#i got written up just for approaching a little too fast for people's liking

[fascinatedhelix]

Some fun things I’ve heard at work over the past few months:

“I gotta take what’s left of my brain and throw it in the trash because right now it’s all soup, and not even good soup!”

“____ is turning 21 soon.” “Oh she’s a baby!”

“Hello Mr-and/or-Miss security man person!”

“Are you high from the paint fumes yet? It stinks in here!” “No, unfortunately.”

“The sign says please don’t climb on the platforms.” “I didn’t see a sign!” “…. (points to a sign saying STAY OFF PLATFORMS PLEASE)” “I said I didn’t see a sign, not that there weren’t any…”

[coffee-and-tea-time]

HEAR ME OUT: A LIMINAL SPACE BUT YANDERE

…we seem to have drifted from our original plans with this account-

I call dibs on the dilf then

No, back off, he's mine🤺

Word count: 1.6k (the very first long post) (subtle brag)

TW: hinted yandere behavior but soft since it's the introduction, monster/non-human, written in you/yours, don't expect it to make much sense it's a liminal space that we created with things that came along the way and a bit of the backrooms wiki, human! reader is confused but interested (willing? Mostly confused)

“ugh… What time is it?”

You go grab your phone, annoyed that your stomach managed to wake you up. Maybe you really do need to eat something before trying to go back to sleep, though it's too comfy being in the warmth of the blankets…  still, a loud grumble from your belly ruined your plans, with no other option left, you sight and reluctantly got out of bed with your phone in hand, however, as you were making your way to go to the kitchen, you heard the distinctive ping of your phone's notifications which made you turn around to see… you have your phone in hand, why is there a replica of your phone on your bed?

You get closer, thinking it's surely something else and your eyes deceived you because of the dim lighting, when you grab that second ‘phone’ you got even more confused, is a perfect replica of your own, you even compared them both side to side wondering if you finally went insane but you didn’t get enough time to question your sanity as you start to feel extremely dizzy, like everything around you is spinning around so damn fast you can't even tell if you were the one moving or see properly at all, you close your eyes in hopes that it will prevent you from getting nauseous.

"Why is feeling so fucking chilly?"

You said in a shiver as you feel yourself fall, this time you know you are really moving, why? Because your face hits the snowy ground… Snowy ground? 

You move yourself a little too fast for a person that just kissed the ground with so much force, all you can see around you is softly falling snow through what looks like a residential street. 

The night sky a little too black, there were no lights that you could clearly see from just a swift look around, no stars, and… no clouds, the sky was pitch black, yet the houses were illuminated with a slight glow from moonlight even as the moon was nowhere in sight. 

The place was eerie to say the least, the overwhelming quietness of it all almost a warning of danger. There were no sounds of people, no distant murmurs of far away conversation, no barks from pets, no chirping of shivering birds.

This place is nothing like any place you've ever been in but it still gives you a nostalgic feeling. 

What can you do to return to your home? 

You start walking, maybe you should knock on a house with the lights on? It can be dangerous but there aren't a lot of options, one thing is sure, when you return home, you're gonna go to the hospital for a check-up, mental or physical? You aren't sure yet.

You thoughts were stopped when you catch a silhouette not so far away, seems the darkness makes it hard to see properly, but it's seems like the shadow of a little girl making a snowman, the sight relieves you somewhat and you decide to approach, asking the little girl is far more secure that knocking on randoms doors.

"Excuse me, little miss! It seems like I got lost, is there an adult with you that can tell me which street this is?"

You said out loud, it seems like the little one hears you when she tilts her head a little and moves her arms around cutely, the girl seems eager for you to come closer although you can't really tell if she is looking at you or not, it's odd, even as you get closer, you still see a shadow more than a child.

And then, you feel a soft and cold touch on top of your head, the faint snowing plus the silence makes you feel like you could hear as the soft snowflakes fell around you, like your sense of hearing heightened from the sheer lack of any other sounds. 

That being said, you couldn't help but jump when the loud sound of the door opening abruptly met your ears and even more when you hear like somebody is running behind you, you quickly look back but all you can see is snow and darkness. 

You return your gaze to the child, and got even more taken aback to find a shadow shaped like a abnormally tall man with horns sticking out of the dark smoke that seems to shape his 'hair' in front of you, and in the blink of an eye, you were picked up by 'him', he ran faster that you ever thought was possible, before you can even breathe, you already were inside of a house still in the man's arms, his hands under your armpits cupping you up like a soggy cat.

You try not to panic, as you let your eyes inspect the place, only one thing is sure: if it is dangerous, it is better not to test his patience, horror movies taught you better than that.

You feel something really cold hugging your leg, you gaze slowly going downwards only to find what you think is the little girl you saw earlier… seems like your eyes didn’t trick you before, it is in fact, a silhouette, a pitch black outline of a child.

What in the world is going on?

Well, at least they seem to understand you, the little one let go of your leg and gestured, trying to explaining you everything with charades, you would find it very lovable and adorable in any other occasion; your focus on the kid quickly interrupted by the man's hold of you shifting, his hands coiling around you and pressing you to his chest in what felt like a hug, your feet don't even touch the ground, you can feel thought your pajamas the cold emanating from his.. body? Well, unlike his gastly looking hair, the rest of his body did feel more solid, seems like even shadows can have a sleeper build… 

Wait, what?

Before you can think of anything else, your stomach growls, right, you were about to fetch yourself some food before you ended up here, though, their reaction to the grumble of your stomach amused you, how the tiny blank eyes of the little girl widened, them both freezing in a second of shock before the man ran again with you in his arms.

You can sense the toddler running after you two as the man runs into what seems like a rather luxurious kitchen, your bare feet finally meet the rather warm floor again although you still don't have time to relax as the shadow man tries to hurriedly feed you a spoonful of baking powder.

“I’m sorry but I can’t eat that…”

You anxiously try to explain why you can’t just eat baking powder, hoping he didn’t take it the wrong way and lucky for you, he seems more concerned than anything, his.. mouth? twitches making more of a weary expression, at least you think so as he hurried to open all of the cabinets and even the fridge, letting you look through everything to search for something you could actually eat.

You sense a gentle tug on your pajama's shirt, when you look down, you were met with the little girl shyly offering you a fruit that you can actually eat, so you gladly accept it, you can’t help but find the shadow duo cute as they start cheering between themselves, seemingly celebrating that they found something that you can eat, you kind of want to take a photo but well, you don’t have your phone and probably if you had it, you would be calling for help rather than recording cute moments.

You start to relax on the chair as you eat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off of your body and with that comes the pain, right, you slammed on the ground a few minutes ago, you feel your body between a state of numbness and pain, you can't help but to winche because of that, which make the duo approach you again quickly.

“Sorry, i-is nothing, I just… need some sleep”

You come up with a quick excuse, even though they are weirdly kind and seems harmless, just in case, it's better to avoid mentioning any injury or damage since you still don't 100% trust how they'd react, you trust the outside even less though. Your mind plays back to that running you heard behind you before the shadowy man took you away, the memory still sending shivers down your spine. To escape from them without proper knowledge of how things work here sounds dumb.

As you were lost in thought, the tall man scooped you up once again, this time his cold touch felt gentler than before, you start to wonder if he sees you as a cat of some sort but there is no use in asking since these creatures don't seem like they know how to speak.

He walked you upstairs into what seemed like the master bedroom and gently tucked you into the bed with a soft pat on your head, you start to sense that these shadows love being affectionate, a little touchy feely; Maybe is the contrast of his cold body with your warmer human body, you can’t really blame him, the smoke that he has for hair seems really soft to the touch too…

For better or for worse, he stood up straight again and start checking the lock on the windows, making sure they were well covered, only opening the door to invite the child in, who quickly layed besides you handing you a little book, a bedtime story, with a smile, You find endearing the fact they so eagerly want to hear a story, but a chill runs to your spine when you hear the tall man locking the door and then laying down on the other side of the bed beside you.

The night ends up peacefully although the exhaustion wins over your sense of self preservation, you slowly drifting off to sleep after reading the story to the little girl.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

[theemporium]

how about a number 8 you're mai tai with lando norris x non famous!reader

and

a number 37 smut-berry daiquiri with max verstappen

thanks cece, once again congrats on 10k, love love love your fics.

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

8. shielding the other one with their body

.

You knew Silverstone was going to be insane since it was Lando’s home race.

Though your relationship with Lando wasn’t new, attending his races and being seen around the paddock were. Lando had respected your desire to keep the relationship private, even if it made it a little harder with the distance between you both during the season. But it was worth it. 

You were worth it. 

It wasn’t until a year or so into the relationship where you began making appearances in the paddock. You never showed up with Lando, trying to keep the least amount of attention on you but it didn’t take long for fans to start to pick up on the links between you both. 

But Silverstone was different. 

It was his first home race you were actually attending since the two of you started dating and you couldn’t say no to the excited look on his face when he asked you to attend. He wanted to share this experience with you, with the girl he was pretty sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

He just wished the experience didn’t include almost getting stampeded by fans.  

It happened far too fast for either you or Lando to fully realise what was happening. You were trying to make your way to the paddock entrance, passes in hand as you were approaching the turnstiles. 

But then a large group of fans appeared out of nowhere and screams broke out and suddenly there were so many people around you. They were shoving you back and forth, left and right, you didn’t know which direction was what. You didn’t know where Lando was.

Your breathing was starting to pick up, your heart was racing and your whole body was freezing up under panic as you realised you didn’t even know how to get out of the crowd. You couldn’t even bring yourself to call out to Lando, to anyone for help. You were frozen.

You smelt him before you even saw him.

You smelt Lando’s cologne overwhelming you as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You could feel him yelling as his chest vibrated under your cheek but your hearing was muffled and you couldn’t quite work out what he was saying. 

All you knew was that you were in Lando’s arms and you knew he would keep you safe. 

He didn’t pull away until you were in the McLaren motorhome (not that you really remember how you got there) and he only pulled away enough to cup your face, his brows furrowed in concern and guilt written across his face. 

“M’sorry, baby,” he whispered with a heavy voice as his eyes skimmed across your body. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? I can get Jon to get a first aid kit or we can go to medical—”

“I’m fine,” you murmured, your fists clenching the fabric of his hoodie like you were worried he would be pulled away from you. “That was…a lot.” 

“I thought there would be more security,” Lando frowned, his thumbs skimming along your cheek like the action was just as soothing to him as it was to you. “I wouldn’t have put you in that position if I knew—”

“I’m fine, Lando,” you spoke again, giving him a soft smile in hopes it would help reassure him. “All thanks to you. My knight in papaya armour.” 

Lando snorted. “Oh, that was terrible.” 

“Yeah, but it made you laugh,” you retorted.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Lando confessed, a soft expression painted across his face. 

“I’m glad I’m here too, baby.”

.

[himezoro]

love wins all (a roronoa zoro story, part 2) (smut)

tysm for your support on part 1 !! this story means a lot to me, i've had a lot of vision to write it etc. it's not proofread, and it's written by a tired lawyer who's been up for the past 15 hours because of a few cases. anyway, thanks for your support, and thank you for making my days so much more bearable. ilysm !! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

inspired by this song!!

@sanjisprincesswifey i know you liked the first part, so i'm dedicated it to you (i hope it doesn't suck lmao)

warning!! : nsfw (minor DNI), gender (female), mention of (Y/N), slight angst ? angry sex/cheating involved.

.・゜゜・ 1 hour before ・゜゜・．

Zoro’s years of superhuman training were a benefit here. His body was moving on its own, as fast as he could, barely paying attention to the people he was bumping into with his broad shoulders. Just like a race horse, he had blinkers preventing him from seeing the rejoice faces of the villagers preparing for the reception, dancing to the musicians’ plays on the streets and basically creating a path to the palace where the festivities were to take place.

These poor people don’t know what they’re talking about.

While he made his way closer to the palace, his mind was too busy thinking about the last words you two shared rather than thinking of an infiltration strategy. From the way your plumped lips traced thousands of “I love you” to the harsh “I hate you” they uttered when he took off, from the laughters they shared to the silent cry they failed to conceal. From the lewd sounds they let escape when his cock thrusted into your wet cunt, to the sensual moans they purred onto his lips.

For a second he felt his heart sink, and a weird feeling to his stomach. Was it anxiety because he was about to enter a restricted area? Mad, that you forgot about him so easily? Jealous, that another man, and a ridiculous one he thought, got to spend the rest of his life by your side? Sick, that a man that is not him, was to touch you in ways only he could?

He couldn’t pinpoint the right word for what he was feeling, and he frankly did not care. His goal was set, and it was to enter that palace and get to you. How would he achieve that was apparently not an important matter to him, because he just barged in, breaking through the guards with undiscovered strength, not giving a damn about the consequences.

I’m sorry guys, we’ll have some mess to clean up before tasting the banquet.

His ears almost failed to hear the guards crying for help and threatening to call the Marines, as he climbed all the stairs he found at once, his heart knowing that at the top, they led to you.

And it did.

.・゜゜・3 minutes left・゜゜・．

Zoro was facing a long corridor with a large room down the hall. The doors were slightly opened, as if he was awaited all along. Even though he knew he probably was not the person you wished to see, he still felt like the small light peering through the doors was a way to your heart. Like there was hope.

His pace slowed as he approached your doors, and his hand lingered on the door before slowly pushing it open, his good eye widening at the sight he was bestowed with.

There you were, in all your glory, your back facing the door as you looked at yourself in the huge mirror standing in front of you, gently trying out earrings that would complement your hairstyle of the day. The white dress you were wearing hugged your curves perfectly. The corset on top carved the shape of your waist, only for it to enhance the curves of your ass. The silk material left little to the imagination, and he could stay watching forever. He swore he could smell your perfume from here, already enamoring him much more. He could see the glistening of your skin as the so-short sleeves of your dress lovingly fell off your shoulders.

You were a mythology goddess. A legend, only for him to see.

And he had a chance to conquer.

・゜゜・00・゜゜・．

« So I guess my invitation got lost in the mail? » you heard the hoarse voice speaking through the opened door of your quarters. You kept on looking at yourself in the magnificent mirror standing in front of you, looking at how the white dress hugged your form, pretending not to have heard the said voice, ignoring the immediate chills it sent down your spine. You knew who these words belonged to, and so did your racing heartbeat.

You slowly reached down to the table by your side to pick another pair of earing to try out, letting Zoro enter as you calmly and sternly responded.

“The only thing that appears to have lost itself here, is you.”

Zoro scoffed as he fully entered your quarters, closing the door behind him as he stands, looking at you intently. Gosh, you were even more beautiful than in his memories. The way your hair fell so beautifully around your face. He missed your comebacks, your confidence, the way your brain seemed to understand his better than anyone else, better than he knew his own.

He slowly walked behind you, so close that you could feel his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. He only looked at you through the mirror in front of you, feeling like, at some point, this would help him keep his façade. He bore his poker and stern face while taking in your presence.

Gosh, how he wanted to pin you to that mirror and kiss you until your lips turn bloody red from how much he would bite them.

“Looking great here. Nice big ring too.” he said, the hot breath of his lips tickling your ear.

