself be in this situation in. But here she was. Slowly drifting off to sleep in his arms. He could tell she was, he settled the two of them in a lay-down position on the bed. He didn’t think she could fall asleep and he also didn’t want to move. With her small grip at his shirt with the two of them cuddling he figured she wouldn’t want him to leave either.

He planned to leave silently once she was sound asleep, as time went on he didn’t realise when he drifted off to sleep too. Just holding her in his arms, cuddling the two of them slept on their grievances entangled with one another.

—

HIII!!! I’ve got like two more chapters left to this pls let me know what you think or I will d!3 and don’t forget to drink water xx

@indierockgirrl @turnersverse @ladydraculasthings @libertyybellls @kelizai @sagegreensimmr @supernaturalandpain

[drabbles-mc]

Static on the Line

Benny Cross x Johnny Davis

Warnings: 18+, light angst, pining, sorta AU/sorta missing scene

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: is it shocking to anyone that I'm still thinking about these two??? because it is not shocking to me 😂 hoping that i keep getting hit with inspo for these two, and for this universe in general. happy reading!

It’d been six months since Benny left. It slipped away in the wake of Johnny’s last conversation with him, when Johnny had to admit that he couldn’t give Benny what he wanted. Even though Benny hadn’t said it then, hadn’t said much of anything really, there was a knot in the pit of Johnny’s stomach that told him Benny was going to be gone. He had ridden off into the night and that had been the end of it. No phone calls, no letters, no post-cards. Disappeared off the map like he hadn’t even been there in the first place.

Johnny would hear a murmur here and there—rumors, nothing more substantial than. As far as he was concerned, anything that anyone said about Benny and his whereabouts was the truth and also complete bullshit. He had no way to prove it regardless. Maybe Benny found somewhere, someone, who could give him what he was looking for.

For Johnny, it had been six months of waiting for him to turn up again. Six months of purposely driving his car past Kathy’s place looking for Benny in the least obvious way possible. Not that he was ever there. No bike parked on the grass, no cigarette butts littering the blacktop. The place looked respectable again, the way that she had wanted it to.

He was sitting at his usual table in the bar. The beer on the table in front of him was almost gone, about to be another empty bottle stacked up against the others that were scattered around. He didn’t remember when this place became so busy during the day, too. Nights were always hectic, and in a way they always had been. But this was different.

Over the conversations, the music, the swearing, the clanking of bottles on tabletops, he heard it. The same telephone that everyone had almost argued their way out of getting in the first place was ringing. Ever since the club started growing the way it had, it seemed like the phone rang less and less. The table that Johnny was sitting at started to feel less and less like a spot at home base with each new chapter, each new member.

No one else seemed to hear it. Wahoo and Corky were too wrapped up in their conversation with each other to hear it. Most of the other guys around probably didn’t even know that there was a phone on-premises. No wonder it never rang anymore.

When the ringing didn’t let up, Johnny pushed his chair back from the table. The scraping of it on the floor is what got the two men sitting across from him to snap their attention to him. They asked him what he needed, where he was going. He waved them off, not even bothering to give the short explanation that he was going to answer the phone.

He stared at the phone for a moment, let it ring one more time, before he finally reached and grabbed it off the receiver. Clearing his throat, he held it up to his ear. “Yeah?”

Silence. Slight crackling through the line but no one returning his greeting. Johnny was aware that he wasn’t in the quietest environment at the moment. A couple years prior and he would’ve been able to hear the person on the other end of the call without an issue. As it stood, he brought his other hand up to cover the ear that wasn’t pressed against the phone, just in case someone was talking and there was too much background noise to hear it.

“Hello?” he said, almost as annoyed as he was confused. He gave it another beat before he shook his head and pulled his hand away from his ear, noise of the bar rattling against his eardrum full-force once more. “Alright. I’m hangin’ up, then.” He shook his head. “Gonna call and not say—” He stopped himself short. His chest tightened, air catching in his throat as he allowed himself to entertain a moment of pure hope. “Benny? That you?”

There was a crinkling from the other end of the line and for a terrible second Johnny thought the call was going to die without ever getting a certain answer to the question. But then he heard it, a breath of a scoff that turned into a quiet chuckle by the end of it. Not a single word said but Johnny still knew. He didn’t know how many miles stood between them, but it was irrelevant. He could still feel Benny sparking through the cord of the phone.

The laugh that Johnny let out was short, choked with more emotion than he meant for it to be. He pinched his nose for a moment, sniffling as he pulled his hand away the same way he would when he was gearing up for a fight. This wasn’t a fight, but the stakes felt just as high.

“Should’ve known,” Johnny finally said when he realized how long they’d stayed on the line in silence. “No one knows the number here anymore.”

“I do.”

