#genius reader

[snowdropluck204]

Magnetic Force - Spencer Reid x reader (pt 1)

So this is a sort of secret crossover between Criminal Minds and Numb3rs, the reader is going to be based off of Charlie Eppes in that show, but will still be referred to as (y/n)! Enjoy! Xxx

WARNING: This chapter contains mention of rape, death, guns and other weaponry, if you are sensitive to these, you probably shouldn't read this book at all. _______________________________

Third Person pov

The BAU hadn't worked a case this frustrating in a long time. A serial rapist, quite uncommon for what it was, they had a good idea of what profile the guy had, but the last of his victims, was the first one he had killed, so they had to rewrite the profile. This case was difficult on everyone, the rapist had attacked and raped twelve women, now killing his thirteenth. It had taken them this long to get a decent view on his mental state, but now, a wrench had been thrown into the works and they needed reinforcements.

Jason Gideon was stumped, something quite rare for him, he was looking around the room at his team.

JJ was reading through the case file, specifically the newly added victim, Rachel Abbott, most likely trying to figure out what to tell the press. The FBI was getting tips about the rapist for weeks but now that there was a new victim, more specifically a dead one, the tips were becoming too much for anyone, even the FBI, to keep track of.

Morgan was trying to reenact the crime, trying his best to get into the killer's head. Everyone had the same question in their minds, why now? What was so different about Rachel Abbott that the unsub had to kill her? If defiling women's bodies wasn't enough, he branded them too. A final show of possession, a brand, the mark was a ring with four small crosses inside of it, pressed into the neck.

Elle was dead quiet, looking over the files of the victim's family, all of the victims' families... Looking for possible psych matches or clues of the killer's whereabouts.

Reid was, as usual, reading everything. He was taking in the room, the case files, the crime board and photos of the scene, anybody else would have shut their brain down with the amount of information he was flooding into it, but Spencer just sat and observed.

Gideon knew they needed help, but didn't exactly know who to ask. Until it struck him. He stood up, grabbed Hotch by the elbow and led him out of the conference room, a flurry of confused eyes following them. Hotch had been busy looking over people to ask for said help when he had been dragged out of his task.

"(l/n)." Gideon said, a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his face. Hotch looked confused for a moment, until he pulled out a file he had been looking at earlier.

Doctor (y/n) (l/n).

_________________________

The agents walked with purpose through the halls of Georgetown University, they knew who they needed and there wasn't time to waste. There was laughing and cheering as they stepped into a lecture hall, seeing 'Maths for non-mathematicians' written in fun, coloured, block capitals on the chalkboard. They also saw Doctor (y/n) (l/n), teaching the classroom filled with everyday people, not students who went to the school, just people looking to broaden their horizons.

"Okay, most people believe that they can trust their natural instincts, right?" She asked, looking around the room and seeing nodding of heads, her gaze met the stony eyes of Jason Gideon, eyes she hadn't seen in years, he smiled and gave a small wave, she smiled back but continued with her class. "However, maths suggests that our instincts aren't always correct. We're gonna play a little game, I want you all to pretend that we're on a game show," She began, gesturing over to three large cards that she had laid upright, the picture facing away from the crowd.

"And I, am your cheesy game show host," She said with a grin, earning laughter from the room. Gideon could practically hear the cogs turning in the room, the fastest cogs were that of Spencer Reid, who looked intrigued, before figuring it out.

"It's the Monty Hall Problem," He whispered, Gideon and Hotch already placing hands on his shoulders and covering his mouth, before the class for non-mathematicians became taken over by a very real mathematician.

Once (y/n) had finished setting up the cards, she looked back at the class, "Behind one of these cards, is a brand new automobile," She informed, wiggling her fingers at the cards, "And behind the other two, are goats. Yeah, goats, don't ask why, that's just what I wanted to put on the cards!" She declared, laughing with the room. Gideon smiled looking at (y/n), he hadn't seen her in years but could see that she had acclimatised to her position nicely, she had the whole class eating out of the palm of her hand, hanging on every word, including his team.

"Now I need a volunteer," Once again, Hotch and Gideon kept Spencer back from volunteering any information.

"Come on, more of you than that!" She jeered, encouraging others to join in the demonstration. "Julie, why don't you pick one of these cards? Remembering, of course, that the objective is to win the car, not the goat, as cute as I have made them!" She muttered, earning more laughter from the class. The girl from the front of the class, Julie, picked a card, the one in the middle.

Before turning it over, (y/n) asked her class, "Now, what are the chances of that card being the winning card?" At this point, Spencer was silently dying and the team was looking over at him, smiles on their faces at their beloved brainiac.

"One in three." Julie responded with conviction.

"Brilliant, three choices, one car, simple enough right?" (y/n) explained, the class nodding along, "Now, here's where the game takes a turn, I'm gonna reveal to you one of the cards that you didn't choose," Turning one of the cards over to reveal a goat. "Cute isn't he?" (y/n) giggled.

"So, we have one card we know is a goat, two cards left to be revealed. Now, knowing what you know, do you want to switch your choice of card? Or, more importantly, for the purpose of this class, does it matter? Will switching your choice improve your chances of winning?" (y/n) asked the class, genuinely curious to see their side.

Julie looked confused, "Well, no. Because now there's two cards, it's fifty-fifty, right?" She asked, the class mumbling and nodding along with her. Spencer was frantically shaking his head, catching (y/n)'s attention and summoning a loud laugh from her.

"Well, it seems like someone in the back knows the next part of this class," She chuckled, leaving Spencer's face red, beginning to fiddle with his fingers.

(y/n) could already see how uncomfortable he was with this attention, so she moved on. "Seems like many of you agree with Julie, yeah? That's what your instinct tells you, but you'd be wrong." She said, her lips forming a straight line.

"Switching your cards at this point, actually doubles your chances of winning the car," At the volume of confusion, (y/n) gives a light sigh of exhaustion, "Let me explain," She smiled. "Since we started with two goats, it's more likely that your first choice, was in fact, a goat."

Turning the cards to face away from them again, (y/n) asks, "Here, what are the odds of choosing the goats, from all three cards. Two out of three, right. So it's more likely that this is a goat," She said, turning the card that Julie had originally chosen, revealing the goat, "And it's more likely that this one, is the car." She explained, revealing the car was on the card that had yet to be chosen.

"See, switching your choice, gives you a two out of three chance of winning the car, rather than the one of three chance that we all begin with!" (y/n) picks up the card with the car, jokingly making some car noises.

Looking back up at the BAU, she concludes her class, inviting them to make their own Monty Hall scenarios, waiting for them all to leave before turning to the BAU and inviting them closer to her desk.

___________________________

"It's been a while Gideon, how are you?" (y/n) asked, already moving forward to hug the agent, shocking the rest of the team, especially when he reciprocated.

"I've been better Peanut," He whispered at her, before moving back and gesturing to his team. "I believe introductions are necessary." He let the agents take over, wandering over to (y/n)'s desk to do what he was best at, profile.

Looking over at the agents, (y/n) gave a small wave, "Doctor (y/n) (l/n), it's nice to meet you all." She said, her voice dripping over all of them like honey, she had that affect.

First to step forward was a tall agent in a suit and tie, with dark hair, dark eyes and an air of authority. "Agent Hotchner, call me Hotch," He shock her hand briskly before following after Gideon, leaving the younger agents to introductions.

A dark skinned man in a Henley type shirt stepped up next, "Agent Derek Morgan, nice to meet you too," He then gestured to the women standing at the door, one blonde, the other a brunette, both gorgeous and intelligent looking. "Agents Jennifer Jareau and Elle Greenaway," He told the professor, and finally pointed to the lanky man with dark hair and eyes, wearing a cardigan and glasses. "And that is-"

"Reid, uh- Spencer um, Doctor Spencer Reid." The man he was pointing to sort of decided. (y/n) smiled at the man.

"Really?" She asked, almost chuckling, "You don't sound so sure?" She finished, Spender blushed a bright red, the rest of the team chuckling at the woman's teasing.

Gideon walked back over, "Listen, Peanut, we need your help." He began, a sombre feeling enveloping (y/n)'s previously cheerful classroom. (y/n)'s smile faded, stepping back a little.

"Gideon, you know I don't do consultant work anymore... After what happened..." She began, her voice taking on a much more meek sound as she avoided eye contact with the seasoned profiler.

Gideon smiled, his fatherly smile, "I know, but we need you Peanut, you helped the FBI with a lot of cases, what's one more?" He asked softly.

(y/n) looked at Gideon, then at the rest of the team, "This is about the serial rapist, isn't it?" She asked, "In LA?"

Gideon nodded, "We have a fairly comprehensive psych profile, but we still have no idea where to begin searching." He told the mathematician, "We fly out this evening, we want your help." He almost pleaded.

(y/n) sighed, she thought back at the work she had done for the FBI, questioning whether or not she should jump back into it, she sighed, pulling out her phone and calling her TA.

"Lewis? Hi, It's (y/n), I need you to cover classes for me for the next few days... I'm being called away for something... Okay, thanks." She hung up the phone, looking back at Gideon, an unsure look on her face. "You owe me." She murmured, "I'll meet you at the airport tonight, five o'clock, I'll look over the files on the jet, gives me four and half hours to pack what I'll need and prep classes, plus the five hours, give or take fifteen minutes for the flight over..." (y/n) murmured.

Spencer watched as she made the calculations, intrigued, he had never met this woman, anything he knew was based off of her FBI consult file and brief things he'd heard in passing from Gideon, apparently, he was her mentor when she was younger, not for FBI purposes, simply to act as a father figure, they were close, based on the nickname he had given her...

From what Spencer knew, she was a prodigy, similar to himself, no Eidetic memory, but she had an IQ of 182, a PHD in both mathematics and psychology and graduated early from basically every educational establishment. Spencer was hoping this was a person he could get along with, but he was also wary, she had clearly stopped consulting with the FBI for a reason, he wanted to discover why, but also knew that any investigating into her past would violate her trust...

But still... He was curious...

____________________________________________

I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I know I keep starting and stopping on my series, but writer's block has a serious hold on me right now... Anyway! Love you guys! Xxx

[musclemommy17]

the rare Japanese Snowbell

Pairing: Shoto todoroki x genius reader

Syn: Todoroki with a genius lover? and how do they work together as a pair?

Warnings: mind games, slightly gore, talk of a crime scene, stressed reader and a icy hot watching her every move, Cussing, a cute lil fic with Shoto making reader feel better. Most fluff is at the end. I tried to make it a little different from the norms. <3

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

October 17,

The smell of books fills the air as Y/N sits leaning on the desk. Your eyes squinting slightly reading over files. Not bothering to get out your hero suit, you read over the newest crime report. Crime Analytics have always been your favorite. Pictures flashing in your mind as you read looking in the papers. "Y/n love?" Turning around you see a certain half and half man. His mixed color eyes scanning you. "The report isn't due for a week." Todoroki says softly but sternly. Not wanting you too overdo it. "Sorry, but how come the murderer, uses measurements and a math standpoint. Most killers are more into meds and human body parts." You say cringing slightly. Todoroki leans against the wall. "Stop it. Come eat before it gets cold. Bakugo and Denki broke the sink after Denki snuck a snack while Bakugo was cooking." He says in his monotone voice. "Do I want to know?" Your say not bothering to look at him. The scene doesn't make sense. Almost like the body was placed there from a different place. The killer may even have multiple places to commit- "Y/N?" Todoroki interrupt's your thoughts. Seeing him now beside you. "Yea?" You look up at him. "Let's go eat love. You tend to over think without eating." He says half-jokingly. With out another word you guys go and sit down. Everyone jokes and smiles at each other. Class 1-A was a family. A big family. Even hurting each other like siblings. Or bullies. Looking over at Denki with a wrap on his head. And seeing a broken sink in the kitchen. Looking back to see Bakugo's hand wrapped too. Ouch. The girls laugh as mina puts lip-gloss on Denki who is passed out. Feeling as hand on your knee under the table you look to see Shoto looking worried at you. "Zoned out." You say going back to eating. "I was thinking about going to see my mother tomorrow." Shoto says making convo. "I have to go to the crime scene. I hope the lab didn't take everything into testing yet." I say thinking about my soon date with a murder scene.