It was hard for you to ignore how fast your heart was beating, and the tension between the two of you. It was electric, deep, high. You hated the effect he had on you, how he would always manage to have you wrapped around his finger. How he could make you kneel in front of him, happily opening your mouth to welcome his hot length. How he could make you melt from the simplest of words.

How he could break your facade, break your heart and confidence under a minute.

Your eyes met through the mirror, and that’s when you noticed his new scar. It hurt, knowing that you did not have the opportunity to mend his wounds and see his progress.

“I can’t say the same for you.” You lied, breaking the eye contact by focusing on removing the earrings you had just put on.

Zoro laughed, never looking away. He agreed: beside you, he looked like a picturesque character. You were the epitome of beauty, an ethereal image. If he were Sanji, he would have probably died on the spot.

Your eyes met again.

“You could have told me you were getting married. I had the right to-“

“How dare you?” you cut him mid-sentence, turning around to face him. His new built caught you off guard, but you didn’t let that stop you from finally, cutting the air.

“Zoro you better not finish that sentence. You have no right whatsoever to know a thing about my life. Not after what you did.” You explained, clear annoyance and a hint of hurt in your voice.

“Oh, is that how it is? How it’s going to be, (Y/N)? Of course you should have told me ! How dare you not tell me?” Zoro responded, mad, stubborn, scratched. “You can’t just get married, with this creep, and believe that I don’t have MY say in this? Or are you stupid?!” he continued, not noticing he started yelling.

You slightly pushed him away to get behind him, clearly needing the space. And he was surprised he let you push him, following your movements, wondering what your dress would feel like under his touch. He stared at your dress, your bosom and the way the corset enhanced the roundness of your boobs.

He wanted to eat them out right now and tear this corset apart.

“Oh you’re the stupid one here! Zoro you cannot expect me to tell you a thing about my love life, or anything about my life for that matter, when you walked away, in the middle of the night, saying your dream was more important, right after making love to me, and leaving to the sea without as much as a note?!” you stated, yelling the last words.

“It was not the right time for us and you know it! Come on, don’t act like I forced my decision on you. You know it was the best choice.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, walking closer to him, closing the distance between the two of you to state your thoughts loud and clear. You shook your head, gathering your thoughts after Zoro’s unreasonable rambling.

“Let me ask you. What do you call someone leaving in the middle of the night, saying how his dream is more important than the night he just spent with who he called to be the love of his life, while the later cried her heart out? Do you call that a consensual decision? A mature talk? Enlighten me, Roronoa Zoro. Please, enlighten me.”

Zoro just dived into your eyes at your words. Enlighten me. The words echoed in his ears, and for a couple of seconds his brain just stopped working. Noticing his lack of response, you sighed, trying to walk past him to finally put your veil on.

But this time, he did not let you past him.

Zoro grabbed your hips and looked into your eyes before diving in and kiss you. The taste of his lips surprised you, they seemed more mature, but still as soft as they were that night. With Zoro invading your space, it was hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to resist breaking the tension lingering after all these years. Before he could slide his tongue pass your lips, you pulled back, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, whispering, afraid the universe might hear you;

“What are you doing?”

“Enlightening you.” he whispered with a smirk, his breath tickling your lips.

And these words were enough to send all senses of hurt, bitterness and ache to hell. You let him kiss you, putting your hands on his arms as he kept a firm grip on your hips. He kissed you hard, feral. His tongue parted your lips, twirling around yours as he let out a deep groan. He has been waiting for this for years, and feeling your lips respond to his sent him to heaven. He could not help but let his hands glide to your ass and give it a light squeeze, making you yelp. Your reaction made him laugh, a small, intimate laugh only you could hear.

You slowly pulled away to catch your breath, and he took the opportunity to tell you what he really meant to say before rambling the selfish nonsense he let out.

“Don’t marry him. Come with me.” He whispered, his lips meeting the side of your neck, using his tongue to tickle the soft spots he never forgot: your submaxillary triangle, your trapezius.

“What are you talking about?” you responded, still a little out of breath, and mostly, distracted by his shenanigans.

“You got me baby, loud and clear.”

The dress started to bother him, and he took the opportunity to tear the bottom to the side, creating a slit on your left leg, taking advantage of it to massage your thighs and groping your ass once more, with more force and determination. He tapped your ass, a small gesture to wrap your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the mirror.

And when your legs tightened around his waist, he knew your answer.

And so he did not waste any time anymore. He massaged your breasts through the corset of your white dress, admiring how your boobs threatened to escape only for him to lick at your buds, cupping them in between his large hands. Your hands fell into his mossy green hair, slightly pulling on the ends as his tongue danced around your clavicles.

Being the skillful swordsman he is, and having experience with his mouth and hands, his left hand went under your dress, thanks to the slit he made, so he could play with your clothed cunt, feeling its wetness forming. There are so much things he wished to say at that moment, but the way his erection irritated his pants kept him from uttering the slightest of word. And knowing him like the back of your hand, you let out a small laugh.

“Are your pants too small to contain your little friend here?”

“If you call it little then I really should jog your memory.”

With that, he pushed you against the cold mirror surface a little harder so he could unzip his pants, letting his length sprung free against the white silk.

“Be careful, you might tarnish it you idiot!”

“Like you and I care.” he proudly stated, sliding his hand under your dress and pushing his index into your cunt, while rubbing circle on your clit. He never took his eyes off you, appreciating every little of your reactions, bearing your face into his memory.

“Gosh, I missed the feeling of your pussy around my fingers, you know that right?” he desperately uttered, feeling his already hard cock getting harder. “Gosh (Y/N), I missed everything about you.” he added, pumping harder, adding another finger into your pussy, your moans getting louder and lewder.

“And I missed the feeling of your cock, Zo’..” you whimpered, a dark light sparkling in his eye as he heard your plea.

“Well you won’t miss it anymore sweatheart.” he said, removing his fingers out of your cunt and pushing up your dress some more, so he could set your white lace panty aside and slide into you.

“Hmmpf!” you whimpered in extasy, the simple feeling of his cock stretching your tight cunt already answering your needs. He waited for you to adjust and looked at you, his eyes pleading for consent. Once you nodded and gave him a soft, intimate smile, Zoro started pounding into you at a feral pace. His nails dug into your thighs and ass as he held you tight, pumping his thick cock into your warmth. You threw your head back on the cold mirror surface as you tried to keep some sense into you, tears forming in your eyes from how passionate your partner was.

“G-Gosh (Y/N), you’re still taking me so well… completely m-made for me..” Zoro managed to say, as he could feel your pussy tightening around his shaft. This felt so real, so much better than in his memories.

“Please k-keep going!” you plead, only for him to hold you tighter, spanking your ass in the process.

“I’ll k-keep only if you answer my question.” He said, slowing his thrusts, going excruciatingly slow, torturing the both of you.

But he needed to know.

“Are you coming with me to the sea?”

He stared into your eyes for as long as he could, trying to determine what went on in your head.

“Zoro..”

He thrusted hard into you, looking at you again.

“Answer me.”

He thrusted harder, his eye never leaving your beautiful face.

“I..”

He thrusted harder, so hard you swore you could feel it in your guts.

“(Y/N). You love me. I love you. Come with me.”

“Y-Yes for God’s sake I’ll c-come with you!” you cried, only for him to smile in pride and thrust into you without anything as a break. He felt ecstatic and tried his best hiding his smile into your neck, giving it sloppy kisses before giving you one more passionate kiss as you both came together, your dress a total mess, both your bodies a sweaty mess, but a loving one at best.

He looked at you and saw the smile he waited to see for so long. He gently put your legs to the ground as he looked through his pocket.

“Don’t tell me you’re looking for a condom now that we’re just done” you muttered, earning an eye-roll from the swordman.

“I’m looking for the ring I got you, dumbass.” he bluntly stated, pulling the ring out of his pocket before putting it in your hands.

“Let me take off this ugly ass ring so I can give you mine.” He said and you let him have his way, gently laughing at his usual stubbornness. He slid his ring on your finger with a prideful and loving look, trying to conceal his blush by looking away.

“So, what’s the plan now Zo?” you asked, gazing into his good eye with more love than you thought ever existed.

“There’s none. We’ve got all the time in the world.” he responded, kissing your left hand before he heard a familiar ruckus down the hall, curtesy of his captain.

“I promise you’ll get used to it.” he shyly said as he held your hand tight, definitely not letting go, love wins all, after all.

[queenothegeeks]

Awkward creator Drabble

Awkward creator drabbles part 2 

If you have any ideas for characters you want to see, put it in the comments, or send in an ask. (Warning, this was written before Arlecchinos release, so pls be nice.)

After arriving in Teyvat, you had gotten swarmed with letters asking you (the creator) to come to everything under the sun. Plays, meetings, weddings, requests from all sorts of nobel and rich people, but you always declined. Not only because you knew you would freak out and be awkward, but because you didn’t feel like you would fit into that high-end and stuffy air, where everyone is trying to outdo one another, whether it be with their outfits, their hair, their gold and gems, and their property. But what happens when you get a letter you can’t refuse? 

*Arlecchino edition*

When you got a letter that was sealed with the familiar mark of the Fatui, your heart skipped a beat. Up until now, everything had all been from people you didn’t know, and therefore, in your mind, were not powerful enough or important enough to care about going to meet with them. But Fatui, as you know, was not someone you should ignore. But, instead of a message requesting a fight from Childe or a meeting request from the Tsaritsa herself, it was a mere invitation to a tea party the Knave was holding. 

Deciding to respond, you picked up your quill (you still didnt know how to use it properly), you wrote a letter back to the knave, hoping it sounded professional enough, accepting her invite, and detailing how excited you were, while also asking if there would be any others attending that you should be aware of, and if there was a dress code (god forbid you show up in sweatpants to a formal event). 

A few days later, you got a letter back. It stated that you should “wear whatever felt comfortable” (whatever that means) and that it would be just the two of you, along with a few guards, though they were mostly going to be there for show. Obviously, you took “dress comfortably” as a “you must not have a hair out of place” and panicked slightly, worrying about what to wear. After tearing your closet apart, a mental breakdown or two, and a one way therapy session with a stuffed animal a random kid had given you, you set out.

 (Imagine whatever outfit you want, bc i want to remain gn and be comfortable for everyone) 

When you arrived, your jaw hit the floor. “A simple gathering” my foot! You suddenly felt very self conscious, picking at your outfit and nails, feeling out of place. You were led in by a masked guard, who brought you to a room with 2 massive couches, and more food than you could reasonably eat on a table in between them.

“The knave will be here shortly. She thanks you in advance for your patience, she is merely checking the perimeter of the building. Enjoy your tea party” 

They said, quickly leaving the room, presumably to return to their place guarding the building. 

“Thanks, you too!”

Realizing what you said, you were suddenly very glad they left as fast as they did. After waiting for a little while, Arlecchino walked in, not a hair out of place, walking with purpose.

“Thank you for waiting for your grace. I had some…issues that needed to be taken care of.”

“It's not a problem at all!” 

You quickly interjected.

“Pardon my question, but was there a specific reason you wished to meet with me?”

“Do I need a reason to speak with the creator, and thank them for all they have done for this world? Or a reason to hopefully make an alliance?” She said,

“Nononono- not at all. It was just because I know back where I’m from, you would use tea time as a way to get important information across. With the prophecy approaching and everything, I was wondering if that's why you called upon me.” 

“You would be correct. I’ll admit, I was a bit surprised you agreed to meet with me, considering you haven’t met with anyone else, no matter how important.”

You tensed a bit, not liking her tone. It wasn’t threatening, but it seemed like she knew more about you than the fact you hadn’t met with other people. Wait a minute…how did she know that?

“How did you know that?”

“Know what?”

“You said I haven't met anyone else. You aren’t wrong, I haven’t. But the public doesn’t know that. In fact, one glance at any newspaper, and it's boasting about how “the creator themself was there”.  

You started to ramble, your brain not worrying about being high end or fancy. The only thing on your mind was piecing together the information, just like how you would whenever a new genshin trailer or quest would come out. 

“The only way you would have the truth would be if you were hella good at catching someone in a lie or just calling bs, which I know you are, or that you assigned people to watch me, which, using the information I have about you based on stuff from my world, wouldn’t be that far off. The House of the Hearth is very versatile, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to say you could implant your children, and- you're smiling.” 

“I didn’t truly know if you hadn’t met with anyone else. I was mostly seeing if you would reveal any information about these nobel’s if you had, if you were any good at lying that you had or hadn't gone, or, seeing if you would reveal things you knew about me, thereby showing the extent of your knowledge about this world and its people. Now, back to the topic from before, now that I know you are aware of who I am, tell me, what's going to happen to Fontaine, and how do I save it?”

Oh sh*t. 

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝘣𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘵. 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢

jess mariano x reader

genre; fluff

word count; 896

summary; jess annotates a book for reader and then proceeds to rethink every decision he’s ever made.

warnings; reader is described to be a fast reader, images found on pinterest, gn reader, not proofread

reader pov

I had stopped by at Luke’s Diner to grab a coffee and have a small chat with Jess in the morning. He described a book he had recently read, saying it had been turned into a movie that disrespected the name.

“It’s so bad. Like, they changed multiple events and even one of the characters names. Don’t forget how everyone interacts with each other… it basically just shares the same name as the book is all.”

It was interesting seeing how frustrated he got about it, and I smiled at him.

“What book is this?”

His eyes widen a tad as he realizes he didn’t even say.

“I Know What You Did Last Summer. Lois Duncan.”

I nod, interested. I’d heard of the movie before, I think, in passing from my best friend. She and her mother watch a lot of things together, this might’ve been one she talked about.

“Did you like the book?”

I take a sip from my coffee, allowing the warmth of the drink to wake me up a bit more.

“Yeah, it was good. I annotated it as I read, if you want to borrow it.”

I smile at the offer, nodding along.

“I’d like that.”

And so here I sit, comfortably on my bed as I read the book. Jess’s annotations were always interesting. He didn’t only look at suspicious details in the story, he also had a soft spot for some of the romantic moments. It made me smile whenever I saw one, that goof.

The book was good, as he had said it was. I knew that Jess had written his full thoughts in the very back, so once I finished, I took everything in to form my opinions. I then open to the back to compare.

I didn’t expect a small folded paper to fall out. A little ‘huh’ escapes from my lips as I unfold it, reading it. I almost laugh at the simplicity of it. A note saying ‘Will you go on a date with me?’ with two boxes, one for yes and one for no. I snort in amusement, before placing it beside me to read his thoughts.

They were agreeable. It was well written and the. characters were developed. Barry was an asshole and Ray came off kinda creepy during some parts of the book.

Once I finish reading his thoughts, I turn my attention back to the note. I pick it up and walk to my desk, grabbing a pen. I checkmark the yes box and slide the note back into the book, knowing I’ll drop it off before dinner.

jess pov

What was I thinking.

Metallica pulses through the air as I stare at the ceiling. I’m lying on the floor as I collect my thoughts. I just asked out Y/n, and in probably the most stupid way possible.

What else can I do, I guess? And it’s too late anyways, they’re bound to have seen it by now.