His voice was still low and smooth despite the static of the line, despite how little he seemed to speak. His voice never rusted from lack of use, not even in the six months of silence that had spanned between them. For Johnny, Benny’s absence was something that was felt, not heard. But when those two small words trilled down the line he felt each day that had gone by without hearing from him.

“That’s good,” Johnny made himself speak. He tried to keep his smile muted, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention in the bar. But he knew that he wasn’t successful in hiding the emotions in his voice. He didn’t bother trying. He cleared his throat. “Bail call?” he asked.

“No,” he replied simply, but Johnny could’ve sworn he heard the smirk in his tone.

“Hospital call?”

“No.”

Now the grin was starting to break across Johnny’s face, small and defiant. He covered his mouth with his hand for a moment as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say next. “That’s good.” He paused, finding comfort in the short exchanges and long silences. There weren’t enough of those anymore. “They said you’re in Indiana now.”

“Yeah, for now.”

“Leaving soon?”

“Maybe.”

He wanted to ask. He wanted to ask where Benny was going next. He wanted to ask if Benny was going to come back to Chicago, come back home. If he wasn’t coming back to Chicago, if he wasn’t going to stay in Indiana, would wherever he was going next have room for the both of them? If Johnny packed a bag and filled the tank on his bike and took off, would Benny wait for him somewhere? Long silences in person felt so much better than this. But it was something. After six months of nothing, this was something.

It felt wrong to offer Chicago back to him. He knew it was there—it’d been there since the night he left. But selfishly, Johnny wanted to remind him. Home is still here waiting for you. I am too, if it matters any. He held his tongue.

“I’m sick of the cold,” Benny said. “Might go south. Back west. Don’t know yet.”

There it was again, that twinge of hope. “Backtracking?”

Benny heard the shift in Johnny’s tone as he asked. He didn’t acknowledge it outright, but he allowed the tenor of his voice to change too. “In a way.”

Johnny nodded and it took longer than it should have for him to remember that Benny couldn’t see it. “That’s…that’s good.”

He was never good at coming up with bullshit to talk about just for the sake of keeping the conversation going. Neither was Benny. That was part of the reason they got on so well—no one felt like they were being forced to perform in front of the other all the time. None of that had changed. Only thing that changed now was that Johnny had what felt like a million things to say, to ask, but he knew that he couldn’t say any of them. They lived in his chest with all the feelings he never learned what to do with. Johnny wished that they were sitting across the table from each other. It wouldn’t make it any easier to ask Benny to come home, to take him with him. But if they were looking at each other maybe Johnny wouldn’t have to say it. Benny could look at him and know, and he wouldn’t have to say anything either.

“Didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Benny said.

“What’s that?”

“Chicago to here,” he clarified. “Didn’t take long.”

Johnny knew that he should fight the impulse to say the first thing that came to his mind, but he was running out of room. “Won’t take long to come back then.”

There was a moment of quiet static and Johnny was braced and ready to the click of the line going dead. Wouldn’t be the first time he said the wrong thing and pushed Benny into leaving without a goodbye.

Then he heard the pull of a breath and Benny’s steady voice saying, “I’ll see ya.”

Maybe it was just a goodbye, one that he didn’t get before. It could’ve meant nothing, but with Benny every word felt like it meant something. If he meant goodbye, he would’ve said it like that.

Johnny knew that Benny would hear the way that he was talking through the breath he was holding but he didn’t care. “Good.”

The line clicked and Johnny felt his body deflate. All the worry and tension that he’d been carrying around for half a year suddenly felt lighter, felt bearable. It wasn’t gone. Wouldn’t ever be, he figured, unless Benny came back or if he finally left right along with him. But bearable was more than it’d been for a long time now. He focused on that, and on the sound of Benny’s voice still rattling around in his skull.

He set the phone back on the receiver. Looking around, no one even seemed to have noticed that he was talking on it. He had no idea how long the conversation had lasted, but clearly it wasn’t long enough to draw attention. His hand rested on the phone for a few moments longer, like it was a tether keeping him connected to a man a myriad of county lines away.

When he went back to the table, Corky and Wahoo were gone. They were up and at the pool table, one thing that they could still beat most of the new guys at. The two of them were the only ones who noticed Johnny standing by the table, staring at the empty beer bottles deep in thought. They waited for their turn and for the leader of their club to do or say something to cue them in.

Johnny contemplated his next move as he studied the tabletop. He had no real direction, no definitives. But he never did—that was always how it went with him, with the club. Just making up things as they went along. Kathy was right about that. Rules and plans cropped up out of nowhere and they were all just along for the ride. Maybe this was no different.