October 18,

Cold air peaks though your jacket as you had to the house. Yellow tape covers the house. Aizawa talks to an officer as they allow me in. Part of the Crime Analytics class is you studying the scene. Most struggle with this. Wanting to fight. And yes, you can do that too. But chasing and profiling the suspect is your strong suit. Besides being socially awkward and not knowing general keys peoples use on day-to-day activities your flaw has its perks. The photographic memory never failing you on cases. The thrill of studying and picking a suspect's brain as if acting like them in the scenes caused you to get popular with officers. Now going on scenes themselves helping and training. The cold gloves now on your hands you pick up a soaked in blood cloth. Seems torn from something. Putting it in a bag you stand up. "Love?" Turning around Todoroki is inside. gloves on too. "Hey. I didn't want you breaking down." he says knowing about how I can break down overstimulated. "The thigh muscle was missing from her body." I say still thinking. "Okay well then they played doctor?" Todoroki says cringing at the pool of blood. He never liked these things. "No. The killer shows no sign of having medical background." "Well maybe he was trying to learn?" Todoroki says firing back looking at some picture frames. "No. He uses math in his crimes." "He?" Todoroki says turning to you. "It's a male." I say knowingly. Stepping over some blood I look closer at the blood. "He is no doctor. So, he won't be selling the parts. uses math. goes after a type of girl every time." I say mumbling connecting dots. Someone calls Todoroki out of the room leaving you alone. the background buzzes with voices as you focus closer. A knife. He skilled with it. Going after teenage girls. Athletic. All girls do sports. Missing muscles in their body. Showed signs of fighting. These thoughts flood in your head as you walk over to the window. Seeing it clean and looking normal. Way to normal. Everything is dusty showing she hasn't cleaned but the window. But no fingerprints on it. Unless the killer cleaned it off. He knows how to use a knife and math. He knows how to clean up a scene. He uses measurements of drugs to paralyze the girls. how does he know the right amount to use? Feeling someone grab your shoulder you turn quickly. "Um ma'am the scene is closing Aizawa is waiting in the front." The officer says softly.

8:24 pm.

Dropping off some notes to Bakugo you see a new book on his shelf. "Oi. what are you looking at nerd?" Bakugo says looking at him with that annoyed face. "You got a new book?" I say walking over to it. "You need learn how to shut that whole photo memory shit off." He says sitting down turning away from you. The hard cover is cold. Its new. Most liking bought online. "Seasoning for the seasons" A cheesy name on it. Yep, it's a cooking book alright. Your about to put it up when you see measurements on the back. measurements. Opening it shows body parts of beef and where its located. What knifes to use for meats and for different textures. And next. Measurements for cutting the meat. on the back it talks about farmers use for drugs on the animals to make death painless. Taking the book you run out. Bakugo screaming and exploding shit as you run out of the house. Getting in the keys to Todoroki's car you get in. Not bothering to even get out of your pjs you go to back up out of the drive away when a hand slams on the hood. "Y/n, what's wrong?!" Todoroki ask opening the door to the driver's seat trying to stop you. "We have to go. The police. The murder." You mumble shaking as Todoroki pulls you out. Hugging your body, he stops your tossing and turning. "Hey. breathe. Get in the passenger seat I will take you." he says calmly not bothering to ask me more questions. Knowing damn well you don't have your license yet.

9:12 pm.

Sitting in the police station talking to the police. Aizawa lecturing Todoroki for giving in. This isn't the first time I have dragged him along. "The killer eats the girls. We are closely related to pigs. Ribs are soft and tender. Most psychopath's have texture issues such as me, so we like hard meet. Tough pork chops." you breath as the officers look at you crazy. Todoroki standing close beside me protectively. Staring at you with amazement. "He paralyzes the girls like they do in pig slaughterhouses. But he works in a kitchen or even a production line for meats. He knows how to cook the girl's muscles to taste like pork. He uses knifes and is very good with them. But he doesn't have medical experience no he has slaughterhouse experience." You say shaking your body over stimulated. Clues and thoughts going 90 to nothing as everything clicks. The officers take action researching.

11:53 pm.

Todoroki hugs your back. Playing with your hair as you guys lay down. After two panic attacks and Todoroki telling everyone to fuck off as they tried to hug you when you got home, knowing you don't like psychical touch when stressed. Your breathing is calm. All your thoughts drift as Todoroki's tight hold calms you. "You're like a Japanese Snowbell." He says softly. "Those are rare Tho. They are in the family Styracaceous and are trees but considered flowers-" You ramble saying facts that don't make sense on why you would know. "I know." Todoroki had always had his own way of thinking. Never explaining why just always saying his mind. He was a leaving Bold titles while you were a living definition. "You can read 1234 words per minute but when it comes to poetry you stumble." He says kissing your shoulder. "It doesn't make sense to me. I don't like fiction or a challenge of who can write the best rhyming words." You can feel him smile. "Poetry is all you read." u say rolling your eyes. "Maybe because I'm not good explaining myself." He says turning your over slightly to look at him. "Why did you say I am like a Japanese Snowbell?" U ask softly. Shoto smile "until you can understand poetry you won't know." He says challenging you to master another skill. not saying anything your brain ranks though facts about them. maybe it's because you don't like the cold?

12:02 am.

Todoroki smiles hearing you sleeping. Thinking back to how he thought you were even weirder than him when he first saw you the first day of school. Early summer you bloomed. Happy with the nice weather you would sit outside reading multiple books at a fast pace while everyone joked and messed around. How you effortlessly solved hard math equations. He studied you more than the schoolbooks you studied. Noticing your dislike for poetry. Learning how to help with autism and changing little things around the dorm to fit your comfort. Never touching your organized messes of papers and books you have stacked up on your desk. Making a holding for everything you lose and putting a tracking device on your keys and air pods. Everything you lose so he can be your knight and shining armor. He thought you were a rare flower. But your smarts made you as strong as a tree. He thought you were beautiful and rare. Never seen twice. Just like a Japanese Snowbell.

[thegeniusofplaytimeco]

Chapter 14: In a Silent Way

It continues: In the depths of the Playtime Co. factory, you recently faced Huggy Wuggy. You tricked him and sent him straight to death.

You meet Poppy and later even Mommy Long Legs - but are they really a challenge for the genius?

You are also beginning to change, even if it is barely noticeable. It seems as if your journey to redemption is beginning.

---

Here I am again!

Yes, it took a little longer, at least I think so.

Christmas was great, and I celebrated New Year too (not like the people who shoot a thousand rockets into the streets, but that doesn't matter). Anyway, I'm back now.

For those who haven't understood it yet: Now the story really gets going! Pure character development for our reader, but also for the other characters as they also change in the factory.

I don't want to give too much away just yet, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

wc: 8.6k

---

"♫ -On the hiiiiighway to hell-♫ "

Can't she finally shut up?

The group is still here, between the many metal catwalks that lead to the Poppy Room. Cold metal creaks under your footsteps, the darkness interrupted only by flickering light.

The break earlier was short, the critters had eaten something, but the tension remains. Your mind is running at full speed, as always. You analyze everything - the position of the critters, possible injuries, any weakness that could be dangerous now. Your thoughts jump ahead: scenarios of what could await you behind the door with the spray-painted flower.

But she walks next to you.

Olivia.

The woman you've only just met. Her posture, her movements, everything about her seems... different. Too relaxed, too carefree. She doesn't seem to feel the tension, or she's deliberately ignoring it.

"♫ -Hiiighway to hell-♫ "

You breathe out calmly, but the sound of her humming still stings your head.

"♫ -On the highwaaay to-♫ "

You turn your head slightly towards her, but say nothing. Words would be unnecessary, a waste of time. Besides, she's not worth it anyway, as stupid as she is.

She notices your look, stops humming and grins as if she's caught you doing something. "What, you don't like AC/DC?"

You don't answer. Your gaze returns to the door.

She's so damn annoying, why is she even running with us? If she hadn't found us, she'd probably be down there in a pile of corpses right now.

Behind you, the critters whisper softly. Kickin looks nervous, his movements restless. Hoppy, on the other hand, is determined as ever - her gaze fixed on the door. You memorize these details without letting it interfere with your focus.

"All right, boss." Olivia shrugs and laughs softly, but you notice the slight scorn in her voice. "I'll let you have your moment."

This takes you a few steps further. Your thoughts, always analytical, always rational, drift for a moment in a less rational direction.

In my gun, in the second compartment at the top, there should still be the pistol.

Your gaze glides unobtrusively over to her. Olivia walks beside you, her steps springy, as if she's running across a playground rather than through the cold, ominous hallways of Playtime Co. Her silly blonde hair, her goofy outfit not in the least bit appropriate for this environment.

After every fourth step, she takes a little jump. Like a child. A childish, careless behavior that irritates you almost more than the sounds of the old metal corridors below you.

Then there's that ridiculous smile. Broad, carefree, as if you had narrowly escaped a deadly situation twenty minutes ago.

Should I kill her?

The thought comes quietly, coldly, like an algorithm that checks whether a variable should be removed to increase efficiency. Without the critters noticing, it could work. It would save food. Energy. Problems.

But just as quickly as the thought came to you, you pick it apart in your head.

If they found out - and it wouldn't be particularly hard to find out - it would traumatize the group. It would take them time to process it, and time is the last thing we have.

Another hum enters your thoughts.

"♫ -And I'm goin' down, All the way-♫ "

You feel your train of thought sharpening, almost becoming more critical.

It just gives me reasons to question everything even more closely, doesn't it?

You ignore it, like so many things. But in a tiny corner of your mind, its energy lingers. Not because she's important in any way - but because she's... different. Different from anyone you've ever met before.

She should use her energy to think. Maybe then she wouldn't be so mentally absent all the time.

Your gaze turns forward, to the door with the huge flower above it. Each step brings you closer, and your mind returns to what waits beyond that door. Every variable, every possibility is weighed up.

Behind you, the critters are still whispering quietly to each other, but their voices are like background noise that barely catches your attention.

And Olivia? She continues to hum. Quieter and quieter, but just loud enough for you to hear.

"You know, I once had someone in my class who was a bit like you," she says suddenly.

You don't react. You don't look at her. Your steps remain steady and your gaze remains fixed on the door with the spray-painted flower. But you can feel it - the critter's eyes resting on both of you. Their stare is palpable, as if they could thicken the air between you.

"He was the only one who read through the instructions for his calculator," she continues, in a voice that almost sounds like she's telling a secret. "Always liked politics, too. You know, that boring shit."

Do I really have to listen to this stupid shit all the time now?

You exhale quietly, more out of reflex than frustration, and calculate in your head how much energy you could save if she would just stop talking. No humming, no slogans, no stories. The thought lingers in the back of your mind as you analyze every aspect of the surroundings.

Olivia notices your lack of reaction - of course she does - but she remains unfazed. "Well, anyway. The guy was totally boring, but he explained math to all of us when we got stuck. I mean, he really felt like a genius."

You feel a slight twitch at the corner of your mouth, which you immediately suppress. What is she trying to achieve?

"The funny thing was," she continues, "he was really smart. But he had zero idea how to deal with people. Just like you."

The words hang in the air. The critters fall silent behind you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to look at her out of the corner of your eye.

She smiles at you - wide, unwavering, without a trace of fear or restraint. That stupid, stupid grin that slowly burns itself into your mind.

Maybe I should kill her after all.

"But hey!" she suddenly says, almost shouts it, and turns her whole body towards you. Her grin only widens. "It's not your fault. I mean, I've felt like an outsider my whole life too."

It shows, idiot.

You get closer and closer to the door with the flower. The metal catwalks no longer divide, the path is now straight ahead - a direct corridor to your destination.

Olivia takes a step back. You notice it in the corner of your eye, hear it in her light footsteps on the metal and smell the coffee she obviously drank earlier. The smell fades the more distance she keeps.

"You're all so cute!" she suddenly shouts. With a single, exaggerated step, she wraps her arms around DogDay and hugs him tightly while stroking his fur.

The other critters stop abruptly, their gazes alternating between Olivia and you.

She does know that underneath the fur and plastic layer are the innards of a child, doesn't she? How stupid and crazy is she?

"Hey, Y/N."

Bubba is suddenly standing next to you. Of course you notice him - you always notice everything. You had already noticed his presence minutes before, but now he speaks to you directly.

His gaze is questioning, curious, a hint of uncertainty in his posture. He uses this brief interval while you're all just waiting for Olivia to tell you something.

"What do you think of her? Can we trust her?"

You answer without hesitation. "She's stupid, childish and completely incompetent."

Bubba seems slightly surprised, but you continue.

"She doesn't know when to shut up, speaks without thinking and does things without thinking them through."

Bubba remains silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you as if he is trying to read more into your words than you are revealing.

"But she hasn't let us down yet," he finally says quietly.

You say nothing. Your eyes fix on the flower on the door as you take the last few steps towards it.

When you reach the door, you and Bubba turn around. The sight is, as you would expect, irritating.

Olivia does what she does best: doing idiotic shit.

She hugs the critters one by one, her movements exaggerated, her voice an octave too high as she makes silly noises and talks to them as if they were pets.

"Uhhh! Who's a good puppy?!" she exclaims as she pats DogDay's head exaggeratedly.

"You're so fluffy!" she adds as she strokes Hoppy's ears.

"CatNap, you smell so mysterious!" she says as she almost forces the visibly annoyed Critter into a hug.

"You're so cute, Crafty!" Olivia grins from ear to ear, while Crafty paces nervously, unsure how to react.

The critters look different - some confused, others annoyed, some even seem to enjoy the unexpected chaos.

"How much time do you expect we have left?" Bubba finally asks, his voice low as if he doesn't want to disturb the scene in front of you.

You answer without taking your eyes off Olivia as she continues with her idiotic comments. "I don't expect. I know."

Bubba looks at you blankly, waiting for more.

"We have to hurry," you continue. "At the current pace, we're just under an hour behind schedule."

