#because a show of the walking dead's popularity
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Racism is wild because what do you mean Richonne has 1500 fics on AO3 and like 50% of them are only as side characters to the most demented and godless ships you've ever has the misfortune of seeing tagged???
A CANON post-apocalyptic, relunctant allies to lovers, found family, I would kill and die for you ship and 1000 fics is IT?!?!
#it boggles the fucking mind#as a point of reference#there are 1!2!0!0! daryl x reader fics#(which btw several of which count towards the total number of richonne fics)#y'all hate Black women soo fucking bad#because a show of the walking dead's popularity#AND A GOD-TIER SHIP#with under 2k fics?!?!#oh hell is so hot for you#richonne
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#gotta say.#most of the hate towards hazbin hotel seems wicked reactionary and just an excuse to dunk on the younger generation's cringe interests#like ive done my research and most of what i found leads me to conclude that i wouldnt personally be friends with vivziepop#but thats no reason not to enjoy a popular undoubtedly flawed but fun and colorful and gorgeous thing that brings me joy.#i feel scared to talk about hazbin now like i felt scared to talk about steven universe or undertale or mlp in middle school.#not because i think im doing something bad#but because i know just saying the words is a calling card for people who want a reason to be mad and make jokes.#fucking hate posts that are just “i like hazbin hotel” “<haha isnt that guy lame and cringe” under the guise of#i dunno. morality policing? is this not the same website that says cringe culture is dead and unapologetically likes “problematic” anime#and bbc shows and medical dramas and supernatural#like whats the actual problem? give me a list#otherwise im assuming you would have bullied me in middle school and id hide my sketchbook when you walked by.
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Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?
I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.
I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?
I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:
Someone's response to this photo:
"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.
Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."
My response to them:
"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.
The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.
Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.
This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:
Literally lingerie.
We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.
In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.
Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL
Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:
Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:
Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL
In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).
I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.
In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.
Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.
Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.
In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.
In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":
"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.
Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"
Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.
Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.
There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.
Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.
(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)
#star trek#star trek tos#star trek tng#star trek voy#star trek ent#star trek ds9 was the one show that went above and beyond#1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt#oc#octrekmeta#octrek#gene roddenberry#rick berman#brannon braga#kirk#spock#uhura#rand#nichelle nichols#majel barrett#grace lee whitney#tos#tng#voy#ent#marina sirtis#jolene blalock#terry farrell
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TIRED OF RUNNING | Sinclairs x Reader
YET ANOTHER REWRITE i have no idea why Tired of Running is so popular but i've always been proud of it :) the original can be read here but i will be rewriting all existing chapters to finish it!!
SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)
SUMMARY: "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work. "They got kids."
WARNING: mentioned child abuse
NEXT
Sighing, you hit your head on the wheel with an exhausted groan. The Louisiana heat had been suffocating you ever since the AC sputtered to nothing a few hours ago. You'd left the windows open to prevent frying the inside of the car but it was still too hot. Even after living here for a few years, you never got used to the heat. It was fall for god's sake…
You lifted your head and tried to blink back the drowsiness aching behind your eyes. Driving for a week now had exhausted you and the heat wasn't doing you any favors. Everything felt warm and sleepy, making it difficult to focus on the road. A glance at your gas tank only made you groan. Nearly empty tank with no cell phone reception and two kids to take care of.
Speaking of kids, you glanced at the rearview mirror. Your twin boys - Peter and Michael - were passed out in their carseats and dead to the world. They were good kids, rarely fussy, and full of energy. They were why you'd been on the road for so long. You'd fled home with whatever belongings you could pack in your car and never looked back. Seeing their peaceful faces reminded you that it had been the right decision. Watching your ex husband strike Mikey for "misbehaving" had been your last straw. They were only two years old and he expected them to just simply know what behaviors were acceptable without teaching them anything.
He'd been the one who wanted kids yet showed no real interest in parenting. That had all been on you.
Which led you to where you were: off a dirt backroad in the middle of nowhere with the sun setting in an hour. If it had just been you, you would have sucked it up and walked to the nearest town in search of help. But with two toddlers, the feat seemed impossible. You didn't want them getting lost or hurt in the dark with no way of you helping them.
You got out of the car to survey your situation. The road you were on was mainly dirt and not well traveled. You hadn't even been certain they were roads if not for the signs just before you'd turned. Grass grew in wild, untamed patches and stretched out into a field to your left while the forest was close to your right. The trees offered minimal shade but were better than nothing. At least it was cooler under them instead of your hot car. But the prospect of sleeping in the dirt didn't sit well with you. Who knows what animals were even out there.
You pressed the heel of your hands to your eyes and tried not to cry. This was absolutely the worst possible thing that could have happened. If your husband was following you, which he most certainly was, then it was only a matter of time until he found you.
So you slid down the side of your car to sit against the wheel and curl in on yourself. It had been awhile since you cried since your husband would slap you for it, threatening to give you something to really cry about. You'd only withstood the abuse for so long because you didn't want Peter and Mikey to grow up in broken homes. But after you noticed they were being hit, you couldn't stay still. It had still been hard and you kept second guessing yourself all week if you were doing the right thing.
Hopefully you were.
A few hours passed before your luck changed. The sun had just begun to set, painting the skies in pinks and purples like a beautiful watercolor painting. It was finally cooler out now too, the breeze brushing your arms and face periodically. You'd just finished feeding the boys whatever food you had left in the duffle bags still and had decided to let them play in the little clearing nearby. You'd all been cooped up in your tiny car for days and you could tell they needed a break. They promised to stay close to you, running around nearby with sticks and their toys. Peter roared, running up to you with a tiny blue T-rex in hand. "'m gon' eat you!" He giggled.
You scooped him up and held him in your lap, watching his brother poking at the dirt with a stick. "Mikey, don't wander too far okay?"
Mikey didn't answer and you sighed. He always had problems listening, always content to drift off in his own world without a second thought. You'd read a book about childhood trauma and worried about Mikey sometimes. You stood up and were about to approach him when you heard the sound of a car rumbling. You'd never understood the phrase "your life flashes before your eyes" but in that moment you did. "Mikey!" You shouted, white-hot horror shooting through you. "Peter, get in the car!"
As soon as Peter squirmed out of your arms, you shot off like a rocket towards Mikey. His wide, terrified eyes were trained on the car headlights, which felt like a spotlight as you picked him up. The ground was illuminated with bright white light, making it impossible to hide from whoever this was. You practically threw Mikey into the car, slamming the door behind him and locking them inside.
The truck came to a stop and you faced it, squeezed your eyes tight, and prepared for the worst.
You heard the sound of the car door open and you turned to face the figure. When he finally stepped into the light, you nearly cried from relief. It wasn't your ex nor any of his friends. You felt your knees give out as a sob wracked your body, the adrenaline crash hitting you hard.
"Woah, woah!" The guy said, hurrying over and crouching in front of you. "Hey, it's alrigh', I ain't gon' hurt'cha." His voice was calm, the southern drawl making your eyes feel heavy. The headlights obscured a lot of your vision but you could make out his face. He was a little scruffy, covered in dirt, and looking at you with more concern than anyone had looked at you with in quite some time. "Shh, it's alrigh', you're okay…" You could tell he was scrambling, unsure how to help you but desperate to do so.
"S-sorry," you babbled through broken sobs. You didn't know what else to say and you couldn't stop the tears. "I- I thought you were- I'm sorry, my ex, he-"
He took you in his arms, hugging you to his chest. He was warm and smelt of dirt and rot but you didn't even care. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been hugged. Over the years, your ex had isolated you from your friends and most of your family so you knew it had likely been a good few years. So you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed.
But he didn't falter. "Shh, 's okay, you're okay. I gotcha." He rubbed slow circles in your back and smiled down at you, like an angel come to save you. "Y'ain't gotta 'pologize. I ain't mad."
You sniffed, wiping your eyes and leaning back slightly to look at him better. Definitely scruffy but charming in his own way. The look on his face was impossibly soft, so unfamiliar to you yet you craved that gentleness. "Sorry, I, um, I'm on the run. My ex, he, uh… Well, doesn't matter now. I got myself and my boys out 'n that's what matters."
The stranger's eyes widened slightly. Bright and pretty and you felt safe under his gaze, for some reason. "Your boys?"
You nodded and started to stand. He didn't hesitate to offer his arm, letting you steady yourself on him when you felt your head swim. "Yeah, they're in the car. Probably scared 'em shitless with my screaming." Your legs felt unsteady when you walked and you didn't miss the way the guy hovered, like he was braced to catch you if you fell. It was sweet.
You swung your car door open and the boys peered up at you, scrambling to try and hide their animal crackers. "Boys," you sighed, "What did I say about desserts?"
"To ask." Peter said plainly, too distracted by the stranger. "You're dirty, mister."
"Peter-!" You gasped, ready to apologize on his behalf.
But the man just laughed, clapping his hands together in his amusement. "Yeah, yeah, y'ain't wrong lil guy. Been workin' all day, hauling dead stuff 'round."
Peter looked morbidly intrigued, scooting closer to whisper like the two of them were sharing a secret. "Like… dead people?"
"Nah, nah, nothin' like that." The guy knelt down to talk with him easier, lowering his voice as well. "Animals who, uh, get hit by cars. Ain't got anyone to take care'a them, ain't like pets. So I come 'round 'n clean 'em up off the road."
Nodding slowly, Peter reached behind him and held out one of his dinosaur toys. "Have ya seen one'a these?"
The man seemed bewildered but offered him a sincere smile. "Nah, but, uh, if I do, I'll let'cha know, 'kay?"
Peter seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to his crackers. "I never got your name." You said as the man stood back up.
"Name's Lester." He gave you a gap-toothed grin, tilting his cap in a greeting. "Was headin' back home 'n saw yer car. Figured I'd come check on ya."
You smiled, hugging yourself shyly. "I, uh, ran outta gas. And with the boys, I can't exactly walk for help. No cell service either."
Lester frowned, scratching at his face as he seemed to think it over. He surveyed the three of you before looking out towards the setting sun. "Well, I ain't usually do this," he drawled slowly, "But there's a town nearby. 's called Ambrose. Could drive ya there so y'all could sleep for the night. An' in the mornin', we can swing by the gas station 'n get some gas for yer car."
"Really?" You stared at him with your mouth agape. "You- You'd help? Wh-what's the catch?" You couldn't accept he'd do this for nothing. If being with your ex taught you anything it's that no one was good for no good reason.
He smiled again, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Ain't no catch, honest. Jus' breaks my heart to see ya so freaked out."
You rubbed your arms nervously. "Sorry. I, um, thought you were my ex…"
Lester's face screwed up. "Well, whoever he is, hope he goes to hell if he'd scare ya that badly, sweetpea."
Sweetpea was new. You felt your face warm up and you looked away shyly. He seemed trustworthy and he was cute, in a scruffy boyish way. You liked him. "I- I really appreciate it, Lester."
"'Course. Got two brothers'a my own so I get it." He watched you open your trunk and shuffle the bags around. "They ain't as well behaved as yer boys though."
Shouldering two of the bags, you snorted. "Yeah, you see 'em when its bathtime, then talk to me 'bout behaving."
The two of you were able to move most of your belongings along with the boy's car seats without issue. The truck smelt of rot and you scrunched your nose up when you spotted the dead deer in the back. "Sorry," Lester said, noticing your gaze. "Was workin' when I caught'cha. I promise everythin' in the car is clean though."
"It's okay." The smile you gave him was genuine even if he seemed surprised by it. "You're helping me. I ain't gonna shame you for your work. 'sides, someone's gotta do it, y'know?"
Lester, incredibly, gave you a surprised little smile as he watched you round up the boys. "Yeah. Yeah. You get it."
"The car smells weird." Peter said bluntly as you fastened him into his seat. Mikey had gone quietly, only squirming a little to voice his discomfort at being buckled in. He never liked confined spaces.
"Be nice, Peter." You shot him a look. "Lester's being kind to us, be kind to him, yeah?"
Peter glanced over at the man and smiled, all gap toothed and sweet. "Thank you for helpin' Mr Lester."
"'Course, lil man." Lester said, climbing into the front seat and rooting around in the glovebox. "Always happy to help."
You climbed into the passenger seat beside Lester and felt the truck rumble to life. The truck was clearly old but you could tell Lester loved it dearly and took good care of it. Even if the engine shook the whole frame. The homemade charms littered with bones and feathers rattled like raindrops and he let out a little cheer. From out of the glovebox, he pulled out an old air freshener that smelt of disgustingly fake pine and strung it over the rearview mirror. "Best I got for the smell, sorry." He said with a sideways smile.
Your heart clenched. He was so kind to you for no reason and you almost teared up from the sweet gesture alone. "Thank you."
