#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 2: not here. not now. not anymore.

Y/N would probably have thought of everything, except what he just heard on his phone, it hits him harder than he would have expected. Then theres this Problem with CatNap and a missing Worker, this will get weird.

---

This chapter contains some depressive behaviour… i think.

---

Nothing.... at all... I hear absolutely nothing as I simply push my phone back into my coat pocket. A Headache starts, a very bad one, my head throbs as if someone had shot me. I... I can't do this...

"Why?" That's all I say... I just can't say anything else. I just don't understand it... 'Why me? Is this the karma for my actions here in this fucking shithole? Just thinking about it makes my head throb harder. 'Shit'

No matter what, showing emotions in this Hellhole won't get me anywhere, especially not with the Experiments. 'I need to distract myself, which experiment do I still have to visit?'

While I'm thinking about the other experiments, a memory comes up out of nowhere that I had long forgotten.

Me and Rin on the football pitch, well..not exactly, we were sitting on the grass both eating an ice cream. 'Siblings are great'. Shit, what am I thinking, I haven't spoken to him for years. And now that mum's funer-

"Fuck!" I shout it out loud, far too loud for the dark passages that await me here until I arrive at the lab. I can't distract myself, and I won't see the lab for another 700 meters, so there's plenty of time. Enough time for my thoughts to slowly consume my Sanity…

And I have to get out of here slowly, the stuffy air and my flaming head are killing me down here, and I also have to talk to Elliot later. 'Pathetic' Pathetic to ask someone if you can take time off because someone has died.

'Wait a minute, someone? My mum isn't just a someone, is she?' No, I don't need permission from someone like him, who lets little kids and staff down here turn into monsters just because they don't dance to his tune.

But am I that much better? After all, I have the direct position under him and carry out the operations that turn people into these flesh-filled abominations.

My eyes tremble as I can finally see the light. 'The lab' I literally grind my feet against the glass door as I slowly pick up the handle and press on it 'Its cold', I haven't even opened the door and there are already 2 people running towards me.

Before they say anything I check them out, thats what i always do. Stacy and John, both wearing their hair up today. With Stacy being about 5.5 ft and John standing taller than me, at 6.2 ft. They both stop Running to me and just stay here, well not long… Cause Stacy begins to Speak.

"Y/N you have to ma-"

"The Smilling Critters, right?"

"Shit… youre Scary... but yeah, Them. well actually just CatNap but I heard they need a medic down there for the kids and Lukas has already been down there for a day." She talks way too fast, Lukas is not the smartest nor the physically strongest so he's probably lost somewhere. 'Wouldn't be the first time'.

"Wait a minute... How did you know it was about the Smilling-"

"You're both far too worried to have just one employee down there, you do realize we have almost 10,000?" I quickly reply,trying to not waste Time.

"Hey, you don't think that way about us, do you ?, or when we get lost down there?" John starts to mumble, and quite heavily at that, but there's not really much he could have said.

"I don't think you're that incompetent, after all, you're scientists here, and not an electrician who can't tell left from right."

"Man, Lukas is really nice, you really don't have to look down on him like that, you know?" I stopped listening at the beginning when I heard the name Lukas. That guy got lost many Times before already.

"Yes, and Lukas has to be found quickly and brought here, he didn't want to go under there but it was an emergency!"

"Hm?" Well, now they had part of my attention. An emergency ?

"Yes, and also it's his Mother's birthday tomorrow, and he doesn't want to be late."

"His mum? He can be la-" 'Wait, what?' I feel like my brain has just stopped, like I'm seconds away from a panic attack. His mum? He has to go to her birthday?’

"Hello... earth to Y/N?" My brain is completely switched off I can't hear anything apart from my pounding heart,dammit. And on top of that, my fucking head is throbbing more and more. 'Mother'. The only thing working in my head right now is the amygdala, the emotional memory system.

'Birthday' was all I could hear, but I could still see all of my mother's last 60 birthdays before my eyes. As a family on the couch, or in the restaurant, even in the car when we just drove to another Place. 'God damn it' why now? And then the birthdays of the last 5 years.

Where I wasn't present because I was: 'working', I didn't do shit. I spent the days turning the employees who threatened to 'talk' into neglected monsters who could neither talk nor think for themselves. No 'monster' doesn't even begin to describe what I did to them, from drugging them to slowly pulling out some of their nerves so they would be so scared they wouldn't even dare to think about driving this company to ruin.

"Hey Y/N is everything good?"

Goddammit... I wasted my time down here in this hole using my brain while out there the people who brought me here were running out of time but I didn't care.

"! Y/N HEY Y/N!"

No I didn't give a shit, I've been doing the same thing for the last few years and now time ran out for my mom... How much longer do I have until my father dies?

I'm about to fall to the floor,but I just about catch myself. 'What the fuck?'

"Hey?" 'Yeah, what is it? what do you want?'

"Y/N" ‘Yes?’, they’re both staring at me like I'm a little kitten they just found on the street.

“Well sorry that I pushed you”    Yeah yeah very sorry, ‘I know you don’t give a shit about it’.

"I was just thinking about something..." I'm not lying, but I've been doing a lot more than just thinking about it...

"Damn Y/N it looked like you saw a ghost hahaha... You were really petrified for a few seconds, but that's with you with your whole... I'm sure it's normal with your big brain and knowledge" Damn he talks a lot, he likes hering his own voice so much.

"Funny... I'm on the way" I turn around and walk through the clean and all white lab, I don't need to turn around because I know how Stacy and John are probably staring into my Soul.

As I walk through I see a tall man coming through into the lab with a small child. 'A little girl? how? she's not old enough for the experiments' I decide not to get loud now and jeopardize the researcher's job. Besides, the little girl would probably start screaming if she knew that nobody wanted to adopt her, but that people trained and educated by *me* would be taking her organs from her body in a couple of hours. And Stuff that shit into some fucking puppet.

But I just leave the laboratory. ‘I have more important things to do' Saving a man with a family like Lukas or a little orphan without anyone, its not that hard of a decision.

I walk out of the door and a couple of employees come towards me again, 'I just hope they don't talk to me'.

And they don't, but they stare at me far too long for that. Of course every member of staff here knows me, and I'm in the direct position under Elliot Ludwig, but I'm not a god or anything, I'm just the guy who turns people into experiments.

At least I'm not one of the lowly employees who has to take the train to Playcare at Gamestation, because I got a master key personally from Elliot, and as I slowly slide my hands under the soft smock material in my pants pocket to get the key out, I can already see the elevator from a distance. !HIGHER MANAGEMENT ONLY! is written large on the front in dark red letters.

I take the golden-brown key in my hand and slide it under the shield into the lock. Turn it twice to the left and three times to the right. That was the combination, not everyone is allowed in here. The clean metal doors open and I stand in the open doorway.