Bubba nods slowly, taking your hint seriously, although his eyes keep wandering to Olivia and the critters. "And what do we do with... her?" he finally asks, his voice even softer.

You don't answer. Instead, you let your eyes wander briefly to Olivia, who is trying to give Kickin a high-five as he flicks his wings at her hand.

It wastes energy, time and sanity. But in this moment - this irritating, chaotic moment - she does what you can't do: She makes the group smile.

You watch them, their silly movements, the critters' laughter, Bubba's soft giggles. And for a moment - just a fraction of a second - you think back.

Of course, you saved their lives by getting them out of the factory. But you gave them the life they now lead - dirty, locked up, disturbing - in the first place.

Even at home, when you ordered pizza and they were all sitting around the table, or when you explained the plan for this whole "mission" to them. You can't remember smiling. And if you can't remember it, that means it didn't happen.

For a brief moment - less than a second - you feel a strange sensation in your stomach. Not pain, not hunger, but something else. An unpleasant tug that you can't immediately place.

Your eyes remain fixed on Olivia, still clinging to the critter. DogDay looks confused, but he lets her be. Crafty is visibly nervous, while Hoppy eyes her with her arms crossed, almost as if to reprimand Olivia.

"A heart full of sentimentality is dangerous, you know that Y/N."

There it was again. Elliot Ludwig's voice, which you haven't heard for weeks, and yet it sounds as clear in your head as if he were standing right behind you.

It reminds you of something that you should already know.

Feelings are a weakness. They make you careless and interfere with clear decisions. You know that. You've always known it.

Olivia laughs loudly, a shrill, incongruous sound in the silence of the metallic catwalks. DogDay wags his tail slightly, a reflex he can't control, and Bubba, who is always so serious and analytical, seems... less tense.

Your eyes return to the door. This is your destination. You are the only one who can make sure you reach it.

But still - this second, this feeling, remains.

Without further hesitation, you turn around and open the brown wooden door. The sound is heavy and drawn out, almost like a sigh, and a long corridor awaits you behind it.

Yellow wallpaper adorns the walls, the color is faded and uneven. Simple lamps hang every few meters, their light is weak and casts shadows on the walls.

You don't wait for the others. Without a word, you enter and walk on alone. Your footsteps echo on the wood beneath you as you feel Bubba following a few meters behind you.

The stairs in front of you lead downwards, creaking under your weight. You go lower, following the long corridor, and meanwhile your mind drifts off into thoughts.

From -0 to 0.

What was I thinking?

The critters hate me. That is clear. Their looks, their attitude, even the way they sometimes fall silent around me - it's all obvious. Hoppy especially. Just the way she looks when she even hears my name... that look of disgust and distance.

I will never be on an even keel with her.

The realization burns quietly, coldly. But it is not new.

You reach the next room. It's simple, almost cozy: wooden furniture is spread out in a mess, blue cushions lie on the floor as if they had been carelessly left there. But your gaze scans more.

A movement of your neck, a quick turn, and you see it: a cupboard, large and massive, concealing a secret door. It's locked, inaccessible, but that's no obstacle for you.

Your eyes wander back. From a distance, you see Olivia and the critters slowly following you. Olivia is still clinging to DogDay, her arms wrapped tightly around him as she laughs out loud.

You shake your head slightly, barely noticeably.

Why is she like this? Why can't she just... be different?

But deep down, you know that their normality is different. And that their otherness keeps the group alive.

You turn your gaze away and move on, your focus back on the hidden door and the possibilities it holds.

We are about to encounter an experiment.

This is the Poppy Room - the place where the little doll was once locked up in a glass cabinet.

You remember how Elliot used to talk about her with an enthusiasm that irritated you even then. "Poppy's something special," he'd said. "All the kids covet her. She's perfect."

But behind these words you have only seen the numbers. Poppy was one of the first successful experiments ever created. Nobody had done it before her. It was a milestone - and a bestseller at the same time. The production figures and revenue were astronomical, a testament to what was possible.

But you never liked Poppy.

She was arrogant, always acting as if she wanted to help the other experiments, especially the new ones. But you saw through what she really wanted: Information. She wasn't interested in the experiments themselves - only in the things they knew about the company.

She's manipulative, dishonest. But I know she'll be against the Prototype if there's an uprising.

That is her pattern. She's always looking for ways to protect herself, even when she's pretending to help others. And then there's Kissy Missy - one of the few who could remember Playcare. Poppy has always taken advantage of her, using her memories and loyalty for her own ends.

You're already calculating what that could mean. If the Prototype really has control of the factory, Poppy will turn on him. But how much can you count on that? How long can you calculate her loyalty before it breaks?

Your footsteps continue to echo through the room, the cupboard with the hidden door remains in your field of vision. In the background, you hear the light footsteps of the critters and Olivia's still exaggerated voice as she talks to DogDay.

Kissy Missy, Poppy will stop us or help us. But only as long as it suits them.

You stop for a moment, your gaze fixed on the old wooden door. Your hand rises slowly and glides over the worn wood. It feels cold, rough, almost like an echo of past decisions.

You take the last step. Bubba stands beside you, his tall, blue figure restless but silent. Together you open the door, and immediately your thought is proven.

I knew it.

The room behind it is small, quiet and full of dust, but at its center is a cabinet. Solid wood with a glass door that reveals the contents: Poppy.

The little doll sits motionless behind the glass, her eyes lifeless, and yet she seems to be staring at you. Her hair, perfectly coiffed, the blue skirt and the red shoes - everything is as immaculate as it ever was. She looks exactly as she did when she was at the peak of sales.

She is here. Of course she's here. She has stood up to the prototype's rebellion.

"Is that..." Bubba's voice breaks the silence, his words hesitant, almost reverent. "Another experiment?"

You turn your head slightly towards him before your gaze slides back to the doll. "Yes."

The word comes short, concise, like a mechanical answer. For you, Poppy is not a riddle. She is a relic, a reminder of the beginning of these experiments - and of the mistakes that were made.

"She's... small," Bubba mumbles, his brow furrowed as he looks at the doll.

"Watch out," you say without opening the glass door. Your voice is cool, emotionless. "She has her own agenda."

Bubba swallows audibly, his eyes shifting from you back to Poppy. "Why is she locked up?"

"Because otherwise she wouldn't be here." Your answer is as precise as the calculation running in your head. If Poppy is here, the Prototype has deemed her a threat. So she's not on his side. At least not yet.

The footsteps of the critters and Olivia come closer, their voices softer as they enter the room. DogDay is the first to stand next to Bubba, and Olivia pushes through right behind them, her eyes fixed curiously on the glass door.

"Oh wow, she's so cute!" says Olivia, leaning forward slightly as if she wants to take a closer look at the doll. "Can I touch it? With Big Y/N's permission, of course."

Cute. Of course she is. She needs to shut the fuck up before we get into trouble because of her.

You're quicker, of course. Without a movement on your face, you put down your bag, adjust your GrabPack and move in such a way that nobody can see what you're doing. Your movements are precise, mechanical.

You pull the small pistol out of your rucksack, your eyes still fixed on the cupboard. You stow the gun inconspicuously in your right coat pocket.

If she tries to play any games with us, I'll shoot her on sight.

You exhale calmly, your calculations continue to run incessantly. Risks, scenarios, how long it will take to draw the weapon - everything is weighed up.

But when you turn around, something happens that you hadn't anticipated.

Olivia.

She is standing there. Right in front of the wardrobe. Her eyes are sparkling, and there's that stupid grin on her face that always throws you for a loop. But it's not just that. Next to her - open, wide, and empty - is the cupboard.

Of course she did. Of course she opened it.

Before you can react, the light flickers. A brief, bright flash, followed by complete darkness.

A few of the critters make quiet, restless noises, but no one screams. The darkness is thick, almost tangible, and then you feel it: Olivia is clinging to your arm.

Apparently out of safety.

Your instinct screams at you to push her away, to put your hand in your coat pocket, to draw your gun, to do something to regain control. But then you hear it.

One voice.

"You opened my case."

The words are quiet, high-pitched, almost childlike - and yet they echo in the silence as if they were coming from everywhere.

You freeze, every muscle tensed, while the meaning of the words settles in your head.

This is Poppy. She is now free.

The light flickers once, twice - and comes on again. Your eyes immediately turn to the cupboard. Empty. Of course it's empty.

Slowly you move your head back, your mind working like a machine, but this time without clear answers. Olivia is standing in front of you. She's looking straight at you. You're the same height, so eye contact is unavoidable.

Her hands are still clutching at your chest, the nervous grin on her face showing no trace of fear, but... something else. Her cheeks are flushed, and for a moment you wonder if it was the darkness that upset her, or if she really is that... idiotic.

Red spots. Really? She's even more childish than I thought.

A quick glance out of the corner of your eye shows you the critters' reactions. Their faces tell different stories: Some look confused, others still slightly shocked by the sudden darkness.

But then there's Bobby.

She stands there, both hands in front of her face, her eyes wide open, and a huge grin taking up almost her entire face. She looks at you - you and Olivia - as if she were a teenage girl watching the most exciting scene of a romance.

What the hell is she thinking?

Your eyes return to Olivia, whose grip is slow to loosen, her hands sliding away from your chest, but the smirk remains. She doesn't say anything, and that annoys you almost more than anything else.

Behind you, DogDay can be heard growling softly, probably still nervous about the darkness, and Hoppy steps closer to the cupboard, her eyes searching.

Poppy is free. That's the problem now.

You exhale, deeply and quietly, and refocus on the situation. No time for unnecessary emotions or silly dynamics.

"Y/N?" Bubba's voice is quiet, but you can hear the uncertainty in it. His eyes wander restlessly back and forth between you and Olivia before they finally fix on the empty cupboard. "What do we do now?"

You turn your head just slightly, your eyes narrow almost imperceptibly.

"Isn't it obvious, you idiot," you say coldly, without a trace of patience in your voice.

A few of the critters make startled noises, a collective gasp that only heightens the tension in the room. Even Olivia, who just a moment ago had a nervous grin on her face, suddenly looks shocked. Her expression changes - the red blotches on her cheeks fade and she looks at you as if she expected you to say something else.

You ignore them all.

"We're following the plan."

With that, you turn away and leave the room without paying attention to the others. You don't hear their footsteps, only the glances you feel as they look after you.

Every second you move further away from them, every step takes you deeper underground.

You open the door that was hidden behind the cupboard and enter the next Hallways.

The air is colder down here, denser, and the light is weaker, flickering occasionally. The hallways stretch into the darkness, uneven metal and old cables run along the walls as if they were holding the corridors together.

Alone, only your own footsteps echo through the silence. Your thoughts remain calm, focused. Poppy is free. It's a risk, but a calculable one.

You know the others will follow at some point. Probably Olivia first, with her annoying enthusiasm, and then DogDay, always trying to keep the group together. But now? You don't need any distractions now.

There you are.

A place where your last memory really doesn't make you feel good: Elliot Ludwig's office.

The room in front of you is silent, as if frozen in time. The heavy wooden furniture, the imposing shelves full of files, and the huge desk with the chair behind it - everything is so familiar and yet so empty.

You are still standing here alone. You know that the others are right behind you, their footsteps barely audible on the metallic hallways. They will be with you in less than ten seconds, but you don't care.

"It's about the family."

The words echo in your head as clearly as if you had just said them. You remember perfectly how you once sat here, opposite him, at this desk. You had wanted to explain the situation with the death of your mother.

Elliot was one of the few people who ever listened to you without fear of your success or failure. But when you dared to say that you wanted to take time off to grieve, he had answered you without hesitation:

"Quite simply, Y/N, there's something more important than a death in your family at the moment. "

You should have hit him. Right in the face. So hard that his nose would break and his head would bob backwards. You should have dropped him until his blood ran down his throat and reminded him of what he had said. A moment he would never forget.

But you hadn't done it. Instead, you had remained silent, staring at him while your mind analyzed and weighed up the situation as usual.

Your hand reaches for your pocket, back in the present. You, the Scientific Director, had a key for every room in this building. Even for the head honcho's office.

If not you, who else?

As you think back, you reach for your bag. As Head of Science, you had a key for every room in this building - including the head honcho's office, of course.

If not you, who else?

Your fingers glide over the bunch of keys, the metal jingles softly. You find the right key, slide it into the lock and turn it with a gentle click.

Even before you open the door, you hear footsteps behind you. Olivia and the Smiling Critters have arrived. Their movements are cautious, their voices muffled - but that doesn't stop Olivia for long.

"Hey, Y/N," she says, her voice carrying a mixture of nervousness and defiance. "Why did you call Bubba an idiot earlier?"

You pause, your hand on the door. Your gaze does not wander to her, but remains focused on the office. The question hangs in the air until she continues.

"I mean, he was just trying to help. And anyway - the Smiling Critters are trying their best, you know? They're not perfect, but who is? You can't treat them like that all the time."

Behind you, you hear the critters whispering softly, their voices restless. Olivia takes a step forward, her words becoming more urgent.

"Honestly, sometimes I don't think you get it. They're not machines. They're people - or at least they used to be. And you don't always have to be such a cold unsentimental- "

That was too much.