The truck rattled and the skull sitting on the dashboard unnerved you but you brushed it off. He worked with dead animals, something about it all just made sense. The boys didn't seem to care too much, happily nodding off only ten minutes into your drive.
"So how old're they?" Lester asked in a hushed voice, trying to not wake them.
"Just turned two a few months back. Twins, if you can believe it." You chuckled, sparing the boys a glance. They weren't identical in the slightest which you were slightly grateful for. You didn't want to be one of those parents who dressed their twins to look even more the same. "But, um, I guess they got to be too much for my ex. Managed to get out 'bout a week ago and we've been on the road since."
You felt Lester glance at you, giving you a once over. Unlike with most men, you didn't find yourself repulsed by his gaze. "He put his hands on ya?"
Shrugging, you turned your attention to the window to watch the trees. The sky was slowly getting darker, making them look like just black voids. At that moment, you became hyper aware of the ring still on your finger. The compulsion to throw it out the window was strong. "Yeah. A few times." You confessed quietly, closing your eyes to keep yourself from crying again. "More the boys than me, which kills me."
You didn't miss the way Lester's hands clutched the wheel tighter. "Well, there's a special place in hell for people like that. 's fuckin' repulsive." He grumbled that last part, like he didn't want the boys to hear it.
It made you laugh though. "You're right… It's just refreshing to hear." You tried to swallow around a lump in your throat. "All his friends were the only friends I had. Was allowed to have. And none of them were interested in helping me, much less believe me."
Lester scoffed. "Scumbags, the lotta'em. What happened ain't your fault, sweetpea don't let any of 'em get in your pretty lil' head that you did anythin' wrong." He paused, chewing on his lip before sighing. "My dad, he wasn't always the kindest to my brother. An' don't go telling this to nobody, ya hear? But I always hated folks who can jus' hurt their loved ones and keep goin' 'bout their damn business. Like it ain't botherin' em."
You knew he was right. It still brought tears to your eyes to have someone believe you. Someone who had no idea what your situation was and he was still defending you. Like your ex had no reason good enough for Lester to even ask about.
You definitely liked Lester.
"Town's just up this way," he said softly. The sight of streetlights was almost relieving to you after a long day of being on the road, hopping from gas station to gas station and only stopping at motels long enough to sleep. "Might get a lil' bit bumpy."
Bumpy was an understatement. You almost thought you'd crashed as you felt the wheels bounce against rocks, shaking the car so violently you felt sick. Your arm shot out to try and catch your balance against the window and you only let out a breath when the truck came to a complete stop.
You and Lester shared a wide-eyed look. "Forgot to lay the planks down."
Nothing about it was funny. But after the evening you had, you couldn't help but laugh. A genuine laugh. Something you hadn't done in a long time.
When Mikey began to cry from being woken up so violently, Lester got to him before you could. "Shh, s'alright lil' man, go back to sleep, shhh." He reached behind his seat to brush at his knee. "Sorry, almost there bud, jus' a bit further."
Eventually, Mikey settled back down, sniffling until he fell back asleep. When Lester sat back in his seat, he noticed your staring. "You have kids of your own or something? You're a natural at that."
He looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. "Nah, but, uh, used to babysit 'round here. Was always good with kids, I s'pose."
With the car on paved roads now, the drive up to the town was smooth. As expected of a tiny town, nobody was outside. The lights in the little shops were out and the houses were all dark. Except one house atop a hill, lit up like a lighthouse in a sea of darkness. Lester drove towards it and pulled to a stop just outside. It was a modest house, paint peeling off in places along the outside and cobwebs in high places of the awning over the door. "What's this place?" You asked as you quickly followed Lester out of the car. You were incredibly appreciative of Lester’s good deed but his car did smell like rotten meat.
Hopefully he wouldn’t be too offended.
"Family home. Inn's prolly closed for the night but I betcha my brothers'll let ya stay for the night." Lester said as he opened the backseat and began to undo the straps of Mikey's car seat.
You were struck silent. "I- Lester I can't impose on your-"
There wasn't any time to protest as the front door swung open. A large man stood there, dressed in a mechanics jumpsuit and wearing a hat over thin curly hair. "Les? The hell's this?"
Lester smiled all innocently, like this was a perfectly normal thing for him to do. "Heya Bo. Brought guests."
Bo stared you both down before running a hand over his face in exasperation. "When I toldja to come by for dinner, I ain't meaning to bring your pretty lil' girlfriend with ya."
You blushed and stammered but Lester spoke up, lifting a sleeping Mikey into his arms like he was a precious artifact. Bo took notice and his eyes widened at the sight. "I, uh," he stammered inelegantly. "What's with the, uh…"
"His name's Mikey." You mumbled, suddenly feeling unwelcome. It wasn't uncommon for people to look at you strangely for the twins, like they were some curse. Or maybe it was just your exes friends who felt like that.
Bo nodded slowly. "Mikey. Right." He looked at Lester and stepped aside, letting him pass into the house with your baby. "Well then. You folks like lasagna?"
You blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Whenever Les comes to visit for the eve, Vince always makes lasagna. Easy for him to take home 'n whatnot." Bo gave you a warm smile as he approached you slowly, like he was afraid you'd bolt. "If my lil' brother thinks you're good people… Well, I'm obliged to trust him. He ain't ever been wrong."
You watched Bo grab the bags you brought, only hesitating when he saw Peter, also fast asleep. "Sorry, um, I can-" You stuttered, reaching for the bags in Bo's hands.
He held onto them though, tilting his head towards Peter. "Don't even think 'bout it. You just bring your lil' one in. The gentlemanly thing to do is carry the bags." Bo gave you a flirtatious wink and went back inside.
You were left standing in the chilly, night air. The only light came from the inside of the house, which bathed the front porch and gravel walkway in warm, yellow light. You were cold and confused and absolutely exhausted. A part of you screamed against all instinct to accept their help, to trust these strangers. It had been so long since you'd trusted anyone, after all. You were desperate.
So you did.
Peter was already blinking awake from his short nap when you pushed the screen door open more and took in the house. It was a comfortable state of disarray. Throw pillows were propped against the couch at odd angles, family photographs decorated the walls in mismatched frames, and the room smelt of meat, cheese, and marinara sauce.
Lester and Bo's heads snapped to look at you. They'd clearly been whispering but they both smiled at you when you entered. Mikey was sitting on the couch, still a little bleary eyed, curled up against one of the velvety throw pillows that looked rustic and homemade. You sat Peter down beside him, brushing hair from their sleepy faces, and tried to ignore the brothers whispering. "Sorry," you mumbled as you approached them.
They both seemed surprised. "Why're you sorry?" Bo asked with a frown. "Y'ain't got nothin' to be sorry 'bout."
You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, hung head low like a child being scolded. Fawn, your brain screamed. Fawn and they won't hurt you. "'m intruding with two kids, I- I know I'm not supposed to have come here, I just- Lester said the inn was closed, I didn't know where else to go, my car broke down-"
Lester cut your spiraling off by taking your hand and squeezing gently, grounding you. "Hey, hey, sweetpea," he kept his voice low and soothing, "We're happy to have ya. All three'a ya. Honest."
Bo nodded along, frowning at how quickly you retreated inwards. Lester had mentioned to him very briefly while you were outside about how your ex laid hands on you and the boys. It was what got him fully on board with offering you help. So seeing you like this broke his heart just that little bit more.
"I'm gonna go talk to Vince, let him know we got guests." Bo said as he swung open the basement door. "Les, make sure our guests are comfortable, yeah?"
Lester nodded, humming his agreement as he pulled you to his chest for a hug. You went willingly, your hands curled up in the fabric of his shirt as he hooked his arms around your shoulders. "Yeah, I got 'em." He said, shooting his brother a smile as he hugged you.
Bo nodded and descended to the basement.
Vincent hated to be disturbed while working. His brothers especially knew how entranced he'd get in a project, focused on perfecting every piece. Their mother had made him an incredible artist, which often meant he'd neglect everything, even himself, for the sake of his work. Oftentimes, Lester or Bo had to come downstairs to make sure he didn't collapse from exhaustion or dehydration. Especially when summer hit and the basement's heat was suffocating.
So Vincent didn't even lift his head when Bo came to a stop in the entryway, too focused on mending a crack in the cheek of his sculpture. "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax.
He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work.
"They got kids."
And that made Vincent straighten up. "Kids?" He signed slowly, like he wasn't sure he heard him right.
"Yeah." Bo said through a sigh. "Two lil' guys. Too old for breastfeedin' but too young for preschool. Hard to say though, been awhile since any of us were that old." He chucked humorlessly.
Vincent looked towards the wax figure slowly. "We promised Lester we wouldn't hurt children."
Bo nodded, looking annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. They're a pretty lil' thing too. Would be perfect for the museum, but, of course, Lester found 'em first."
"They can't see me," Vincent suddenly became frantic. "The children will be afraid."
The other man winced, hissing through his teeth. "Sorry bro, already promised your cookin' tonight." But Bo didn't seem that remorseful, even when his twin leveled him with an unimpressed look. "When's dinner, by the way?"
"What time is it?" Vincent signed, finally aware of the passage of time. It was easy to get lost in his work, though he promised himself he'd only come down for a few minutes to double check something. But it was easy for him to get lost.
"'s only quarter past 9. Why?"
Vincent finally moved, hurrying past. Bo was only able to make out "oven" before his brother was out of sight.
Thankfully, nothing was burnt. Vincent hadn't even spared you a glance yet, too focused on not burning the house down. Once the food was set atop the stove to cool down, he turned around to face you.
You were sat on the couch with Lester and the boys, who were trying their best to stay awake. "You must be Vincent," you said with a sniff. You knew your eyes were red from crying. Lester had sat with you, holding you while you wept. It was hard, feeling cared for. Especially by strangers.
Pain was familiar. This kindness overwhelmed you.
Vincent became shy when you addressed him, hiding behind long hair and doing his best to keep out of your sight. But Bo, never one to let his twin have peace, grabbed his arm to keep him from hiding. "Yep, managed to finally pull 'im outta that basement for dinner. Whaddya say, Vinny? You up for a proper meal with our guests?"
If looks could kill, Bo would have erupted into flames, reduced to ashes on the carpet. "Do I have a choice?" Vincent signed, managing to look annoyed even behind his mask.
"Nah." Bo smiled, all teeth and no kindness. "You set the table, I'll get enough chairs ready."
Lester turned to you, brushing stray tears away. His heart hurt when you'd started bawling after Bo left, babbling to him that you felt horrible for intruding and forcing his family to help you just because of the kids. He swore if he ever got his hands on your ex, they'd wish Vince or Bo had gotten to them first. "You okay?" He asked you gently, giving you what he hoped was a sincere smile.
You nodded, sniffing once. "Yeah, um, sorry for-"
"If you 'pologize to me for cryin', I'mma beat the ever lovin' shit outta your ex, sweetpea." Lester said, relishing in your chuckle. "We're happy to help ya, really."
Sniffing again, you nodded and wiped your eyes. "I really appreciate it. More than I think you know."
The look he gave you was impossibly soft. Like you were something precious. Lester's hand cupped your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, making your mouth fall open in surprise. "You deserve it, sweetpea. Y'really do."
Bo coughed, making Lester roll his eyes. The two shared pointed looks before Bo turned to you. "Your lil' ones need high chairs or, uh, somethin'?"
You glanced down at the boys and sighed. "I think they're down for the count."
"You can use my room upstairs." Lester said. "I ain't sleep there much anymore so it oughta be clean." Before you could even think to protest, he tapped your nose. "And don't you get all apologetic on me. I wouldn't offer it if it weren't alright."
Honestly, you were a bit relieved to get to sleep in a real bed. So you thanked them quietly, gathered the boys up in your arms, and carried them upstairs. "Second door on the right," Bo called up after you.
As soon as your footsteps couldn't be heard on the creaky wooden stairs anymore, Lester was the first to speak. "I hope you two ain't forgotten your promise."
"Lester, I toldja to find someone for the museum-" Bo hissed, anger sharp on his face.
But the younger Sinclair didn't back down. "If Mama knew you two'd killed two lil' boys, whaddya think she'd do? She'd say somethin' 'bout how if someone took y'all from her, she'd raise hell."
"Don't bring Mama into this." Bo glared daggers at Lester.
Vincent knocked on the countertop to get their attention. "He's right. We made a promise."
"We can't fuckin' keep 'em here!" Bo said, careful to keep his voice down.
"Don't gotta." Lester said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "They ran outta gas. Let 'em stay the night, drop 'em back off at their car, they'll go on. Ain't no trouble."
Bo groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Why do you even care so bad?"