Perhaps it isn’t the end of the world. If they say no, I’ll lose a close friend, but I’ll survive. Maybe I’ll be regretting who I am for a while, but I’ll survive.

The notes of Nothing Else Matters ring in my ears like a bell. I hum along faintly, occupying myself from my thoughts.

I pick myself up when there’s a knock on my bedroom door.

“Yes?”

Luke pops his head in, looking at me with tired eyes.

“C’mon. Dinner rush about to come in.”

And so I turn off my CD player and trudge down to the diner, ready to serve the rush. I head to the counter like my uncle asks me to and take peoples orders, scribbling in the notepad and dismissing them to a table. I hand the notepad to Luke to take to whoever’s cooking and repeat the process who knows how many times, when my attention is grabbed by a familiar face entering the diner.

Y/n approaches the counter with a friendly smile, brandishing my copy of I Know What You Did Last Summer. They place it on the counter, and I take it into my hands.

“Thoughts?”

I watch them lean against the counter and think for a moment.

“Well, I thought it was good. Barry was terrible to Helen, Ray was kinda freaky, Julie’s mom was a real one, some of the scenes were cool. The gunshot during the fireworks show was clever, I liked that. A crazed brother is a little silly, I wonder what happened to poor Megan. I feel bad for the parents of the little boy. I liked Helen but thought she was a little dim for not realizing what Barry was up to. His mom was annoying. I also like how you annotate books, by the way. Seeing your thought process is really interesting while I’m having my own, y’know?”

Y/n finishes, looking at me. Their look is knowing, so I know they read the note. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I wonder what they’ll say, if anything. The silence that follows what they say is awkward.

And then, “I’ll go out with you.”

They hand me the note, and I see that they checked off the yes box. I look up and see them smiling at me. I give a small smile back.

Maybe it wasn’t a mistake after all.

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / three / masterlist / wattpad

summary: after you step in to defend Jackie against one of her boyfriend's sleazy friends, you realise helping the popular girl and starting beef with a jock has its consequences.

warnings: mentions of sexual assault, minor violence and underage drinking.

author's note: i keep getting people asking about posting more jackie stuff so i’m happy to share yet another fic! it’s three parts and it’s the last thing for now that i’ve written for her, so i hope you all like it 🥰

I collapsed on the grass outside, breathing out with relief once the fresh night air cooled me down and the music from inside wasn't so loud anymore. How I'd let Van convince me to attend a house party was beyond me, but as my best friend, she usually got her way.

Tonight though, I may have gotten a little carried away and drank more than usual, feeling somewhat lightheaded and lazy. Drunk me wasn't so fun, so I'd come outside to cool off and catch myself, away from the compact house of some jock I didn't know.

As I relaxed, trying to tune out the few teens that were milling around the front lawn, I heard a commotion by the front door. Some couple were arguing, their voices familiar as they left the house and grew louder.

"–can't just check out other girls right in front of me!"

"I wasn't! God, you're overreacting, Jackie, you always do this!"

I sat upright, pushing my hair from my eyes as I glanced in the direction of Van's soccer teammate and the most popular girl in our grade, Jackie Taylor, arguing with her boyfriend, Jeff Sadecki.

The last thing I cared about was their relationship troubles, but they were so damn loud and I was suddenly entertained by their back and forth. From what I could gather in my drunken state, Jeff had been distracted by some girls, flirting with one of them, but didn't deem it flirting like Jackie did.

"–just forget it, we're over!" Jackie shouted at him, throwing her cup on the grass with frustration.

Jeff scoffed. "Whatever. I don't need this."

He returned to the house as Jackie clenched her jaw, still angry. She fumbled for a cigarette and lighter from her purse with irritation, her clumsy hands betraying how much she'd drank tonight too. Thoughtlessly watching, I saw one of Jeff's friends, Leroy something-or-the-other, trail out the house and approach her.

Not shouting like Jeff and Jackie had been a moment ago, the two of them were talking and I couldn't hear their conversation. Or rather Leroy was chatting up Jackie and she was visibly uncomfortable, attempting to step back. He began to get touchy though, his hands grabbing her arm, and whether it was a sense of female camaraderie or my absolutely stupid alcohol-soaked brain, I felt the need to intervene.

Dragging myself up off the grass, I stumbled over to them and fixed Leroy with a glare.

"She clearly doesn't want you here," I said in what I hoped wasn't a babble of English.

"Back off, bitch," Leroy sneered at me, before stepping closer to Jackie and letting his hand slip to her butt.

Jackie jumped at his unwanted touch, hazel eyes widened with panic, and without thinking, I made a swing at Leroy's face, fist connecting with his nose in a sickening crack.

A groan escaped my lips as I grasped my hand – what the fuck was his face made of?! – and then I realised what I did as he stumbled back, clutching his face. I saw a glimpse of blood, and then Jackie's widened eyes looked between us, and I knew I was fucked.

"You little bitch!" he shouted, before making a sloppy swing at my head, to which I thankfully still had the instinct to duck away from.

Not ready to finish this fight I definitely didn't mean to start, I shoved him back to buy time then grabbed Jackie's hand, telling her quickly, "Time to go!"

Thankfully she got the hint and I yanked her away, the two of us running as fast as we could. Leroy chased after us and I risked glancing over my shoulder, watching him trip over his own feet and buying us enough time to leg it down the street.

"Here," I said breathlessly, pulling Jackie down behind a car.

The two of us practically held our breath as we kneeled down, frozen in place. I didn't doubt that Leroy would kill me, and her by association, and I began to wonder how I'd even ended up in this situation.

Jackie risked glancing around the back of the car before sighing with relief. "He's not following us."

Mirroring her sigh, I turned around and sank to the ground fully, back against the car. She joined my side, both of us reeling from what happened. I glanced down at my hand, aware that it should be hurting but not quite registering the pain. It was distant, the alcohol fogging my mind.

"What the hell was that?" Jackie asked, reminding me she was there.

Dazed, I tilted my head and stared at the road. "That wasn't your boyfriend, was it? I can't remember."

She let out a breath before giggling. "No. That was my ex-boyfriend's idiot friend."

Making sense of it all again, I nodded. "Right. Yeah. What a dick."

"Yeah," she agreed.

Feeling hot and a little dizzy, I tried to focus on the present and looked over at her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her curled blonde hair bouncing as she did. "Yeah. Thanks to you." Hazel eyes flickered to mine in gratitude, and I could only shrug in response.

A silence fell upon us for a moment, and I suddenly became aware of how this was probably the most I'd ever spoken to Jackie Taylor in my life. We'd been in the same class since we were kids, and despite her being on the same soccer team as Van, there had never been need for us to converse. Until now, I guess.

"I feel sick," she suddenly said, and I noticed her face was a little pale.

"Then throw up," I said tiredly.

She scrunched her face with disgust, shaking her head. I shrugged, not caring, and then she leaned to the left and threw up a little. I pulled a face as she straightened up lazily, wiping her mouth.

"I've gotta go home," she said.

I checked my watch, but it did nothing to help because the hands were moving in all sorts of directions. "Same. I think."

She began to snicker, glancing sideways at me. "Leroy just might kill you."

A little delusional and finding her amusement contagious, I began to laugh. Leroy probably would, but right now, I couldn't care less.

She lifted a finger in the air with realisation. "Shauna," she exclaimed. "She'll drive."

"I can't leave Van," I remembered, as she stood up and yanked me up with her.

"I'll go get her," she promised, already tugging me back to the house, where Shauna's car was parked out front. "Don't move."

I saluted clumsily, waiting by Shauna's car and almost falling asleep against the door as Jackie seemed to take years to return. Finally, her, Van and Shauna all came back, Van shooting me an amused glance as she helped me off the door.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked with a stifled laugh. "Jackie said you punched Leroy?"

I waved a dismissive hand. "Barely."

She definitely wanted to know more but thankfully kept quiet as she helped me into the backseat, sliding in beside me.

"You two are gonna regret this in the morning," Shauna was saying from the driver's seat, but it went in one ear and out the other.

I vaguely remembered Shauna dropping me off home and Van helping me into my bedroom later that evening before passing out.

The next morning, my hangover hit me hard, but not harder than the pain from my broken knuckle. After waking up with a purple right hand, terrible memories from the night before reminded me of what I'd done, and after accepting that Leroy was going to kill me at some point, I went to the hospital with my mum who didn't seem to believe I'd punched a wall whilst drunk. Still, leaving with a splint and cast on my hand was worth it if it meant stopping some jerk from getting handsy.

School on the following Monday was definitely something to dread, mainly because I wasn't sure what would happen. Of course, after getting some stares off other students – word had undoubtedly spread about the incident – I stopped by my locker and was mildly surprised to see the word 'BITCH' scribbled in permanent marker pen across it.

"Lovely," I said sarcastically, before ignoring it, not wanting to give bystanders a show.

I opened it as usual and put my skateboard inside, mindful of my hand, when I felt someone bump into me from behind on purpose. I clenched my jaw when I turned and saw it was Leroy walking past, a bandage across his nose.

"Bitch," he muttered with bitterness.

"Yours truly." I returned his glare, before looking back to my locker.

If he was going to hate on me for stepping in as he sexually assaulted a girl, then let him. I'd never liked him anyway, the worst of Jeff's idiot friends. But hey, at least I'd broken his nose.

I'd like to say it ended there, but not even a moment later, his girlfriend whom I'd forgotten existed until she appeared by my side with a threatening glare, decided to defend his stupid arse.

"You better back off," she attempted to warn me. "I know it was you who broke his nose."

I quirked a brow with disbelief. "Do you know why?"

She scoffed. "Because you're a bitch."

I furrowed my brows, wondering if she was choosing to be this dense. "Tiffany, your arsehole boyfriend groped another girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Like I'd believe you."

I snorted with amusement. "Fine. Don't. I really don't care."

She stepped closer to me with narrowed eyes. "Stay the fuck away from us, bitch."

I rolled my eyes as she left, wondering how I'd managed to make so many enemies in the space of one night. Unfazed though, I continued to grab some books from my locker and ignored the looks I was getting from students with nothing better to do. This would all blow over in a few days, I just knew it.

When I closed my locker, I jumped, startled, when I saw Jackie stood behind it.

"Jesus," I said, clutching my chest. "A warning would be nice."

"Sorry," she said awkwardly, before her eyes fell to the cast on my hand and widened slightly. "Fuck."

"Hi to you too," I replied sarcastically.

She shook her head apologetically before meeting my gaze. "Friday night. That was... a lot."

I nodded, just as uncomfortable as she sounded. "Uh huh."

She pursed her lips, glancing at my graffiti'd locker. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. But I'm thankful for your help. You really showed him."

Not wanting her to feel bad, I tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, his brick head kind of broke my knuckle, but it was totally worth it."

She cracked a small smile, eyes flickering to my hand again. "Sorry."

I shrugged her apology off easily. "Seriously, Jackie, you don't need to say anything. Honestly, we were both drunk and I probably could have handled the situation better, but what's done is done. We're good."

She relaxed a little, nodding in agreement, though I couldn't tell if she was satisfied by my response. When she didn't say anything, I held my books to my chest awkwardly.

"So... see you in class," I said.

"Right," she agreed, and then we both turned to walk to class, only to fall into step with one another. "Same class," she mumbled when she noticed, and I tried not to laugh.

"Same class," I agreed, and a silence fell between us as we reached the classroom.

After exchanging a final glance, we split off to our seats, her joining Shauna's side as I found my usual spot next to Van. When she spotted me, she was already laughing at the sight of my bandaged hand.

"I can't believe you punched him," she said instantly, making me roll my eyes.

"Glad this is funny to you," I said playfully, giving her a disapproving look.

She continued to tease me. "I leave you alone for five minutes, Y/N! God, I wish I could've seen it. Everybody's talking about it. Apparently you broke Leroy's nose."

"Something like that," I mumbled as she laughed with amazement.

She continued to ramble about what people had been saying, enjoying how awkward I was at the attention, and I let my eyes wander around the classroom as I tried to tune her out. They subconsciously drifted to Jackie, who was listening to something Shauna was saying to her, and then she glanced at me and I quickly looked away, embarrassed I'd been caught.

—

I was relieved to see that the graffiti on my locker had been scrubbed off (terribly, but I wasn't complaining) by the cleaners last night, as when I showed up to school the next morning, it was gone. My headphones were on as I replaced my books for the morning, mindlessly getting ready for homeroom.

There was nothing out of the ordinary as I did, my eyes glancing around casually, and then I saw Jackie a little ways down the hall, leaning against the lockers with her apparently-not-so-ex-boyfriend, Jeff. I couldn't care less, but she must have felt my eyes as she awkwardly made eye contact, smile fading slightly, and I looked away. Whether she was back with Jeff or not wasn't my business – she was barely a friend, let alone someone whose relationship I cared for – but it felt strange knowing she would choose to go back to him after everything that had happened.

Once I'd grabbed my books, I pulled my headphones off and stuffed them and my walkman into my backpack. I was forced to walk past a flirtatious Jackie and Jeff, eyes trained ahead, and tried not to think much more on it as I went to homeroom.

I settled at my desk, flicking through my English book when I saw Van wasn't here yet, and began to look over my homework a final time before next period. In my own world, I was startled when someone appeared at my desk, looking up to see Jackie stood there.

"Er... hi?" I greeted with a quirked brow.

She swallowed awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. "What you saw just then, with Jeff and I..."

When she didn't continue, I pressed, "What?"

"It's not like it seems," she finished, cheeks tinged pink.

I wasn't sure why she felt the need to explain herself to me of all people, but I answered, "What, that you're back together?"

She pressed her lips together, nodding slightly.

Tilting my head and playing along, I asked, "Well, are you?"

She cleared her throat. "Well, yeah, but–"

"Cool," I cut her off, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "It's none of my business."

She scoffed slightly. "Yeah, but you're gonna think I'm being stupid after everything that happened–"

Growing tired of this conversation, I said, "Being stupid? You think I think it's stupid that your boyfriend was flirting with other girls and then his friend sexually assaulted you and you're still going back to him?" I tutted sarcastically. "Nah, not stupid at all."

She tensed her jaw slightly, clutching her books to her chest. "It's not like that."

I raised my eyebrows. "Then why are you telling me? You've never cared what I thought before."

She let out a low groan, having no reply, and simply walked away to her seat. Okay, so maybe I was being a little harsh, but it was just odd that she suddenly cared what I thought. And yes, I was judging her terrible life choices, but it wasn't my business.

It didn't matter anyway. I wasn't expecting this to be much of a problem now that she'd (terribly) explained herself to me.

—

Maybe I underestimated how long jocks could hold grudges for, or maybe I was just stupid for not knowing Leroy would never let things go. All I knew was that my one punch was never letting me live it down, nor letting me go back to being just acquaintances with Jackie Taylor.

About a week after Jackie felt the need to explain her getting back together with Jeff, I was skateboarding home from school like I always did. The crossing on the road was clear, so I started to ride across, headphones on my head as I did. I saw a car in my peripheral vision, but it was further down the road and they could obviously see me, so I thought nothing of it.