And the lights around the room start to go on 'at last'. Theodore is supposed to have something, or as the rest of the gang call him CatNap. In my opinion the thing is a far cry from CatNap which now takes care of the children who don't want to sleep, after all it's not really alive anymore as I removed the heart and only left the operating part of the brain in the puppet.

But that was necessary because Theodore had a friendship with the Prototype and almost escaped with it, but I knew about their plan long before that. I knew that the prototype had chosen some kind of outsider among the children. would pick some misfit among the kids and make him obsessed with the 'Freedom', very predictable. and i was even sure exactly when they would pull it off. So I changed the green hands of the grave pack to non-functional ones so that anyone who tried to use them would be electroshocked.

The plan worked and the next thing I found was the badly burned, barely breathing, and bleeding Theodore Grambell on the operating table. He was to become a puppet that would only obey orders from the staff not the prototype. And now the 7-year-old sits in a corpse  that he has no control over whatsoever. Well, that's just the result of his belief in the prototype.

I hear a loud squeak and a ring, a female voice that says: "Playcare"

[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.

[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."

[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.")

[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.

[dipperscavern]

reading the father cregan most has made me feel things ?? my womb is empty ?? and waiting for cregan ??

ALSO KISSES i will always read your tags. they are the favorite parts of my day, in addition to when you post. notifications stay ON.

climbing up the walls with more thoughts of father cregan 🤠 (gods be fucking good, this does sound like a convent. hi sisters!) 🛐

i digress. as we have well established, cregan is a lovely father. he's patient. he's a leader. and he's got that stark loyalty and determination to protect what he loves. which is you and your little pups. (ur so right. he only refers to them as pups.)

i imagine that when your water breaks, you are squeezing this man's hand to the point of bone breakage. pleading with him not to leave. so when the maesters come in and settle you, they look at cregan, expecting him to leave the room - per tradition. one of them, maybe the youngest, starts speaking. "lord stark-" and cregan shuts that shit DOWN ☝️ "your lady stark does not wish it." and everyone knows to shut up and listen when it comes to lord and lady stark.

he is absolutely the type of lad to pick your kids pups up as they climb all over him. once in a post, you described his back as burly enough to sled on and your kids are determined to test that. HELP CAN we actually picture cregan's velocity sliding down a hill like 😐 while his kids are giggling, sliding on his back. hi! hello!

he tells your kids stories of the north in that rugged god-sent accent as he tucks them in for bed. will probably sneak out with them in the night to go get lemoncakes from the kitchen. he gives them cute little fur cloaks to wear, with the house stark embroidery. THIS IS SO CUTE I AM GOING TO SOB

holds them during his meetings. could literally be planning to go to battle or smth, and one of his kids comes in. he just puts them on his lap before continuing with battle strategy. he was just meant to be a dad. he's so giddy about it. so in love with you, and grateful that you gave him this. you gave him chubby little pups running around the castle, hands up in the air reaching for you both. he just wants more :((( crawling at your feet, in your arms, and more in your belly.

i fear i'm going to crash out if i continue. (will definitely be continuing with more asks later. ✊️)

-🔄❄️

REVERSE ELSA ANON HERE TO GRACE US ALL AGAIN !!! yes pls continue later arF ARF ARR ARF

u read my tags….. stop ily. notifications on too i am truly honored. ANYWAYS… SISTERS SISTERS GATHER ROUND. GATHER ROUND FOR FATHER CREGAN

you are so right btw. because when your water breaks, that’s when it all becomes real to you. yes, you want this babe out, but birth is a scary, painful thing. hearing the stories of men choosing to save the babe instead of the mother (i glance to viserys), or of men being done with their wives after they do their duty has only heightened your worry in having to go through it. cregan would never do that to you, you know this, but the thought is a scary one, and it lingers nonetheless. it doesn’t help that the rational side of your brain isn’t in charge right now. you’re afraid.

so when cregan goes to leave and fetch the maesters, you, not usually one to make demands — find yourself almost yelling one.

you both stand rooted to your spots, looking at the fluid on the floor. he was trying to help you into bed, but apparently your pup had other plans. you’re momentarily paused, cregans arm around your waist, hand enclosed in yours while facing the bed. shock hangs in the air as both you realize what this implies. he moves to remove himself from you.

“I will fetch the—“

“No!”

your tone of voice stops cregan in his tracks. has his brows pinching not in their usual hardness, but concern. he had hardly begun to turn away before you reached for him. he tilts his head to look at you, your own dropped down, gaze fixed on the floor. you look at him, a mix of so many emotions on your face cregan could not begin to name them all. you have a hand over your stomach, the other firmly clasped over his arm.

“Do not go. Please, Cregan. I’m afraid.” he’s never heard you like this before. fearful. you mistake his worry for refusal.

“Please— I ask this of you—“

“You need only ask once.” he reassures.

you sigh, relief flooding your veins at cregan heeding your request. it’s tradition for the husband to remain outside of the birth room, but you’re not sure you can do it without him. cregan only pulls you closer, shouting the name of your sworn sword that has been made to accompany you everywhere since the late terms of your pregnancy. the knights response is instant, opening the door with a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“My Lord.”

“Fetch the maesters, Ser. The babe is coming.”

the knight only hesitates with shock, before bowing with the ghost of a smile on his face and running to do as commanded. the entire castle has been waiting on your pups arrival, you both included.

eventually, the maesters arrive — and in tow with them, an army of midwives and your usual ladies in waiting. cregan stands at the foot of the bed, far enough to be out of the way, but close enough to be at your beck and call. they’re attentive, maesters setting up their various herbs & medicines as your ladies in waiting prepare the room itself, your midwives attuned to your every move.

one of the youngest maesters, new in his craft, looks at cregans unwavering form with hesitation. he swallows, and begins to speak before one of the elder maesters can stop him.

“My Lord, it is tradition—“

“Your Lady Stark does not wish it,” he says, looking at the young maester. “So it shall not be.”

the man only nods, returning to his work with his head low. the other people in the room, who have served under cregan for years, know when lord & lady stark come out to quiet themselves & get to work.

the labor is long, and the birth difficult, but cregan is there every step of the way. eventually, hours upon hours later, your pup enters the world — kicking and screaming.