You turn around, and for the first time the group sees something they've never seen before: you, angry. Not really overflowing with anger, but the facial expressions were different.

"The Smiling Critters," you say, your voice cutting and unexpectedly loud, "are children's corpses ported over in fabric covers. Don't you get it, you fucking idiot?"

The words echo through the hallway and everything is silent for a moment. Olivia stares at you, her face frozen, her eyes widening. Behind her, the Critters move closer together, DogDay lowers his gaze, and Kickin almost hides behind Hoppy. Hoppy looks angry, very angry at you.

You take a deep breath, the anger still burning inside you, but you don't let it out any further. Olivia opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

She notices that something is different. Maybe not just in what you've said, but in yourself - a crack in the cold, analytical façade you always present.

You turn back to the door without another word and push it open.

The office of Elliot Ludwig.

You enter, the others stay behind you, unsure whether they should follow you. The door slowly closes behind you, leaving you alone.

You look around. The room is unchanged. The heavy desk, the bookshelves, the strange silence that always reminds you of that conversation.

"Quite simply, Y/N, there's something more important than a death in your family at the moment."

You kept quiet back then. Today, you might have acted differently.

Outside, you hear Olivia and the Critters whispering softly. They embody something you weren't allowed to have back then - family, connection, something human. But you know you can't stop doing what's necessary.

You force your mind to stop thinking about such nonsense and turn your attention back to what's important.

Ludwig's office looks the same as always. The heavy, brown wooden desk dominates the room, surrounded by the same old bookcases and decorations that you have always despised. However, one detail immediately catches your eye: there is a tape on the table, neatly placed in the middle, almost as if it had been left for you.

Your eyes linger on it for a moment, but your gaze quickly moves on. Directly above you, on the wall, hangs the opening of a vent. The angle points downwards, just enough for you to reach it with your GrabPack.

You don't wait a moment. Your movements are precise and efficient. Your arm shoots forward and the GrabPack's gripper grabs the grille. With a quick jerk, you pull it down.

The sound is muffled, but in the silence it echoes loud enough for you to hear faint footsteps behind you - the rest of the group.

You turn around.

There they are. Olivia, as always, has that goofy look on her face, her grin inappropriate and incomprehensible. The others show a mixture of reactions:

DogDay seems neutral, but his eyes are watchful, always intent on keeping an eye on the group. Hoppy's eyes narrow slightly, a trace of suspicion on her face, as always when she looks at you. Kickin is nervous, almost frantic, his feet fidgeting restlessly on the ground.

Crafty looks exhausted, her shoulders slumped, but she's trying not to attract attention. Bobby holds back a little, her hands nervously in front of her face, but her eyes follow your every move. Picky seems distracted, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the room as if she doesn't quite understand the tension.

CatNap is rather unconcerned, but his ears twitch slightly, a sign of his watchful attention.

And all because I called Bubba an idiot.

Olivia. You're sure she's the reason the group didn't panic. She probably calmed them down with her silly, pointless ways. And of course it worked - they're just as stupid as she is.

"Hurry up," you say coldly, your voice emotionless.

You turn around again without waiting for their reactions and enter the vent.

The path through the narrow shafts is not particularly long. Your mind calculates the distance almost automatically: just under 20 meters. You know exactly that it will lead you straight to the Maintenance Closet.

As you exit the vent, you jump lightly to the floor and straighten up. Your eyes immediately scan the room without losing a moment.

The Maintenance Closet is exactly what you expected: an abandoned room surrounded by bare concrete walls. The room exudes neglect - the dust in the air, the corners full of cobwebs, and the sparse lighting that casts everything in a dull, yellowish light.

The floor is covered with scattered objects. Cardboard boxes are piled up against the walls, some still intact, others dented or half-opened. Sheets and papers are scattered carelessly, some crumpled up, others half hidden under furniture.

A heavy shelf stands against the opposite wall, overloaded with tools, spare parts and boxes that seem to have been untouched for so long that they have almost melted into the shelf. A desk in the corner is littered with old tools and a yellowed file.

You look around, your thoughts sort through your surroundings, analyzing everything that could be useful.

You continue to look around the room, your thoughts organized as always, analyzing every detail of your surroundings, calculating every possibility.

Poppy.

She must have gotten through here. The light failure was no coincidence, and her movements - even with her limited speed - fit the scenario perfectly. From her room, she would either have had to go through the ventilation or the corridors. The ventilation is more likely, she is smaller and more agile, and the ventilation offers protection from direct pursuit.

Your mind draws the blueprints of the factory in front of your inner eye. You see the routes, the possible paths.

If she came through the ventilation, then she would have had to go through this room. The Empty Closet is a strategic connection. And at a speed of no more than 3 mph...

Your mind calculates the distance it could have traveled during this time.

Thirty meters.

Poppy is at most thirty meters away from you. Probably moving, but not fast. She knows what she's doing. Her destination is clear: the Game Station. There is no other logical point that is so close and at the same time offers so many options for hiding or maneuvering.

Your eyes linger on the box in the corner that caught your eye earlier. It stands there too neatly, too deliberately placed in this chaotic room. But before you step closer, you hear the group reach the vent.

Their voices echo softly in the room, Olivia, as always, the loudest.

"This place is full of stuff! Do you think there's anything important here?"

You exhale, short and controlled, while your gaze wanders around the room.

"I don't know, but it's definitely really creepy here," DogDay mumbles.

"It's bad air down here," Hoppy adds, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Why is it so cold all of a sudden?" Kickin asks nervously, his wings twitching slightly.

You stand still, the movement of your eyes precise and calm, while you register every little thing in the room. But then something moves next to you.

Olivia.

Of course it's her. She stands right next to you, that stupid, wide grin on her face, like she doesn't have a clue what kind of danger you're in. She stares at you, her eyes almost sparkling with some strange energy.

How could someone like that have worked here?

"Oh! Uh, sorry!" she suddenly shouts as something rattles above you.

Your head snaps up, as does hers. A box falls from the ventilation system, crashes to the floor and stirs up dust. Behind it - hidden in the dark opening - you see her.

Poppy.

The little doll stands up there, her big glass eyes fixed on the group. Her voice rings out, high and childlike, but with a strange calm that doesn't match her size.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying..."

Her gaze glides through the group. First to the Smiling Critters, whose reactions are mixed - DogDay looks familiar, Hoppy watches them attentively, while Kickin nervously takes a step back. Crafty and Bobby stand rigid, almost frozen.

Then her gaze lingers on Olivia, who stares at her with wide eyes and her typical goofy expression. But finally her eyes land on you.

She freezes.

A look of confusion flits across her small face. For a moment, she doesn't seem to know what to say.

And of course, at this very moment, it is Olivia who speaks.

"Ohhh! How cute you are!" She exclaims, her voice exaggeratedly delighted. "How could you have been locked up?"

Poppy says nothing, her big glass eyes keep switching back and forth between you and Olivia. The tension in the room increases noticeably as everyone waits to see what she will say next.

"Ahem. Um, I wanted to thank all of you for freeing me," Poppy finally says, her voice high and unsteady, almost as if she's choosing her words carefully. "I was stuck in there for so long! Thank you. I'd like to pay you back!"

As she speaks, you notice how she deliberately looks at everyone else - except you.

But you know exactly what she wants. Your calculations have long since been completed. Without hesitation, you take a step forward.

Your GrabPack flicks out, a well-aimed shot over her head, before you run straight to the switch. Your other hand shoots the power lever, and with a loud clack, the power is activated.

Poppy moves immediately. She goes to the vent next to her, climbs in and disappears into it. Her voice sounds through the wall, clear and calm.

"There is a train station nearby. It needs a code, and I have it. We're gonna get out of here."

The words echo in the empty room. A moment later she appears again, this time in an opening next to the large vent that leads back into Elliot Ludwig's office.

"As soon as you guys... get on up here! Hmph!"

"Do we really have to go back now?" asks Kickin, his voice full of displeasure.

"Don't be like that," Hoppy replies, her eyes rolling slightly. "We can easily get up to the vent with a robber's ladder."

Without waiting for an answer, the two get down to business. Kickin bends slightly, her hands firmly on the ground, while Hoppy stands on her shoulders. With some effort, she climbs into the vent and begins to pull the other critters up one by one.

Meanwhile, you are still standing downstairs, your gaze fixed on Poppy. Her eyes stare at you unblinkingly, and this time it's not uncertainty but nervousness that's on her face.

Next to you, Olivia breaks the silence. " 'You two know each other?" she asks, her tone curious, almost playful.

You don't answer. Instead, you lift your GrabPack, aim at the holder above the vent and pull yourself upwards in one swift movement.

But the moment you move upwards, Olivia suddenly clings to your arm. Her fingers grip tightly, and without warning she pulls herself up on you as you both enter the vent together.

"Thanks for the cab, boss!" says Olivia with a grin, her voice echoing loud and clear in the confines of the vent.

I should have killed her.

The thought comes and goes, quickly and emotionlessly, as you continue to progress. The vent leads you back to Elliot's office, then on through the upper levels of the factory. The path is no less dangerous than before, and the obstacles pile up.

A hallway whose floor has collapsed brings you to the next problem. The abyss below is deep and dark, and you know without hesitation that a fall here will be fatal.

Olivia, of course, immediately has an idea.

"You could always take someone with you in your GrabPack!" she says with the same carefree energy that always irritates you.

You just think about how incredibly stupid she is. Who returns to that factory without taking their own employee GrabPack with them?

"It's at home," she had said, completely unimpressed.

"That's a good place to be," you replied, your voice as cold as ever.

Of course you won't accept a suggestion from her. You're not mentally retarded. Instead, you choose the longer but safer route for you, Bubba, Crafty and Bobby. They all have a fear of heights, and you see the risk that the pace wouldn't fit due to suboptimal weights.

Olivia, now with your GrabPack, and DogDay persuade CatNap to cling to Olivia as they take the dangerous path. The situation is ridiculous, but they make it.

When you finally arrive, you have a clear view of Poppy.

A room full of locked gates.

Poppy is standing by a large hole in the floor, her posture calm, and she is quietly humming a tune that echoes through the room. But as you approach, she falls silent and slowly turns to face you.

"Listen. I'm going to need you to trust me-"

Her words are abruptly interrupted.

A pink arm shoots out of the hole and grabs Poppy with terrifying speed. Her screams echo through the room as she is dragged into the darkness.

That was Mommy Long Legs, for sure.

None of you stand still. No one but you.

Almost as if on command, the others jump in after them, without time for doubt or discussion.

Are they really that stupid?

Your mind races as you stare fixedly at the hole. You know the danger that lurks down there. Experiment 1222 - a creature of destruction, manipulative and deadly. In one confrontation, it will tear them all apart.

For a moment, you feel something. No frustration, no anger - it's different, strange.

You know what will happen when they meet her down there. They will die. All of them.

An image forms in your mind, unintentional and yet present. The Smiling Critters - creatures that only exist because you made them what they are. They are in this position because you brought them here.

Olivia.

She's here because you kept quiet back then. You didn't tell anyone that the prototype was planning an uprising. Not a single employee. You had thought it irrelevant - unnecessary to waste time.

Even Poppy.

A doll, an experiment. Just like everyone else, trapped in this system that you have helped to build for so long.

Your hand clenches into a fist for a moment, then you let it go again. You jump after it without any further hesitation.

The fall quickly turns into a long, sliding descent. The walls around you fly by, an irregular tunnel of cold metal. The breeze rushes past you, cutting and cold, and for a moment the world seems to stand still.

No sound except the echo of your breaths and the speed of the fall.

Now you are standing here.

"Did you have to take a quick piss up there?" Olivia asks, and you just ignore it.

Directly in front of the locked metal gate of the Game Station.

The surroundings are silent, apart from the quiet hum of the machines coming from somewhere. The massive gate looms in front of you, a monument to isolation that blocks access to the next phase of the factory.

You look around, quickly analyzing the situation and the group. Olivia still has that unnerving grin, as if she thinks this is all an adventure, while DogDay positions himself at her side, alert and focused.

Hoppy and Kickin stand together, both looking tense but ready. Bubba, Crafty, Bobby and CatNap move closer, their eyes wandering between you and the gate, obviously waiting for you to make a move.

"Wait here," you say curtly, without looking at her.

Your steps take you to the left, towards the Power Room. As you move, your eyes briefly meet Olivia's, who is standing there with her typical goofy expression.

"Come with me," you say, your voice as neutral as ever.

Olivia reacts immediately, a wide grin spreading across her face as she leans forward slightly and places a finger on her lower lip. "Uhhh, is something not teen friendly coming up? Or why are we moving away from the critters?"

Her voice carries this exaggeratedly teasing tone, and her eyes sparkle with feigned mischief.

How can an adult human being be so mentally retarded?

You say nothing, just turn away and keep walking as she follows you with quick steps. Her presence behind you is almost palpable, so much so that you have to force yourself to ignore her and focus on the power room.