That was until it suddenly beeped and stopped right next to me, scaring the shit out of me and making my foot catch the ground, my skateboard slipping out from under me. Heart racing in my chest, I pulled my headphones from my head and sat up, just in time to hear a voice I definitely didn't want to.

"Watch out, loser!"

I looked to my left to see Jeff and Leroy laughing in Jeff's car, impressed with themselves and their ability to startle me. But the real frustration kicked in when I saw Jackie sat in the passenger's seat, flushed red with embarrassment and guilt as she glanced at me. Why was I not surprised?

Clenching my jaw, I stood up and ignored their laughter, instead grabbing my skateboard and finishing crossing the road. They beeped again as they drove off, but I didn't bother sparing them a glance.

My opinion on Jackie Taylor up until this point was practically nonexistent. In my eyes, she was just some popular girl in school who was nice enough to everyone, kind to my best friend who happened to be on the same soccer team as her, and that was it. We rarely crossed paths or spoke, and I'd never thought about her other than if she was right in front of me.

Now, however, she seemed to be in my life a lot more because of one stupid night, and I found my opinion of her worsening as I judged her poor choice of boyfriend and those she surrounded herself with.

The next day at school, almost to my amusement if I wasn't so irritated by everything that had happened, Jackie found me in homeroom at my desk again. I had a strong sense of deja vu as she hovered before me, uncharacteristically nervous.

"Hey," she spoke first.

I blinked, expressionless, definitely not in the mood for this. "Hi."

It took her a moment to find her words, in which I was growing a little more annoyed by her apparent innocence.

"Yesterday...," she started, "I didn't mean for–"

"What?" I interrupted. "Your jackass boyfriend and his jackass friend to act like jackasses?"

She sighed. "Yeah."

Was she always this irritating? I couldn't remember anymore.

"It's cool, Jackie," I decided to end the conversation, afraid I'd say something I'd regret. "I didn't expect anything less from tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber."

I looked back down to my notebook, hoping she'd leave and we could be done with our lives, but she felt the need to keep going.

"He's not always like that," she said gently. "I swear, he–"

"Did you come here just to defend him?" I asked with surprise. "Because I don't wanna hear it."

She frowned, irritable. "No, I just– I wanted you to know that."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Great apology. Thanks."

Clenching her jaw slightly, she said, "If you gave me a chance to speak, I'd say it."

"Whatever," I mumbled, rolling my eyes and returning my attention to my book.

She huffed with disapproval, making me glance at her with a slight glare. Her playing innocent game was getting old.

"FYI, if you're dating a jackass, that kinda makes you one too," I reminded her when she didn't leave.

She returned my glare before turning on her heel and leaving for her desk. Van soon showed up, taking her seat beside me but noticing the blonde leaving.

"Jackie still on you about your hand?" she asked with amusement. "I keep telling her to get over it, that you're okay. But she feels bad."

I rolled my eyes at the mention of her. "Can't feel that bad if she's still hanging around with douche one and douche two."

Taken aback, Van gave me a look. "Woah, who shit in your cereal this morning?"

I shook my head dismissively, releasing a breath. "Sorry. Nothing. Just tired, I guess."

She clearly didn't believe me, and when I looked up at her, I saw her glancing over to where Jackie was sat, but I refused to look that way. Van smiled in that direction though, greeting her teammate, before giving me a confused look.

"Did you guys fight or something? She looks like you kicked her dog."

"No," I said with mild irritation, before facing forward. "Can we drop this?"

Van chuckled quietly. "Sure, weirdo."

—

Later that day, I was staring out the window in Chemistry class whilst I waited for other students to make their way in and for class to start. When I felt a presence beside me, I assumed it was my lab partner, Dennis, and straightened up to greet him with a smile, but then I saw it was Jackie placing her bag on the desk and pulling out the stool.

"The hell are you doing?" I asked with furrowed brows, watching as she got comfortable. "Dennis sits there."

"Not today he doesn't," she said knowingly, before waving a hand to Dennis who waved some cash in the air with gratitude.

I dropped my jaw with disbelief. "You paid him?"

She turned to face me, her honey-coloured eyes meeting mine guiltily. "I want to say sorry for real. The only reason you're getting all this aggression from Leroy is because you stuck up for me."

I gave her a sarky look. "Kind of, yeah."

She sighed, rolling her shoulders back. "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't even want Leroy there yesterday, but he needed a ride home and Jeff said yeah. It's no excuse though."

I pressed my lips together, eyes studying her straight face curiously. There was a hint of sincerity somewhere there, and maybe finally putting this to bed would bring things back to normal. But then a smile grew on her lips and any chance of forgiving her went out the window.

"This doesn't make me a jackass now, does it?"

I lifted my brows with disbelief, her pride frustrating me. "Wow. Is that what this is about?"

She shook her head. "No. Of course not. But you should know that I'm not like that."

"Is the only reason you're apologising to change the way I view you?"

Again, she shook her head nonchalantly, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Maybe she was nice on the surface, but Jackie Taylor didn't seem genuine in the slightest.

"You know what? Fuck this," I told her, beginning to pack my books away. "I don't need to forgive you and I don't need your fake apologies or games. Just leave me alone. Things were a lot easier before I decided to be nice to you."

She watched me gather my things with bewilderment. "That's not fair."

I stood up and shot her an impatient look. "Whatever. You stick to your delusional princess land with your dick boyfriend and his friends and I'll stick to being a loser. Sound good?"

Her mouth opened with surprise, both offended and taken aback. "Y/N, just– where are you going?"

"To find my actual lab partner," I snapped, before moving past her to find Dennis.

I was beginning to think breaking my knuckle wasn't worth it. Getting involved with Jackie only seemed to bring me misfortune.

—

A few days passed with Jackie finally seeming to leave me alone. Don't get me wrong, I would occasionally catch her eyes in the hallway or in class, or sometimes she'd need to chat to Van about something and I'd awkwardly wait for her to finish before she'd leave, but she seemed to give up on bothering me with her half arsed apologies.

As for Leroy and his girlfriend, they clearly still held some sort of grudge for me, shooting me glares whenever they saw me. It got to a point where they seriously needed to get over themselves, though I guess that was hard when Leroy's broken nose was a constant reminder that he got decked in the face by a girl.

I was walking down the hallway when I resisted the urge to roll my eyes upon seeing Leroy and Tiffany walking in the opposite direction. I purposely avoided their gaze, not wanting to get into a confrontation with them, but Leroy purposely bumped into my shoulder with force, making me drop my books, and that was my last straw.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I exclaimed, before picking up my books.

"What did you just say?" Leroy stopped, turning around to fix me with a glare.

I clenched my jaw as I returned it twice as hostile. "You really need to grow up. Your big rock of a head is still in tact, so what's your problem? You think you'd get over this by now."

He looked like he wanted to punch me, but Tiffany stepped forward instead.

"Watch your mouth, bitch," she hissed, making me groan loudly with disbelief.

"He literally harassed another girl, and probably others too!" I reminded her. "Are you insane?!"

"Don't listen to her," Leroy said to her coolly. "She's just jealous."

"I know, baby, I know."

I laughed bitterly, looking between them like they were the world's strangest exhibit. Bystanders were starting to look at the three of us now, probably expecting a fight, but I seriously didn't care.

"You need to get a life and stay out of ours, loser," Leroy threatened me, fist clenching by his side.

"How fucking ironic," I said, shaking my head. "You're the one who won't get over yourself."

"You keep running that mouth of yours and I'll give you a broken nose," Tiffany attempted to threaten me, stepping forward, but she wasn't intimidating in the slightest. "You deserve it after hurting him."

I snorted with amusement. "I would love to see you try." When she squeezed her fists by her side, I glanced at her stupid boyfriend. "What? Can't fight your own battles, big man?"

Steam was practically leaving their ears as they glowered at me, and then the next events happened too quickly for me to make sense of.

Jackie came out of nowhere and stepped between Tiffany and I, saying, "Okay, how about we just–"

But Tiffany punched forward, aiming for me but Jackie got in the way at the same time and Tiffany's fist landed on her face. My eyes widened as Jackie stumbled back into me, clutching her nose, and both Tiffany and Leroy watched on with wide eyes.

"What the fuck?!" I shouted, before holding Jackie upright as I went to look over her face. When I moved her hand away slightly, there was blood streaming from her nose and I couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh my god!"

"What the hell, Jackie!" Tiffany cried out, holding her hand with pain.

"Are you kidding right now?!" Jackie retorted before wincing and holding her nose again, head tilted up to stop the bleeding.

"Okay, everyone move aside!" a teacher pushed through the crowd of entertained students surrounding us. When she spotted Jackie's bleeding nose, she said, "Miss Taylor, you need to go to the nurse's office–"

"I'll take her," I said quickly, before fixing Tiffany with a glare.

"You," the teacher continued, looking to Tiffany, "with me, now."

I didn't wait any longer to watch the death stares from Leroy and Tiffany, instead guiding Jackie to the nurse's office. I still couldn't believe she'd stepped in like that, and also that Tiffany had it in her to punch me. I didn't think she'd actually do it.

"Oh my god, it's running down my throat," Jackie whined with disgust, looking forward again. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Ssshhh, we're almost there," I cut her complaining off, though a large part of me felt extremely guilty.

When we reached the nurse's office, I immediately guided her to the bed to sit upright, whilst the nurse seemed to catch on and immediately jumped into action. I stood back and watched as the nurse gave her some gauze to hold to her nose.

"Is it broken?" Jackie asked with wet eyes, a little dramatically.

"No, dear, it's just a bloody nose," the nurse assured her, before glancing at me. "There's not much else I can do. Just keep changing the gauze and have her drink some water."

I nodded. "Will do. Thanks."

She offered a smile before heading to the other side of the room to finish helping out another student. I watched her leave before joining Jackie's bedside and looking to her with disbelief.

"What the fuck was that?!" I asked.

She moved the gauze so it wasn't blocking her mouth and motioned to her face. "I was trying to stop this from happening."

"A little fucking late," I said sarcastically.

"I figured," she snapped, before her face scrunched up with pain and she closed her eyes momentarily.

My jaw slowly relaxed as I really took the state of her in. The guilt pressed down on my chest – this wasn't her fight and she was certainly not the type of girl to get into one in the first place. Seeing her bloody nose and stained shirt was like seeing a puppy get kicked, and my irritation definitely wasn't helping.

"You shouldn't have got involved," I said with a sigh, sitting at the edge of her bed.

She opened her eyes, bright hazel ones swimming with guilt. "I just wanted to make things right. Show you that I really am sorry. It's not about how you view me and it's not a game. I'm just sorry."

Unlike the last time, she seemed genuine with her apology, and paired with her puppy dog eyes and bloody nose, it was hard for me not to give in.

"Fuck, fine, I forgive you," I breathed out.

She began to smile with relief before leaning back slightly. I frowned, eyes flickering over her guiltily, before I grabbed the spare gauze at her bedside and gently replaced the one in her hand.

"It looks like it's stopping," I said, disposing of the bloody gauze. "God, you're insane."

"It fucking hurts," she cursed, grimacing.

I tried not to smile as I wet a cloth in the bowl beside her bed. "It was barely a real punch. Tiffany's hand took most of the damage."

She narrowed her eyes at me as I began to wipe the dried-up blood from her nose and mouth with the wet cloth. "Tell that to my face."

A small smile of amusement broke out on my lips. "This was stupid, Jackie."

She sighed, removing the gauze so I could clean around her nostrils. "Probably."

The bridge of her nose was a little swollen and bright red, but at least the bleeding had stopped. God, as if Jackie Taylor got punched in the face for me. I literally never could have predicted that.

Once I cleaned her up, the nurse returned to give her some painkillers and an ice pack before making arrangements for her to be picked up from school.

"I'm sorry, I'd drive you home myself, but I don't have a car," I said with an apologetic smile.

She shook her head. "It's okay. You already stayed with me longer than you needed to. I'm just glad things are good between us again."

I exhaled softly, surprised that she cared this much. We were indifferent to one another, that was our thing. Whether it was because she felt she owed me after I broke my knuckle, or she was just trying to prove that she wasn't a bad person, I was left wondering why she was going through all this effort for a friendship that barely existed.

After she went home, it was easy to say that word of the fiasco spread around school like wildfire. Tiffany had been given a month of detention apparently, and I didn't see Leroy for the rest of the day, thankfully. Van found me after school, the two of us planning to walk home together, and that was where I debriefed her about everything that happened.

"Holy shit, what I would pay to see Jackie get decked in the face!" she exclaimed with a grin.

I quirked a brow. "Aren't you literally teammates?"

"Not in a mean way," she added quickly. "Like, it would still be funny though. Funnier if it was you, of course."

I shoved her in the arm with my good hand as she chuckled.

"I feel bad enough as it is, so no jokes," I warned her.

"Hey, it's not your fault," she assured me with a knowing look, before pausing and adding, "Though if someone says they're gonna punch you in the face, you probably shouldn't tell them you'd love to see them try."

I tried not to laugh as I shot her a look. "How was I supposed to know she'd actually do it?"

Van began to laugh again. "God, I wish I was there."

"You've only said a million times," I said with a disapproving stare, though a smile tugged at my lips.

Despite the jokes Van wouldn't stop making on the walk home, I still felt extremely guilty and couldn't stop thinking about poor Jackie. How our lives had become so intertwined in the space of two weeks was beyond me, but I suddenly felt responsible for her.

The next day at school, I saw her by her locker with Shauna before homeroom. Even from a distance, I could make out the slight swelling on her nose and it only deepened the guilt I felt. We'd technically resolved everything between us yesterday, but I felt the need to go over there and check on her to see how she was doing.

After dropping some stuff off at my locker, I went over to her and Shauna with a small smile. They noticed me and their conversation ceased, the two of them returning my smile with their own.

"Hey," Shauna greeted first.

I nodded her way before my eyes settled on Jackie, and Shauna seemed to get the hint as she politely dismissed herself, leaving us alone.

"Hey," Jackie greeted warmly.

"Hi," I said, eyes scanning her face. "How's the–?" I gestured to my own nose as I asked.

"Hurts," she admitted with a small smile, "but I covered the bruising. It's still a little swollen, but it'll be fine."

I frowned guiltily when I noticed the extra makeup she'd used to cover the red-purple bruise that had formed on the bridge of her nose. She'd done a good job, but it was still peeking through a little bit.

"It's okay," she said when she noticed my expression, before lightheartedly nodding to my bandaged hand. "Consider us even."

That didn't make me feel better at all, and I shook my head. "It shouldn't have happened. As Van kindly pointed out to me, I egged Tiffany on and she was supposed to punch me. It's not the same thing as me stepping in to defend you."

Jackie rolled her eyes playfully. "It's okay, Y/N, really. Besides, maybe her and Leroy will finally back off now."

I hummed, partially agreeing, though I knew this was still my fault.

"By the way," she added, "I broke up with Jeff."

At this, I raised my eyebrows with surprise. "What?"

Her lips pressed together into a faint smile as she looked down. "Yeah, you were right about what you said. He and his friends are jackasses. And I can do a lot better."