“A boy, Lord Stark!”

cregans heart skips a beat. a boy. an heir.

before you know it you have three. two boys, and one girl. cregan melts into the father role like he was made for it, and every time you get the gift of watching him interact with your kids, you get more and more convinced it is so.

watching them hang off his back, giggles falling from their lips, stretched in a wide smile as his much larger arms come to support under their legs. the view of it from behind makes you laugh, each & every time. cregans back almost swallows your kids whole, their tiny frames dwarfed in comparison. even so, he handles them with a gentleness most wouldn’t expect from the wolf of the north. alike to how you might handle a butterfly landing on your fingertip, or the delicacy used to handle newborn foals.

cregan verses them in the culture of the north, along with its stories. tales of vampire direwolves, the old gods & weirwood trees, and the stories cregan himself was told as a child. he’s careful to not scare them too much, but sometimes, other people can get carried away. a guard or one of the men on his council letting a frightening tale about the others slip, resulting in them asking to sleep with you and cregan for the night. of course, you oblige every time, generous in your reassurances that the others are no match for Ice — or for their father.

your daughter has him wrapped around her finger. pleas of staying up just a little longer, or riding just down that trail are almost always obliged. he can’t help it, when she looks up at him with those big pleading eyes of hers — the ones that are akin to yours. asking him sweetly if they could please check for any leftover lemon cakes. it’s late, she should be asleep, but cregan can’t help himself. opening the door in a way so it won’t creak, hushing her giggles and buying the cooks silence as they get a late night snack.

and yeah, when one of his pups stumble into the council meeting, he doesn’t turn them away. he picks them up to slot them on his lap, and the stern look on his face is all they need to see to know to be quiet if they want to stay. he could be planning anything — from a hunt, to going to the winter town himself to take care of a group of men intent on causing havoc. it could lead to bloodshed, but your kids don’t seem to hear that part, just content being with their father.

cregan wouldn’t trade this life for anything. he loves his pups, and he’s so in love with you. passing by each other during the day, and cregan always stops you, pulling you to him to slot his lips against yours — no matter how busy he is. he can’t help it, you’re just so lovely, and you’ve given him so much. he thinks of you every time he looks at your pups, and he feels his heart skip a beat in his chest. seeing your pups throw snowballs at each other, and he can’t resist, pulling you close & bending to connect your lips with his. you melt into him every time.

[hannie-dul-set]

WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK?

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — ceo! sunghoon and secretary! reader, humor, romance. w — swearing, sunghoon being a weirdo, a misplaced marriage proposal. 1.3k words.

requested by — anon: menace to everyone but you x the opposite of that.

note — i hate the cold angsty male ceo trope. so instead i turned ceo hoon into a weirdo that's a little bit too in love and doesn’t understand the concept of workplace boundaries which stresses you the fuck out!!

when you got promoted from being assistant secretary thanks to your ceo’s former secretary resigning, your co-workers did not throw you a celebration.

“you called for me, mr. park?”

instead, they threw you an advanced farewell party. it was nice working with you, said the cake dusted with stray confetti on the day of your promotion. they’re celebrating your inevitable resignation. they’re sure you’re going to follow suit after you predecessor within three months max because according to them—

“yes.”

your boss, park sunghoon, is the nastiest fucker in the planet.

“take a seat.”

you gulp, making cautious steps into your ceo’s office. he’s signing a stack of documents while you take your sweet time delaying having to sit in front of his paper-stacked desk, setting them aside the moment you sit down, sharp eyes immediately zeroing into your soul, and you start sweating.

there’s a bet on the line on when you’d eventually quit. today marks your fourth month here, and you’re pretty sure heeseung is going to win because you are in fact this close to sliding your pre-written resignation letter over his desk, adding onto his pile.

not because he’s terrible, like they all say. not because he’s temperamental.

“sunoo told me you were sick,” sunghoon starts. “why did you come to work today?”

but because you fear your boss might be a little bit in love with you.

“is...is that the only reason you asked for me?” you hesitantly say, picking on your cuticles and trying to avoid eye contact because the concern drowning your boss’s expression is just enough to drown you as well.

“you don’t look well,” he avoids your question. of course you don’t look well. you’re very, very uncomfortable right now and the main cause of that discomfort is him. “you should go home. i’ll tell jay to drive you.”

you’re pretty sure jay isn’t going to be happy with that. 

“mr. park—”

“i thought i asked you to call me sunghoon.”

your mouth is left hanging open. you’re flabbergasted. you take a second to recollect your thoughts. “...mr. park. sir,” you emphasize. you should at least be the one reminding him of your hierarchical roles at the moment. sunghoon looks upset that you’re not abiding by his request, but says nothing in protest so you continue. “i ran out of sick leaves. and there’s still so much work to do, i can’t just go home.”

“you ran out? well i’ll just give you more.” sir, that’s not how it works. “and jungwon can take care of your work. you should go home and rest.”

jungwon wouldn’t be too happy with that either. you feel your stress levels rising, headache incoming, because he’s just not listening to you. this crazy bastard, you think to yourself.

but maybe you were thinking a little too loudly.

“can you say that again?”

you slap a hand over your mouth with a gasp.

“say it again.”

you’re fucked. you just called your boss a bastard right to his face. “i’m—i’m so sorry, mr. park, i didn’t mean to—” but maybe that’s a good thing because that means you wouldn’t need to debate about resigning if he’s gonna fire you. “i apologize. i’ll accept any punishment you’ll give me.”

“no, say it again,” he hums, sounding a little too happy after being called crazy and a bastard, and you get a bad feeling. a really bad feeling. “i felt like we just got closer because of that. swear at me again.”

there’s a smile playing on your boss’s face. 

“i— i don’t think that’s appropriate, sir.”

jesus christ, he’s a bit more in love with you than you thought.

“why not?” when sunghoon gets up from behind his seat, circling out from behind his desk to lean back against it right in front of you instead, you start fearing for your life. he looks at you, arms crossed in disappointment, and he looks a little too good with rolled up sleeves and slim-fit slacks. 

crap, were you just checking out your boss?

his crazy is rubbing off on you.

“you have no trouble with swearing at and laughing around with the others,” he says. “why can’t you do the same with me?”

he is not normal, you think. thankfully not out loud this time. “sir, you’re my boss. i’m just your secretary. there’s a big gap there. i can’t just treat you the same way as i do with my co-workers.”

your boss takes in your words. he remains quiet with a stoic face for a few moments, and with each passing second of silence, you feel half a year of your life being shaved off. “ah,” he finally makes a sound after a good minute and a half. “should i give you a promotion, then?”

oh my fucking god, he’s nuts.

“boss, there’s an urgent thing you need to—”

“did i permit you to enter my office?”

your eyes widen, slapped in the face by a whiplash when your fellow secretary jake suddenly pops into the office, only to be cut off by the sharp glare and icy tone of your boss. jake’s hand doesn’t leave the doorknob when he nearly stumbles in shock with a stack of papers pressed to his chest. you see the look on his face. it’s the face of someone who’s about to get royally fucked over.