You enter the Power Room, a small, compact space that seems to hang in the air. The walls are made of raw cement, cracked and cold. Cables hang loosely from the ceiling, some of them wobble slightly when you close the door behind you.

To complete this puzzle.

Your mind works immediately.

You must connect one of their GrabPack hands to the power source on the Left side, so the wall will not break off the wire. Then, they must go to the right side without having the wire hit the left power beam.

Once at the right power beam, they wrap the wire around the beam, then walk to the right beam and do the same. Finally, they go back to the right and shoot their other hand to the inactive power source.

A simple process. Clearly structured. Precise.

"So, boss, what do I have to do?" Olivia's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You sigh softly and point to the left side of the room. "Connect the GrabPack to the energy source on the left. Then go over to the right side without the wire touching the left beam."

She nods eagerly. "Okay, sounds simple enough."

"Then wrap the wire around the right-hand beam. Move on to the next station, do the same, and finally connect the other hand to the inactive energy source."

"All right, boss! This will be a piece of cake." She raises her GrabPack and aims at the energy source.

Your eyes follow her every move. It takes exactly five seconds for her to pull the wire the wrong way, and you hear a loud BZZT as the energy connection is broken.

"Oops."

Of course.

"Wrong," you say curtly. "Once again. Listen and do exactly what I say."

She tries again, slowly this time, and actually manages to attach the wire to the left power source without anything going wrong.

"Now go to the right side without the wire touching the left beam."

"Dude, I can't fly, you know?" She grins at you, lifting one leg in the air as if she's dancing. "Or do you want me to float elegantly, like an angel?"

You ignore her. "Go. Slowly."

She takes a few uncertain steps to the right, lifts the wire almost too high and almost lets it touch the beam. You take a deep breath, but say nothing.

"Wow, Dude, you're staring so intensely. Am I impressive?"

"No."

"Ouch." She laughs and wraps the wire around the right beam.

The rest of the process is no better. She manages to undo the wire three times, bumps into the walls and at one point even mutters, "Maybe I'd be better if you cheered me on. Like, 'Go, Olivia, you're the best!"

"I don't waste time with things like that."

She rolls her eyes, but continues to grin. "You really are the perfect motivational coach, genius."

Five minutes pass, during which your patience reaches the limits of its endurance. But in the end, it finally succeeds. The energy connection is activated and the puzzle is complete.

"I did it!" she exclaims triumphantly. "Well, well, Y/N, I'm a natural after all."

You just look at her, your face remains expressionless as always. Five minutes. For a puzzle that should have taken ten seconds.

Without another word, you make your way back to the others. Olivia walks beside you, and meanwhile she mutters once: "You must have been staring at me while I was bent over the beam."

You give her a quick glance. She's wearing a grin that reminds you of a cat, smug and playful. Without reacting, you delete the comment from your mind.

You walk on, down a long corridor that leads to another locked gate. But something is different.

The ceiling.

It is unusually high and so dark that you cannot see through it. Your eyes linger on it for a moment while your mind calculates the possibilities.

Mommy Long Legs.

The thought is unavoidable. Here, in this height and darkness, she could attack you without you seeing her first. Her ability to stretch out and disappear into the darkness makes this corridor her perfect hunting ground.

Olivia doesn't notice anything. She shoots the scanner on the door in front of you with the red hand of her GrabPack to unlock it.

But before the hand touches the scanner, it happens.

A pink arm shoots out of the darkness above you, grabs your hand and pulls it upwards.

Mommy Long Legs: "gasp New playmates! And even the Smiling Critters!"

Her arm pulls up and the cable between the GrabPack and her hand snaps with a loud bang. Mommy Long Legs - the culprit - glides down from the darkness. Her long limbs seem unnatural and grotesque, and she moves with an elegance that seems uncanny.

"It's been so long..."

Her right hand lowers, and in her grip she holds Poppy hostage. Webbing covers Poppy's mouth, preventing her from speaking, but her eyes are wide open, fixing on you - pleadingly.

"Isn't this exciting, Poppy? Very exciting, Mommy! Mommy heard that Ms. Poppy was going to just give you the train code to escape. Now how is that fun? Instead, why don't we make a game out of it? The Game Station is still working. It will be just like old times."

Her voice changes again, she imitates Poppy in a childlike way:

"And if you win all three games, I'll give you the train code! Mommy loves that idea, Poppy! Ooo, you're going to have so much fun. Head to Musical Memory and Mommy will get things started. Obey the rules, or I'll tear you apart, and eat your insides while you're still alive."

An eerie laugh erupts from her as she moves back into the darkness. But before she disappears completely, she stops for a moment.

Her eyes glide over the group and linger on you.

Her gaze changes.

Her confident, mocking expression becomes something else - terror.

"What... What are you doing here?"

You don't answer. Your empty, cold eyes remain fixed on her.

"You... How did you survive? Impossible... You should be dead-!"

Your voice cuts through the silence, calm and razor-sharp: "Just like your son."

Dead silence.

Mommy Long Legs' eyes widen and she freezes.

"What... WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

Her angry roar fills the room as she slides lower, her arms spread out menacingly. The others instinctively move behind you, even Poppy moves her eyes to you, her nervousness unmistakable.

But you don't move. No fear, no nervousness, just the same stoic manner that always accompanies you.

"I said, 'Just like your son'. Now go, before your game ends like your failed pregnancy."

The words are like poison.

Olivia pulls on your arm, trying to get you to shut up, while Poppy looks at you with a look that almost begs you to stop.

Mommy Long Legs trembles, her rage palpable, but she slowly retreats. With a final scream, she disappears into the darkness again.

With a loud click, the massive gate to the Game Station opens. You stride forward without hesitation, the others follow you, more hesitantly, but full of admiration - or fear.

"Damn!" Kickin breaks the silence with a triumphant grin. "He totally showed her!"

"But... what did he mean by 'failed pregnancy'?" asks CatNap, visibly irritated as she eyes you suspiciously.

"Who cares!" Kickin waves it off. "He dissed her and she knew she didn't stand a chance."

You turn around. Some of the group, like Bubba and Crafty, seem almost amused, maybe even a little relieved. But Olivia looks at you like you've just been a shining knight who rescued her cat from a tree - that admiring mixture of naivety and disbelief that almost makes you nervous.

This will take you to the Game Station.

The Game Station is a huge underground facility, completely filled with artificial light, as no natural light could ever penetrate here. Someone had once suggested in an official proposal that fake windows be installed here to give the children an illusion of daylight - an attempt to protect their mental health. But as it is now, the station feels oppressively artificial, despite the bright colors that adorn the walls and play equipment.

The walls are painted in a colorful mix of red, yellow and blue. There are play structures everywhere: slides, circular climbing frames and spinning play wheels that look like remnants from a happier time long gone. In the center, a massive train sits enthroned beneath a bright logo that proclaims "Game Station" in playful letters.

An eerie contrast: while the play structures are supposed to look like a paradise for children, the place has an aura of abandonment - as if the lights went out here a long time ago and no one had the courage to return.

After you have passed through the station, you will finally reach the train. A glowing console will prompt you to enter a code to activate it.

"Uhhhhh..." Olivia deliberately drags out the word and looks at you questioningly. "What's the code so we can leave?"

You reply in your usual matter-of-fact tone: "We have to play Musical Memory, Wack-a-Wuggy and Statues first to get the full code."

Olivia grimaces. "Can't we just... guess?" She grins mischievously. "And we can always rescue Poppy later." The grin widens, almost like that of a cat that has just discovered a new toy.

"That's not possible," you say matter-of-factly. "The third code contains a randomly generated element - a sequence of four digits. If you consider that we have to type them in and every wrong entry costs us five seconds of delay, it would be inefficient. It makes more sense to play the games."

"But I don't want to play by the rules!" Olivia starts to pout like a child. For a moment, it looks like she's actually going to throw herself on the floor like a toddler in the supermarket.

You sigh audibly before shaking your head. "By 'actually' do you mean...?" Olivia raises an eyebrow and looks at you challengingly. "You have a shortcut that gets us straight through?"

"The solution is right in front of you," you reply dryly.

For a moment, Olivia actually seems to think you're pointing at something in the room and turns around, searching. Bubba slaps his forehead in resignation, while Bobby snorts in embarrassment.

"Ahhhhh..." Olivia's expression brightens as the penny drops. "You're the solution!"

"The others stay here," you say firmly. "You and I will get the codes."

"But...!" Bubba starts, but you interrupt him. "If you come along, it'll only be more dangerous. Besides, you're blocking the games."

With a quick step, you turn away and walk off. Olivia follows you with a broad grin as she flutters after you.

"What a gorgeous genius you are! "

---

Let's go! Y/N even messes with Mommy Long Legs, and there's nothing she can do about it. But what do you think he meant by "failed pregnancy"? I'm happy to finally publish another chapter for this story. Now the game is really starting, and character development for Y/N is also getting underway - in case that wasn't already clear. For the Poppy Playtime stories, however, I'm taking a short break (which means I'm working less on them and concentrating more on my Arcane story). There'll be a new chapter for Poppy Playtime at the end of January, and I'll pick up right where I left off - including some of my other stories. Thanks to everyone for reading, and happy new year! 🎉

[xinganhao]

not for sale 💳 mingyu x reader. (1)

✉︎ @maplegyu asked me if she could abuse her moot privileges for this smau, and ??? when was i ever going to say 'no' to my favorite gyuldaengie! her prompt: celebrity!mingyu x small business owner!reader would be cute AF— based on this (i.e. mingyu selling out a regnie pudding).

check out 🛒 not for sale's masterlist.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ not for sale by enhypen. love is growing by plastic plastic. 711 by toneejay. she wants me (to be loved) by the happy fits. like or like like by miniature tigers. like the movies by laufey. do you wanna do nothing with me? by lawrence. wall st by boys go to jupiter.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )�� ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere HSR Men Memes

I had to make some for the HSR men too(^з^)-☆

Yandere HSR men memes part 2

Yandere genshin men memes

I have made true art＼(^o^)／

Do not copy my ideas. Thank you

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

this had me thinking about katsuki and his ability to turn things that can be viewed as sexual into the total opposite

like you guys are sucking faces and he’s leaving hickies on you but it’s not because he’s horny

instead, it’s because those forms of physical affection are so much more intense, and intensely is the only way katsuki knows how to show his love for you

wait...CUS YOU ATE DOWNNNNN

i spent like five minutes just kickin my feet at this bc omg???? you're so real.

katsuki is such an intense person and of course he's gonna bring that over to the relationship because he does not do anything without giving it his all. and you make him feel so intensely that he just has to be 10000000 times more intense than usual , ya dig ????

so he bites your lip when you're making out n sucking faces and he's basically crushing you with how tight he's holding you because he lowk hopes you won't realise how hard and fast his heart is beating. and he's so mushy n in love that the only way he can show much he cares is to put semi permanent lil marks on your skin, it's like the physical proof of how much he cares,,ya know??

and i feel at first he'll feel a lil bad cus its a heat of the moment typa thing and he's just SOOOO embarrassed i just know 😭 afterwards he'll poke at them n mumble a quiet little "doesn't hurt right.. ?" scanning along your face super intensely to see if you're actually not in pain n then he"ll mumble an uber quiet lil "m'sorry.." into your shoulder,,the stinky </3`

he's still just a lil embarrassed about it but you don't mind cus you get it and as long as you don't mind he's doin it !!! and honestly if you put some on him he'll be giddy about it on the low but he'll act like he's unfazed,,, which doesn't work cus he's fuckin' beet red.💀 when he gets a look at them alone tho he smiles just a little bit <3

(like thats also why like katsuki being a biter not only cus hes a little shit but also because you make him feel so much and he sucks at saying it so he shows it by just chomping on you. <33)

anyways this is so real and true and you're a genius. gonna go squeal into my pillow now.

[satoruxx]

stubble toji but u squeal when he eats u out

had to take a minute to breath nonnie bc oh my god

stubble toji is insufferable with it too, because he knows how you normally react when he's pressing the rough texture of his jaw against your skin. god knows he'll take advantage of it in every possible situation.

taunts like crazy, saying things like "what's wrong, doll? still hate the feelin'?” even as his hands grip your thighs and spread them apart. you scoff, cheeks practically on fire as you look down at his smug grin.

"quit teasing, toji."

he just chuckles throatily, chin brushing over the skin of your inner thigh just barely, and he mentally notes the way you shiver at the feeling.

toji already drives himself crazy when he eats you out, mostly because the choked moans and whines that he can pull from you with a skillful flick of his tongue has his pride singing.

but when you squeal in between your gasps, caught off guard by the rough sensation in between his licks—that is a different high all together.

he groans against your skin when you do, stubble pressing deep against it as he suckles at your clit eagerly.

the sound, quite literally, goes straight to your core.

“ah fuck baby, that’s it,” he grunts, fingers tightening around your thighs in a way you know will leave marks. he deliberately presses his jaw into you when he can, eyes hooded as he hears the sound it pulls from you. “feel good, huh?”

“uh huh—” you nod eagerly, unable to stop your hips from bucking into his tongue as he teases your clit and laps up your juices. “so good.”

an evil smirk as he pulls back, chin glistening and eyes satisfied. “thought you always whine about how my stubble is too scratchy.”