I wasn't sure what to say at first, not expecting her to have actually listened to what I said. But then I nodded slightly, acknowledging her words.

"You can," I found myself saying. "Do a lot better, I mean."

She breathed out with amusement. "Thanks... anyway, I should get my things, but see you in class."

"Yeah, see you," I said, still a little shocked, but nodding nonetheless.

[panlight]

I agree with Renee getting worse thru the books. I think Charlie suffers from the same regression. In Twilight he comes off hands-off but loving. He buys Bella a truck, he's taken care of his parents, etc. By Eclipse he's too dumb to make pasta and highfiving Bella's assaulter. Of course many fans have headcanons on WHY. I still hold that Meyer just A. Wanted Bella to be a Super Mature Old Soul, and B. Wanted Bella to be "right" in defying Charlie later on in the books, among other reasons.

Right in Twilight I didn't think Charlie was actually that inept at caring for himself or his household, I just thought Bella was employing the same teenage hyperbole that she used in saying "haha I took over the bills when I was six" or whatever. But then as the books wore on, it was like, oh he literally doesn't know you can't put metal in the microwave???? How did this man take care of himself and his elderly parents??

There's an interesting divide in fandom, I think, between people who look at Bella's relationship with her parents in-universe or out of it. That is, there's a lot of people who really feel for Bella and see in her someone who was the victim of parentification and neglect. They see a child who was forced to grow up too fast to take care of her parents and feel a lot of sympathy for her and imagine how it has informed the choices she makes in the story.

Then there are folks who look at it from an out of universe perspective, which is close to what you're saying here: that SM wanted Bella to be an Old Soul and seem mature and she doesn't really need her parents and that's why things were written the way they are. That whether Renee is a good or bad mother isn't really the point; the point was Bella needed to go to Forks for the story to happen. SM wasn't really interested in exploring parentification or any of that, she just needed a way to make Bella seem more mature than the average teenager so her relationship with an 100-year-old 17-year-old works.

I don't think either one is better or more "right" than the other, and both can be true at the same time! I can only say that I was in the out of universe camp originally; I was just like, it's a YA story, of course the parents have to be kind of useless, and I didn't read much more into it than that. Like yeah Renee not showing up to graduation is weird, but I was like "Bella already visited Renee at the beginning of the book, I see why as a writer SM didn't see a point in More Renee." But I've seen a lot of really thoughtful meta about Bella as a parentified child and how that can explain things like why she can't empathize with Rosalie's desire for children, or Bella's low self-esteem, etc. Certainly I think Midnight Sun takes this more in-universe approach with Renee coming off even worse than she was before and Edward musing about how Bella feels like she has to be useful, has to be a caretake, has to earn her place in a family, etc.

But yeah I think that came later, for both Renee and Charlie, and originally it was just "I need kind of hand-off parents for my YA story" and then letting them be a little bit of comic relief: Charlie's useless cooking, Renee's frantic emails, etc. She meant them to be kind of funny and then over time it got darker.

[simp4wom3n]

The Quiet One Pt V

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary:With Ghostface closing in on them, Act 3 finally begins as everyone teams up to hopefully once and for all take them down. ~ Word Count: 9.8k ~ Warnings: descriptions of gory injuries, blood, and anything that comes with Scream, Scream VI spoliers!!, hella swearing

A/N: OMG HEY!!!! IM BACK!!! It has been such a ridiculously long time since I have written, and I'M SO SORRY. Life really got in the way for a while, but I am back. This fic is so damn long it took me ages, but I hope it's everything you guys wanted. I love you all! COME ON MOTHERF*CKER!!

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

Stepping onto the brisk streets of New York, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, painting a rosy hue on your nose and cheeks. The gentle breeze caressed your scar, providing needed relief to its subtle throbbing as you walked hand-in-hand with Tara, who was engrossed in conversation with her sister, while the rest of the group led the way to the station. Eyes scanning your surroundings hastily, your brain attempted to adjust to your new vision as you watched people walk past, utterly oblivious to the psycho that was tormenting their city.

You had never been more jealous.

While meeting Tara was undoubtedly the best part of your life, walking nonchalantly down a busy street at night without checking your shoulder regularly sounded pretty nice. Was it worth throwing your love for Tara away for? Absolutely not, yet you would be lying if you said there wasn't a little voice in the back of your mind that liked to remind you how every day your life could've been - especially after everything you've suffered, as if Woodsboro wasn't enough.

As if sensing your discomfort, Tara paused her conversation with her sister to glance at you worriedly, her eyes scanning your rigid posture and distant eyes moving too fast for her to track. She squeezes your hand to grab your attention as your eyes finally meet hers, your lone e/c eye standing out against its pale white counterpart. "You okay?" she whispers softly, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Yeah," you sighed dejectedly, "just kinda wishing I had a normal life... you know, without all this Ghostface shit".

You watched as Tara's face fell slightly at your words, causing you to panic, "It's not your fault! I love you and everyone here. I just hate worrying about who will be alive in the morning." Her expression was slightly lifted as a small smile formed on her lips, but guilt continued to gnaw at her eyes. You could hear her whisper, "Yeah, I get it", as she briefly looked away to look at others a few metres ahead of you. She lets go of your hand with a comforting squeeze as she quickens with each step. "I'll be right back."

Watching as she walked off, a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled your attention from the small girl now talking to Mindy. "Did I say something?" you ask, knowing it was Sam standing next to you. "No, she just likes to run off sometimes," she jokes lightheartedly, a slight chuckle falling from your lips. "Tell me about it.". Mindy glances back at you as Tara approaches Chad and Danny. "She's a difficult girl to understand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that she loves you. It's a little obsessive, honestly." Your cheeks flush as you look at Sam questionably, "Sam being sentimental? Never thought I'd live to see that." "Oh shut up" she shoves your shoulder playfully as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

Curious, you gaze at Tara as she returns to her position beside you, intertwining your hands without hesitation. You enquire softly, "What was that all about?" while she keeps her gaze fixed on the approaching station stairs. "Nothing. I just needed to talk to them about something.". Despite feeling it was about you, as said friends kept looking over their shoulders at you, you stopped yourself from pushing it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the station, you were greeted by an overwhelming influx of people, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes. Mindy steps back from the group in front to stand by your side as you take in your surroundings for the first time. Like you, she looks through the crowds, her expression more serious than you're used to on her. You excused her unusual behaviour until you both walked into someone who stared at you wide-eyed, horrified by your scar.

"What the fuck are you looking at?! Fuck off! Jeez... some people."

Now, you were the one who had to look at Mindy with wide eyes. This type of aggression was uncommon for the typically gentle and humorous girl, so the fact that she even displayed it, especially to defend you, it shocked you, to say the least. "Damn, Mindy… thanks," you muttered under your breath as Mindy returned your timid smile, "They deserved it."

Walking further onto the platform, the group waited momentarily whilst the train came to a stop and the doors opened. With tons of people trying to squeeze through the small doors to fit in the tiny space left on the packed train, it became a free-for-all. It happened in a blur; your hand separated from Tara's as Danny dragged her onto the train, leaving you and Mindy amongst the wave of people.

Amidst the chaos of people jostling your shoulders, your attention shifted away from Mindy's presence and focused solely on reaching a concerned Tara. Mindy's frustration became evident through the curse words she hurled at those around you. As you pushed your way towards your girlfriend, an obnoxious person dressed as Ghostface forcefully pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble onto the train and into Tara's embrace, the girl grunting softly at the impact. The echo of Mindy's furious tirade filled the air as you finally turned to witness her forcefully pulling off their mask.

Tucked in Tara's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped your lips at the scene before you. That was until the doors of the train started to close. "Shit… Mindy!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you as you desperately try to reach the door, only to be held back by Tara. You watch Mindy's sudden realisation of the closing doors, a loud 'fuck' escapes her lips as she tries to navigate through the remaining crowd in her path.

The doors shut just as she's about to reach them.

You pound your fist against the door in frustration, mirroring the same exasperated look on Mindy's face. Grabbing your phone, you motioned for her to do the same through the glass as you texted her. The whine of the train starting to move fills your ears as Tara pulls you closer, her body wrapped around your free arm.

In the midst of all the chaos, it escaped your attention that Ethan had also managed to miss the train, although you couldn't quite fathom how. Your phone dings with a text from Mindy. "She's taking the train right after us with Ethan," you inform the group, slipping your phone into your back pocket and releasing a quiet sigh.

"She'll be okay. She's Mindy." Tara comforts you softly, gently stroking your arm as you gaze down at her, nodding in response. You embraced your girlfriend in a tender and heartfelt hug. You were burdened with guilt. You're not sure where this sudden protective nature had come from, and although your heart felt some relief knowing that she cared, you couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

She was protecting you, and look where that got her.

Letting go of Tara, you gently kissed her forehead and intertwined your hand with hers. Until now, you were completely absorbed in your thoughts, oblivious to the tension brewing within the group. Taking your gaze off your girlfriend, the source of said discomfort became obvious.

Ghostface.

Everywhere.

"Oh, what the fuck" you cursed as Tara's grip on your hand tightened. Everywhere you looked, there were individuals wearing the costume that perpetually plagued your nightmares, and their unwavering gazes seemed to be fixated on you. "Why are there so many of them?" Chad asked, his frustration evident in his voice as he, too, grew tired of encountering the same pale mask wherever he went.

Everyone's faces are ridden with anxiety. "How many stops do we have?" Tara inquired with a heightened sense of urgency, eager to get off the train just like the rest of you. Sam gazes at the map, undoubtedly internally pleading that it's not too many. Looking back at the group, she hesitates slightly, revealing the news couldn't be good. "Ten", she speaks solemnly. Tara's eyes are filled with concern as you exchange worried glances, causing your heart to race at an abnormal speed.

The subway lights start flickering, intensifying the eerie atmosphere inside the train. Your vision, already impaired, struggled to follow every Ghostface amidst the flickering lights. It became nearly impossible for you to keep track of them, adding to the waves of anxiety that were rushing over you.

As the train came to a halt, the lights flickered into a steady glow, and a voice over the intercom announced your arrival at 79th Street. In a matter of seconds, as you glanced down the carriage, your gaze met that of one of the masked individuals. Your face fell. A sense of fear filled the air, your breath catching in your throat as both of you remained motionless, captivated by the piercing gaze of those intense black eyes.

As if they had never been there, your intense gaze was interrupted when they vanished behind someone getting on the train. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you scanned the area, desperately searching for any sign of them, but your efforts proved futile. The others remained clueless about what you just saw as the train started to move again, the lights resuming their irritating flickering.

You pulled Tara closer to you as the carriage grew dim, the silhouettes of your friends becoming the only discernible shapes in the darkness. With a tender embrace, she places her hand on your back, tracing soothing circles that bring you a sense of calm. You locked your gaze on the floor as the cabin continued to flicker around you.

"This is 72nd Street", the announcer speaks monotonously, the train coming to a stop as you look up from the floor, noticing your girlfriend's concerned gaze directed towards you. Attempting to avoid her gaze, your sight lands back on the Ghostface from before, again staring daggers at you. You try to maintain an equally stern gaze, which you manage until they start moving towards you at pace.

"Guys", you quickly inform the others about the imminent danger. The atmosphere instantly tense up as all eyes fixate on the approaching figure. Tara and Chad both step forward to protect you. The Ghostface suddenly stops right in front of you, causing your friends to freeze in an effort to avoid giving away any reaction, just in case it's not the real killer.

Attacking a perfectly innocent person on a New York subway was the last thing you needed, especially with the rumours surrounding Sam.

With a sudden and effortless motion, the person in front of you removes their mask, making Chad flinch. Instead of those frightening black eyes, a teenage girl's soft brown eyes fixated on you, brimming with a curious intensity that seemed almost unhinged.

"Holy shit, your makeup is so good! I saw it from across the train, but, oh my god, it looks so much better up close. How did you do it?" she chirps out in excitement. You freeze, immediately recognising she is talking about your scar.

Your perfectly real scar.

You find yourself speechless, unable to form a response as the unexpected question catches you off guard. Without hesitation, the girl extends her hand towards your face, her fingers inching closer to your scarred face. Taken aback, you witness Chad's hand swiftly grasping the girl's wrist with a firm grip. The expression on the girl's face is filled with surprise, whilst Chad displays determination.

"Get away from her before I make you." Your eyebrows raise slightly at his words, your lips quirked into a small smile as you revelled in your friends' newfound sense of protectiveness.

It made you feel human again.

You softly thank Chad, who gives you a curt nod and a smile as your face lights up with a smile that hadn't adorned your lips for many days. Since Ghostface's return, your life has been completely turned upside down. Your friends began to turn against you as the blame game singled you out as its victim, tearing apart the very essence of your being.

However, at this moment, as you bear the marks of your past and the lasting impact it has had on you, a newfound determination surges through your veins as you observe the individuals surrounding you.

These were your people. Your family.

You were determined to go to any lengths to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for their sake.

With your hands still interlocked, you finally emerge from the sweaty train and lead the way up the stairs, closely followed by Tara and the others. You quicken your pace up the weathered stairs, your gaze searching for a blonde who had agreed to meet you here. A voice you recognise calls to you as you reach the peak of the staircase. "Hey," you hear her say, your eyes meeting Kirby's as you shift your gaze towards the woman.

As she approaches, she effortlessly inserts herself into the group, seamlessly blending in as you all make your way towards the theatre. "I've talked to Bailey. I've got everything set up," she explains before noticing the lack of numbers in the group. "Where are Mindy and Ethan?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Clenching your jaw slightly at the reminder of the people you left behind, Tara jumps in to respond, "They're five minutes behind us."

"Let's get you all inside.", Kirby speaks, nodding in response before she redirects her attention to the theatre, which is now just a few steps in front of you. As the dilapidated structure looms before you, its imposing presence casts a shadow over the group. Everyone's steps come to a halt as Sam directs her attention towards Danny. "Not you."

Turning towards them, you watch as shock comes over Danny's face, "What?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Don't trust anyone, remember?" Sam speaks softly yet assertively. "We don't know you. Not really.". His face contorted with hurt as he leaned towards Sam. "You know me," he said, trying to convince her to let him protect her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry." Whilst you felt bad for Danny, despite knowing that Sam would never willingly let anyone protect her, the revelation that being part of Woodsboro meant you were trusted filled a small part in your heart that you weren't aware was missing.

Releasing Tara's hand, you gently wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as you watch the interaction. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile graces Tara's lips, a sign that she's starting to see the return of the girl she loves after the emotional and physical turmoil you've both endured over the past few days.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it." Danny finally speaks up. "Be safe, okay?" he pleads Sam, leaning in and kissing her cheek tenderly while delicately caressing her arms. Sam's face reveals a hint of guilt as she replies, "You too." before swiftly turning around and continuing walking. The rest of you cast sympathetic glances at Danny before joining the girl on the way to the theatre.

"Good call."