“n—no, sir. but these documents are—”

“then why are you in my office?” holy shit. so this is what they meant when they said ceo park is a bitchy demon from hell. jake looks like he’s about to piss himself. you’ve never been on the brunt of his temper— likely because he’s biased and has feelings for you, which has always felt burdensome. but now you’re a little thankful because you’d probably cry if he snapped at you like that.

“i’m sorry, i’ll leave now. i apologize.”

with that, jake makes his hasty retreat, and you’re once more left alone with your crazy boss. 

“where were we?” he says. “oh, right. your promotion.”

you’re starting to feel dizzy. 

“i’ve never liked how seojoo handled things. you can take his spot as the sales department head.” you have to stop him. you have to stop him before he actually fires a competent employee and gives you their spot as a courtship gift. “wait. i think you’d prefer working in HR actually. it’s a shame ms. kim is going to lose her position, but i can just—”

“mr. park—”

“sunghoon,” he cuts you off. “call me sunghoon.”

you look at him, exasperated. “sir,” you say. “i don’t think this is right.”

sunghoon raises a brow. “you don’t like HR? which department would you prefer then?”

you can’t. you can’t do this anymore. you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander out of stress, because they inadvertently land on the shiny gold glint of his nameplate, which is a terribly bad move following after his question because sunghoon notices, and sunghoon gets the very, very wrong idea.

oh, no. oh, no no no no no—

“i see.”

he doesn’t! he doesn’t see! you aren’t coveting his seat! you just want to go back to work and stop dealing with your insane and far too in love with you boss!

“i’m afraid i can’t give away my position as ceo,” he tells you. you swallow, shutting your eyes because you don’t want to acknowledge the mess you’ve just accidentally made, but your lack of vision definitely doesn’t interfere with your sense of hearing.

what you hear next sounds clearer than you’d like it to be.

“how about the position of being the ceo’s fiancé instead?”

that’s it.

“i will be getting back to work now, mr. park.”

there is something very wrong with your boss. it’s not in your job description to fix him.

WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK? © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[that-butch-archivist]

"Every time I speak at a lesbian-feminist gathering, I introduce myself as a femme who came out in the 1950s. I do this because it is the truth and it allows me to pay historical homage to my lesbian time and place, to the women who have slipped away, yet whose voices I still hear and whose V-necked sweaters and shiny loafers I still see. I do it to call up the women I would see shopping with their lovers in the Lower East Side supermarkets, the femme partners of the butch women who worked as waiters in the Club 82. I remember how unflinchingly the femme absorbed the stares of the other customers as she gently held onto the arm of her partner. Butches were known by their appearance, femmes by their choices. I do it in the name of the wives of passing women whose faces look up at me from old newspaper clippings, the women whom reporters described as the decieved ones and yet whose histories suggest much more complicated choices. And if femmes seemed to be "wives" of passing women, the feminine protectors of the couple's propriety, it was so easy to lose curiosity about what made them sexual heretics, because they looked like women. Thus femmes became the victims of a double dismissal: in the past they did not appear culturally different enough from heterosexual women to be seen as breaking gender taboos, and today they do not appear feminist enough, even in their historical context, to merit attention or respect for being ground-breaking women."

- An excerpt from "The Femme Question," written by Joan Nestle and found in The Persistent Desire: A Butch-Femme Reader. (Emphasis in bold my own.)

[thegeniusofplaytimeco]

Chapter 11: A Tight Squeeze for Everyone

Here you are at last, the preparation is as good as complete and it's back to the factory. The goal: to retrieve the real bodies of the Smilling Critters. But navigating with 7 people is very tiring, especially when some of them have to talk all the time. You are also greeted by someone who is already ringing your alarm bells.

---

I am back! Finally, the next chapter of the story! As I said on my Wattpad, writing this was a long story, With the burning Heat and everything. And here are a few of the future chapter names I can already say: - Moments before disaster - In a Silent Way - The Theory of True happiness - Truth - Break my Heart Well, with that I would wish YOU a lot of fun reading, best leave the endnotes too!

---

"First aid kit?"

"Yep!"

You're all in your living room. You're standing right in front of the TV with a big backpack leaning on your right shoulder, but your eyes are facing forward, all of the critters are sitting on the couch. They were sitting in the same order as always: Hoppy and Kickin on the far end, followed by Crafty and Bobby, then DogDay and CatNap and finally Bubba and Picky.

Right now, for once, it's different, they're all completely focused on what you're saying and doing, because you're discussing the plan and your luggage for the last time. Right, in a few hours you'll be driving back to the factory and now was the last chance to check everything and avoid mistakes.

The division, chosen by you, was based on interest and selection. Everyone had a reason for what they put in their luggage. You had the most important role, everything medical and documentary was in your large Backpack. Apart from the small things, like a first aid kit. Your backpack was filled to the brim with medications such as Dramamine, Cough Drops, 70 percent isopropyl alcohol and much more. You store it in the back of your mind in a kind of list: First Aid ➤ Specialized Items ➤ Additional Supplies.

But the most important thing was in a small pocket behind the backpack: Ciclosporin. The drug that is needed when body parts such as organs or tissue are transplanted to suppress the immune system and prevent rejection of the transplant: Immunosuppressants. As the laboratory may have been completely lost in the experiments, it may no longer be in stock, so you take it with you from home.

You have thought of every little detail, as always.

[ "There are parts of the human being that are still a great mystery." ]

It's going to be a long trip, and somehow you have a strange feeling in your stomach. As your eyes go from critter to critter, this feeling grows stronger. You can't shake it, it burns itself into your head like a dream you've always wished for.

But it's bad at the same time. You not only have the feeling, but also the idea of what horrors await you in the factory. You will probably all be pushed to your limits, both humanly and existentially. It will be horrible, especially for you.

After all, you are the one who made them all the way they are.

"The construction plans for the Main Entrance to Train Station areas?"

"Yes! All in my backpack!" Replies Bobby, far too enthusiastic and nervous for your liking. She has no real idea what to expect, they haven't even been out of Playcare yet, so why the tone in her voice? To you, the Smilling Critters were just one thing most of the time:

Idiots

"I think we have everything, Y/N. I think we can go, I mean the sooner we go the better, don't you?" Bubba looks confident, as far as you can tell. They have at most a couple traits for each emotion that change when expressed, less than humans. Bubba pushes his trunk a little higher and strikes a thinking pose. "Since our bodies are uncooled right now, and the temperature could drop constantly,

Like I don't know, does he think I'm an idiot? Why are you explaining it as if I don't know? I'm the one who explained it to you. Or is that some kind of consideration for your friends?

No matter.

"Yes, go...let's go."

[ "You can sacrifice pieces of your flesh but still be considered selfish for keeping your bones "]

The feeling is tearing you apart, not just the nervousness you're covering up, no. In the end, it's all your fault and you're hoping that the feeling of guilt won't catch up with you. If you meet the prototype, even you can't imagine how the conversation will go.