Lester flushed, blotchy pink spots on his cheeks, and shrugged. "They're nice. 'n I feel bad. Their ex laid hands on those lil' babies an' I'd do anything to get five minutes alone with that sonuvabitch."
Vincent's eyes widened. "You didn't mention that!" He signed harshly at Bo.
"Didn't exactly have a moment to tell ya." He sighed with obvious frustration. "Fine, alright, we keep 'em for one night. They're gone in the mornin', ya hear?"
The three of them were quiet for awhile, listening to your footsteps overhead as you set the boys up in Lester's old room. "Swear on Mama," Lester said, keeping his voice low, "That I ain't gonna be seein' any lil' boy statues."
"Lester-!" Bo hissed.
"Swear!" Lester shot back. The two were up in each other's faces at this point.
Vincent, ever the peacemaker, knocked on the counter again. "We swear on Mama."
"Don't fuckin' speak for me, freak!" Bo huffed. But Vincent fixed him with a glare and he sighed in defeat. "Fine. Swear on Mama. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to those three."
The youngest seemed satisfied. At that moment, you came back down the stairs, frowning slightly when you noticed them. "Everything okay?" You asked as though sensing the tension in the room.
"Yep!" Lester said with a wide grin. "Hungry?"
"Starving." You smiled back.
Dinner was awkward at first, especially since you struggled to understand Vincent. But Bo and Lester happily translated and conversation began to flow easier, which you were grateful for.
"So, how long has it just been the three of you?" You asked as you took a bite out of the lasagna. Warm and cheesy and exactly what you needed after a week of gas station food.
Bo hummed as he swallowed. "'Bout ten years now. Went by in a blip, feels like."
"Oh," you frowned, "What happened? If, um, I can ask."
Vincent nodded, still nervously picking at his food. You'd noticed he only ate when you weren't looking so he could lift the mask, which saddened you. He seemed like a nice guy and you wondered what happened in the past to make him hide his face. But you did your best to look away periodically to give him a chance to eat and hopefully let him know it was fine. He probably got enough grief for it as is, you didn't need to add on.
Judging by the slowly disappearing food on his plate, you figured that was the right thing to do.
"Mama got sick. Real sick." Bo sighed sadly. "She was a really great artist, losing her hit the town hard."
"I'm sorry." You said gently. But Lester was the only one of the brothers who seemed sad. Something about that confused you. Why wouldn't they miss their parents?
You took a bite of the food. That wasn't your business.
Vincent began talking about his art then. Bo seemed to roll his eyes and ignored his signing, uninterested in translating. But Lester picked it up in his place, helping his brother talk about his art. He enjoyed painting in his free time but he primarily sculpted with wax.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "You sculpt?"
"Vinny's the main artist in the House of Wax down the street." Bo nodded, answering for him. "Maybe t'morrow we'll take you 'n the boys to see it."
Vincent fidgeted with the ends of his hair, clearly embarrassed. You shot him a warm smile. "I'm sure Vincent's art is great. I look forward to it."
Once dinner was over, Bo and Lester disappeared into the living room with a couple of beers so you and Vince had the chance to wash dishes. The peaceful white noise of the running water and the simple swirling of washing dishes was nice after a long day. Vincent helped, taking whatever dish you passed him and drying it, setting it aside on the nearby dishrack.
He seemed to appreciate the silence. You almost wished you knew sign language so you could talk to him beyond yes or no questions. But you tried to ignore the shock you felt when your fingers brushed sometimes.
If he noticed, he didn't bring it up.
The soft sound of crying alarmed you. You spun around and saw Mikey standing in the doorway of the kitchen, sniffing and sobbing silently. He cried for you and ran towards you, wailing for comfort. You'd barely dried your hands before you were reaching down, scooping him up into your arms. "Shhh, it's okay," you soothed him gently, Mikey had always been the more sensitive one. Waking up in a new, unfamiliar place must have startled him, you thought to yourself as you swayed with him gently.
He nodded, whimpering. "Scared."
"I can imagine." You kissed his cheek gently, rocking him like you'd done when he was an infant, needing to be settled before bed. "It's okay baby, you're alright," you repeated the mantra over and over as you heard Vincent turn off the water behind you.
Hearing his heavy footsteps behind you, you turned to face him and shifted Peter so he could see him. The tall man blinked slowly at Peter, tilting his head curiously at your son. "Mikey, this is Vincent. He and his brothers are letting us spend the night so you and Peter can sleep in a bed."
Mikey seemed to consider this before reaching up to try and touch Vincent's face. "Hi," he whispered.
Vincent flinched slightly but didn't step back. Instead, he offered his hand for the young boy to grab at. Mikey giggled as he grabbed at Vincent's fingers and hand, seemingly satisfied. "Did you wake your brother?" You asked after a moment and winced when your son nodded. "Where did he wander off to?"
"Over here," You turned your head to see Peter half asleep slumped against Bo, barely even keeping his eyes open. Neither of the men seemed bothered though. Bo even raised his beer bottle jokingly, "Seems he's ready to get drinkin' already." He teased and you snorted.
"God I wish they'd just stay small forever. I can't even imagine them starting school yet, much less drinking." You paled at the mere thought. It seemed like only yesterday they were just born and now you felt nauseous whenever you think about them starting kindergarten. Being away from your kids for extended periods of time felt terrifying.
You were pulled from your thoughts by Vincent signing something to you. Shit. Luckily, Lester translated from his seat on the couch, "He's askin' if ya want help bringin' em upstairs?"
Blinking a few times, you nodded at Vincent with a smile. "Yeah, I'd appreciate it! Here," you adjusted Mikey before passing the toddler into Vincent's arms carefully, "just support him here," you guided his arms to the right spaces and ignored the way your heart melted seeing him asleep in someone's arms. Reminded you of easier times before you and your partner split. "Lemme grab Peter and we can head upstairs." Vincent nodded to you and waited patiently by the stairs as you stole Peter back from Bo.
You felt the pair's eyes on you as you wished them goodnight from over your shoulder and headed upstairs with Vincent trailing behind. He carried Mikey like he was fragile, breakable, and you found it incredibly endearing. You set Peter down onto the bed, nestled back in the little blanket fort to prevent them from rolling off the bed, kissing him softly goodnight. Vincent mirrored your actions with Mikey and just stroked his cheek with his thumb in lieu of a kiss. "Thanks for your help. All three of you," you whispered to him. Vincent looked at you, shadows hiding his eyes from you. "It means the world to me that you're all willing to help. I know the boys appreciate it too." You smiled at him as you stood quietly. "I should get to bed," you trailed off and Vincent nodded but didn't leave the room.
Instead, he reached his hand out towards you before tilting his head, asking permission. You gave him a curious nod and felt his hand touch your cheek, stroking under your eye like he'd done to Mikey. "Night Vincent," you whispered and ignored how your face warmed up.
He shut the door as he stepped out of the room,padding down to rejoin his brothers in the living room. None of them said a word to each other but they all had the same thought: they wanted you to stay.
The next morning, Bo collected your car and brought it to the gas station to fill back up. You'd chatted about your plans to keep going west when he'd mentioned missing you. "Place jus' feels more lively with you 'round, s'all." He'd shrugged, feigning nonchalance.
You'd gestured to the empty streets before climbing into the passenger's seat. "You sure that ain't just because this town is quiet as is?"
Bo just gave you a smile.
When you tried to start your car, it seemed to spur, dead. "What the-?"
"Everythin' alright?" He asked, leaning against the window frame.
"It sounds like the battery's dead?" You frowned, trying again to start the car.
Bo jerked his head, urging you to follow him. "Lemme take a look." You followed him around to the hood of your car and he flipped it open. He hummed as he looked around, face screwing up in surprise. "Your fan belt tore."
"My what?" You blinked owlishly at him. He gave you a look of bewilderment and you just sighed. "You definitely know more about cars than me."
He snorted at you and slammed the hood closed. "I don't think I got any in the shop but I could order one for ya and have it in a few days."
That wouldn't do. "I- I need to get back on the road soon." Panic began to rise in your chest and tighten your throat. "If we're found here, then I'd have to…" You didn't want to think about it, you said to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. Obviously you had a plan if you got caught but you really, really, didn't want it to come to that.
Bo nudged you gently and gave you a warm smile. "Hey, we'll look out for ya. Ain't no one gonna hurt'cha here in Ambrose. Not get many tourists anywhere, doubt they'd think to look for ya here."
You sighed. You didn't exactly have much of a choice. If your car wouldn't start, you'd just have to wait.
The two of you were walking back to the house and you felt Bo kept glancing at you. Right before you were going to ask about it, he spoke up. "I know ya wanna go see the House of Wax. Which is all fine 'n good, but ya gotta know somethin' 'fore you go there."
"Sure..?" You said plainly.
Bo sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "So, when Mama got sick, Vince had been away at a real good art college." You nodded along to show you were listening. Bo looked guilty. "When she got worse, I needed help takin' care'a her. Lester and I were away workin' and she needed someone at home. So, uh, near her end…" He sighed again. "I called him back home. It's, uh, still a sore spot. Wasn't able to go back, since he got in on scholarships. An' we didn't have the funds anyway, her bills were too much."
The silence was deafening. "I'm sorry." You said, at a loss for words. "I- I won't bring it up then."
"I 'preciate it. He an' I don't talk 'bout it anymore. If he goes with ya, just don't ask."
You nodded, giving Bo a small smile. "I'm sure he doesn't blame you for it."
The man smiled back at you but you could see it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Maybe."
Taking a small sidestep, you bumped your shoulders together. "I know so."
Later that night, things changed.
You'd gone to bed after showering and bathing the boys, the three of you all fast asleep in the bedroom. Vincent and Bo had gone to their own rooms while Lester slept on the couch. None of you heard the two cars that pulled into the town, driving slowly down the streets looking for any sign of life. After no luck at the first few houses, a small group of people approached the Sinclair's house, heavy footfalls making the little porch staircase creak under the stress.
They knocked on the front door and a dog could be heard barking in the backyard.
Lester had stumbled awake in surprise, his brain taking a minute to catch up. No one should be at the door because nobody else was alive in Ambrose. He still went to the door, opening it with a tired yawn. "Yeah?"
A man smiled at him, an acidic look that made bile burn the back of Lester's throat. "I'm looking for someone. Do you happen to know if there's been someone visiting your town?"
Freezing, Lester immediately recognized the man. Even though they'd never met face to face, he knew everything about this man. All child abusers look the same, Lester thought as he recalled his father. They all look like scum.
"Well, I ain't too sure. I work the night shift, I jus' got home. But my brother Bo might'a seen 'em. He works down at the autoshop." He said through a yawn.
"I'd hope so. Considering their car is in his shop." The man smiled, trying to force his way into the door, calling your name.
Lester shoved him back, slamming the door and locking it with a loud thud. He ignored your ex's screaming as he ran up the stairs.
Bo was opening his door before Lester could even knock. "The hell're you-?!"
"Guests." Lester panted, frozen in place as he kept an ear out in case your door opened. "Their ex is here."
His brother's eyes widened and he stormed to Vincent's door, knocking once before opening. He tore the blankets off Vincent and shook him viciously. "Get up, get the knives, we got intruders."
Vincent snapped awake, blinking through sleep-mussed hair. "Mm?" He said around his exhausted yawn.
"Intruders! Vince! Now!" Bo snapped. "I'll get my shotgun. You helpin' out, Les?"
Lester huffed, thinking it over. "Y'know I ain't a killer, right?"
Bo didn't have time for this. "You helpin' or NOT, Les?"
The younger brother sighed. "Does dad still keep a spare gun in his office?"
"Did he ever stop?" Bo said with a smirk, pulling his boots on his feet.
Vincent stumbled to his feet, putting his own boots on to sneak back down into the basement. If he went down and through the House of Wax, they could pin the group down. Bo'd meet them head on while Lester slipped around the side of the house to catch the strays. They vowed to make quick work of all of them but save your ex for last.
The Sinclair brothers were going to protect you. No matter what.
#🔪 creeps writes#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction#slasher x s/o#house of wax#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#lester sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x y/n#vincent sinclair x y/n#tired of running
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ayato aishi being in love with an idol!reader would include...
sfw. warnings: yandere and obsessive behavior but that’s about it.
author’s note: this was also posted on my wattpad account, just wanted to share it here!
• the only reason ayato knew of your existence was because he heard your name a few times brought up at school. at first, he thought you were a student at akademi but something in the back of his mind told him that he had the wrong idea. he ended up shrugging it off. that is, until he saw a 3d billboard of you in tokyo, telling the watchers below to buy tickets for your upcoming concert.
• this whole time, y/n was an idol? ayato felt like a complete idiot when he realized this and spent the next few minutes, just standing there on the sidewalk, watching the same billboard cycle through other things until you popped up again. when you did, ayato took his time admiring your features. it's no wonder you were so popular at school...you're gorgeous.