“it is,” you huff—adamant. “you’re always tormenting me with it.”

“don’t hear you complaining now,” he murmurs—smug. his lips find your clit again, sucking and licking until your vision goes hazy. “still want me to shave?”

you’ve never said no quicker in your life.

[cashiedoodles]

Just some royal shuggy

Inspired by this painting below

[luvvyouforever]

carpenter!joel miller x lumberjack!logan howlett

[ackermans-angel]

Collegeboy!spencer who you meet in your first year of college, even though he’s already been there two years and almost has a second PhD.

Collegeboy!spencer who you sit next to in your psychology class because you were late the first day, and it was the only seat left

Collegeboy!spencer who reads incredibly fast. When the professor gives you a few minutes to read the first pages of the next chapter you’ll be going over, you look over to your right and have to do a double take. The guy next to you drags his finger down the center of each page, it appears to be him just skimming the words, but it is done very seriously and swiftly.

“There’s no way you can actually read that fast” you say, in disbelief.

He looks up at you and says, “Our conscious minds can process 16 bits of information per second. Our unconscious, however, can process 11million”.

There was an awkward pause. You tilt you head at him still confused.

“Yes I- I can actually read that fast”

You giggle at that and smile. “Okay, boy genius” you say and then go back to reading. He was strange and It sounded like he was reading that straight from a book but you believed him.

Collegeboy!spencer who doesn’t know whether you were teasing him or being genuine, but he smiles none the less.

Collegeboy!spencer who’s glasses fall down his nose as he concentrates on the words he’s writing on his laptop. Only for him to push them back up on the bridge of his nose with his long fingers.

Collegeboy!spencer who you start to develop a small crush on as you sneak glances at him for weeks, but it’s silly because you don’t even know his name.

Collegeboy!spencer who thinks you’re just as pretty, but doesn’t think he stands a chance with a girl like you.

Collegeboy!spencer who usually does group assignments alone, but when the professor mentions a partner research paper, you see this as your opportunity to get to know the mysterious smart guy next to you.

“So what you say, boy genius, you wanna work together?” You ask.

He’s caught off guard, and is a little dumbfounded before he replies. “Oh, yeah uh, s-sure. I’d like that”

You find his shyness endearing as you proceed to introduce yourself. “Oh, by the way I’m y/n”

He gives you tiny smile as he pushes some of his hair out of his face. “I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid”

[suiana]

(yandere! genius x gn reader)

"For someone so smart you are acting unusually stupid right now."

He grits his teeth, stalking towards you as you unconsciously take a step back.

"Why are you doing this to yourself? You need me."

He hisses at you, eyebrows furrowing as he folds his arms. You only stare back, lips pulled into a thin line as you refuse to speak to the person you once considered your friend.

How did it even get to this? You were only joking around when you told him that you wanted to date that cute bakery boy! How were you supposed to know that he had feelings for you? That he would do anything for your love?

"Come on. You know that bug wouldn't even match half of your intelligence."

He mutters, looking at you with lovesick eyes as you continue to defy his wishes. Why wouldn't you give into him already? It's clearly the best and most intelligent outcome! He knows this. You know this. So why are you making such a foolish mistake?

Is it because of...

"Hah, don't tell me you're actually throwing away everything to be with that plebian!"

He insults, eye twitching as he resists the urge to hurl insults at you. Come on! Just give in already! Why are you making this so much harder for yourself?

"He's an idiot! He will never match up to our levels of intelligence. Ever. Why are you tainting your bloodline by choosing him?"

"It was a joke! I don't actually like him!"

You yell, looking behind your shoulder for a possible exit. There was the window but the fall is two stories and you don't want to risk breaking your ankle. And there was also the door... But would you make it in time?

"Then why? Why are you refusing me? You know I'm the only one for you. The only one worthy of you."

He spits, face relaxing slightly at your reassurance that your crush was just a joke. However he can't help but grow agitated again at your antsy behavior. Are you scared of him? You keep looking at the door... Are you trying to leave?

"I locked the door. You can't run. Now answer my question."

He mumbles, taking large strides over to you as his patience wears thin. He's so glad he took precautions.

"What? You locked me in?! How-"

"Because I need you to understand that only I can stand as your equal! You hear me? Me. And only me."

He yells, trapping you against the wall as your chances of escape dwindle near zero. You feel your heart thudding in your chest, mind racing as you stare into his obsessive eyes.

"Only I am worthy of you, just as only you are worthy of me. No one else can compare with us."

He mumbles, calming down slightly as he invades your personal space. Your breath hitches as he stares down at you with sharp eyes. They are full of obsession, eyes belonging to someone completely unfamiliar to you. Dread fills your body as he mumbles his next statement, sending shivers down your spine at his lovesick tone.

"And I will make you understand why that is so."

[vannabanana212]

something about lesbians with hand tattoos…

[shotmrmiller]

pretend boyfriend but it's in a time where roads are nothing more than muddy tracks, making travel slow and cumbersome. the town's buildings are a mix of weathered wood and crumbling brick, faded paint peeling off their facades. wanted posters, yellow and tattered, are plastered on every available surface, faces of outlaws and fugitives who roam the countryside depicted in greyish ink.

the townsfolk go about their lives with a wary eye, and you go about yours with a sharp one, in search of opportunity: a cowboy too drunk off his wits to know his right from his left. the humble borough of blackthorn doesn't need any more working girls, no more ladies with hair down to their corseted waists beautifying the arms of both bounty hunters and farm hands alike.

that's fine, you reckon. you've always had a knack for survival. your deft fingers have made a living out of slipping into pockets and relieving men of their hard earned coin pouches when they lose themselves in drink and laughter. its not an easier life than that of the ladies in the saloon but it's yours, and you've learned to navigate it with equal cunning and charm.

but as people say, anything that can go wrong, will and tonight nothing seems to go right for you. just as you'd been slipping the stolen bills from your latest mark in between the swell of your breasts, he stirs from his drunken sleep, bedsheet tangled in his spurs as he struggles to rise onto unsteady feet. his movements are sluggish, muddy brown eyes blinking against the dim light of the quaint room.

you don't wait for him to ask any inane questions, you know when you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. you run out the door on bare feet, fisting the rough fabric of your dress to lift it above your ankles as you barrel down the stairs.

your shoulders ache from bumping into patrons as you try to quickly weave your way toward the door, your breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps. the saloon is a blur or faces and noise, the jaunty tune coming from the piano as fast paced as the galloping of your heart.

just as you reach the swinging doors, you glance outside through the dusty window panes and see someone right across the street in the patio of the drugstore.

the star on his chest gleaming even in the flickering light of the shop is distinctive. your heart sinks like a stone dropped into a well, the weight of the situation leaden over your puffed shoulders.

but you haven't made it this far while skirting around law and order without a sharp mind. your thoughts swirl in your mind as you run through options. a horse loosely tied to the hitching post out front, sleeping roll behind the saddle. you could take it but risk getting roped off by someone. slipping out the windows would draw too much attention. using the back door near the kitchen would have the owner on your arse.

shit. shit-

then you spot him. sitting alone at a table is a hulking, beast of a man. (his broad shoulders and burly frame makes him resemble more mountain than man tbh.) a small shot glass rests on the scratched surface before him, the only delicate item in his vicinity. the wide-brimmed hat he wears casts a shadow over his face but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. maybe that's why even the other patrons have given him a wide berth. (the knotted scar that runs from the corner of his cheek pulling his lips into a permanent, twisted sneer makes the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end.)

desperation fuels your next move.

your hand trembles when you place it on the the exposed skin of his forearm that's covered in a fine layer of grime, as does your voice when you speak.

"hey-" you don't get to finish your sentence, feeling the words crumble into ash on your tongue when you realize you're out of time. the drunken idiot from upstairs is storming straight towards you, his nostrils flared, white etched on his knuckles. panic surges through you and so you move.

coming to stand behind the seated stranger, your arms cradle his large head, clammy palms flat on the sweat stained fabric of his union shirt. his body tenses under your touch, muscles cooling like a spring, but you muster all the bravado you can.

"if ya got a problem with me," your voice is steady despite the fear that's settled at the base of your spine, "take it up with my husband."

the drunk comes to an abrupt halt, his anger momentarily replaced by confusion, uncertainty, as he glances between you and the human(?) shield you're clinging to.

the room has fallen silent, all eyes on the unfolding drama. they watch with bated breaths, even the bartender had paused mid-polish, his hand frozen on the glass.

the man wavers, his resolve crumbling like freshly tilled dirt before you. but the final nail in the coffin is when your 'husband' grabs onto your arm and leads you to sit onto his lap, both your legs fitting on top of his one, feeling the tarnished buckle of his leather belt even through the couple of layers of your dress on your arsecheek, his arm cinching tightly around your waist.

his skin feels rough, scarred, yet warm, beneath your hand. (embarrassing that this surprises you.)

you can feel his voice vibrate from his chest and sink into your bones when he aids you in this mess you've created. "ya 'eard m'wife. piss off 'fore i make you."

his mouth twists into an ugly line but concedes defeat, telling your 'husband' to "keep his wh-wife on a tighter leash unless she's keen on ending up on a missing poster alongside the wanted ones."

when you turn in his lap to look outside the window, watching the drunk unsteadily get on his horse and leave, you give the man you're on a muted thanks and move to get up only-

the arm around your waist feels more like an iron band. you're can't get up. you can't leave. your feet don't even touch the wooden floorboards of the saloon. you turn your wide eyes toward him, lips parted in surprise.

he doesn't seem as surprised as you.

"wha'? thought you could jus' up and go 'bout your way?"

you open your mouth wider, to scream maybe, you aren't sure but he cuts you off with a sharp suck of his teeth.

"make trouble and there will be trouble. i'll drag your pretty arse to the sheriffs office by the hair."

the realization of what he is keeps you utterly frozen in place, any fight you'd had bleeding out of you.

a bloody bounty hunter. no wonder everyone had kept their distance.

"i'm gonna be finishin' this bottle and you'll be a good wife and draw me a bath in our hotel room."

(he plucks the dirty money from where you'd kept it and tosses it on the bar top, carrying you straight to where he'd hitched his horse and plops you in front, your back to his barrel of a chest. "youll bathe with me, gotta have you clean for our consummation.")

[thegeniusofplaytimeco]

Chapter 13: Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Summary:

It begins, you as the Doctor who created the experiments VS The Experiments! But the chapter starts slowly, a little background lore, inner monologues and explanations of plot points that may have been left open. Your unmatched mind, your way of thinking that is ahead of every person on this planet and the challenge that comes with it. But in all these thoughts, the situation seems even more surreal on the hand: While you are standing here, Huggy Wuggy is waiting just a few meters away from you, waiting to attack.

Notes:

This story hasn't gotten an update in a damn long time! I'm sorry to everyone, but I hope you know that I have several stories going on. It's quite hard to keep moving from one character to another because all my characters are so damn different. A child plagued by terror. A teenager who suddenly discovers his superpower. A spy who spies on a foreign world. And of course the genius, who is on a completely different path, far from the one that a person has ever walked. Okay, enough talk! Enjoy reading and leave kudos and a comment! wc: 5.5 k

---

Panic.

Normally something you didn't know. Normal people knew it, but you didn't.

Arguments at home, with parents or siblings. Stress at work, that oppressed feeling in your stomach, and the knowledge that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Not being able to keep to a time slot and then having to apologize to someone else for it. Having once tried to take responsibility, but now having to live with the consequences and failure.

You had it easy, honestly. That was always down to two things.

You were absolutely emotionless, Stoic, and always reacted and lived with logic. All things had a reason, some due to human stupidity, some due to science, and other things could happen absolutely by chance. You never believed in things like luck, chance exists, is mathematically verifiable and fitted more into your rational way of thinking.

The second point is even simpler than your always thinking too much way of thinking: you are simply better. You don't need stress, neither in life nor at work. People create stressful situations, so you distance yourself from them as much as possible or give them orders, because if you want something to be good, you have to do it, after all, nobody else is even remotely on your level.

But there it was again: your life had absolutely no reason to be lived. Others would probably have killed themselves in your skin within the first few days. A life that consisted of numbers, dates and absolutely nothing else. Feelings were secondary; in your opinion, you only acted on them if you were either an idiot or completely without a plan.

It may sound edgy to most people, but it didn't matter to you whether you died alone or not. In the end, whether you die alone or with others, absolutely nothing changes in the result. You didn't care what other people thought about you, to you everyone was worth less than you anyway.

You were called a genius, what other person had such an acronym? You were at the top, no, you are the top. There will never be anyone who can even begin to think as far as you. You've always been a thousand steps ahead, when you do something; say something; plan something: it was perfect. It would probably take other people years to understand a single move you make.

That's why feelings were of secondary importance to you, if at all. You can always feel, at least normal people can, but thinking and knowledge were better. Being able to assess others, write reports, solve complicated equations and formulas that took others years to do, that was your field. The world can be explained with the help of numbers, which you saw everywhere in your everyday life.