Will you really face the horror of the experiments, death and all the dead employees? Even if you have always been quite unemotional in life up to now, it could be that everything is taking its toll on you.

Maybe even a genius like you is pushed to his human limits, both mentally and physically.

So here we go.

<hr> </hr>

"Will we be there soon?"

You don't answer. Your eyes are fixed on the dark road and the trees in the background, both hands on the steering wheel. Your ears have so far ignored the critters, even when CatNap and DogDay sitting in the passenger seat start talking loudly. The other 6 of them sit in the back and talk louder, most of the time playing "I spy with my little eye" or talking about stupid shit like little kids. Picky is already talking about the food she will prepare in the factory after we take a break or sleep.

"Anon"

So it was quiet again for a while. Kickin kept asking in a 7-minute rhythm when you would finally be there. Yes, you counted the time between each question. Your eyes waver on the mirror for a fraction of a millisecond, and Hoppy's eyes meet yours for a moment. You know her look, the emptiness in her eyes, the tired and unwilling manner. A few days ago, that was you. Or you still are, after all, you've hardly changed at all, your habits have remained the same and so has your realistic and logical way of thinking.

People don't change overnight. People like you take years, maybe not at all. They die alone, with no purpose in their lives and goals that never existed. Empathy Loose beings who only walked this earth because they had no other choice, in fact you have done everything so far because somewhere deep in your mind there was no other choice.

Hoppy looks just like you think.

She definitely still hates me. I can't blame her, and I don't, because I don't care. But she's the only one of the critters who still has that look on her face. I wonder how long it will last.

Your hand sinks down and finds itself on your right knee. You're wearing a white shirt, every single button buttoned all the way down. Over it is a black coat, it reaches about your knees, lies flat on your shoulder and covers you. The exact room temperature was one of the factors you can't determine exactly, so you have a coat and a change of clothes in your backpack next to the medical supplies.

The coat also serves as sight protection for the pistol, which you conceal in the inside pocket.

It's not just that the Smilling Critter shouldn't see the weapon. In case you run into other experiments, which is bound to happen, it's an extra layer of protection. Every experiment has a certain vulnerability, and you have great aim with the weapon. Shooting was basically nothing more than physics, predicting fast shots based on gravity using probability was not difficult, especially not for a genius like you.

"I spy with my little eye, something that is blue and square!" Bobby shouts it loudly through the whole car, for a moment you see CatNap slightly folding down his ears.

You know exactly what she means, and it's not really difficult to find out. Along the road you are currently driving along is a large pillar with a signpost saying: Playtime Co. Toy manufacturing company. The dark road, slightly mixed with fog, high yellow/orange lights above the road and the huge factory building already in view reminds you of a dream from a few years ago, it even feels like déjà vu at times.

So we're almost there, 700 meters to go.

There it is again: that feeling in your stomach. You can hardly describe it, as if you are now experiencing a moment that you dreamed of a few days ago, and these are usually not good moments.

"Dude, I'm really excited! I mean we're going to see the other side too, so it can't be that bad!

He didn't understand what we were doing here, did he? Fucking idiot.

600 meters.

"Kickin, what we're about to do is really dangerous and not cool, are you really aware of that?" Bubba answers him directly, like some kind of teacher who hears his student whispering a question.

500 meters.

"Yeah Bubba, I get it man!"

"Calm down, we all have to keep a cool head now. Everything is at stake here people, we finally have the chance to change everything. I mean...just imagine it: Enjoying life in a normal body and the normal world!"

Maybe they not only have the chance to change everything, but so do you.

400 meters.

"H-Hey...So...would you all like to...live together later?" Crafty asks, shyly, her head so low it's almost on her knees. She stutters slightly, probably already caught up in the anxiety the factory triggers in her. She sits in the middle seat, the smallest and thinnest next to Bobby. Now that no one is answering and it has become uncomfortably quiet, she quickly starts talking again.

"W-Well, we don't even have to

"That's a great idea Crafty!"

"Yes Crafty, really, not bad. Then we can all move into something like a shared flat later and go to school or college together."

300 meters.

He probably got the word "flat-sharing community" from one of your books. After all, it only appeared in one of the books you had on your shelf in the bedroom, although you never actually allowed him to get to it, in some of the documentaries of your work. But the word only ever appeared once... Damn genius. You can memorize everything perfectly, even better than fucking people with a photographic memory.

"Sooooo" Kickin starts talking again, a little bored, but at the same time waiting for something. "How are we supposed to do it, so I don't think any of you have a lot of money to just rent us an apartment."

"Oh, I think you earn very well as a scientist, don't you?" Hoppy, who else. The passive aggressiveness is hard to miss in her voice. Her bunny ears are hanging way over her head and her eyes are on the rearview mirror, trying to meet yours.

This is followed by silence. Nobody talks, nobody breathes loudly or anything else. Everyone seems to have understood what Hoppy is getting at:

She thinks because I did all this to them, I'm going to buy them a house now? Interesting way of thinking.

200 meters.

Your eyes focus on the large, visible parking lot that you are slowly approaching. You slowly press more gently on the pedal, only just under 40 km/h and the engine is no longer audible. The vibrations still follow you through the gearbox and drive your train of thought.

In case the Higher Management elevator doesn't work because of the power, then we have to walk a much longer one. First the Main Entrance then to the Gift Shop, through the Security Room and into the Main Lobby. Most likely into the Power Room for the doors and through the Warehouse. Then in the Make-A-Friend into the Conveyor Belt System, therefore the Ventilation Shaft. Then we should end up in the huge scaffolding structure, come across the Poppy room that was set up there at the time and through there to Ludwig's office.

100 meters.

"Dude, we're really back here."

"Yes Kickin, that was the whole plan wasn't it?"

"I didn't mean it like that, I just mean this feeling, do you understand?"

"I know what Kickin means! That warm fuzzy because we're all in the car together?"

"No Bobby, I don't think that's what he means."

"y-you are really loud"

"Crafty, I think it's the excitement."

"Yeah man! The excitement before the damned doom"

"Sigh...Kickin"

"Yes, yes. It's all right, I'll be quiet."

"Huh, I thought Bubba remembers them all?"

"What?!"

"We can't leave all the plans to Bubba, can we?"

"Well... actually, yes"

"Kickin!"

"It doesn't matter, we have him by our side, you know...he's a genius"

[ "Let him take care of it, he's a genius" ]

You have arrived.

The parking lot looks exactly the same as the day you disappeared with the Smilling Critters. There are loads of cars here, all different makes and colors, some of which literally glow in the darkness of the night. But not a person in sight anywhere, all dead, or for the people looking for them, gone.