• with that, ayato hurried to his house whilst he looked up everything about you and once he was in his house, he listened to every single song that you have ever sung. unreleased, popular, underrated, instrumental, acapella, you name it. you just so happened to have over 45 songs! for someone who was in the music scene for such a short amount of time, you did have a lot of albums...but that's alright!
— while it wasn't ayato's usual taste in music, he was willing to make an exception for you and only you.
• ayato is the type of guy to see someone wearing a piece of your merchandise, walk up to them, and say, "oh, you like y/n l/n? name 5 songs."
— insufferable, yes, but he had to assert dominance and show every single follower that he was your number #1 fan! if someone claims to be it, they're dead wrong. literally.
• he hates how some of the guys at his school also knew who you were and thought you were attractive. ayato knows that realistically, it was bound to happen but he still hates having to deal with it and it's not like he could do anything about it too, just suck it up.
• if you're the type of idol to dye your hair differently with every single album debut, ayato carefully tracks for any leaks on what color it would be because he's been debating on matching with you. he's lucky that akademi high school isn't strict when it comes to uniquely colored hair (as some schools force students to dye their hair black, even if a person's natural hair color is brown). of course, he would stick out more but he didn't care. it's a way he can show his support for you and there's nothing wrong with that.
• has only been to one of your concerts since, he won't lie, the tickets are a bit pricey and his part-time job could hardly cover it. the concert was really cool to experience— especially since ayato doesn't get out much— and he loved seeing you in person, but some annoying fans in front of him wouldn't stop holding their signs up in the air blocking his view but still tried to have a good thing by waving his light-stick and chanting in perfect harmony with the other fans.
— he would've gone a vip pass instead, but if he did that, ayato would have become flat-broke and that would in turn make him receive an angry lecture from his parents about finances.
• ayato has sent you loads of fan mail, some by name, others anonymously. he's sure that you get thousands by the hour but if there is even the slightest chance that you might read at least one of his, he'll take that opportunity
• whenever you describe your ideal type in a man in interviews, ayato makes it his duty to meet the criteria. you want someone with a little bit of muscle? he can work out more. you want a man who can cook? looks like ayato will be joining the cooking club at school. trust me, he will do anything to be viewed perfect in your eyes
• although his first-ever time seeing you in person was pretty much a bust, ayato made up for it by teaming up with info-kun to see where you would be in japan and finding your location by fan sightings. it was from there that ayato was able to find you in shibuya but it wasn't good news, actually. you were mad at the paparazzi trying to take scandalous photos of you and when ayato realized this, his head began to spin and he, too, started shouting at them to give you some space and to back off.
— when you realized this, you turned over to see just who was coming to help you since you weren't expecting it and mouthed a small 'thank you' which sent ayato's heart soaring.
• ayato has purchased an ungodly amount of merch from you, whether that be shirts, water bottles, limited-time ramen, or soda cans, he's even ripped off pages in magazines solely because your face was on it.
• alas, he still needs to find a way to worm into your personal life. it's a little hard to do that with just how many bodyguards you have and have lots of cameras in your house, too many for him to be able to capture you without any issues...
#yandere headcanons#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere boy#yandere#yandere kun#yandere simulator#yandere sim#yandere kun x reader#yandere kun hcs#yandere kun imagines#ayato aishi#ayato aishi x reader#ayato aishi imagine#ayato aishi hcs#gn reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral y/n#fmab reader#idol reader#akademi high school#random#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#video games#i do not support yandere dev#writing#fanfic
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SCKAP AU Part 4!!
The S stands for Sora
The C stands for Cora: Parts [1] [2] [3]
Switching gears to another blonde who deserved some happiness with their family!
Sora’s illness is still quite debilitating but she pulls through. I’m not sure what her symptoms were in canon so I’m just giving her a weaker body (like loss of bone mass) and a weaker immune system. So she can walk but it takes a lot out of her.
Since she lives, Judge decides to “kill” off Sanji a bit sooner, thinking that he absolutely needs to get rid of any weakness. Sora is of course devastated until Reiju comes by and tells her the truth. Then, she’s angry. Angry enough to plan to leave.
She decides to take Reiju and Sanji with her when she does. Constantly telling herself that she’s too weak to grab unwilling children, that Judge would keep too close an eye on the other boys…but she still feels guilt. Guilt that she doesn’t feel a huge hole in her heart at the thought of leaving Ichiji, Niji and Yonji behind. (It’s why she has photos only of them as babies…the last time she really felt connected to them)
Still escape towards the East Blue. At this point Sora’s not faring too well health wise and they have to stay in one place for her. That is until Reiju hears of a ship hiring for their kitchen crew. She convinces Sanji to go and learn how to cook from professionals - to learn about the All Blue. Lots of fighting to get him to go but once Sora joins in on Reiju’s side, he’s off.
They constantly write to one another while they’re apart until suddenly it’s been radio silence on Sanji’s end for far too long. Sora and Reiju hear of the ship he was on sinking and fear the worst. Just as they’ve reluctantly decided to declare him as dead, he shows up again with an older man with only one leg.
I’ve basically got Zeff taking them in and having him and Sora fall in love 🤭
Reiju and Zeff butt heads on his idea of women and not fighting them a lot as she grows up. Her skill and much more durable body do make him budge some on his ideals. So Sanji grows up not wanting to fight women still (because they’re not all as strong as Reiju) but once he’s on the crew he prioritizes Nami’s, Vivi’s and Robin’s safety over what he was taught.
Reiju doesn’t cook but she is the Baratie’s most popular waitress. Especially amongst the ladies (rip Sanji) while Sora is more of a business type that stays in the back (mostly due to health).
Enter Gin. The real difference here is that Reiju can join Luffy and Sanji in the fight. And once the poison gas comes out? Reiju really shines.
I’ve made her into a sort of Poison Vampire. Thought it’d be cool if she sucked out poison through a bite.
So Gin isn’t on his deathbed and I’ve decided to have him join the Straw Hats. Also think it’d be funny if he had personal beef with Smoker.
(Being the only grown ass adult, he almost cries tears of joy when Robin joins)
#one piece#SCKAP AU#vibrantshoyo#Vinsmoke Sora#Sora Vinsmoke#Vinsmoke Reiju#Reiju Vinsmoke#Poison Pink#Man Demon Gin#One Piece Gin#Black Leg Sanji#Vinsmoke Sanji#Sanji Vinsmoke#Red Leg Zeff#Vinsmoke Ichiji#Ichiji Vinsmoke#Vinsmoke Niji#Niji Vinsmoke#Vinsmoke Yonji#Yonji Vinsmoke#whew finally got this one out
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naive
hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)
day 2/7
summary: this is part two of my short story about the boys’ trip to curaçao (read the other one first, or don’t). hamzah’s getting you all riled up and mandy and martin begin to notice his unusual behavior with you.
contains: SFW content
wc: 2k-ish
~
You wake up to an empty bed and some part of you feels disheartened at the sight. The only evidence of Hamzah ever being there is the indent in the pillow and the shorts he borrowed folded neatly atop the mattress. You sit up to stretch, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 10:02 and you decide to get dressed.
When you grab your phone on the way out, you see a text message light up your screen.
morning :)
Your fingers hover over the keyboard, but before you can type out your reply, a pair of large hands grab your shoulders and you nearly launch into the ceiling.
"Fuck—Hamzah!"
He cackles at your scream. You slap his arm, immediately shutting him up as he rubs the spot to soothe it.
"Dumbass," you grumble.
"Good morning to you, too." The grin on his face doesn't fade for a second.
"Whatever.” You shut the front door and walk down the hallway alongside him. “When did you wake up?”
"'Round 9,” he yawns out. "Martin called me back and we got the room situation sorted."
He pulls his new key card out of his wallet and holds it between his fingers to show you. “Nice.”
Upon finding the hotel pool already chock-full of people, the two of you decide to meet Mandy and Martin at a restaurant they told Hamzah they'd be at. The GPS on your phone’s map gives you a hard time and you nearly walk into oncoming traffic with your nose deep in the screen. Hamzah reaches out to grab your forearm and pulls you back right as a taxi flies by.
"That was way too close," he says. Both of you breathe heavily at the realization that it could've ended way worse. "I think I know where it’s at anyway, just follow me."
"Sorry," you apologize, blushing. He smiles and shakes his head to dismiss your embarrassment. His hand stays on the middle of your back as he leads the rest of the way. The sparks you feel from his touch can hardly be ignored.
You get seated in a booth with the couple, who have already ordered some appetizers in anticipation of your arrival. The four of you dig into some sort of steamed veggie dish and catch up.
"Martin kept me up all night," Mandy says.
"Yeah, I got stamina." Martin nonchalantly shrugs.
"No, you literally passed out the moment you went to bed." She rolls her eyes. "I had to check if he was breathing, like, 5 times."
"She got yo lying ass, boy," Hamzah says, laughing with you. "I think I was snoring all night. Those drinks had me messed up."
"You weren't," you assure him.
"How do you know that?" Martin diverts the attention to you.
"Because someone was dead asleep and couldn't help his best friend get back into his hotel room," Hamzah replies pointedly. Martin sinks into his seat and takes a bite of food while pouting.
"So, you guys were stuck in the same bed?" Mandy asks, genuinely interested. "How'd that go?"
"It was—"
"We were—"
You look at each other and you nod your head, gesturing for him to talk first. He nods back and places his hand on your knee under the table before continuing. Your heart leaps to your throat.
"We were watching some show in Dutch that we couldn't understand until we knocked out."
"That's it?" This earns Martin a light smack on the arm from Mandy and a fiery glare from you.
"Was it the one with the bald dad and the ginger kids?"
"Yeah, how'd you—?"
"I watched it with Martin's mom the day before we came. It’s pretty popular here."
Hamzah's hand is still on your knee, occasionally running his thumb over your skin like it's the most natural thing in the world. You try to be attentive and contribute to the conversation, but it's a struggle when your mind is constantly wandering. When the waiter comes to take your orders, you choose something random off the menu because you were too lost in thought. You’re starting to think you need to be spayed because of how much this affects you.
"I can't believe we have to leave in a week," Hamzah says. You look up from the table.
"Don't remind me," you groan.
"I miss Rudy," Mandy admits with a sigh, "and Fish and Carl, of course."
"Every parent has their favorites.” Martin shrugs.
Your food arrives after some more chatter. Hamzah's hand leaves the spot on your thigh he’d slowly worked up to and you feel like you can breathe again. This trip has made you guys a lot closer than you ever anticipated, but it makes you wonder how things will be once you get back home.
“Wanna bite?” Hamzah whispers to only you. “It’s pretty good.”
“Lemme try.” You pluck a piece of omelette from his plate and bite into it. “Yum. Try mine.”
He shovels a scoop of your yogurt bowl into his mouth and hums. “Let’s split?”
“Yes, please.”
The meal ends with Martin paying for Mandy and Hamzah paying for you, in a surprise turn of events. You try to fight him back on it, but once he swipes his card without a word you know it's settled.
"All that YouTube money has gone to your head," you joke.
"I got fat stacks."
"Ew." You and Mandy cringe.
The couple walks ahead of you up the street and the two of you walk side by side.
"Was that alright?" Hamzah asks once the others are out of earshot.
"What do you mean?"
"Y'know, me paying." He nudges your shoulder. "It felt like the right thing to do."
"It did?" you ask, a smile growing on your face. "I didn't mind it."
"Good, good..." He walks with his hands in his pockets, kicking a rock every couple of steps.
"I actually thought it was cute."
He exhales through his nose, smiling at the ground. "Was it?"
"Yeah." You nod. "Thanks, Hamzah."
"No biggie."
You scrunch up your face and he laughs once he sees your expression. His laughter could cure even the most fatal illnesses, you're convinced. You take steps in unison for a bit—right, left, right, left—until he clears his throat to speak again.
"And, um," he starts, licking his lips. "When I put my hand on your leg..."
"Mhm?" You enjoy seeing the way his face contorts as he tries to find his words.
"Was that... alright, too?"
"I didn't mind it," you repeat.
He shakes his head and this time it's your turn to laugh. The tips of his ears turn red under his hat, making your heart pound at the sight. He fixes the hat tighter on his head and you fight the urge to tuck one of his stray curls behind his ear. Instead, you find that your feet lead you closer to his side, your fingertips brushing past his ever so slightly.
The couple eventually stops at a building and the two of you rush to catch up.
"We made it, kids," Martin says with a smile once you reach them.
"An art museum?" Hamzah questions as he reads the sign at the door. "Are we museum people?"
"We are now," Martin says, turning to walk inside.