As Kirby unlocks the doors with a reverberating clank, a surge of nervousness courses through you as the doors swing open, revealing the dimly lit theatre. With Tara clinging tightly to your side, a sense of unease washes over you as you cautiously enter the room, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I cleared the whole place before you got here. This is the only way in or out." Despite your best efforts to pay attention, Kirby's words seemed to go unnoticed as you surveyed the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease growing within you.

"So, this is the only way in or out. He steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside. We turn it into a kill box." Kirby continues to explain enthusiastically, clearly entertained by the fact that this is finally her chance to bring one of these psychos to justice. "Weapons?" Sam questions. "One gun and I hold onto it." Sam gives Kirby a disapproving look, but before she can say anything, Kirby interrupts her, "I'm the only one with a badge here. That's the way it's going to be. We're safe here."

As much as you want to believe what she says, this was Ghostface you were dealing with. Despite the lingering uncertainty, you made an honest attempt to maintain trust in the plan's success, not only for your own sake but also for the sake of the others, particularly Tara.

"I'm gonna check in with Mindy. See if they're close." Sam interrupts, breaking the suspenseful silence that had fallen amongst the group. As Sam walks away and Chad follows, Tara squeezes your hand for your attention. "Come with me?" "Of course", you reply softly. She guided you to the old confectionary stand, a room that had unexpectedly become an escape for the two of you, as it felt like the only safe spot in the entire building.

Besides, it was Tara. You would follow her wherever she went.

"When was the last time anybody used this place? It's so old," Tara comments as you walk through the door. Although not well-maintained, the room decor still manages to evoke a strange sense of comfort as you softly chuckle at her words. "Yeah," you respond softly as you both make your way to the counter, gently letting go of Tara's hand and resting your elbows on it.

As you spot an old box of Milk Duds across the counter, your hand instinctively reaches out to grab them, only for your hands to collide with the girls next to you. A faint blush tinges on your cheeks as her hand pulls back, causing a soft chuckle to escape your lips, "I-I'm sorry, you can have them". You apologise, holding the box towards her, a hint of nervousness evident as you gently bite your lower lip. She pushes your hand back towards you with a slight smirk. "Take them."

"No, I mean…" you stuttered, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as you savoured the rare moment alone you'd shared with her for a while. "If you want them, you have them," you eventually finish. "You think I want these?" she chuckles, prompting a shared embarrassed laughter between the two of you. Your eyes lock, smiles forming on your faces, entirely captivated by each other. "Kind of", you joke, raising your eyebrows at her. "They're like a hundred years old. Maybe that's your thing."

Your soft laughter trails off into a comfortable silence as you look down at your hands, your heart racing, but this time from a much more pleasant catalyst. "I really missed you. I don't know why I told you to back off." You smiled gently at her, tears starting to well in your eyes. "I was so stupid. This whole time, all I really needed was you."

The more she spoke, the more flustered you got. Instead of enjoying the sentiment, you couldn't help but let your mind destroy it.

You're different from the person she is talking about.

She fell in love with the girl whose face wasn't mutilated and would probably scare off young kids. Whilst Tara and your friends could look past it, understanding the trauma you had gone through, you would never be able to walk down the Street without being met with horrified gazes from every direction. And even though Tara would undoubtedly try to protect you from it, you were convinced that her efforts would be futile.

"I'm not the same anymore," you said dimly. Tara frowned at you, gently taking hold of your trembling hand. "What do you mean?" "I just... someone mistook me for a Halloween costume for fucks sake... I'm not the same, and I never will be." You speak, deliberately avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend, as if her reaction would confirm the truth behind your words.

She could never see you the same.

Instead, her delicate touch caressed your cheeks, mindful of your scar, as she tenderly lifted your gaze towards her. Your teary eyes met hers as she looked at you with a tender smile. "Y/n... scar or no scar, you are still the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing will ever take you away from me, especially a scar that makes you look pretty badass if you ask me." you chuckle at her words, a few stray tears escaping, which she gently wipes away.

"I love you," she says, her gaze locked with yours, ensuring her words reach you. "I love you too," you speak with a chuckle, leaning closer to her as she wraps her hands around your neck and draws you in. The moment your lips connect, it feels like heaven. The taste of her lips is a sweet revelation, and you plan to savour every moment. The room seems to blur as the outside world dissolves, leaving only the two of you. The warmth between you intensifies, and a current of desire courses through your veins. Sinking deeper into the kiss, you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly as your lips begin to move.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your scar, causing you to pull back. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to suppress the pain, you eventually look towards your girlfriend apologetically as she looks at you worried. "Sorry," you chuckle lightly, "It's... still a little tender." You offer the girl a gentle smile as her hands glide down to your hips. "Don't say sorry. We'll just take it slow." Her seductive gaze locks with yours, setting your senses ablaze and causing a familiar blush to creep onto your cheeks. Briefly taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean in again. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

Or so you thought.

As your lips are seconds away from colliding, Tara's body is slammed into you as a scream erupts from her throat. Your eyes go wide in panic as you scream her name, only to see Ghostface standing behind her with a knife in her back. She is ripped from your grip as she is thrown to the ground. Although your instincts told you to help her, the masked individual who was now staring straight at you told you otherwise.

Without warning, their knife comes swinging towards you. Taking a swift step back, you barely dodge the blade as they go to swing again, their arm colliding with you. With a grunt, you harshly grip their arm before pulling them around you and throwing them into the wall. The shattering of glass from the poster frame intensifies the chilling encounter as another swing of the knife inches dangerously close to your face. Dodging the swing, you swiftly regained your footing and delivered a powerful punch to the psycho's face. As your fist made contact with their chin, they crumpled to the ground. As the cries of Tara echo in your ear, in a fit of anger, you direct your attention towards their fallen form and deliver a forceful kick to their stomach.

Frantically realising that there was little time they would be on the ground, you swiftly pivoted and rushed to your girlfriend's side, urgently helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the door. With a sudden burst, the door swings open, startling you as Sam and Chad's faces, filled with terror, appear on the other side, their expressions clearly reflecting the echoes of Tara's bone-chilling scream. They quickly notice your dire situation and urgently drag you from the room.

"Come on, go, go, go!" Sam screams as you run out of the room, and Chad slams the door behind you. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam yells at you, "No shit!" you scream back, desperate to get out of this place. Running towards the caged exit, you grip its rusted bars and pull at it desperately. "That's locked. Come on". Your face falls further, "Are we trapped?" you yell in disbelief. "She made the whole theatre the kill box. For us."

"Hey, what about that? There's an exit door." Tara directs everyone's attention to an opening on the roof, positioned just above a set of scaffolding. "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," you suggest, looking at your girlfriend, who nods in agreement. "There's only one way to find out. Let's go." Chad quickly takes the lead, leading the group towards your potential escape route.

"Bailey's on the way, but-" Sam's words are abruptly interrupted as Ghostface unexpectedly pounces on you from the shadows of the stage. Tara frantically tries to evade the swinging knife, ending up on the floor in an attempt to do so. Unfortunately, you are unable to do the same as the blade slices the side of your arm. You firmly grasp the wound on your arm as you clench your jaw in pain. You watch as the Ghostface continues to swing at Chad and Sam before Chad manages to tackle them onto the floor.

"Y/n! Come on." you hear your girlfriend exclaim, her voice filled with urgency, as you catch sight of her and Sam moving towards the stage. You swiftly move as Chad forcefully slams an old movie camera into their masked face, causing their head to snap back and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

Chad follows you with the camera in hand as you join the girls backstage, both of them looking around frantically for an exit. "This way! Come on!" Tara's voice echoes through the air as she swiftly dashes towards a small tunnel backstage. You eagerly trail behind her along the narrow path, acutely aware of the ominous footsteps of Ghostface closing in from behind. Until now, your lack of vision in one eye hadn't posed much of a problem. Yet, as you sprinted through the narrow pathway, you kept crashing into the walls while Chad struggled to guide you in the right direction.

As you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a chilling realisation washes over you - Ghostface is steadily closing in. "Fuck, they're fast," you exclaimed, as Chad also realised their proximity. "Get fucked", he shouted as he made the quick decision to hurl the bulky camera at them, immediately slowing them down.

With the additional advantage, you all made it back into the confectionary area as Chad threw the popcorn machine behind you. They quickly push it out of the way as you all turn around to face them. With a slight tilt of their head, they launch a series of aggressive swings towards you and Chad.

The knife narrowly misses both of you as you attempt to position yourselves for some kind of counterattack. Swinging down at Chad, he manages to grab their arm as you grab their shoulders, throwing them back onto the counter. Sam and Tara swiftly seize their arms, desperately trying to subdue them, while you deliver a decisive blow to their face, sending them crashing to the ground once more. As they fall to the ground, Tara quickly runs up to them and boots them in the face.

You couldn't help but think how hot it was.

"Go! Go!" Chad exclaims, swiftly grabbing the old bubblegum dispenser from the counter. With a determined gaze, he raises it above his head, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to Ghostface. Tara and Sam guide you away from him, leading you towards the door, expecting him to join you momentarily.

His piercing screams quickly disrupt the plan, causing everyone to turn their heads in disbelief. Your jaws hang open in shock as you see another Ghostface standing beside him, clutching a knife pierced in his side. "No! Chad!" Tara screams, sending a shiver down your spine. With Sam holding her back, you watch in suspense as the two masked figures surround Chad and lift him up to his knees.

They absolutely butchered him.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed the relentless onslaught. You watched him get stabbed over and over and over again as if it was never going to end. You were frozen to your spot. He somehow mustered up the strength to tell you to run, but no one could move. "Go," he sputters out, his determination to save the rest of you clear. In a swift and chilling motion, the Ghostfaces allow his lifeless form to crumple to the ground. With synchronised precision, they wipe their blades clean, sending a shiver down your spine.

Finally getting over your shock, you immediately grabbed the two sisters and dragged them out of the door. "This way. Up here. Come on." Sam directs your pointless running as she tries to get you both backstage. Before you can make it, one of the Ghostfaces pounces from behind the screen. Instinctively turning around, you are stopped immediately as the second Ghostface traps you, waving their knife mockingly.

You're surrounded. Whipping your head back and forth, you watch as they both close in on you, the tension in the air palpable. Thinking quickly, Sam assesses the situation with a determined glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she swiftly grabs some bricks from the debris-laden floor, handing one to you and another to Tara. In that instant, a silent understanding passes between you - do anything to survive.

As Sam moves the two of you so that you find yourselves back to back, forming an impromptu defensive triangle, the weight of the brick in your hand provides an unexpected but reassuring comfort. The cold surface of the brick grounds you, grounding your resolve as you prepare to face whatever unfolds.

"Ready?" Sam asks, and you swiftly reply, although Tara's distressed cries hinder her ability to respond, overwhelmed by panic and fear. "I need you to be ready. Ready?" With your free hand, you firmly grasp Tara's, offering a comforting squeeze while she inhales deeply. Her hesitation overwhelms Sam, prompting her to urge Tara to look at her. As Tara meets her gaze, a newfound determination fills her voice as she declares, "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!"

Just as the fight was about to begin, the deafening echoes of gunshots reverberated through the vast theatre, prompting an instinctive duck for cover. The ominous figures of the two Ghostfaces hastily retreat into the shadows, leaving an unsettling silence shattered only by your heavy breathing. In the dimly lit ambience, a figure emerges from the stage, and a collective gasp escapes the group as the familiar face of Kirby comes into focus, blood streaming down from a fresh wound on her temple.

"It's okay!" Kirby's voice rings out, a desperate attempt to reassure, though her pained expression reveals the gravity of the situation. The vivid red streams on her face contrast with her pale complexion, creating a chilling scene that leaves everyone motionless.

"Stay the fuck back!" Sam's voice pierces the tension, laced with a mix of fear and anger, earning a confused glance from Kirby, disoriented yet resolute. "We know it's you, Kirby," Tara adds, her tone unwavering as Kirby hesitantly approaches the group. "One of them knocked me out," Kirby pleads, her expression changing to one of desperation. Her eyes are genuine, making you want to trust her more, but your trust issues weren't easy to overcome.

"Kirby, stop!" A deep voice slices through the air, redirecting attention to Bailey, who strides into the theatre with a drawn gun, his gaze fixed on Kirby. "Get away from the girls!". The urgency in Bailey's command prompts an instinctive protective response as you push Tara behind you, eyes fixed on the unfolding standoff.

"What are you doing?" Kirby pleads desperately, the air thick with accusation and uncertainty. "Did you kill Quinn!? Did you kill my daughter!?" Bailey's vengeful glare intensifies, scaring the shit out of you.

He clearly wasn't afraid to kill for his kids.

"Jesus Christ!" Kirby exclaims, her eyes darting between you and the detective in disbelief. With her focus back on you, she pleads again, "Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him." The desperation in her gaze transforms into one of resolve as she turns back to the man threatening her. "He's probably the killer," she speaks assertively.

Your gaze remains fixed on Bailey, his expression unwavering even as the damning accusation hangs in the air. Suddenly, the figure of Ghostface appears behind Bailey, and Kirby's frantic scream fills the space, warning him of the imminent threat, "Behind you!" she screams. Disregarding her desperate plea, Bailey swiftly pivots and unleashes three deafening gunshots that pierce through the air, each shot finding its mark, striking Kirby in the chest, and causing her to crumple to the ground.

The aftermath is a haunting symphony of laboured breaths and the lingering echoes of her cries. As your focus shifts back to the killers, you watch in horror as two Ghostfaces stand alongside Bailey, their presence casting a sinister pall over the unfolding chaos. The dim lighting accentuates their ominous figures, while Bailey, wearing a sadistic smirk, reveals himself as an orchestrator of this grim spectacle.

"Great job. Both of you."

"You?"

A palpable tension filled the air in the dimly lit theatre, engulfing you as the truth unravelled right before your eyes. "Yeah, of course me." Bailey teases with a smirk growing on his lips, "Frankly, I expected more from you two after what you did to us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara questioned hesitantly. Bailey's smirk grew into an insufferable smile as he looked to his left, where one of his accomplices was moving to remove the mask. Your heart pounds inside your chest as the white face and black fabric are torn away, revealing your friend's face.

Ethan.

The seemingly unassuming roommate revealed himself with a sinister grin. "Ta-da!" Bailey laughs, finding the shock on all of your faces amusing. The sick look on Ethan's face made you want to puke, the revelation that someone you considered a friend had been out to kill you all along.

The feeling made Woodsboro feel like nothing. The two killers were Sam's boyfriend, whom you had hardly met and someone who you hated from the beginning.

It was nothing compared to seeing the real side of your friend.

With a smirk plastered on his lips, he begins to taunt you about how unsafe you were the whole time, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck it felt good to kill him.". You felt a surge of anger coursing through you as he spoke, causing your jaw to clench and your grip to tighten around the brick in your hand.

The idea of Ethan pretending to be his friend for months, only to have been plotting his demise the whole time without any hint of remorse, ignited an unbearable anger inside you.

"This one was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis?" Ethan smiles at Sam, pointing to his mask with his bloodied knife. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family, my name isn't Ethan Landry, is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara speaks for the rest of you, your faces growing more shocked. As the shock washes over you, your focus shifts to the second masked figure who still stands menacingly staring directly at you.