You barely spend any time in the parking lot, you at the front and the critters all behind you. First up were CatNap and DogDay, following your steps side by side to the front door as if you were some kind of guide. Then came Hoppy and Kickin, just a few steps behind them but basically faster. Behind them was the rest, talking the whole time about how "It looks really creepy out here, so abandoned." Or "I think it's much nicer outside than inside in Playcare."

Two large glass doors, actually open, as if they weren't automatic. You're not surprised, after all, all hell will have broken loose in here if a riot of experiments has happened.

You stop, the Backpack on your back shakes slightly, but you don't care. Normally these doors should be closed, partly because of burglars and partly for security reasons.

"What's wrong?" Crafty asks, seemingly a little frightened that you've suddenly stopped. You don't answer, this is more important. You stop between the glass doors and take a closer look. Normally it works via a combination of sensors, a motor and a control unit. But you don't need a closer look to see that the sensor isn't showing any light.

And that's it: the power is off.

"The power is off" That's all you have to say, you don't even have to turn to the critters to hear their reactions.

"God damn."

"Oh my."

"And what should we do now, DogDay?"

With that, you turn slightly sideways towards them. They all stood in a small circle, heads interlocked, seemingly thinking together about the next step. It looked like a rainbow circle, the different colors of fur and their radiance unavoidable

"We..." With that, DogDay looks up, his eyes meeting yours Which are not directed at him. He easily follows the direction and sees that You're looking at Hoppy. She wasn't standing in the circle, close by, but clearly somewhere else mentally. DogDay looks away, once to CatNap, who only gives him a stoic look. Then once to Bubba, who only answers him with a slow nod, and with that DogDay seems satisfied. "We'll just follow Y/N's plan, the long way through the factory."

You walk straight in and are greeted by a cash register with a huge Huggy Wuggy drawing on the wall. All you could see was his head and the iconic red lips, next to the head was a yellow speech bubble with the word: Welcome. Straight ahead of you, to the left and right are two paths, which are blocked by a turnstile barrier.

Without wasting another glance, you go in, stand at the front for a moment and think for a moment.

On the left is the security room, on the right: the Gift Shop.

You hardly need to think about the whole thing, this is just the beginning of a long trip. Behind you, you can hear the critters all slowly coming in, heavy and light footsteps, some of them already breathing heavily. The reason is definitely the air: the smell of blood is subtle, but noticeable.

"Wait here for a moment." Go to the Security Room, where you should always have a spare GrabPack according to the regulations. In front of the door is a keypad with 9 different colors on it. Most of them don't matter, except for four. This system was only introduced 2 years ago, and was actually there so that if people tried to break in they wouldn't get far. However, every damn idiot should know that there are only 6561 combinations in a field of nine colors. That may seem like a hell of a lot to most people, but if you think about it, if you only need 5 seconds per entry, you need almost 9 hours.

Anyone who really wants to break in here would simply try the standard combinations. Like a number sign, so first check whether it's just one color, four times.

If you have eyes and ears, go to the Gift Shop. Directly on the ceiling is a small train, a model train. The colors are painted directly on it, in order. You were fundamentally against this idea: employees who can't even remember a four-color code shouldn't be entitled to a GrabPack. But since Ludwig told you every day about employees who once again couldn't get into the security room, you didn't care.

The dome of your index finger feels strange on the colored surface of the keys. It was as if you were pressing on a stone, the surface is actually slightly uneven, perhaps by a few millimeters.

Did someone try to escape the riot? Then the person here was scratching at it the whole time. Did they not know the code for the room? Anyone who can't even remember a four-color code probably doesn't deserve to have a shelter like this.

green, pink, yellow and red.

Your thoughts come to a halt as you enter the room. There is no one here. No sign of any people, apart from the subtle scent of blood in the air.

You don't know why, but somehow... you think about the thought you just had.

No one made it in here as protection? Did someone betray the code to experiments and sacrifice the others? Never. Or were the people really too stupid to get in here?

Your eyes take in the room: to your left are two chairs, followed by a table and then a square glass container in the wall. In front of you are 30 monitors on several tables, with 4 chairs in front of them. You walk directly towards the glass on the wall. Normally you need the tape on the reception desk or the tape in the gift store, but it doesn't matter.

You're smarter: just press the play button on the tape player and look: The glass opens and a GrabPack is there for the taking.

You can't believe that the whole system was so stupid, actually you can, but that there really were people who thought you really had to put in the right tape? Pathetic. People are so pathetic, with their simplistic thinking.

You grab it, put it over your shoulders and the plastic backpack-like part behind your backpack. The blue hand is in front of you, while the back part is on top of the backpack. But you can easily keep your balance, even with the extra weight.

The Red Hand should still be in the warehouse.

You go back to the main entrance where the critters are already waiting for you. Even though they are not small like their cartoon versions, some are even bigger than you. These were DogDay and Kickinchicken, they were about 6'1, pretty tall for an experiment. That also put them among the tallest of all the experiments, except for a few outliers like CatNap (the praying mantis version), Huggy Wuggy and the prototype's True Form.

On the left as you walk, you notice one of the marketing posters with the words "Poppy want's to Play". You never really liked Poppy, of course, she was one of the first creations created by the Doctor back then. That's as far as they got, and that's why she was regarded as a kind of goddess. But she was basically just a child whose organs were transplanted into a little doll, no, it's much worse than that. The child's innards were optimized so that they would fit into the little doll. Only one lung, the heart made smaller, the intestines shortened and parts of the brain completely removed.

But in your opinion, it wasn't a good job. The doctor, Harley Sawyer, didn't pay attention to too many things, and that's one of the standard mistakes of a human being. You weren't like that, in a situation your brain immediately switches into high gear, it was like overthinking, but hardly comparable. You see every possible scenario as if it were drawn on a tree diagram, with every outcome and consequence of every action. You were one step ahead of everyone, not just one, on average more than 5.

The only reason people thought Harley Sawyer was so good was because...they didn't know you.

"What's that?" Bobby asks, slightly puzzled but interested. Her eyes widen, she steps slightly out of the circle the critters have formed and waits for an answer.

"Is that one of those GrabPacks?" Bubba shouts a little louder, standing up straight and glancing at the Blue Hand sticking out to your left.

You don't answer, it would be wasted anyway because Bobby has an attention span of a few seconds and would forget it straight away. So you answer with a curt nod and turn towards the large Huggy drawing on the wall.

You walk forward, along the turnstile barriers and into the small dark semi-circular middle room. The only thing here is the metal-blocked door and the small blue scanner above it. You adjust the GrabPack a little so that it is not so heavy on your shoulders, after all, the journey is only just beginning and it will be on your shoulders for a long time to come.