"He's been talking about this since we landed," Mandy explains. "C'mon, guys."
Your group enters the museum and you look around at the historic paintings and sculptures from various Curaçaoan artists. Any and all doubt is washed from your mind as you make your way through the space, carefully observing art you haven't had the pleasure of seeing before. Hamzah follows close by, never straying too far as to not miss the way you react to each piece with 'oo's and 'ah's.
"Here's what we came for!" Martin points at a painting in the corner.
You walk closer and catch sight of a beautiful beach landscape. There's bright green shrubbery in the forefront, leading up to a peachy-toned sunset with tropical birds flying in the background. Mandy excuses herself to check out the gift shop and Martin huddles the three of you together.
"One day, I'm gonna propose to her here," he whispers. His finger traces the plaque below the canvas. You'd been to this beach the day you touched ground in Curaçao. It was the first thing you guys did, even before checking in at the hotel.
"Martin," you gasp, eyes wide. He shushes you and you lower your voice. "That's so sweet, oh my god."
"She walked right by it," he beams. "She has no clue."
"That's great, man." Hamzah clasps his hand on Martin's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "She'll love it, for sure."
"I can't believe I'm gonna be a maid of honor," you squeal as quietly as you can. Martin shushes you again but you can barely contain your excitement, turning to Hamzah to find his eyes already on you.
"What makes you so sure it'll be you?" he teases.
"It will be." You raise your eyebrows, challenging him to say otherwise.
"As long as I can be best man."
You take a couple pictures of Martin standing next to the painting with his thumbs up, narrowly avoiding Hamzah's photobombing attempts. When you finally walk away, Martin motions for you both to zip your lips. You mime crossing your heart and make your way to the gift shop.
There's shelves of souvenirs with prints of the art pieces from the museum, as well as some nearby tourist attractions that you recognize from visiting recently. You get to the jewelry section and run your fingers across the array of bangles and necklaces, hearing how they jingle as they move. Once you get to the end of the table, you notice a reddish-brown beaded bracelet.
"'Handmade,'" you mumble, reading the tag.
Hamzah stops close by your turned back and sees what's caught your attention from over your shoulder. "What's that?"
"Isn't it pretty?" You slip the bracelet onto your wrist and hold it up to show him. He grabs another one, doing the same.
Mandy suddenly calls for you and you walk over to her.
"I want this book so bad." She holds up a leather bound book with golden letters on the front, flipping through the pages to reveal photographs of nearby landmarks. "Wouldn't it look cute on our coffee table?"
“We have so much stuff from this trip already—“ Martin starts, but upon seeing Mandy’s glare, agrees.
You conclude that married life would suit them very well.
Your group loiters around the museum until you've seen everything it has to offer, snapping a few pics of your favorites along the way. Hamzah volunteers to take a few aesthetic photos of you, but when you get your phone back, your camera roll is full of him making funny faces. You know you’ll get him back for it eventually.
The four of you make it halfway back to the hotel when you look down and realize the bracelet is still on your wrist. You halt in the middle of the sidewalk and curse at the wind.
"Guys," you call out, making them stop as well. "I'll meet you there, I forgot to put this bracelet back."
"You stole?" Martin exaggerates. "Dang it, now we're all accomplices!"
"Say it louder, why don't you?" You roll your eyes, turning on your heels to walk back up the street.
"YOU STO—"
Hamzah slaps his palm across his friend's mouth, "I got it, don't worry."
"What?" You turn back.
He holds his free hand up and shakes the bracelet on his wrist. "I paid already. You don't have to go back."
You part your lips, but no words come out.
Mandy and Martin share a glance with each other, him mumbling something unintelligible. Hamzah drops his hands and fidgets with his hat.
"I feel bad," you finally say, your cheeks warming up uncontrollably. "You're too nice."
"I wish I had a sugar daddy," Martin complains. You collectively ignore him.
"Thank you, Hamzah," you say with a smile. "I appreciate it."
"You liked the bracelet, so..." He shrugs it off.
The walk back to the hotel commences and you feel your pulse thumping with each step. Once again, the couple get ahead of you two, but that’s fine by you. Mandy turns a few times to make eye contact with you and raise her eyebrows ridiculously. You just shake your head and try not to grin too hard.
The weather is muggy and the sun is beaming on your heads, but Hamzah’s warm hand finds yours despite it all. Your bracelets graze each other and you wordlessly make a pact to not let go.
~
a/n: u get what u want in the next part ya filthy animals!!! also sorry i took so long, i’m still not 100% happy w how this turned out but i wanted to pump something out before u guys start chasing me w wooden stakes and pitchforks :-)
#hamzah fic#hamzah x reader#hamzahthefantastic#slushy noobz#slushy virus#thatmartinkid#martin and hamzah#hamzah x y/n
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dead poets' society modern(ish) headcanons
Most of these are school related because I'm going back to college next week. (most of these are things my friends or I have done.)
Todd:
has definitely written fanfiction for his creative writing assignments in English.
definitely has a semi-popular poetry account on TikTok/tumblr
Enters his poetry/writing into competitions and stuff when he gets a little bit more confident
Loved by the dinner ladies
Eats the most heinous food combinations like beacon and fish finger sandwiches, just the most questionable foods.
Neil:
Has walked into the set during a show because he had to perform without his glasses.
His drama teacher's favourite student.
Most popular boy in the class
On the school newspaper
Kissed Todd for the first time during the intermission of one of his plays and was so flustered after he almost missed his cue.
Charlie:
Banned from the library
Ran against Cameron for school council/class president (they tied.)
Him and Cameron actively hate each other but outright refuse to be separated from each other.
Has been kicked out of Assembly multiple times.
Music is his best subject
Banned from giving people dares in truth or dare
Cameron
Debate team captain
On the track team
The kid teachers sit bad students next to, in hopes they behave.
He was sat next to Charlie in every lesson in year nine for that exact reason.
This quickly changed when Charlie started to influence Cameron instead of the other way round.
Goes to homework club.
Meeks
Almost flooded his bathroom after trying to see if he could use oil to plug his sink.
Can’t swim but can hold his breath underwater for 2 minutes
Hates sand
Taught himself and Pitts morse code.
Gets really competitive during kahoot
Loves halloween, plans his and Pitts duo costumes months in advance.
Pitts
Freakishly good at table tennis
Can solve a rubix cube in under a minute
Top set for science
Double jointed
Always being asked to help teachers get things because he's the tallest in his year.
Terrible at Geography, like could not locate Canada on a map to save his life.
Knox
Broke his arm doing a cartwheel for a dare.
Can’t tell the difference between admiration and romantic interest for the life of him
Fully had a crush on Charlie in year ten but just thought he REALLY wanted to be his friend.
Plays football
He tried out for rugby to impress Chris, it did NOT go well.
Gets detention for riding his bike to school without a helmet.
leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do headcanons for them if you want :)
#dead poets society#dps fandom#dps boys#dps headcanons#dps hcs#anderperry#todd anderson#neil perry#charlie dalton#Richard Cameron#steven meeks#gerard pitts#knox overstreet#knarlie#mitts#chameron
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Need more positivity on my dash, so I wanna talk a bit more about how fucking amazing OFMD's writing for its characters of color is!
Now, I'm a professional historian (phd student 😔🤘🏾) and I read and watch a lot of historical fiction because I love it, right? And I have literally never seen a piece of historical fiction that is so respectful to its characters of color.
Usually, in works of historical fiction that actually bother to include characters of color, they fall into two big camps. The most common one is trauma porn, where poc only exist so White characters can save them, feel sorry about them, or so White audiences can pat themselves on the back for feeling sorry about them. Also popular are works that include characters of color but don't bother thinking about how race impacts their experiences in historical settings (shows like Bridgerton come to mind; they want to include poc but handwave racism). And in general I prefer the latter but it still takes me out of the story.
But OFMD hits just this amazing balance. There are many characters of color, and the racism of the world they live in impacts their experiences and perspectives in realistic ways. Ed remembering how his mom told him that fine things weren't meant for people like him has me by the fucking throat, it's so tied up in race and class and it's the root of so many of Ed's self-image issues into adulthood. But the real kicker for me - poc always get the last laugh in OFMD. Yes, the racism in this show is often very realistic, but this isn't a realistic show at its core and it is so, so comforting to know a character who starts acting like a racist dickhead is a dead man walking.
It's so carefully written, and for me it's such a huge comfort: race in OFMD is never hand-waved away, and it's thought-provoking and realistic and relatable. But the show always feels so safe because we know racism in the show is never excused. They tell us in the pilot that if you start being a racist asshole, someone's gonna stab you. Even Stede, our main character - when he makes a racist assumption in the second episode of the show, the narrative encourages us to call him out for it and has a character directly call him a fuckin' racist! He's held accountable and he fucking grows, because unlearning racist biases is important and he doesn't get a pass because he's the main character!
It's not just that OFMD has a lot of characters of color. It's not just that one of our main romantic leads is an indigenous Jewish man. It's not just that characters of color are consistently depicted as smart, clean, competent, and respected. It's that the show respects them enough to think about how racism realistically shapes the world of OFMD, while at the same time providing viewers with a wonderful fantasy of racists getting what they deserve. In the genre of historical fiction, it stands out because it completely avoids the trauma porn and hand-wavey angles, and I can't articulate strongly enough how much I appreciate that.
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(I thought of something funny)
Whenever Owlstar comes back to camp from solo walks, there's just this giant banner at the entrance reading "Welcome Back, Cheater."
Slitsplash swears they didn't put it up, but appreciates whoever did it.
Meanwhile, Fiercestripe is smirking in the background. (She did it)
They’re throwing him a party!
(˃̣̣̥▽˂̣̣̥) These asks all flow together so well I genuinely cannot tell if they are multiple people or just one person who is SO PISSED. Made my night to see these all come in at about 2am. If Owlstar has 100 haters im one of them, if Owlstar has 1 hater it's me, if Owlstar has no haters im dead.
I do! It was actually incredibly comical from my perspective because Eklutna showed up, did fuck all for 5 moons, got pregnant, then promptly died giving birth, to which i went "aw, that sucks" clicked on her kits, and SAW THAT THIER DAD WAS THE LEADER, SOMETHING THAT I DID NOT KNOW COULD HAPPEN. Eklutna didn't even have any romantic like for him, to my recollection, and Owlstar had like maybe a single tick for her? It was really just lucky rng I guess. Owl and Silt actually didn't break up in the game at all, in my original draft for the story, when i was just writing notes as i played, Siltsplash was a lot more... okay with it? Like they were pissed but their personality was a lot more demure so they didn't act on anything really. The exact quote from the draft was: "I won’t lie to you. I’m angry. Starclan, I’m more than angry, I’m furious. I have half the mind to tell you to leave and never come back.” They paused, seeing Owlstar deflate and taking some slight, bitter satisfaction in it before continuing, “But that wouldn’t be fair to those kits. They didn’t ask to be born, much less to you. They deserve to have a family, or as much of it as they are able to have, and starclan help me we’re in this together." It certainly fit with what I knew about them then, but given my ability to look forward and see future events, I decided that a break up made more sense.
Don't be sorry! I am not currently in artfight, I'm considering it but I wouldn't be able to be very active due to school, and I don't want to take another break from this blog so soon after my last, so it's not very high up on my list of priorities. I'm kinda casually working on refs for the more popular characters, so there's a chance I'll get those done and join a team, especially if it's something you guys want me to do. If that happens I'll be sure to let you guys know! I am now in art fight! I gave into peer pressure again. (In a good way).
I don't think even Silt knew. Siltsplash was OUT of it after their conversation with Owlstar, (see: the Eklutna hallucination), and they probably didn't even know where they were headed until they reached the nursery. But after setting eyes on the kits, Siltslpash knew that there was only one option. Yes, they "took the kids in the divorce" but truly they weren't thinking about revenge. They just saw kids who needed something that they could provide.
In terms of writing, though, since I have hundreds of moons of foresight, it was a total bait and switch. I needed to make sure that people had a reason to come back after the break and any comic with kittens in it usually gets a lot of attention, so it was a "marketing" decision to split up the moon the way that I did, in order to make sure that there wasn't too bad of a fall off in interaction for the blog.
In game Eklutna had an affair with Owlstar, died giving birth, and the "died giving birth" event overwrote the "reveal affair" event so technically, in game Owlstar didn't reveal the affair... ever? (Though I had written in my notes that he told Siltsplash who took them as their own). Story wise, Owlstar hadn't planned to tell anyone until the kits started asking about who their father was. Then he would tell them, and would probably reveal it to the clan when they earned their names and were able to become deputy. But, when Eklutna died all that went out the window. For all his faults, Owlstar is not a bad dad, and he would never leave his kits orphaned, even if it would get him in a lot of trouble to do so. He really does care for them, and he feels terrible about how much he's screwed up their lives so far.