He was silent as he wove through the clusters of people to get to the door. Wahoo was the only one who noticed and managed to say anything. “Johnny, hey!” he called after him, a little surprised when the man actually stopped and turned to look at him. “All…all good?”

The neutral expression on Johnny’s face didn’t betray any of the feelings or thoughts that were currently darting around his head. He nodded, taking another step towards the door. “All good.”

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[slaymitchabernathy]

Deep in the Meadow

| “a bed of grass, a soft green pillow” |

The tall grass tickles his face as a light breeze drifts through the valley.

Coriolanus stares up at the sky, the same color as his eyes nearly, cerulean, or sky blue as she likes to call them. It’s moments like this, when the grass tickles his face, and his heels dig into the cold earth that he feels the calmest he’s ever felt.

It must be magic.

Soarynn’s giggles remind him that not everyone grew up in the Capitol, without trees or grass aside from the park, lined with iron fences that surround every tree and statues of people who fought in valiant battles.

The irons rots though, on both the trees and the statues. Makes him wonder if it’s really worth fighting for something if in the end, it all goes to rot.

It all goes back to the earth.

“Whatcha’ got goin’ on in that handsome head of yours?” She asks sweetly, he doesn’t really mind her questions, he doesn’t mind her at all.

Soarynn has been the one good thing about getting banished to District Twelve, arguably the least desirable District to be sent to when it comes to serving as a Peacekeeper for twenty years.

But at the same time, he doesn’t mind it as much as he used to in the beginning. It’s quiet here, calm. Locals are too poor and tired to start up much of anything and he likes the girls just fine, or well, he likes his girl just fine.

It’s nothing official since he could be whisked away to another District at the drop of a hat, but it’s something and he has someone.

Coriolanus hasn’t had someone in a very long time.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, shifting so he can be closer to her. They lie on the grass under a willow tree, just like the song Soarynn always likes to sing. Coriolanus hasn’t always been a big fan of singing, not since his mother died but Soarynn has the voice of an angel.

The voice of a nightingale really, so it’s fitting for it to be her last name.

Soarynn Nightingale is a gem beneath the coal. She’s beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful with her tan skin and freckles dotted across her face from being outside all the time.

She says each freckle is a kiss from the sun.

He wants to kiss them all and keep her in his pocket.

Her long blonde hair might be his favorite thing about her physical appearance, allowing her to stand out in the crowd of ravens and brunettes.

Her hair is soft like the rest of her, almost always in a braid of some kind since she never cuts it. She says it’s bad luck. The people here are very superstitious.

Soarynn gives a toothy grin, reaching out to brush a blade of grass from his face, “Liar.”

His porcelain cheeks turn the same shade of a red rose, and it’s been so long since he’s held one in his hands.

“Just, just thinking about how nice it is out here,” he admits, “with the breeze and the trees. It’s nice.”

Soarynn goes to sit up, her braid falls down her back and he reaches for it, feeling the ends of it between his fingers. It almost looks like the bristles of a paint brush, ready to paint him the most beautiful piece of art.

“Y’all don’t have any of this in the Capitol?”

Coriolanus goes to sit up too, feeling his pistol fall out from his waistband. He eyes it but leaves it where it fell. Soarynn would never hurt him.

“We have a park,” he offers, almost laughing at how small it seems in comparison to these rolling hills and fresh air. You can’t even see the stars back at home, too much air pollution.

One night, he snuck out of the base and met Soarynn out here, lying under the stars while she pointed out the different constellations. He had stars in his eyes that night and they weren’t from the night sky.

They were from her.

Soarynn shakes her head, placing her hand on top of his, “Seems like such a shame to live that way. Little kids growin’ up without all of this, can’t imagine bein’ cooped up like that.”

He furrows his brows, she makes it sound as if they’re living in some cage, in a zoo. That simply is not the case, the Capitol is the best place to live, everyone knows that. There you can say what you want, within reason, of course.

He doesn’t say any of that to Soarynn though.

“Well, we have other things,” he offers, “we have cars, air conditioning, department stores, television…”

Soarynn cuts him off with a swift kiss that takes his breath away. They certainly don’t have girls like her in the Capitol, bold and confident. She’s got a lot over the girls back at home.

A sweeter smile sits on her lips now, as if she knows something he doesn’t.

“It’s still a shame,” she sighs, resting her head on his shoulder.

Coriolanus gazes across the vast field, they’ll have to head back soon, dinner will be calling his and her father will be calling hers.

“I don’t see it that way,” he counters, “in the Capitol we have so much technology, we’re so advanced, it’s a different way of living really. People can bathe in their riches.”

Not him though but again, he says nothing else.

Soarynn hums as a pair of mockingjays flutter by, chirping to one another. Maybe she sees the two of them in those little birds.

“Then that’s a real shame. Some people are so rich that all they have is money.”

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