Behind you, you hear the footsteps of the Smilling Critters, two quietly at first and then the rest. They've already looked around a bit, you saw that out of the corner of your eye earlier and because Crafty was still looking towards the Gift Shop in the circle. That's why they're making loud noises, because they know there's no one here, so they're safe.

With your left hand, you pull the small red trigger under the blue hand and watch as it shoots out and attaches itself to the blue scanner above the large gate. It takes a few seconds, but a small bar above the scanner starts to load immediately.

"Wow, this hand is really cool."

"I'm sure it would be easy to get into cupboards if you're small."

"Is there some kind of computer chip in there?"

They talk far too much.

The beam is full, the metal gate slowly rises and only one thing can be seen from afar: A giant Huggy Wuggy.

What is he doing here?

You walk forward slowly, instinct sharp because of the experiment, which is now within a 20-meter radius of you. You are not the only one who has noticed him, even if the critters take longer.

"DUDE! HOLY SHIT!"

"Kickin! Stop Screaming!"

"Kick, You really Scared me!"

Can't they all shut up for a few minutes?

"Guys, c-calm down. Have you forgotten that we're not alone?" You don't turn around, preferring to keep your eyes on the most important thing: Huggy. DogDay seems to be trying to calm the others down, even though you can literally feel his body shaking. "We've got Y/N, he-he's helping us."

Silence falls again for the time being, only heavy breathing can be heard behind you. You step forward into the huge room of the main lobby. The typical colored squares on the floor, the toy boxes lying around, the doors around you. The feeling is hard to describe, the closest you would get is if you were in a dark end of the hallway waiting to finally be found.

"I...I'm scared," Crafty mumbles, completely disturbed by the sudden change in atmosphere.

The only thing in the whole room where the light was is with him. Huggy Wuggy stands tall with a big smile on his face while not moving a centimeter. His left hand is taut next to his figure, the other holding the huge sign that reads: Playtime Co.

You observe him more closely.

The blue color of his body looks much too fresh. His eyes are slightly wider than in the labs, is it the human flesh he ate? Why are there these toy boxes everywhere?

"Wait here for a moment."

You walk around the area and keep an eye out. The various rooms that were all closed off: Testing, Innovation, Theater, Cafeteria, GrabPack-exclusive Room, and the Power Room that keeps the electricity flowing to the Make-A-Friend hallway.

But something was wrong: there was a hole in the large metal gate to the Make-A-Friend Hallway. A medium-sized hole, about the diameter of a knife, in the bottom left-hand corner.

Did someone sneak through there? Was someone trying to escape there? Shit, are we not alone?

"What's going on?"

"Is something wrong Y/N?"

You don't answer and look at them. They are still standing at the front of the room, all with their eyes fixed on Huggy. They look at him as if he's going to move on them at any second and eat them all.

Although that is also possible. Huggy is probably in standby mode right now, he won't be hungry for human flesh and therefore won't cause any problems for the time being.

Your eyes fixate on the metal gate again, but this time not on the small hole, but on the scanner above it. You shoot the blue hand of the GrabPack at it and don't really expect anything, after all nothing should happen as the power is off.

The person who made a hole in the metal gate here is bloody stupid. How can you get any further without electricity? This power room conducts the electricity in this direction in the first place.

Before the scanner bar fills up, a short circuit sounds. A voltage can be seen, small and quite fast, running from the scanner along the cable and then stopping at the power room. You follow it, a few steps and you are standing right in front of the room labeled "POWER". Next to it was a small drawing of Huggy, but he was unimportant for now.

At least until you hear a small metallic sound behind you.

You turn around in a flash, feel your backpack shaking on your back and the GrabPack about to fall off. Your eyes wide open, your breath held for a second and you felt the adrenaline from your brain run completely through your body.

You analyze Huggy's form.

He didn't move. Not a bit. He is standing on the same square meter, his feet are in the same position as 27 seconds ago.

But now a key was hanging from his right hand. A small yellow key with a triangular head.

The key to the Power Room.

Most people would be shocked now, after all, a key has appeared out of nowhere in his right hand. But you, no, you're not like most people. Without a second thought, you shoot out the blue hand, grab the key and pull it back with the trigger.

You take it in your right hand and step straight back to the power room. You are about to go in until you hear the critters.

"Hey, Y/N..."

Ugh.

You turn to them, they are already standing in a kind of circle again. This time they all turn their heads towards you. All of them are trembling, if only slightly. The fear was easy to see, unexplored territory and situations that have not already been explored always trigger panic in the brain.

"C-can we go with you?"

No.

"It's really creepy here."

Did I ask?

"Huggy was never that scary."

You've only seen him in a cartoon, what did you expect?

You already knew that they get scared so quickly, but you're still annoyed. The power room would only take you a few minutes at most. You know the wiring diagrams by heart and the only thing you have to do there is to connect a high voltage connection to another point via two conductors. If anything, you need 30 seconds.

"Come then"

Have you gone soft? If you had been here a month ago, you would never have let them come with you. You wouldn't have cared what happened to them, whether they survived or were gradually torn to pieces by Huggy. But now? No, you can't just leave them here, it's like morality. But you haven't changed much yet.

You walk one step faster, into the dark corridor with the red sign "STAFF ONLY". Simply push open the black glass door and you are already in the Power Room. Lots of small gray cabinets, behind which there are small systems and distributors. The company's electricians should have made more of an effort to distribute the power boxes, then the power would certainly not have failed so easily in the riot.

You shoot the blue hand at one of the power cores, turning the extension blue, which is a sign that voltage is flowing through it. You waste no time, walk once around the room, glide along the conductor with the thin, energized arm and reach your destination.

The critters watch you like little children, which they actually are, at least in part. Big eyes and two open mouths that look like the left arm is shining blue and an atmosphere that was a change from the one you just had.

"Wow."

"What a beautiful color."

"Can I touch that?"

"Better not do it Bobby, I think there's electricity running through it..."

What a bunch of idiots.

You turn around and something catches your eye. It's not as if you hadn't seen it before, you just didn't want to stop and take a closer look because it would take time.

It was a destroyed boogie bot surrounded by spattered blood, above it on the wall was a drawing of The Prototype's hand. The only word there was "Wonderful".

The riot seems to have happened a long time ago, the blood is already so dark. But what's with the Wonderful? Does the prototype want to assemble his own body with the corpse parts just because I told Ludwig that I wasn't helping?

You turn around, walk back down the corridor to the main lobby and notice something.

Huggy has disappeared.

Your eyes only see the empty pedestal where he stood a few minutes ago. Only the lights above it were also on and all shone downwards, where no one was.

Has he just come out of stand-by mode? Right now when we were all in the power room? No way, he was awake the whole time and was just waiting for us to let him out of our sight.