He did bad, deitycrows, he did bad. He cheated on his mate and then his affair partner died in childbirth so he's not very popular rn, I've got to be honest.
I don't think it helps at all but, Owlstar did really genuinely like Eklutna! Now, was that because she never opposed him on anything and flattered him with adoring compliments at every opportunity? Possibly. But the "Starclan said" thing was honestly just more of an excuse for him. He woulda had an affair anyway, he just wouldn't have intentionally had kits with her.
:) Eklutna liked... the power that Owlstar held. She liked that he was chosen by Starclan to lead the clan, she liked that his kits are meant to inherit the position of leadership, and she liked that as the mother of his kits she would have a lot of control over both him and the leader after him. As far as his personality... he's kinda a clown but she could live with that.
To be frank: The order of inheritance is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. If Eklutna had lived, it would be easy. She would take over as deputy until one of the kits was old enough to hold the position. But, since she's dead and Owlstar's only heirs are literal infants, as their adoptive parent Siltsplash is still the deputy for now. What happens when the kits reach adulthood is kinda up for debate. As Owlstar's closest descendant, Songkit should be deputy upon earning his warrior name, BUT Siltsplash is very much against that plan, and the kits might not want to go against their most attentive parent. So the very unhelpful answer is: We have to wait and see what the characters decide.
Thank you so much! I love to hear from first time viewers and see what you guys think of the characters! I'm glad that the dialogue worked so well and Eklutna definitely has Sol vibes! You look at both of them and go "in what world would this plan work the way you wanted it to???"
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Horror Convention || No. 9 Gloryhole w/ Horror Characters x Fem! Reader
Kinktober Masterlist
Word Count: 1995
Warnings: gloryhole, free use, exhibition, overstimulation, large cock, vaginal sex, gangbang if you squint, vagianl fingering, mask kink, stranger sex, cosplaying oral sex, blow jobs, hand job, spit as lube, multiple orgasms,
You were going to a horror convention, it was your first one and you couldn't be more excited to go. You were wearing a slutty freddy krueger outfit excluding the knife coves because they sold out at the spirit halloween. It was too late to buy any online. You were wearing a ripped up black and red cropped top, a jean mini skirt, some stressed thigh-highs and wedges.
When you finally got inside the convention center, there were a lot of things going on with an unsettling low amount of security personnel around. It was a bit overwhelming but you were going to push through it just fine. It was full of cosplaying horror characters, new and old, popular and niche. Even horror shorts films, tv shows and games.
“Can I take a picture with you? I really like the freddy outfit,” the muffled voice of a guy said behind an old respirator.
Oh yeah sure, I like your outfit too. It's from my bloody valentine right?” you lean into the guy so he could take the photo. The guy pulls you close to him for the picture, then he turns to face you.
“Yeah I've had this for a while now.” he laughs and crosses his arm.
“Well it's super cool, practically identical to the movie.” you look him up and down, he was a carbon copy of the original.
“A bunch of my buddies and staff are hosting an event on the west wing in an hour. You should totally go. “ The Harry warden cosplayer handed a pass for the event. ‘Glory Horror’ printed on the card.
“Yeah I will be there.” you nod and take the pass. You can't believe you got an event pass for free.
=========================================================================
An hour had passed, you had bought a scream poster, a friday the 13th shirt and the regret of your shoe choices. You push past the last part and make your way to the event. It was a ways away from everything else which was a bit suspicious but not enough for you to turn around. You show the bouncer guy your pass and ID, because you guess this is an 18 plus event.
You take a seat in the front, the seats were really comfortable. The lights were dim and the walls around the panel looked sound proof. This was super fancy for a panel. It makes you wonder what's going to happen, especially with how fast the room is getting filled with horror fans such as yourself. Most of them were wearing masks from what you can see in the dark space.
A bright red stage light hits the middle of the stage. The familiar guy from earlier that gave you your pass to this event walks to the center. Two other people dragged something onto the stage behind him, also dressed up, one looked like Amanda the pig from the jigsaw moves or the dead by daylight game. The other person was dressed like the monster from Jeepers creepers. There was a large box with a set of holes of different sizes, odd but you find the tv and cameras placed inside and outside the box.
“Welcome to this year's Glory Horror event. Many of you who know about this event already know what's up, but for our virgin Marys let me explain what’s up.” Harry warden cosplayer says through the microphone, his mask muffling his words.
“We’re going to pick a lucky Slasher Slut in the audience to go into the box.” The man snickered as the crowd went wild. Harry looked into the group of seated people, presumably to find someone to put in the box.
“Anything goes when you're behind the veil.” he points to the closed door.
You look around the audience that you were in and they all seemed excited to either be picked or see who was going to end up being picked. You just stare at everyone in confusion.
“You, are you willing to take a dive into carnal pleasures and try out the box?” He points to you from the crowd, when you point to yourself he nods. You stand up, nerves run down your spine as you walk onto the stage. You were surprised with how excited every person in the audience seemed to be that you got picked.
“What am I supposed to do?” you asked while looking at the box.
“It's pretty self explanatory, but you get in the box, the cameras are already set up, we gave you a screen to see the reactions you're giving people.” You nod at him and step into the box, it was large and you could stand up right without being seen by anyone, not counting the screen that was broadcasting you to the outside.
“You can strip down any point and if you want out of the box just push the button to unlock the door.
“You want me to do what now.” you asked from behind the wall, your voice muffled mostly.
“Strip, take off those slutty clothes and either open that pretty mouth or a hole. Prepared to get stuffed in whichever you choose and you can switch at whatever time doll.
You think for a moment, you could back out right now but a part of you wanted to see what happened. With a shaky breath you take off your freddy krueger fit and finally take off your dreadful shoes. You were just in your bra and underwear, taking a seat on your knees in the middle. The bigger hole was covered with a black sheet.
A knock on one of the sides catches your attention, you turn your head and your eyes widen. A veiny cock filled the hole, making it look smaller than it was and it makes your mouth water. You looked over at your screen to see what you're working with, a guy wearing a Michael Myers mask. Your lip quivers as you wrap your fingers around his length.
His balls twitch as you tighten the grip on this stranger’s cock. You use your saliva to wet the tip of his dick. You hear the faint groan of the Myers look alike, it was hot and a turn on for sure. You take his cock deeper in your mouth, almost gagging on it, using your hand to massage his balls and or stroke the rest of his meaty meat.
Another knock from the others size makes you pull your lips off Myer’s member. Someone else had slid their dick into the other hole, the screen splits so you can see the masked figure. It was Brahms, down to the black messy hair, even matches the drapes decorating the base of this man’s uncut dick.
You take your other hand and start to rub at his cute dick. Both of your hands were being filled with their cocks. You were soaking wet from how hot this was and if your hands went filled you would be touching yourself right now. You placed licks on both the dicks one after the other. Even the thought that there were a bunch of people on the other side of this box, watching and listening or maybe even waiting to take a turn with you.
It was hot, you felt hot and you wanted more of all of it. You squeeze the guys dicks as you jerk them both off with determination. Michael myers’ dick twitching was the only short warning you get before he shoots a hot load onto your chest. Your bra ruined with cum makes you pout for a moment before you take the thing off. You put your mouth onto the remaining man and take him down your throat. Brahms cums down your esophagus, his seed tasting weirdly sweet on your tastebuds.
You lick your lips after pulling away the dicks both gone from the holes, making you sigh. You slide off your panties and just as you thought you dripped in arousal. You rub yourself and let out short moans, a guy that was looking like Jason Voorhees pushed his phat cock through the hole. It looked heavy, craving your touch. You touch yourself with one hand while sucking off this fat dick. Even if you couldn’t fit all or even most of it into your mouth you sure as hell tried. You moan against the length of this Jason.
Your fingers thrust into yourself at a similar pace as you sucked and stroked his dick. You come to a stand and turn around, your wet cunt fluttering with horniness. Lining your slit with a guy who looked like a slasher’s dick. You let out a hearty moan as this fat cock stretches you out. You could feel his dick twitch and the man moan from the intrusion. He bottoms out in you, your walls clench around him and then he starts to move slowly in and out of you. You rub your clit as your hole gets pounded into. Another dick pops into the hole in front of you and wraps your hand around it with hesitation. Peaking at the screen in the box you see that it's a guy dressed up in a ghostface outfit.
“Ohshit ohshit ohfucking hell.” you were on the verge of coming and the mix of a Jason hitting all your spots with his girth was making it harder to focus on stroking the guy in front of you.
You try your best to get the other guy to completion but your own impending orgasm was a bit of a distraction to say the least. This Jason guy’s thrust was getting relentless and it was super hot to say the least. You hold on for as long as you could but when you feel the man’s load start to pool down your leg sends you down the edge. Before you could complain about how fast the guy pulled out another guy pushed into you, somehow even thicker and longer than the Jason guy.
You squeeze the hell out of the ghostface and your thumb pushes on his slit. It makes the guy come all over you and hand it a messy gush. The new masked covered hottie was fast enough to work you past that previous orgasm but Jason had given you but now you were getting a bit overstimulated. The faint tapping of the man's pyramid helmet on the box wall makes you giggle. Yet the humor in all of this was cut short from the brutal thrust this pyramid head was giving you.
You were already about to fall into another climax, you couldn't help but scream out a moan that you're sure everyone in the panel heard. Maybe even people outside nearby could hear your whorish moans and whales. This massive curved dick was rubbing your insides just right and your lower half couldn't take much more of it, not standing up like you are right now at least. You reach another chaotic mind altering, pussy spasming, leg trembling, back arching, toe curling climax that almost gives you whiplash an.
You feel the sticky seed fill your cunt and pull out with lackluster pace, almost like he didn’t want to leave your warmth so it takes a minute or so before he actually does . When the pyramid head finally pulls out, your body drops to the stage ground with a thud. You were panting like a dog, cum was dripping out of you and sticking to your thighs. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath.
“This is the best Horror con ever.” you say breathlessly, as you look at another dick slipping into one of the holes. Checking your provided inside the box you see who it is, the host of this event… it’s Harry warden.
#braums#braums smut#ghostface#ghostface smut#michael meyers#michael meyers smut#freddy krueger#jason voorhees#jason voorhees smut#my bloody valentine#harry warden#the boy#the boy smut#scream#scream smut#halloween#halloween smut#nightmare on elm street#amanda the pig#jigsaw#dead by daylight#dead by daylight smut#friday the 13th#friday the 13th smut#Kinktober#Kinktober 2023#anomaly hivemind#smut#pyramid head#pyramid head smut
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The popularity of Letterkenny and Shorsey is absolutely bizarre to me and I can't keep it to myself anymore.
I live in Northeastern Ontario, and I'm gonna let you in on a secret. Some people here are just, 100% like that. Those shows are an absolutely dead on portrayal of how a certain kind of person just, is here. I can walk out my front door and with very little effort find someone who talks and behaves exactly like that.
The places they reference? They exist, it's not fiction. The shows both take place in a city called Sudbury, which is an absolutely real place that is *exactly* like that.
"The Soo"? That's Sault St. Marie, another absolutely real place that we just call The Soo.
Hearing and seeing these places on TV is bizarre to me because basically nobody lives here. We *never* get mentioned, for good reason, nobody frikin lives here.
But it's the slang and accent that gets me more than anything, because here's the thing. That accent, that slang, is again just exactly how some people here talk. It just sounds normal to me.
But that's a fraction of a fraction of people.
Northeastern Ontario is very under populated. The town I live in has less than 10k people, and we are considered on the bigger side. Take that, and consider that it's far less than half the people here that talk or sound like that, and basically nobody in Canada talks like that.
But because of those shows, I'm noticing it's becoming a new stereotypical Canadian accent, which I cannot stress the bizarre-ness of enough.
I don't really have a point with this, I just can't sit on how absolutely bizarre this feels anymore.
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Design for Astoria Carlton-Ritz and powerglide
She's our leading lady for the autobot's human allies. He's a niche extranet micro celebrity
After the death of her father Astoria is the CEO of the to the hybrid technologies company. She's spent most of her life in physical comfort, but emotional distress, being very lonely, she wonders if she can find someone that actually likes her, let alone love her
Astoria desires above all to be free from this corporate world she's been tossed into after her father's death and when she meets the autobots she quickly falls in love, first in a sense of admiration but later romantically, and uses her vast resources to help them in secret
But that leads her to question where those resources are coming from
With Nightbird's disaperance her proprietors grew desparate to find her, turning to the aid of any rich folk that would hear them out, they all refused out of knowing the greater purpose of nightbird's creation or having something to grain from the company's downfall, except for hybrid technologies, led by an absent minded woman that didnt even want to be there, she allowed them to use her company's satellites to search the world without really reading the contract, just wanting to end a day of work without more hassle.