But in this whole world, there were only an incredible few people who existed in your eyes.

Once there were your parents, without them you wouldn't have been born. Thanks to cell division during sex, you had the incredible misfortune of being born. You were a fairly quiet child, but the costs from your birth to the age of seven were 310,754 dollars. Of course, you weren't able to write things down as a small child, i.e. the costs, but at seven you started to do so and estimated approximately how much you cost, based on your bank statements.

Then your brother, Rin. United by a bond that neither your parents nor anyone else would understand. Brothers who carried the same blood and yet were so different, and the rarest of things, who could still stand each other. You played soccer together on the school team, and you had always promised Rin that one day you would make it big and earn so much that you wouldn't be able to spend it.

That's how it would have turned out if you hadn't done the year abroad and...

Doesn't matter.

And then there he was: Elliot Ludwig. Probably the only person who made you think twice before you said something. Elliot was dangerous, and you were sure you were the only one who knew that.

A person who can look millions of people in the eye, give their children a smile, and at the same time has children's corpses in the basement and turns them into toys.  

However, you or Harley Sawyer carried out the operations.

So who was really the monster?

All in all, you could say that your life is a tale of woe, with a protagonist who you neither know whether he wants to be the main character, nor whether he feels anything at all or wants to live.

In your opinion, life, birth to death, was an absolute waste. A genius like you was absolutely wrong at that time. Like someone trying to explain colors to a blind man, you wandered from place to place to gain knowledge, to satisfy your hunger for information and to become something at the same time.

And that's how you ended up here: Playtime Co.

A company that was not known to you for its many toys, but for the scientific situation that absolutely destroyed it. Rising electricity prices, sales figures not as high as before, and reports of employees disappearing. You had a rough idea of what was happening there, and by simple addition and logic you had an idea of how it could be done much better.

That was the birth of genius.

The previous head doctor at the hospital, who was described by others as a miracle, finally found his place in the Emotional and Dark World. A genius who worked directly under the boss, ran the labs, and even people like Harley Sawyer were subordinate to him. Truly the smartest and best employee Playtime Co would ever have.

Thinking back to work always made you think of your mother. How she used to tell you and your brother that you needed a "good job", "where you don't break yourself". If only she knew what you've done, how many bodies you've destroyed and turned into damned monsters and deformities.

Percentage-wise, you had to think about your mother more often than anything else. Her voice, somewhere in the back of your emotionless, cold and rational mind. It was as if Playtime Co was the evil that drew you to the deeds, and then there was your mother, who always believed that you weren't really the way you acted. On top of that, you had always seen how your mother took care of everyone in the family, but they always left her alone.

It was unfair. But that was life. That's why you left out feelings, thoughts and everything else that made a mere mortal. There were enough other idiots who thought like that, and as long as you thought perfectly and always knew what was coming, you were ahead of every fucking person on this filthy planet.

Your life was one big pile of complicated garbage, but it doesn't matter anyway. Sooner or later everyone dies, whether you were famous, maybe made it into the history books or whatever, in the end it doesn't matter anyway.

Because all Humans will someday Meet with an Accident or Disease and Die, Without Exception.

All these thoughts, all this knowledge, the knowledge that you would die anyway, made every day feel like the same day. It didn't really matter, every day was just another hand on the clock that slowly pointed to your inevitable death. But death was just as normal to you as life. You never understood why people were afraid of it and didn't just accept it.

You were a solution in search of a problem

"A heart full of sentimentality is dangerous"

Was it something you told yourself or something that was drummed into you?

So what, and what difference does it make now, especially in this situation:

You here, right next to Olivia, in front of the gate where in the infinite darkness Huggy Wuggy is waiting to tear you apart. The subtle smell of toxic enzymes that only your nose can detect is still buzzing in the air as a sign, a warning.

"I think I peed my pants." Olivia says, standing to your left as your two pairs of eyes waver on the colorful gate of the Make-A-Friend room in front of you.

What a fucking idiot.

She was already annoying now, in a situation like this you had to think quickly, which isn't a problem for you, but now it's different. Not only were the Smilling Critters lined up behind the two of you, desperately lining up, but this woman was here too.

There are more variables than you thought, and that causes problems.

Huggy will wait there in front until someone moves into his territory. He will either come out slowly, staggering after his prey, or run. If he runs after it slowly, the adrenaline kicks in, so the meat gets better and he'd rather have it that way.

If he runs, we have absolutely no chance, so we're lucky he won't run. No, it's not luck, I'm starting to sound like that Olivia, that idiot. It's simply the result of Huggys eating habits, nothing more.

Also, if he steps any further into the main room and the hallway, the alarm will go off anyway. That means both of the vents in this room will open, and that will take us into the Conveyor Belt System. But...

You glance slightly to your left, catching sight of Olivia still staring into the darkness, wearing a nervous smile. Your second, important glance goes to the door to the right of the machine, the vent entrance.

Will the critters and that idiot Olivia manage to follow me in the Belt System? Huggy will definitely chase us, and he fits crouched in the ventilation shaft. But with an average speed of 5kmh and the fact that the critters will block each other and panic, it will be difficult to get everyone through easily.

So all the variables have to be right, and we have to unwind Huggy in the Storage Bay, otherwise everyone dies. If everyone dies, no one gets what they want and it's all for nothing. With ten people we'll definitely have problems in the later systems, and in the puzzles with my GrabPack this 'Olivia' will get on my nerves.

In your head, hundreds, thousands of thoughts go through a process that would even make natural selection look bad. Every conceivable possibility, every outcome and every possible person with all their characteristics goes around from the back of your head to reality.

It all happens in seconds, fractions of a second, and the others don't even notice your gaze moving across the room in that brief moment. All the variables were set up correctly, you've rearranged the equation of your survival so many times in your mind that everything will work out. But in the end, everyone but you in this room was just a variable, given a letter by thousands in your head.

They are just variables, nothing more.

"When I tell you to run, you do it." You say, a stoic tone of voice and seriousness that has always lingered in your voice. With that, you slowly take steps forward, into the hallway, aiming to set foot in the darkness where Huggy lingers.

You don't even listen to the words that fall behind you, neither Oliva's nor DogDay's or Hoppy's shouting anything at you. You know they heard what you said, even if they didn't, Oliva did, and that's enough for you. As you walk slowly towards them, you hear the voices behind you that you had intended to block out.

"What's he doing?"

"can't you see that Kickin! He's going to fight the monster now!"

"What nonsense are you two talking about? Huggy is bigger than all of us by far, at least physically." Bubba interrupts, with his head up and his eyes glued to your back.

"Depends on what size we're talking about..." Olivia interjects, with a hand in her hair to comb it back, and a big nervous grin directed at the critters.

"What?" Bubba asks quickly, seemingly not understanding the perverse and rather stupid joke Olivia was about to make.

"Nothing." Olivia says quickly, and a feeling spreads, creating even more nervousness. She hopes Bubba won't ask you later about her joke and what you might say to her.

"But Y/N just said that we should run, didn't he?" DogDay now asks, standing behind CatNap and hugging him from behind, looking around the group.

"Wait...you really trust him?" Now Olivia says, and her voice suddenly becomes serious.

"What do you mean?" Not taking a second, Bubba immediately jumped at the question and put both arms in front of his chest. Bobby, standing next to him, turns to her as well and taps Crafty on the shoulder, causing her to stop shaking.

With that, the rest of the Smilling Critters turned to Olivia, her question arousing everyone's interest.

"So...you know who he is, right?"

That was absolute silence for the time being. Everyone, even Olivia, turns in your direction. While you are already many meters away and in the bright hallway, just a few steps away from the darkness, you think again.

I don't have to run into the darkness, according to the blueprint of this hallway there should be a motion sensor here. But to activate it, Huggy has to walk past it, throwing something won't help, because the sensor has to be activated for several seconds. Only Huggy can do this when he sees me again and needs a few seconds to realize it.

You realize it, a fine human instinct that you had already developed before: You are being watched. The eyes that meet your back, see you standing there with your hair, your black coat, the GrabPack and backpack underneath.

So you turn around and your theory is confirmed. New pairs of eyes stare straight at you, but they don't disappear. You don't make a gesture, you told them what you were going to do and that they had to run, so now you try the last three steps.

"You've heard his title here at the company, haven't you?" Olivia whispers down to the Smilling Critters, which made absolutely no sense because Two was the same size as her. All the Critters formed a circle, Olivia also forming a compartment, and with her head slightly bowed she tells her thoughts into the group. "The genius."

"Yeah..." Bubba remarks, standing directly opposite her in a circle next to Bobby and Crafty. He wags his trunk slightly, looks around the group quickly and continues to answer. "He's the smartest, isn't he?"

With that, Olivia slaps a hand against her forehead and looks hopelessly at the group. There's a conflict going on inside her as to whether she should really tell them the truth, the whole truth. She is quite sure, which she hasn't often been in life, that you had already told them what you had done here.

"He worked above Harley Sawyer a..." Her face, to the shock of the others, turns serious. The previously humorous, take-nothing-seriously woman suddenly spoke in a serious and sentimental voice, and the critters listen. "Really, really bad person."

All eyes are on you as you walk slowly into the darkness.

Step number 1: The darkness is cooler than the Great Make-A-Friend Room, you notice that immediately. Your legs slow down a little, your shoulders rise slightly and you know it's getting serious.

"He has done things that I am certainly not allowed to talk about with you children."

Step Two: Your eyes adjust to the darkness after just a few seconds of exposure. You see the Long Hallway in front of you, dark and smeared with blood everywhere, and then there is this huge figure in front of you.

"I can tell you though, if there's one person the world really hates, it's definitely Y/N. Probably the same the other way around, you've often heard that everyone is dirt to him, the only one from the company who could talk to him on a level was Mr. Ludwig."

Step number three: It was no longer a step. You stand still, deathly still and with an upturned gaze at the experiment that just stood before you. Absolutely nothing has changed in your face, the stoic look that seems almost bored, the stiff posture as it has always been, and the mind that has already thought of everything.

"I can't believe he really wants to bring you here, I don't know what for anyway, probably just to clear his conscience. But I don't think someone like him can sleep at all, with all the things he's done."

With that, you suddenly sprint back, which none of the others seem to have expected. Their faces are indescribable, but they change directly to terror and panic when they see the giant Huggy Wuggy behind you.

You don't even say anything, you don't even run, even though the alarm is now sounding.

"WHAT THE?!"

"THERE HE IS! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!"

"BUT WHERE TO?"

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!"

The alarm is quieter than you thought, and the red lights don't seem to be working either. But that's all secondary, your eyes land on the vent next to the machine, which was now open.

"HEY Y/N?! WHAT'S THE PLAN?!"

You turn around, and the sight burns itself into your mind.

She, Olivia, standing straight in her white T-shirt and black jeans, and Huggy slowly approaching behind her. What exactly was it in that moment that burned itself into your mind? Was it her stupidity, why she didn't just follow you with the critters and finally go into the vent as agreed? Or, was it the fact that she somehow managed to look flawless in this, for the others, panic-stricken situation?

"That's the plan!" You shout, even though normally you would have just gone ahead and left the others to their fate.

"THIS IS A FUCKING SHIT PLAN!" She shouts back, or rather screams. Huggy's footsteps become more and more present, and with that, the critters and Olivia finally run over to you and quickly line up in front of the vent.

"HEY DON'T PUSH ME!"

"I DIDN'T!"

"THE GIANT THING IS GETTING CLOSER AND CLOSER!"

You climb onto the conveyor belt, enter the vent and start the chase. Diligently behind you are the others, while Olivia quickly jumps in, the critters all go one after the other, still completely panicked, but no matter. You waste no time, feel the bag on your back rattle and quickly run off.

"HEY Y/N WAIT!" Olivia shouts behind you, and to the shock of the others, you stop for a second to see what's going on. Crafty has apparently fallen down, not expecting the conveyor belt to still move slightly. "COME ON! WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE FAST!"

It starts with the slamming down of the vent opening where you were standing a few seconds ago.

Panicked footsteps, thick air and a strong smell of terror in the air. You all run as a group through the Conveyor Belt System, where you have no problem keeping the perfect pace at the front, while some at the back are already slowing down.

"DAMN! HOW MUCH LONGER?!" Olivia yells as she catches her breath and keeps her eyes on your back. Her pink backpack rattles on her back, her permanent grin gone and replaced with a panic face. "I SHOULDN'T HAVE SKIPPED GYM CLASS!"

Left, right, straight ahead, right, straight ahead, left, down, straight ahead, then turn back and just keep walking, then left again and out to the right, which will take you to Storage Bay.

Although most of the paths have not yet been taken, you were already far ahead in your thoughts. Thanks to the blueprints, of which there were over 60, you know exactly where to go, which paths are a 'trap' and how to get directly to Storage Bay, the room you thought was the most logical place to go.

"DAMN THERE'S HUGGY!"

You turn left again, and the others need several seconds to keep up with you.

"HOW ARE YOU SO FAST?! HEY! SHIFT DOWN A GEAR NOW! THIS IS NOT THE OLYMPICS!""