"But, if you're Ethan, that just leaves… Mindy?" Sam breathes out in disbelief. Your expression twisted in confusion as you looked back at the memories of how much Mindy had loved Anika. It seemed impossible, yet who else could it be?

Shock filled the room as Quinn removed her mask, leaving you all in stunned silence. "Hey, Roomies. Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"But you died?" Tara spoke, a hint of anger behind her voice. "Yeah, kinda didn't, though." Quinn quipped mockingly, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of thing."

Bailey's proud smile made you feel sick as his proud eyes bore into yours, "I made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. You'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with."

Your anger was starting to burst at your seams, being played for fools and having someone come back from the dead to kill your friends, pulling very tight on your last nerve.

"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favourite.". You rolled your eyes at her giddy proclamation. Of course, he was.

Bailey, clearly the leader of this psychotic trio, took slow and calculated steps towards Sam. "Number three and number two. Which just leaves…" Pulling out the most weathered mask from his jacket, he holds it out towards Sam, his eyes menacing. "I'm gonna need you to put it on."

Sam stands tall and looks back at the man with a matching expression, slapping the mask out of his hand as you watch his jaw clench in anger. Ethan is quick to react and slashes his knife towards the girl, slicing through her upper arm with a hiss.

You are quick to catch Sam as she falls back into you. She quickly recovers as she grasps her arm, now dripping with a familiar crimson liquid. Bailey's two minions begin to move around you, circling you as your anger finally comes spewing out of you; you step in front of Sam with rage filling your eyes. "You did all this as a family?" you yell at them incredulously. "Hell yeah, bitch! Sam should know why better than anyone!"

You immediately knew they were talking about Billy, yet the true origin of their motive still escaped you. What family had Sam ever hurt for them to hate her so much to go on a murderous rampage?

"They still haven't figured it out. Maybe we overestimated them." Ethan mocked as the confusion was clearly evident on your faces. Sam was the most confused of all, knowing that she had never done anything wrong. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit the murders in Woodsboro…"

Bailey's laugh fills the theatre, slightly offended that Sam would think that they would believe some stupid internet rumour. Instead, he reveals that it was, in fact, Quinn who had started the malicious rumours, making life in New York for Sam absolute hell.

Each time you think the betrayal couldn't run any deeper, they manage to beat themselves yet again.

"You're a killer, just like your father was.". "I'm not…". "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!". The gears could finally tick inside your heads as you looked between each other in an attempt to connect the dots. As far as you were aware, the only person Sam had ever 'killed' was… Richie.

Oh shit.

"You're Richie's family?" The realisation also struck Sam as her face sank. "Ding-ding-ding, now she's finally getting it." You shook your head in disbelief. A family seeking revenge for their dead son, okay, sure. Seeking revenge for a murderous psycho by killing his victims who had killed him out of self-defence? Too far.

Yet clearly, nothing was too far for this family, as Ethan revealed the sickening detail that they had killed their own mother because she had refused to avenge Richie. You knew all Ghostfaces were, on some level, psychotic, but this was getting insane.

"Great job with the parenting…" Tara quipped at Bailey, her words bringing the tiniest of smiles to your lips, her sarcasm never failing to entertain you, even if it's whilst you are surrounded by killers.

"You shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at the girl, your jaw clenching at the insult as you looked at her, infuriated. The temptation to throw the brick in your hand at her face almost overcame you until you felt a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I loved my son. So I helped him build this collection." You shifted your gaze towards the older man as he looked amongst the exhibitions with a reminiscent smile. "All of this is Richies?"

The more you seemingly find out about Richie, the more Sam's expression seems to fall. The guilt she had felt after Woodsboro was reborn as her ignorance about her then-boyfriend increased tenfold.

Knowing that this was all Richie's made the space somehow more bone-chilling than before. As your eyes scanned the numerous exhibits, filled with items that belonged in an evidence box somewhere, a part of you pangs with guilt for the other siblings who were clearly the least favourite.

"This is where you have to die." Your attention is brought back to him as he redraws his gun and points it directly at Sam. Instinctively grabbing for Tara's hand, you spare Sam a quick glance, noticing her expression shift as she tilted her head at the man.

Oh, he was fucked.

"He was pathetic, you know?". You watched the deadpan expression on Bailey's face break. "That's not true…" he shook his head. "He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do almost all the killing." You had to hold back your smile as you watched his facade breakdown. "He was a strong, virile young man!" "He was a weak little bitch who cried before I cut his fucking throat."

As the words leave Sam's mouth, Quinn lunges towards the three of you with a bloodcurdling scream. She is quickly and effortlessly stopped as Tara clocks her in the face with her brick. With teeth and blood flying out of her mouth, she falls to the floor.

A sign that their moment is finally over, your senses are heightened as Act 3 appears to finally kick off. Before you can make any moves, gunshots ring out from behind you as you turn to see Kirby apparently coming back from the dead.

Her resurgence doesn't last long as Ethan quickly rushes towards her with his knife ready in his hand. You're quick to follow the boy as he reaches Kirby and stabs her in the stomach. Finally reaching them as Kirby falls to the ground in pain, you run straight into Ethan, throwing him into the ground. He quickly gets back up and runs away with a maniacal laugh as you shift your focus back to Kirby.

Noticing the knife still sticking out of her stomach, you look at her with a grimace as you realise it's the only way you're gonna get a weapon anytime soon. "Sorry, but I need this." She gives you a small nod as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Gripping onto the handle, you pull the knife out swiftly in an attempt to minimise her pain. She howls in pain, and her hand grips on your arm, her nails digging into your skin as the wave of pain washes over her. Finally relaxing, she opens her eyes back up and looks at you with a tiny smile.

"Fuck 'em up."

As you stand up, you see Ethan reappear from behind a wall, his eyes set on you. Turning towards him, he begins to charge towards you with a sick grin still plastered on his face. "What are you gonna do, scar-face…" he calls out mockingly as he closes in.

That made you snap.

With a new vigour burning inside of you, you lunge towards him as you pull the knife above your head. With a loud grunt, you drive the knife down into his chest. His smile finally washes over his face as he looks at you surprised. Ignoring it, you continue to pump your knife in and out of his chest as if he were a piece of meat, his blood splattering all over you, but you couldn't care less.

Out of breath, you push his limp body off of you as he keels down with blood sputtering out of his mouth. Standing still, you look at his blood-covered body with laboured breathing. Noticing he is still alive, you move to stab him again until you hear your girlfriend's voice from behind you.

"Y/n!" she calls, your head instantly turning in her direction as you notice her beginning to climb the scaffolding behind her sister. Taking your chance, you quickly run towards them, weaving in and out of the display cases before you reach the base of the scaffolding.

Looking for a place to hold your knife, you settle on wiping it off on your shirt, adding to the mural of crimson colours, before placing the knife between your teeth.

As you begin climbing, the gash in your arm aches as new blood begins to flow from the wound. Biting painfully onto the knife, you continue your ascent as you see Tara at the top, reaching her hand down to you. Hearing noise behind you, you turn your head as you watch Bailey and Ethan begin to circle you like sharks, smelling your blood.

With a final grunt, you reach the top and grab Tara's hand as she helps pull you towards the balcony. Watching the two sisters scale across it in front of you, you take the time to try and settle your breathing, which is easier said than done when you're clutching a knife between your teeth.

Moving to follow them, you take the knife out of your mouth and carefully hand it to Tara. Climbing carefully along the railing, you are seconds from making it to safety with the others before another shot rings through the air.

A burning sensation instantly erupts in your leg as you lose your balance and fall backwards. Screaming your name, Sam and Tara barely manage to catch you as your hands barely grip the slippery railing.

Peering over your shoulder, you watch as Bailey moves towards a set of stairs and Ethan moves to stand directly underneath you. "Shit. Not good," you whisper to yourself as your gaze returns to the sisters' terrified looks.

With your injured arm weakening by the second, a noise from the balcony catches your attention as Quinn appears behind Sam, brandishing a bloodied knife in her hand. As Quinn moves towards her, she is forced to let go of your arm, and she turns to face her.

With Ethan taunting you from below and Quinn and Bailey closing in on the girls, you overcome your panic and realise it's your life or theirs.

"Tara, let me go". Your words cause the girl to look at you in shock. “No, I-” “Tara! Let me go.”. Your grip continues to slip as she looks at you as if you have lost your mind.

"Tara… Please." you give her a small smile as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. You watch as her lips begin to quiver, and you feel her grip loosen. Giving her a nod, she finally lets go of your wrists, causing you to plummet down from the balcony.

Turning your attention to the killer below you, you land with a loud bang, and your injured leg collapses beneath you. In an instant, Ethan is plunging his knife into your stomach, a meek whine escaping your lips as you bend over his arm. Twisting his knife inside of you, your loud cru echoes through the theatre as tears threaten your eyes.

Finally, bringing your head up to look at the boy, his smile sent a shiver down your spine as your breathing became more and more laboured. Just as you thought your time was coming to an end, another figure comes falling down from above you.

It was Tara.

Before you can say anything, she lands on her feet with a knife in her hand. Catching Ethan off-guard, she grips his hair and rips his head back. Looking at her with his mouth open, she lifts up her knife and plunges it into the back of his throat. You can hear him gargling on his own blood as she twists the knife, blood splattering on her face.

"Now die a fucking virgin."

Pushing him so that he falls to the ground with a thud, Tara quickly averts her attention back to you, who, to her surprise, was wearing a smirk on her lips. "That was really hot." you chuckled in pain as she kneeled down next to you, noticing the knife was still in your abdomen.

"Shut up," she said before moving to lie you down. Knowing she was about to pull it out, you exhaled shakily before nodding at her, and just like you did Kirby, she pulled the knife out quickly, earning a pained groan from you, before immediately applying pressure to your wound.

Gently removing her hand from your stomach, you move to sit up and attempt to ignore how her hand is now stained with your blood. Making into an upright position, you look at Tara, who is scanning you for any other wounds, whilst you watch her face with a tender gaze.

The bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of a body that vibrated the creaky floors above your head, brought you both back to the situation you were in. "Help me up," you say quickly, urgently trying to get up and help Sam, presuming it wasn't her body that you heard fall.

As Tara wrapped her arm around your waist gently, she pulled you to your feet; the faint sound of Sam's voice talking to someone calms your nerves. The throbbing from your bullet and stab wound was a rude awakening as to the shape you were in, not to mention the blood that covered almost every inch of your body.

Before the two of you could move towards the stairs, the sound of screaming rang through the theatre as you both looked up. Your jaw dropped. Bailey and Sam came flying over the railing before plummeting into the displays beneath them. As the glass shattered beneath them, you were quick to notice their lack of movement.

Pulling Tara off of you, you pushed her towards her sister. Running to her side, you hobbled as fast as you could towards them. Thankfully, Tara had managed to shake her awake by the time you got there. As she helped Sam to her feet, you sighed in relief as you looked over at a still motionless Bailey.

As the sisters check over each other, your sights remain on the unconscious killer in front of you. "What are we gonna do about him?" you ask, nodding your head in his direction.

You watch as the gears turn in Sam's head, weighing the options between ending it now and letting him die somewhat peacefully or giving him a taste of his own medicine.

She chose the latter.

Hidden behind the curtains on the side of the stage, you watched Bailey through a small slit, waiting for him to move in order to signal Sam that your plan was in action.

It was simple, really. Make him go crazy, and then you kill him.

After a few minutes, Bailey finally began to stir as he moved to sit up. You quickly poked your head around the corner into the hidden hallway, where Sam was standing in her father's costume; you gave her a nod before she pulled a phone out of her pocket and pulled it to her ear.

The sound of Bailey's phone ringing echoed through the now disturbingly quiet theatre. Repositioning yourself so that you can see him, you watch as he rapidly looks around him before standing and bringing his phone to his ear.

You can't hear what Sam is saying to him, but you watch him make his way to the stage as planned. "Oh yeah, what's that?" his voice grows louder as he finally appears on the stage.

Now, the fun part.

As planned, from your place on the ground, you reached your uninjured leg out and kicked a floorboard. Before you could even retract your leg, Bailey snapped towards the noise and fired two precise shots into the heads of the mannequins that lined the stage.

"You put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic that you're going to die in it…" Exhaling quietly as he spoke, you moved to a spot against a wall where you could relax your weakening body for a minute as Tara played her part.

A noise sounded from the other side of the stage. Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back onto the wall, you listened as Bailey once again flinched and fired his gun, this time the sound of shattering glass filling the stage.

"You know the truth now. Murder's in your blood."

It was your turn again. As quietly as you could in your state, you reached your arm over to the brick that Sam had given you. Picking it up, with the strength left in your arms, you threw it into the back corner of the stage, away from you.

The sound of Bailey's gun firing once again filled the air as he screamed frustratedly, "Stop fucking around and show yourself!". Knowing that it was Sam's turn, you quietly crawled towards the curtain, pulling it aside slightly so that you could peer through.

"I'm a fucking police officer! What are you gonna do, huh? Who do you think they're gonna believe?" he screams once again. A faint smile lands on your lips as you watch Sam appears behind him, wearing the mask and all. Before he even notices her presence, she quickly spins him around before, as you would put it, stabbing the shit out of him.

As crazy as it sounded to say, the sound of his screams was like music to your ears. His family had singlehandedly taken everything from you, so watching him suffer was like heaven to you.

Spotting Tara appear from behind her hiding spot and walking towards Sam, you decided to do the same. With a groan and the help of a wall, you pulled yourself to your feet before weakly hobbling out from your place behind the curtains.

As Sam finally stops stabbing him, and he pleads for his life, you watch with a mixture of admiration and concern, confused as to why she is giving him any chance to live.

She didn't entertain it for long.

"But you did fuck with my family, so…". You watch with wide eyes as Sam gruesomely stabs him straight in his eye, the blade clearly reaching his brain as he falls to the ground, twitching.

"Aw, now we're matching." you joke, earning a laugh from the girls as you look at the mutilated body of the once detective who now also had only one functional eye - had he been alive, that is.

"Let's get out of here," Tara says softly as she grasps your hand with hers. Her touch never fails to make you giddy, but something was off this time. As she tried to pull you towards the stairs off the stage, your head began to spin uncontrollably as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.

Your legs collapse underneath you as Tara catches you, her face ridden with worry. "Y/n?!? Hey, you're okay, just breathe.". Your vision was fading in and out of a blur as the feeling of your limbs began to escape you. Sam kneels down on the other side of you, matching Tara's expression, as you try to nod to Tara's words.

"Yeah… I just… need a little break." Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you try your best to keep them open. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay," Tara speaks as calmly as she can as she notices the blood beginning to spill from your wounds again.

“Yeah… of course…”

Opening your eyes slowly, you groan softly as the bright light hanging above you stings your eyes. Carefully rubbing your eyes, still careful of your scar, you move to sit up slightly, noticing you are in an empty hospital room. Confusion washes over you, as last you remember, you were on a bloodied stage, and yet here you were.

Doing your best with your aching limbs, you move a pillow behind your back in order to give you a better view of your new environment, admittedly much nicer than your previous one.