When nightbird found out about the satellites, she blew the things out of the sky, which alerted autobots in space to investigate the earth once more, many years after the disappearance of the first expedition to the planet.
After the destruction of hybrid technologies' satellite, nightbird's forces targeted their owners next, tearing down their leadership quite literally, luckily due to runamuck and runabout's incompetence their attack only left humans injured rather than dead, (but of course leadership in such places tends to be quite old so we'll have to see how it goes down in the hospital)
Except for astoria who came out unscathed, rescued by the autobot powerglide as he literally descended from the sky, they remained in hiding till powerglide discovered the wereabouts of the apex bomber and joined up optimus' team, being assigned to join the trottlebots in scouting out the earth, and take astoria with him so she can be on the run and outside of nightbird or the decepticon's reach
Born gifted with the incredible ability to fly, throughout his early life, powerglide was incredibly popular and looked up to, which resulted in him becoming an immature show off. He loves adventure and freedom but is actually really fond of people with sheltered upbringings because they get impressed easily, since he likes making people happy with his stunts. But he never questioned where the power to do these stunts came from,
Having heard of the lost rescue mission to earth led by optimus prime, he was hovering around the planet to record his exploits to his followers when a satellite behind him exploded and took his screen with it, enticing him to go down to earth and explore, taking on the shape of a passing plane, he witnessed the vehicon's attack on a human building and being raised an autobot he came down to rescue the humans in denger where he met Astoria.
Eventually meeting up with the autobots on earth he was tasked with protecting Astoria as she was put in a journey around the world with the trottlebots to keep her out of enemy hands, their relationship eventually turning romantic during this mission.
As he was exposed to more walks of life during this task, powerglide began to wonder where his power came from, the awnser turning out to be, he wasn't actually a transformer, rather the menber of another race of machines, powerglide was a go bot, and, wanting to learn more about his heritage, he left earth for a time, discovering the plight of his people, and powers he never knew he had, by the time he returned to earth he had grown into a more complete person, ready to take the next step with his relationship, as the autobots simultaneously rallied to free the enslaved, with him and Astoria becoming symbols for the worlds coming together, personally financing the creation of the EDC (earth defense command) a joint organization of transformers and humans, working to foster unity between earth and the greater universe
In the time powerglide was away, the trottlebots began unearthing more of earth's secrets, discovering the transformers had been on earth even before the autobots ever stepped foot on planet, and had remained hidden not out of their own choice but out of a conspiracy to keep them hidden that had it's web around every major human group in history, including astoria's own company hybrid technologies, humanity's misterious benefactors, the six clan had ensured the rise of certain peoples and companies by granting them cybertronian technology harvested from transformers that stepped out of line and interacted with humanity, in exchange for supplying the six clan and aiding in their mission to keep the transformers a secret,
upon learning the truth of where her money came from, astoria decided to take matters into her own hands. Meaphotically of course, the autobots still act as muscle(cars)
To take down the conspiracy leaders and their operations, learning in the process that even outside the conspiracy, companies and big money constantly engage with exploitation, realizing her quest to "take down the bad guy at the center of all this" was a little childish and wouldn't magically fix things only after sundac and lord zarak had seen "the light" in their own very diferent ways (lord zarak died)
She took back control of her company and restructured it to be more humane, even though she knows exploitation is a societal issue and neither her or her company can solve it alone regardless of how many changes they personally undergo, she knows she can change the world for the better with the power she does have and that it's her duty as someone from a gifted background to do so. In her old age she's become a pillar for the community of transformers on the earth, hybrid offering housing and jobs for maximals and predacons alike and funding the EDC
#transformers#transformers fanart#cybertronian#robot#robots#character design#autobots#maccadam#maccadams#powerglide#astoria carlton ritz#transformers au#transformers from a to z
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Swearing in Dead Boy Detectives: Fuck
Overview:
Fuck was said a total of 90 times, in all 8 episodes and by 15 different characters.
Uses Per Episode:
Fuck is said in all 8 episodes of the show, one of only 4 words to do so.
Episode 1: 7
Episode 2: 5
Episode 3: 13
Episode 4: 5
Episode 5: 8
Episode 6: 13
Episode 7: 16
Episode 8: 23
Uses Per Character:
Fuck is said by 15 different characters, more than any other word.
Edwin: 2
Charles: 5
Crystal: 20
Jenny: 18
David: 12
Esther: 6
The Cat King: 6
Tabby Cat: 2
Calico Cat: 1
Litty: 8
Kingham: 5
Brad: 2
Hunter: 1
Twitchy Richie: 1
Girl in Crystal’s Memory 2 (Club Fight): 1
Percent of Total:
Fuck is used 90 times, which is 27.9% of cursing in the show.
Variations:
There are 7 variations of the word used in the show, with the most popular being Fuck, which was used 42 times.
Fuck: 42
Fucking: 37
Fucked-up: 7
Fucked: 1
Fucker: 1
Fuckboy: 1
Mindfuck: 1
Rankings:
Total Uses: Fuck comes in first for total uses, being said 90 times.
Number of Episodes: Fuck is one of only four curse words that is said in all 8 episodes- the others are Shit, Ass, and God.
Most Uses of a Word in a Single Episide: Fuck holds 5 of the top 11 spots.
Most Uses of a Word by a Single Character in One Episode: Fuck took the title here as well, being said 10 times by Jenny in episode 8.
Total Characters: Fuck comes in first for number of characters to say it, with 15 using it throughout the show.
It is one of only two words said by the main trio of Edwin, Charles, and Crystal, the other being Damn.
It is one of only four words said by both Edwin and Charles—the others being Damn, Bloody, and Bloody Hell.
Favorite Word: Fuck is the favorite word of 7 different characters: Jenny (18), David (12), Litty (8), The Cat King (6), Kingham (5), Tabby Cat (2), and Brad (2).
Curse Word Variations: It comes in first for most variations, with 7.
Lines:
Episode 1:
Charles: Edwin, hurry the fuck up!
David: I'll fucking gut you! (x2 while possessing Crystal)
Crystal: It's just a stupid fucking name.
Tabby Cat: Fuck you. I'm not telling you nothing about that house or the witch inside.
Crystal: So maybe he's our fucking demon now!
Edwin: Police don't know what to do with a fucking witch!
Episode 2:
Litty: Little ghost fucker!
Litty: I'm gonna tell you something, because I think you really need to hear it, okay? You should go fuck yourself.
Litty: You know what? You can take that sweater and you can shove it up your ass. Do you have any clue how powerful we are? We are fucking gods!
Kingham: You better hope we never get out of here or we are going to fuck you up, like 'brass knuckles and mace' fuck you up!
Episode 3:
Jenny: It's a super fucked-up story so I'm gonna need some coffee
Crystal: What the actual fuck?
Calico Cat: At least we don't have to go inside. This house is fucked up.
Crystal: Just what the fuck is it?
Litty: Looks like they left you behind because you fucking suck.
Litty: They're all gonna fucking die.
Litty: We were fucking kidding, can't you take a fucking joke?
Litty: Stupid fucking bitch!
Charles: I'm just sick of watching this asshole kill his family a million times for no fucking reason. Tried it your way, and it did nothing. Sod it. Let's try mine. (x2 due to time loop)
Charles: His dad was bad, Edwin. Royally fucked-up bad.
Crystal: I am done wasting my energy on your fuckboy bullshit.
Episode 4:
Jenny: Ok, so you're what? You're just, you're not gonna leave until I explain this even though it's private and go the fuck away?
Tabby Cat: Fuck off. The kid had a sardine.
Crystal: You fucked with my head, I'm gonna fuck with yours.
Charles: Every day, I'm fucking smiling.
Episode 5:
Twitchy Richie: The fuck is this?
Jenny: Oh my fuck.
Crystal: You walk around acting like the sun always shines, and then you lost your shit while beating the Night Nurse. Edwin and I are walking on eggshells around you instead of just saying 'what the actual fuck?'
Jenny: What the fuck, Maxine?
Hunter: Oh, fuck that, you whiny little bitch.
Brad: It's a fucking tragedy that we died, okay?
Brad: What the fuck does that mean?
David: I'm a demon! And I always get what I fucking want!
Episode 6:
Crystal: I want to keep this demon the fuck out.
Jenny: Just like whatever the fuck I am doing is none of yours.
Crystal: It's like he's fucking haunting me.
David: Oh no, I'm so fucking scared.
Charles: Don't listen to him Crystal, it's just some sort of a mindfuck, innit?
David: Why the fuck do you smell so weak?
David: What the fuck did you do?
Crystal: I gave up my powers, OK? I got you out of my fucking head.
David: Now, she's just another fucking terrified lump of human flesh!
Crystal: I am nothing special, So why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?
David: Did you really think that you could beat me with a fucking cricket bat?
The Cat King: Do you hear me? I will stop fucking playing nice!
Esther: Teeth Face, what the fuck?
Episode 7:
The Cat King: Why the fuck are you here?
Esther: I know you blew up Monty's spot, you little fucking snitch.
The Cat King: I don't give a fuck, OK? End of audience.
The Cat King: That was my third life, you bitch. I only get nine. Would you fuck off? Fuck!
Crystal: Fucking bullshit, like I can't help.
Crystal: God, that's fucking insane.
Jenny: Fucking kid.
Jenny: What the fuck?
David: Why the fuck would you even want that?
David: What the fuck did you do? Where are we?
David: Maybe I was just fucking with you.
David: Fuck! Fine, you got your memories back.
Jenny: What the fuck was that?
Esther: You, you.. you think that you're the only one who's ever been screwed over? You're not. I fucking deserve this!
Edwin: That is so fucking stupid, It's unbelievable!
Episode 8:
Girl in Crystal’s Memory 2 (Club Fight): Get your fucking hands off my boyfriend, you slut!
Crystal: Oh, my God. Oh, I'm a fucking awful person. Oh, God, I'm the worst.
Jenny: What the actual fuck?
Jenny: And why the ever-loving fuck is my hair braided?
Jenny: Fuck that! That is bullshit!
Jenny: No fucking way.
Kingham: "No fucking way" to you. "No fucking way" to that side braid. What the fuck is that?
Jenny: Fucking fuck!
Jenny: Screw it. I'd rather know my own life, no matter how fucked-up.
Jenny: Jesus, fuck!
Crystal: Fuck! (Esther has the boys)
Jenny: I figure a meat cleaver can cut up a witch, but what the fuck do I know anymore?
Crystal: Because whatever fucked-up little thing you have going on with Edwin, you must care about him a little.
The Cat King: Fuck me. Did you even listen to my story?
Esther: Oh my God, my own sacrificial knife? I'm impressed. But I'm not fucking around that you're also gonna patch that wall before you die too.
Esther: Who the fuck are you?
Esther: What the fuck? Hey hey hey no! What did you just do?
Jenny: God, that sounds so fucking procedural.
Crystal: I don't have to give up my new fucked-up life while I'm trying to sort out my old fucked-up life.
Notes:
Not included:
In episode 1, Crystal flips off Edwin in the malt shop.
In episode 2, Litty flips off Charles, Edwin, and Crystal with both hands, and then later Kingham and Litty both flip off Edwin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
More Dead Boy Detectives Swearing Posts:
Masterlist
Swearing by Episode
Swearing by Character
Swearing by Word
All Swearing Posts
And if you like lists of things like I do, you can check out my other Dead Boy Detectives ones here!
When Charles’ Shirt Colors Change
George Rextrew’s Edwin comic inspo board
Full soundtrack with timestamps
Moves, Incidents, and Cases Masterlist
First pass at finding where the songs in the score are used- full post with timestamps in progress
#dead boy detectives#dbda#dead boy detective agency#dead boy detectives swearing#swearing by word#word of the day: Fuck#edwin payne#charles rowland#crystal palace#jenny green#the cat king#esther finch#tabby cat#calico cat#brad and hunter#twitchy richie#kingham and litty#dandelion sprites#girl in Crystal’s memory#david the demon#compiled by me#Dbdshow
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Head Over Heels - Prolouge
(The Creature x Reader)
A Lisa Frankenstein (2024) fic
masterlist link
Alright, monster lovers, I’m gonna try something a little more ambitious: an actual fic. Constructive criticism welcome! Please be kind because I have no proof reader and I’m still learning how to write good stories lol. I’m also gonna be fleshing out some characters to better fit the narrative I have in mind for this story. I hope you enjoy the prologue!
Warnings: slight language, my best attempt at worldbuilding, and our gender neutral reader is an orphan, so discussion of that. Also, (N/N) stands for nickname!