She's so damn stupid.

For a moment, an incredibly brief moment that only good eyes could see, you turn your neck minimally and have a good view to the rear. Olivia and the others can barely keep up with you, and you're immediately made aware of it by their noses, loud breathing and loud footsteps.

Instead of stopping talking and concentrating on keeping up with me, like the Smilling Critters do, she just keeps on talking. I can already hear that she's out of breath and won't make it much further.

"Just straight ahead!" You didn't shout it or make an effort to wrap it up so they could all hear it, given their condition.

"DAMN! WHY DO SMART PEOPLE ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SO FUNNY?"

The final sprint follows. Your legs feel as good as ever, you could easily run this distance another twenty times before you notice anything. The conveyor belt beneath you suddenly turns to hard plastic and you are no longer in the belt system.

The new room, where you are all still standing on a small catwalk, consists only of a long catwalk containing multiple pipes and conveyor belts positioned everywhere. But your path is directly blocked by boxes that are stacked high and won't let you through.

You will realize it immediately:

We have to go down a step, onto the catwalk below us.

But how? In a few seconds Huggy will arrive here, destroy the door and run towards us. I don't have infinite time, less than five seconds, if that.

"HEY WHAT ARE WE DOING NOW?" Olivia shouts in your ear as she stands next to you. You all stand on the narrow catwalk, blocked by the boxes and panic in the air.

So you do it, you look around, so quickly that it almost seems like you never did it. All the information from this room flows into your mind, the length of the catwalk to the door, the width, the number of people and even the approximate room temperature. By turning your head to broaden your field of view, you take in all possible information that could help you resolve this situation.

That's how you always did it in the experiments. By looking straight ahead, we are using our central, paracentral and macular visions. But you could do much better: your Blessed Mind allowed you to absorb and process all things at lightning speed, even if you only saw them for a fraction of a millisecond.

In the experiments, it was often the tools, such as the scalpel or clamps. In the event that the patient, now the experiment, woke up, which never happened because you had calculated the exact amount of sleeping pills for the body, you still knew what you should have done.

By including all possible information, the solution seems far too simple for you:

The large box above you, on a stationary conveyor belt.

She was perfect, with your GrabPack you could hit her at an angle, and as soon as Huggy runs at you, you pull her down, hitting not only him, but also the catwalk.

How long would it have taken other people to realize all this, because it only took you 1.7 seconds. But you weren't really a human being, more like the waste of all thoughts and feelings that no one else could process.

"Y/N! WHAT NOW!"

You don't answer, stand in front of Olivia and the Smilling Critters and keep your eyes on the box. The critters panic and stand behind you, with Olivia standing in front of them and directly behind you, in a pose like a mother cat protecting her children.

"HEY! HE'S ABOUT TO COME IN HERE AND KILL US ALL! WHAT'S THE PLAN?!"

"I already told you." You finally reply, turning to face her, her eyes still on your back. Your tone of voice was calm, which Olivia can't understand one bit in this situation, standing frozen as if a giant monster wasn't going to come out and kill you all in a few seconds. "That's the plan."

"DAMN YOU BASTARD NOW SAY IT! I DON'T WANT TO DIE YET OKAY?"

You don't react, press the GrabPack button and land your hand on the box above you. It was wood-colored with yellow lines around the edges and a line through the middle, which somehow doesn't fit here in terms of color. While your hand is already stuck to it and your backpack starts to wobble slightly, you make a mental calculation to be on the safe side, but it only confirms it.

With a gravitational acceleration of 9.81 , the box will have a weight force of approximately 981 newtons. Even if it is lighter, it will be light enough to break through the catwalk and take Huggy with it.

"WHY ARE WE STILL STANDING HERE! WE HAVE TO LEAVE!"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

"I'm scared..."

"IF ALL TEN OF US GO FOR HIM, HE HAS NO CHANCE!"

You ignore the stupid statements behind you, they are unnecessary and so idiotic that they don't even find a place in your mind. Your eyes stay on the vent entrance about 5 meters in front of you. If you mess up the timing by a second, that's it.

Your idea to give the critters something like an apology. Try to come to terms with your incredibly unnecessary life. To find the strength to apologize to your brother for everything. To get your negativity back and start from scratch again.

To make your mother proud for once in your life.

"I HEAR THE BANG, HE'S HERE!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE Y/N! WE HAVE TO RUN AWAY RIGHT NOW!"

You stand still, and the moment Huggy bangs through the metal door, it's quiet. Time passes slowly, your eyes are by far the quickest in the room to comprehend the situation.

At this very moment, with Huggy standing less than ten feet in front of you, no one dares to question your determination. The whole idea was already crazy: the person who turned the Smilling Critters from humans into monsters wants to help them get their old bodies back.

But you act: With a strong press of the switch, the blue and red toy hand of your GrabPack pull on the box, which falls straight down.

It hits Huggy on the head and pushes him down so that he hits the floor of the catwalk with it. She also destroys the platform beneath you, and for a moment you are in the air. The critters scream, but the loudest screaming voice is still Olivia.

You land on your feet and are the only one to do so. As you watch for another second as Huggy slips off the side of the catwalk and falls off, you turn around to see how the others are doing, even though you don't care.

Olivia has fallen on her butt, legs outstretched as she stares into nothingness while holding a nervous smile paired with an aggrieved expression.

DogDay, who had apparently been hugging CatNap, was lying on his stomach. With his tail wagging in the air and his legs bent against his body. CatNap was sitting on his back with a smile on his face, showing that the whole situation had scared him, but now that it was over and the adrenaline had worn off, he would like to do it again.

Hoppy and Kickin are lying right next to each other on their sides, with their chests rising steadily and breathing loudly, which even you can hear. While Hoppy slowly tries to get up, and for a moment her left leg is not in rhythm with her right, Kickin jumps up. He straightens up, holds up his beak and says something like "Phew! Not so bad!".

Bubba, who is completely shocked and doesn't seem to understand the situation, is completely beside himself. After all, he is sitting leaning against the railing with a distraught look on his face. His shakes are shaking, as are his legs, and his arms are just lying next to his blue body.

Picky, Crafty and Bobby lie on top of each other. They almost form a small ball, with Bobby on top and Crafty on the bottom, with Picky in the middle. But they don't stay like that for long, Bobby gets up quickly, helps Picky and Crafty by holding her hand out and stands next to Bubba at the railing.

And then there you are: Absolutely stoic. No sweat, no trembling legs, an almost bored look on your face and complete control of the situation.

"Was this...your plan all along?" Olivia says, for the first time speaking softly and with an adrenaline-drenched tone of voice.

You don't answer, just look down at her, still sitting there on the catwalk, gazing back. It was pathetic for you how a grown-up person could be so stupid and still not understand anything, even though the panic situation was long gone.

You scoff, pass her, straighten your GrabPack and walk ahead again as the head of the group. It was a waste of time for you, and time was ticking, so you don't have much left to waste.

Meanwhile, something completely different was going on with Olivia, her thoughts were in pieces and her smile disappeared from her face.

This guy knew all along what was going to happen. He knew the way since the Make-A-Friend Room and was able to direct us here, and immediately solved the problem with the blocked path!

How far can he see ahead? Could it be that before he entered this factory, he already knew that he would meet another person? That's why he took a GrabPack with him, even though the paths were cleared by me!

Unbelievable... How the hell did he know all this?! How many steps ahead of us is he? Huggy would have slaughtered everyone without a problem, but with simple thinking Y/N put him in checkmate.

He is...

With that, her eyes land on you again, you, the guy walking at the head of the group. She is completely flashed, while her mind slowly puts the pieces of the puzzle together, just as you did hours, days or even years ago.

A genius.

With that, she walks off, past the critters, who are all already busy chatting, and stands next to you again. You don't move a bit, the only sign that you're alive are your footsteps, which leave a slight metallic sound on the catwalk.

We are honestly lucky that he is on our side. Not only does he probably know the inside of this factory better than anyone else, no, he also knows all the experiments.

And in addition...

Her eyes land on your jaw, your pale skin and your eyes. Each feature gets full attention, while the rest of her body continues on automatic. She literally analyzes you and compares what she sees here with the stories she has heard about you.

He doesn't look too bad...

This brings you to an abrupt halt.

"Huh? What's going on up ahead?" Says Kickin, only seven meters behind you. With one hand, he walks around the yellow fur on his head while his eyes land on you and Olivia.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Bobby shivers behind you, with her arms now against the other side.

"We can take a little break here." You say, turning around and looking at the critters. Your eyes land in the middle of DogDay, watching the others out of the corner of your eye.

The word break hasn't even left your mouth for a second before Picky sits down against the railing and rummages around in her backpack.

"Who's up for a slice of pizza?"

Another two seconds pass and the critters organize something like a buffet. They carefully place food and drink on the metal catwalk and distribute it among themselves.

You and Olivia stand next to her, like teachers in a kindergarten group, looking down on them and watching them together. You don't move an inch as you realize that a coffee would be good to completely heighten your senses, which they always are.

"To think we were just running away from a giant blue monster." Whispering in your direction, with her hands on her hips, Olivia turns to you and starts to smile. "I don't know if it's the coffee I spilled earlier or something else. But! my pants are wet."

Fucking idiot.

And so ends Chapter One, a long journey characterized by too many thoughts and too much panic for the Smilling Critters and Olivia who is now along for the ride!

But that's only one of four, which means there's a lot to come. A slow redemption, slow relationships that build, many encounters with experiments that plague your past and maybe finally learning to empathize.

Maybe this Journey isn't so much about becoming anything. Maybe it's about unbecoming everything that isn't really you.

Notes:

Wow, after the chase scene they all take a break together, quite unexpected. I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who helped me get to 260 kudos! Many thanks to all of you! It really means a lot to me to see that people are reading my stories. The next update will be for my Arcane fanfiction again, then for the Rat story. After all, time is ticking there, and I think it will be the first of my stories to end. Thank you all for reading, leave kudos and comments!

[emmcfrxst]

LOGAN GIVING HIS PARTNER HIS DOG TAGS AS AN ENGAGEMENT RING SUBSTITUTE 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣

it happens in the afterglow of your lovemaking, with your head resting on his broad chest and one hand over his heart, fiddling with the hair there. he leans down to kiss the top of your head, warm hand tenderly running up your bare side before the words leave his lips in a rush, quick but fluid like a waterfall.

“marry me.” the tremors of vulnerability in his voice cause you turn your head to look at him with wide eyes, meeting his soft gaze. you stare at him for a few more moments, speechless, before your eyes well up with tears, a warm, genuine smile breaking onto your face.

“yes. yes i’ll marry you.” you whisper, voice trembling, causing a shaky laugh of disbelief to leave your lover’s lips. he cradles your head, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone affectionately before an embarrassed expression takes over his features, his ears turning a soft shade of pink.

“fuck…. i—i don’t have a ring or anythin’… i know it’s not much but—” he cuts himself off by sliding the dogtags off of his neck and passing them over your head, the metal resting between your breasts. the action makes you sob softly, moving to kiss him passionately— you know what his dogtags mean to him; a part of his identity he used to desperately cling onto when he was still searching for the remains of his failing memory. wrapping your fingers around them, you lift them up to your lips, leaving a soft kiss onto the metal before moving to do the same to the back of his hand.

“it’s perfect.” you reassure your lover, the dampness in your eyes matching his as he sniffles and nods, silently letting you know the depth of his gratitude. it is then that you promise yourself to spend the rest of your life guarding the metallic pieces like your most prized possession, just as you promise to love him until the very end of time.

[seobinghard]

I'll tell you.. Mingi is the type of would have a twitter porn account to post adult content, such as jerk off videos and nake/shirtless pics

NSFW X / TWITTER CREATOR MINGI

he'll never show his face. but you'll get a glimpse of everything else alright. the silver chains on his neck when he fucks his pocket pussy for a pov video. the fix on tattoo on his chest when he plays with his nipples, shamelessly fucking himself to other OF creators' videos in his gaming chair. his messily painted black nails as he touches himself for the camera, running his fingers down his toned abs and gently stroking his clothed bulge through his calvin klein underwear, teasing his viewers—sly and slow, "you want it?" mingi loves his subscribers; his 'baby girl' as he calls them. always posting on schedule and coming on live in the dead of the night to 'play' with his baby girl, guiding you to touch yourself to his voice. "you miss me? oh yeah, i know you want this dick inside you, baby." and when he cums, he cums hard. "fuck, i'm gonna cum– gonna f-fill you up so nice and good– nghh– yeah, you want that? my pretty baby." it's always a fucking mess when mingi cums; guttural groans and desperate whimpers as he milks his cock dry, hot white sticky cum dripping down his fingers like melted ice cream (yum). sometimes, when he's feeling generous, he'll post a cute asmr video of just his voice putting you to sleep with a raining bgm / soft r&b for the eepy vibes. sometimes, it's a straight two min audio of him cumming in his pants. all in all, nsfw x / twitter content creator mingi 100/10 highly rated top 5% creator solid amount of following loyal fanbase just overall a well-loved baby boy ꈍ .̮ ꈍ

m.list