The critters don't make a single sound, not even DogDay's tail moves. You don't have to turn around to see their fear, the loud breathing you hear is enough. None of them talk, whereas they usually all talk at the same time.

As you shoot the Blue Hand at the scanner and watch the bar slowly fill up, you think.

Not only is Huggy now in our path, no. There is definitely a human here who is taking the same route as us, otherwise the hole would be here for no reason. So a human and an experiment directly in our path.

You let them know what you had never done before.

"We're...we're not alone."

This opens the metal gate to the Make-A-Friend hallway and you see a long blue arm clinging to a door far away.

---

All right, that's it for now. But who is this mysterious person who, instead of solving the electricity puzzle, simply made a hole in the door and crawled through? I hope we meet them soon. As I said before, here are some of the names of future chapter names that I can already name: - Moments before disaster - In a Silent Way - The Theory of True happiness - Truth - Break my Heart Have fun reading, leave a Like and a comment!

[aesthetic-bbyg]

SWEETNESS ~ BUGGY

LA!buggy x straw hat!reader

Based off of this post bc it made me giggle PT 2

Nattie speaks: y’all this mf clown has no right to be so fine but LAWRD. I’d do anything just for one lick. This is short nd simple but cute🤭

ZORO DRAGGED HIS FEET across the wooden floors of the Going Merry, ignoring the muffled screeching of the clown head inside the dark sack as he set his eyes on thing. Nightfall was approaching, everyone on the ship wanted some rest, yet nobody was getting any with the constant whining of Buggy. The green haired man pushed open your door, making you jumped slightly as you looked towards him with a raised brow.

“I give up, all yours now.” Zoro voiced practically dripped in annoyance, he tossed the sack across the room, making it land onto the soft cushion of your bed before slamming the door behind him.

You could hear groans coming from the sack, “Damn you, you fucking broccoli-haired ass!” You chuckled softly, putting down the comb you had in your hand and walking towards the scruffy bag. As you released the clown head he sighed in content, breathing in the fresh scent of berries that engulfed the room. “Ah, sweetness, so good to see you!”

“Nice to see you too, Buggy.” You giggled, “You doing alright there?” You asked, smiling a bit as the man got comfortable on your bed.

“Much better now that I have you in front of me.” He winked with a flirtatious smirk on his red painted lips. “I definitely thought he was going to put me with that weird chef guy again so he could chop me into piece and cook me or something.”

“Looks like you got lucky today.” You smirked back, grabbing him and placing him on the small vanity, going back to combing through your hair. Buggy was a simple man, with simple needs, especially since his whole body was gone. The angle his head was facing gave him more fuel into his dirty thoughts. His eyes directly faced your chest, eyes captured on the line of cleavage peeking from the low cut tank top you had on. He was hypnotized by you, for the first time since he was taken by Luffy and placed on the ship to sail away to Arlong island he’d gone completely silent.

You simply hummed, clueless of how the clown shifted slightly to get a closer view. You suddenly let out a huff, dropping the comb and looking over at the clown. “Y’know, I like having you around here, you totally make me feel special and even though the rest of the crew might really, really not like you, know I’m on your side.”

“Mhmm.” Buggy hummed in response, eyes hungrily watching you. “I appreciate that, sweetness.”

You smiled. “You hungry?” You stood up and took him in your arms, cradling him carefully like he was a baby. The blue hairs that peaked from under the striped bandana tickled your skin.

Buggy enjoyed being around you, especially since you were so generous and careful with him, the others simply tossed him into the sack or an empty barrel whenever he even spoke. But you, you fed him, you defended him, you took care of him and did the exact opposite of what everyone else did. “I’m hungry for one thing, that’s for sure, sweetness.” The clown replied, eyes still clued onto your tits as you entered the small kitchen.

“Hey, maybe we can brush through that tangled mess once we get a quick snack.” You replied giddily with a big smile, “Hey, and wanna know another thing—“ You heard a string of groans follow as soon as you stepped into the room with Buggy.

“I gave him to you specifically to get away from him.” Zoro groaned, making Sanji nod in agreement.

“I’ll be out soon, stop your whining.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, reaching for the basket of fruit and picking out two apples. You picked up a knife and cutting board, quickly going to work and chopping up a few apple slices. “So as I was saying, nobody has ever taken me seriously, which why I also like you, you don’t make fun of me which is what many others do.”

Zoro and Sanji glanced at eachother with questioning looks as you proceeded with your mini rant, both of them making eye contact with the clown head that smirked at them, a cheeky look in his eyes.

“But I mean, Luffy chose me to be a part of his crew so obviously I can be more, I’m not dumb, and I feel like more people need to take me seriously.”

“Hey.” The clown smirked as he watched your every move, finally speaking up about his slight obsessing with your chest. “Nice tits.”

“Thank you!” You happily replied with a smile, placing the slices on a clean plate and taking Buggy back to your room as everyone stared in shock. “Goodnight boys!”

“Yeah, goodnight fellas!” Buggy called out, and if only he’d had the rest of his body he’d most definitely be given them a middle finger.

“How is it that a clown can do better at getting that girl then me?” Sanji muttered in annoyance.

Forever will live, love, and laugh Buggy

yummy, I <3 men who are bbyg’s

[murdrdocs]

i might just be projecting but i feel like coryo would be so into like the concept of “taking” someone’s virginity. he’s all about things being his … i 😵‍💫

coriolanus likes to own things.

he likes that his closet is full of an extensive assortment of coats. he likes that the new apartment that his family lives in is under his name. and he likes that his significant other is his.

there's a little while where he's satisfied with just the label. he's satisfied with hickies and slight public affection so everyone knows. but then he wants something deeper. something that runs to the core and will stay with them forever.

luckily, he comes to know that you're a virgin, and a situation has never been more perfect in coriolanus' eyes.

he's teasing, a simple, "you're a virgin?" spoken under his breath as if it's something to be ashamed of. and if you do start to behave as if you're ashamed, ducking your head and hesitantly confirming what he already knows to be true, he's quick to haphazardly clean up the mess he's made. though, it's less of a clean and more of a polish.

he slides a hand under your chin, lifting your head gently. "it's nothing to be ashamed about," although he'd made you feel just that.

it's all because he wants what he's destined to have. but he won't take it unless you want him to. he needs you to trust him, to willingly give it up for him. because it makes it all the more thrilling.

knowing that someone has put enough faith in him to willingly let him own something so sacred. he's not a romantic, far from it in fact. but the sheer thought of the ownership of it gets him.

being able to walk around as if he literally has your virginity in his back pocket. having you forever tied to him in a way that would leave you thinking of him, even if you dared to physically separate yourself from him.

it's a rush that coriolanus (still young and getting used to having power) can't get from anywhere else.

[vannabanana212]

something about lesbians with hand tattoos…