~~~
1986, Brookview, Indiana
“Oh. My. GOODNESS, (Y/N)! You have to try a face mask! It’ll help you with those dark circles under your eyes!”
“But (Y/NNNN), pink is totally your color! Just give it a chance, your nails would look SO pretty!”
“You didn’t even jump! It’s like you’re built for these movies, (N/N)!”
Comments like these had already gotten old around- you checked your watch- two hours ago. You considered yourself a survivor of some ancient teenage girl ceremony. Saying polite “no thank you”s to Taffy and the rest of her much too perky friends was becoming quite the laborious task. Some may say you were being too stubborn, as they had treated you with nothing but kindness since you came to town, to which you’d argue that Tricia certainly seemed like she had a bone to pick with you. Along with her, you had unfortunately seen enough of the world to understand one of the most important rules of high school:
The popular girls were mean, and these girls were certainly popular.
You had no idea why Taffy had run up to you on your first day of school and excitedly introduced herself, her gaggle of friends confusedly following after her. You figured this was some kind of territorial power move, checking out the fresh meat before inevitably deciding to kill.
But then Taffy kept hanging out with you. And complementing you. And begging you to hang out with her group of gals.
You took it as some kind of elaborate bit, but hey, they were nice.
At least they didn’t look at you like you were a rotten corpse walking down the halls.
Your thoughts snapped back to your current situation at Taffy’s house. Her mother, Janet, had actually sneered at you when you walked in, but other than that, the night was shaping up to be your average “new girls first sleepover”. Grease had taught you well. That was, until the truth or dare game started.
Lori had brought it up, and it started pretty normal.
“Who’s your crush?”
“OMG, I’m not telling!”
“Come on, Misty! We won’t tell! Right, (Y/N)?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, no.” You mentally cursed yourself.
This is how it continued for a while before you finally perked up.
“I dare you to go to the Bachelors Cemetary Grove.”
“WHAT??? No way, Tricia! There’s no way in hell-“
Your eyes widened in intrigue and you blurted out without thinking, “There’s a bachelors cemetery?”
The girls turned to look at you.
Tricia raised one of her perfect eyebrows.
“You haven’t heard about it? It’s like- uber haunted.”
That piqued your interest. Life in the foster care system had caused you to grow accustomed to the darker sides of life, and you had always had a special interest in the dead. Your own parents had died in a mysterious fire when you were just a baby, leaving you with no real memories of them. You believed that everyone deserved to be remembered, especially the average, unremarkable person.
(Mainly because you knew that’s how you would turn out, and you’d like to be remembered.)
Enough of that, though, because everyone is still looking at you, so you cleared your throat.
“Would I have to go tonight? Or like, right now?”
Tricia rolled her eyes. “I mean, I didn’t ask you-“
“Oh, shush, Tricia! She’s participating!” Taffy smiled widely at you.
Tricia shot you a look.
“Fine. Yes, tonight. And you’d have to bring back a vine to show that you actually went there. The place is full of them, so it should be easy for you.”
You detected a hint of challenge in Tricia’s tone, but ignored it. You wanted to do this to quench the thirst of curiosity that was bubbling in your brain. This seemed like the first interesting thing you had heard about in this boring town.
You stood.
“I’ll do it.”
Taffy cheered and Lori looked at you in amazement. Misty immediately began to try to talk you out of it, worrying about your safety, while Tricia went silent.
Your mind was set, though. Time to see what all the hooplah was about.
~~~
The walk to the gravesite had been much more peaceful than you thought it would be.
Taffy’s house was constant noise, light, color, total overstimulation. However, the cool mist that danced across your skin along with the eerie silence of the woods soothed you. It helped you clear your head.
After walking through the woods for what seemed like hours, you finally came across the old rusted iron gate that sadly displayed the text, “Bachelors Cemetery Grove”. You frowned, finding the disrepair of the cite pitiful. This place should be filled with respect, not to be forgotten by vines and leaves.
Speaking of, holy shit, Tricia was right about the vines everywhere.
Thick, bright green foliage covered every inch of the area, graves poking out here and there to display faded names. It was enchanting to see so much life growing in a place of death. You could have snapped off a vine and booked it out of there, but you were drawn to this cemetery. Careful steps led you deeper and deeper into its heart as you swerved this way and that to try and make out the occasional name.
Then, through a beam of moonlight that shone through a break in the trees, your eyes caught on a specific grave.
You walked closer and came face to face with the stoic expression of a handsome young man, carved in the same stone his grave was made of. He had a strong nose, with beautifully curved lips and hair that flipped upwards on the ends. He was looking slightly downwards, his eyebrows painfully curved upwards, as if to express a dramatic feeling of grief. Resting beside his bust was an arm and a hand, attached to nothing and slightly curled. He looked like a man that would recite beautiful poetry, professing his deepest desires and most intimate thoughts.
Your mouth was slightly agape as you admired him. Despite your more logical thoughts, you brought a hand up to gently caress his cheek, finding a raised texture chiseled there that suggested sideburns. A sigh escaped your lips as you realized the romantic-ness of it all. A man who seemed perfect, a lover, full of life and emotion, condemned to a permanent fixture in a buried world.
You could say it was love at first sight.
#lisa frankenstein#lisa frankenstein movie#lisa Frankenstein the creature#the creature lisa frankenstein#the creature x reader#the creature#cole sprouse#head over heals fic
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would it be possible if we can get fluff/angst of reader and jj?
jj is at midsummers as a busser and reader has had a few a drinks and rafe drugged readers drink and jj saves reader?
Saved
jj maybank x reader
wc: 1.6k
warnings: roofieing (reader gets drugged) ***please don’t read if this could be triggering***
Midsummers was the event of the year. Many kooks gathered around for this celebration. JJ wouldn’t be caught dead surrounded by this many kooks, but he had to work so here he was.
You were middle class, not really a kook but also not a pogue. You did however have friends that were both kooks and pogues. It was late afternoon when you arrived at Midsummers.
The island club was decorated beautifully. There was flowers everywhere and you were excited for the events to take place. You were wearing a pretty silk black dress that flowed down your legs.
Some of your girlfriends greeted you. You got swept up in conversation, chatting about the excitement of the event and what not. You were happy to get caught up with your friends.
The dance floor started to gain popularity. Most of the guests were out on the dance floor. It looked inviting. You were thinking about dancing when you noticed JJ. You considered him a friend and you were surprised to see him here.
JJ had caught your eye before. You couldn’t deny he was attractive. He was incredibly hot for that matter. You felt something in your chest when you looked at him but you highly doubted he felt the same way.
JJ considered you a friend. You have hung out in a group a couple times and JJ enjoyed your company. He thought you were the prettiest girl on the island. He also thought he didn’t have a chance. You were way outa his league.
You were pulled to the dance floor by your friends. You were only dancing a few minutes when Sarah came up to you and asked if you would get some drinks with her. You agreed needing some liquid courage.
Sarah led you to the bar. She looked beautiful in her white dress and flower crown. You told her this and she beamed. The two of you got mai tais. You were both talking, drinking and laughing.
“So whats been going on in your life?” Sarah asked.
“Oh not much the same old same old,” you answered.
“Come on there has to be something, something new happening with you,” Sarah pressed on.
“Um well, I been practicing guitar, that’s not really exciting but,” you began.
“Oh really that’s cool I would love to hear you play sometime,” Sarah showed her interest.
“Yeah maybe. What about you what’s been going on?” You asked.
“Well me and John B are getting pretty serious,” Sarah started to blush and you thought that was sweet.
“What about Topper?”
“Oh he’s old news,” Sarah giggled.
“Oh really? Damn, aren’t you supposed to be here with him though?” You questioned.
“Shhh,” Sarah brought a finger to her lips.
“You’re crazy,” you laughed.
The two of you continued to talk as well as drink a couple drinks. You were getting a little tipsy. The alcohol was addicting. It eased your nerves and it made you want to keep drinking.
You didn’t feel the presence behind you but Sarah narrowed her eyes.
“What do you want Rafe?” Sarah got right to the point, her tone bitter.
“Oh nothing just wanted to talk to Y/N,” Rafe insisted.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Sarah crossed her arms.
“How about you let her speak for herself,” Rafe gritted his teeth but was trying to remain calm.
Being the angel that you are, you assured Sarah that it was fine. “It’s ok Sar, i’ll just be a minute,” you say.
Sarah gave you a wavering look but nodded her head and walked off.
You turned around to face Rafe and he towered over you. Rafe gave you a smile.
“So what’s up?” you asked.
“Nothing really I just wanted to see you and ask you something,” Rafe replied.
“Which is?”
“Would you like to dance?” Rafe requested.
“Um maybe not right this second because-“
“You know what forget about it, no worries,” Rafe assured.
“Can I at least get you a drink?” Rafe asked.
“Sure.”
“You look beautiful by the way,” Rafe complimented.
You smiled, “Thank you.”
JJ was watching you from afar. He could see that you were talking to Rafe. There were alarm bells ringing in his head. Rafe was bad news what was he doing talking to your sweet self?
JJ continued clearing glasses so he could go back and wash them. He couldn’t clear the bad feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. When he looked over at you again his heart broke a little bit at the sight of you throwing your head back in a laugh. Your hand was holding Rafe’s arm and Rafe was smiling as you laughed.
JJ clenched his jaw. Yeah you weren’t his but he was still jealous. He should be the one making you laugh not Rafe. He couldn’t stand it so he went in the kitchen and started washing glasses.
JJ was told to come back out and clear more glasses only a few minutes into washing. With a sigh JJ ventured out into the party. He glanced in your direction and what he saw made his heart stop.
Rafe was putting a tablet in your drink. He was showing you something on his phone with the other hand. JJ froze, he didn’t know what to do but he knew he couldn’t just stand there and let you get drugged.
JJ’s blood was boiling. How dare Rafe try and take advantage of you. Rafe is gonna loose his head because JJ was gonna rip it from his body. JJ legs were running faster than his mind.
JJ’s heart dropped to his feet when he saw you take a drink. JJ raced over there in record time. He put his hand on the small of your back and took the drink away from you. He then dumped it on the floor and threw the glass at Rafe.
JJ took hold of your arms and told you to stay there. He then punched Rafe right in the face. He grabbed Rafe by the collar and said, “If I ever see you go near her again I will kill you,” he spat.
“Come on angel let me take care of you.”
You didn’t know what to think one minute you were there talking to Rafe and the next JJ was here ushering you away. You felt like you were drunk.
You felt safe with JJ. His presence was comforting. So you let him take you away from the party.
With great difficulty JJ got you to the château. You were slurring your words and JJ did his best to hold you up.
“In here pretty lady,” JJ ushered you into his room at the château.
“You smell good,” you mumbled.
JJ laughed, “alright just lay down now.”
“I feel dizzy,” you held your head.
“I know I know everything will be better in the morning you just need to rest,” JJ assured.
“Let’s get your shoes off,” JJ added.
JJ took off your shoes and then tucked you into his bed. He wanted to make sure that you were safe and out of harms way. You were the girl of his dreams. He felt like he needed to protect you.
“Goodnight Y/N, go to sleep,” JJ whispered.
Your head was spinning and you didn’t know what to do other than sleep. So eventually you went to sleep, breathing in JJ’s scent.
JJ went to go sleep on the couch. He wanted to give you your space. He wanted to be there and watch on you but he decided to do that from a far. JJ didn’t want to overwhelm you.
——————
You woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom. The light from the sun shined through the window causing you to wake up. Your head was pounding. Your body was aching. You didn’t know where you were.
You looked around the room confused as to how you got there. You were scared because you didn’t remember leaving midsummers.
JJ was on the couch when you entered the living room.
“Hey stranger,” JJ called.
“JJ?”
“Yep.”
“Do you know what the heck happened?” You asked.
“Um well first I think you should sit down,” JJ ushered you to sit next to him.
“Ok.”
“Alright you were at midsummers talking to Rafe. And he was trying to drug you. He put something in your drink and I couldn’t get to you in time before you took a drink. But luckily I finally got to you and got you out of there. I safely brought you here and let you sleep it off in my bed,” JJ explained.
“Woah,” you took a moment to let his words sink in.
“I’m glad you were there to save me,” you were feeling appreciative.
“I’d do anything for you you know that right,” JJ stated.
“I do now,” you responded.
“Can I kiss you?” JJ asked.
“Mhmm.”
JJ leaned in and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was soft and gentle and JJ kissed you with care. Like if he kissed you any harder you might break. Your lips moved together in sync. He cupped your cheek, thumb moving on your face.
When he pulled away you were both breathless. You looked into JJ’s blue eyes and fell in love. You could swim in his eyes. You had a new found appreciation for JJ. He saved you from what could have been a terrible situation, and for that you were eternally grateful.
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