Scanning the room, you notice the small TV in the corner of the room is playing The Babadook. You know you didn't put it on, so someone must be here, and it's not particularly hard to figure out who it must be.

With your attention focused on the screen, you fail to notice when Tara walks in the door with a bag of chips in her hand. As she notices your moving figure, a loud gasp escapes her lips. She drops everything in her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately watering.

The sound makes you immediately turn to her, a smile growing on your lips as your eyes meet hers. As the fact that you are awake and alive sinks in, she runs over to the side of your bed and brings her hands up to your face.

Gently cupping your cheeks, her teary eyes look into yours as your hands gently grip her wrists. "Hi," you chuckle softly, the wave of relief finally hitting you. "Hi," she chuckles back even softer, her eyes scanning every detail of your face.

"Is everyone okay?" you ask with furrowed brows as she nods enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, yeah, we're all fine.". The sigh that escapes your lips rids your mending body stress, all of it melting away as soon as you know you have all made it.

Your eyes return to Tara's as she whispers softly, "I can't believe you're alive.". You smile sincerely at her words. "I'm not going anywhere." At your words, she lets go of your face and climbs onto your bed. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. You watch as she wraps her arms around your neck and buries her head in your shoulder.

Instantly reciprocating, you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her with all the strength you can muster. You can feel her tears falling onto your bare shoulder, entangling one of your hands in her hair as you gently play with her hair.

"We made it, Tara. We made it."

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega@thenextdawn @zhasmindoesntknow @faunusrubyrose @harleyspunchingbag @yourmamacom@rockwyn @androgynouscloudenemy@padf00ts-l0ver @wol-fica @captainbeat @sophiexoxo-lol@perfectartisanwerewolf @pedrosprincess @dark-hunter16 @daenerys713 @dksjskx @blazemaster4014 @l4venderia @marsyay78 @edearx0 @randomnessbecausewhynot @pixielovers2account @buba424 @niqmandu @karsonromanoff @spidey-beans 

[mafuluzx]

Hello! Idk if it still doing requests but I just needed to get this idea out there: any of the ninja x magician reader where the reader just has the most riskiest performances ever and has people on the edge of their seats (idk it's just been in my head all day for some reason

Of course! I'm not very fast at writing and have a lot of oneshots at work, but I'll try to write this as best as I can. I really liked the magician idea, but mixing it with some 'dangerous' acts would have made this a bit boring. So I toned it down a bit, and took a more comedic approach to the act.

Also, I just couldn't get myself into the idea of having romance in this, because I liked it as just a platonic thingy, but I tried my best! I also chose Kai for the main focus of this thing, so I guess it kinda counts as a Kai x reader??? But mainly it's just a platonic thingy.

Kai x male! reader.

Set in very early season 1, You'll see why.

Better than magic

So here they were, all five of them. Kai, Cole, Jay, Zane, and of course Little Lloyd Garmadon himself. He was the one who thought of this idea to begin with.

Right next to Mega Monster amusement park was now a huge circus tent and countless of stands were set all around it. There was something for everyone. It went from unfair and way too expensive carnival games to booths with shadow plays and even meet-and-greets with puppeteers and their puppets.

The little boy dressed in his favorite skeleton hoodie jumped up and down and led Zane, the one who decided to actually try to watch over the boy, by the hand all around the carnival.

Meanwhile the three others wondered why their Sensei even allowed them to come here in the first place. Oh well, if they're already at a carnival, might as well take it easy.

Jay and Cole for one were having fun.

"Oh my gosh!!! It's a Fritz Donnegan meet and greet!!" "And check out all these games! Hey, Jay, wanna go throw darts?" "Later, maybe. Wait for me, I have to go shake his hand!!" "Jay, look! A cotton candy stall!!There are so many flavors! Cherry, Blueberry, Popcorn-"

"Popcorn? Is that really a good flavor?" Kai wasn't really that excited. He had wanted to take the time to train, make sure he was in good shape. In the end he was still, against his will, dragged here.

"What? If you don't like popcorn, how about the chili flavor?" Cole asked, as Kai scrunched up his face in disgust.

"No thanks."

"Cole, Kai, look at this!!" An excited yell rang out as Jay ran back to the the two ninja. He lifted his hands up and shoved a picture of Cliff Gordon's face with the words 'For Jay Walker', written in fancy cursive letters.

"I got this from him! And guess what? I actually got to shake his hand!" The blue ninja acted like a kid with a sugar high.

"Nice..." Kai didn't even try to sound excited for Jay. Jay's happy smile turned into a pout, but before he could start whining, Cole spoke up.

"Hey, look at that." Cole said as he pointed to a crowd, a small crowd, but a crowd no less, surrounding a small show stage. It wasn't really much.

Jay immediately hopped over to the stage, as Cole walked after him. Kai let out a sigh before following after them, although reluctantly.

The three actually got to the very front, because there weren't many people around the stage. Some only stayed to watch for a second, before moving onto something else.

"Hey, you three!" A sudden voice called out to them from above, and the three ninja all looked up. Even Kai's eyes widened as he saw a boy, wearing a short cape and a top hat hanging upside down on a tightrope.

"Welcome, welcome! Enjoy the show!" The boy took his hat, which surprisingly didn't fall of his head on it's own, and lifted it off his head as a greeting.

The boy didn't stop to chat, as he noticed someone else joined the crowd, and called out to them, giving another greeting to them as well.

Right after that the boy lifted his hands onto the tightrope and pulled himself up and onto his feet on top of it. Standing up, he lifted his hat, before giving a bow to the few people watching.

"It's an honor performing here today! I've always wanted to perform with a tightrope, although my main strengths are, ah... are- Ah, Achoo!" The boy started off with a speech, before sneezing mid way, 'accidentally' making a dove appear on his hand. Some adults laughed while kids stared in awe.

"Sneezing doves, apparently." The comment just added onto the laughter, before the boy covered his hand with his top hat, and upon removing it, there was no dove in sight!

The boy did many generic magic tricks while walking left and right on the tight rope, nothing special. Well, that's what Kai thought, and his displeased face showed it.

Of course ordinary person could walk a thin tightrope just like that, especially while sneezing out doves and occasionally pulling bunnies out their shoes... I really wish I was kidding.

But it seemed like the boy had noticed Kai's boredom, and he smirked. Suddenly the boy stepped past the tightrope, falling off. A few kids gasped, but the boy caught onto the tightrope with one of his hands at the last second.

Although he was still much higher than the crowd, he was a bit closer to them, and his target, Mr. frowning-at-a-magic-show.

"You, wearing red." The boy pointed to Kai with his free hand, as Kai flinched in surprise.

"Me?" He asked as the boy nodded.

"Yeah, you. Wanna play a little game?" The boy asked, this time using his free hand to dig out a single coin from his pocket.

"No thanks, I'm not really into all this magic things-" Kai wanted to refuse, but his two friends quickly caught him off.

"Whoa, really? Kai, this kinda chance doesn't some often!" "Let's play! Let's play, Kai!" Cole and Jay pressured Kai until he ultimately had to agree.

"Fine."

"Great! It's easy, just guess which hand the coin is in." The boy showed Kai the coin, twisting it around to show there was nothing attached to it.

The boy's hold on the tightrope didn't loosen for a second as he threw the coin up, and caught it with the same hand as he had thrown it. Lastly, he blew gently onto his own clenched fist, before speaking up.

"So, which hand?" The crowd was confused, he had thrown the coin up, the caught it. His other hand hadn't moved an inch. It was impossible to get this one wrong.

"Your free hand, obviously?" Kai held in a scoff, as the boy smiled, and opened his hand.

"Correct!" The crowd was even more silent. But not because the magic trick sucked, but because there was no coin in his hand.

"Uh, where's the coin?" Jay spoke up, as the boy blinked, before turning his hand towards himself, before reacting like he didn't know what was going on.

"Ah! Where did it go? Did I drop it? Did you see where it went?" The questions he showed to the little kids in the audience, who shook their heads, not having seen the boy drop anything.

"Hold, on, I'll find it." The boy quickly spoke, before changing his position to instead hang upside down again, but only by his ankles. He even removed one foot and hung with only one foot as he checked his socks and shoes.

It brought a smile on people's faces, and adults and kids both chuckled before the boy's eyes suddenly fixated on Kai.

"Oh, hey, check behind your left ear, would you?" The boy said, changing back to holding on with both feet.

"My ear?" Kai let out, confused, but still raised his left hand to his ear, when he suddenly felt something cold behind it.

Kai stopped for a second, before pulling out a coin from behind his ear. He hadn't even noticed it was there. When had it gotten there?!

"Ah, thanks!" The boy took the coin from the shocked Kai as kids laughed at the red ninja, while an applause rang out for the boy.

"That was awesome!" "Totally! Too bad Lloyd missed that!" Jay and Cole laughed together as Kai finally broke free of his state of shock, and scoffed.

"It's just a magic trick, nothing special." But the boy had heard Kai's complaint loud and clear.

"Oh? Wanna see something better?" The boy spoke, having once again stood up on the rope. But Kai just scoffed again.

"Unless you can do a handstand up there, I don't think you can do any-" Kai was cut off as the boy jumped, grabbed the tightrope, and pulled himself up into a handstand using the slight momentum it gave.

"-better." Kai finished once the boy was in a completely still handstand on the tightrope. The crowd all clapped before (y/n) suddenly swung, and did an actual flip before landing on the stage, before bowing.

"I'll be here all day, so no need to worry! But I'll have to take a ten minute break now! I hope you enjoyed!" He spoke to the large crowd, who all gave an applause once more before they scattered, leaving to do something else.

"Oh, Kai, was it?" The boy asked when the three ninja were about to leave.

"Yeah. I really underestimated you, didn't I?" Kai finally admitted, as the boy gave a small laugh and a nod.

"It's fine, Magician don't usually walk on tightropes to begin with." The boy commented on his own performance as Kai noticed Jay and Cole take off to somewhere else. Probably the weird cotton candy stall.

"But thank you for co-operation, how about I do one more, just for you?" The boy offered, and took his hat off, before offering it to Kai, the bottom facing up.

"Put your hand in." Kai was skeptical, but the boy had been nice to him all this time, although he himself had been rolling his eyes and scoffing at his tricks.

Kai put his hand in, when he felt something, and grabbed it. Pulling his hand out, he saw the thing he had grabbed was rose.

"What's thi-?" Kai couldn't get to ask anything about it though, for he heard Jay and Cole calling his name from further away. The boy smiled, pulling the hat away from Kai and stepping off of the stage.

"My name's (y/n), by the way." The boy also put his hand into the top hat, digging out a business card, and shoving it in Kai's hands.

"Also, your friends are a good audience." (y/n) said, giving Kai's shoulder a pat before the boy left to go on his break.

Kai smirked, before running to his friends with a rose and a business card in his hands.

[the0racl30fd3lphi]

High on Cloud 9

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

warnings: fullf, established relationship, slight nudity, ouid

summary: you stumble into your inebriated boyfriend, xavier, and have to take care of him.

a/n: once again, written at half past i should probably be asleep i have work and errands tomorrow. y'all love xavier and it feeds my addiction so please enjoy!

word count: 1.2k

•••••

You'd strayed too long in the gardens, feeling the rush of life fill your veins as the plants brighten up a little in your presence. Anything that seemed like it needed a little more care and attention sought out for your touch and influence. You clipped enough chamomile from the nearby pot for two cups of tea. Just enough to refill your stash.

When people said you had a green thumb, they were telling the truth in multiple ways. Could you bring anything to life? Yeah. Did you have an affinity with foliage and plants? Sure. Were your thumbs green? Yes. But so were your whole hands just above your wrist.

Strolling through the halls trying to hide from teachers, you heard the echo of a call from a few halls down. It sounded vaguely like your name. Actually, it sounded exactly like your name because it was your name. As fast as you could you ran towards it while trying to keep quiet.

"Xavier?" You almost whisper yelled. "Why are you not in your dorm?" You approached your boyfriend quickly watching him trip over his own feet and slide down the walls laughing.

"Hi, my pretty lady," he wrapped himself around your legs in a hug, hands sat in the crook of your knees.

"Hi love, you're- oh." You tried to pull him up, but when you got closer to his face, chin resting on your thigh eyes gazing into yours, you smelt something rather familiar. Something similar to the fresh crop you grew for Ajax after he complained about his last one. You told him to use the smallest bit and dilute it for the best experience, yet with the way it was wafting off of Xavier you figured he probably didn't. "Yes come on love, lets go."

It took a hefty sum out of you to drag Xavier to this dorm, since you had to make sure no one caught you. But between his mumbles and drabbles about his fingers, the floors, the ceilings "no one seem to appreciate!"

"That's all fine, just move your hand for me," you could barely entertain his rambles as you fished your hand in his pocket to grab his keys and unlock the door.

"Y'know, this whole place is built so wonderful and gothically," he slumped against the wall when you bent to pull his shoes off. "the ceilings look like something straight out of an architecture.. history book.. or something." You pulled the layers of him and left him in a t-shirt and his joggers to sit him at his desk. "Why doesn't anyone look up and appreciate it more?" He was laid down in the star position now, giggly and admiring the roof of his dorm.

"I don't know darling," you hummed and started heating up some water on the electric kettle you left in Xavier's room a month ago. Next to it was a mug, waiting to be filled. You searched through your bag for the jar of honey Eugene gave you earlier, and the lemons Ms. Thornhill gave you after class. You were known for your obsession with teas so you needed to have the hookups for everything you needed when you weren't at home, in your garden conservatory.

"Xavier, lovely, get up and shower yeah?" You urged him from the side as you pulled out some fresh clothes for him.

"Are you my mother or my girlfriend?" He muttered as he got up and stumbled towards you. He gazed at you from his height with those big green doe eyes as he grabbed your hands, laying a kiss to the back of your hands before pressing his forehead against yours.

"You've called me both," pushing to your tiptoes you planted a quick kiss to his lips before playfully tapping his ass and directing him towards the bathroom shower. He laugh loudly and tipped his head all the way back before floating into the shower and slipping out a "yes ma'am!" before closing the door.

•••••

You'd settled comfortably on his bed, picking up where you left off with your edition of Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, when you heard a knock from the shower, and the soft mumble of your name.

Sliding off his bed and padding to the door, you creaked it open and slipped your head through, "Yes, love?" You called to him. Quickly you found his sitting form peaking out through the curtain, resting on the side of the tub. "Can you wash my hair please?" He pouted and pleaded with you.

"Of course Xavi, one minuet." The shower seemed to have relaxed him even more he almost fell asleep feeling the warmth. You peeled off your sweater and changed into a pair of his boxers in case you got wet. Which, knowing Xavier, he'd probably try to pull you in and you liked your outfit too much.

Kneeling down by the tub was the only comfortable position you could get in without being completely soaked. You put a dollop of shampoo on your hands, lathered it up, and started combing your fingers through his hair and scrubbing into his scalp. "Baby keep your head up, don't go loose on me now," you slipped a wet kiss on his cheek and he smiled.

There's something so intimate about washing someone's hair for them. The head, the scalp, its such a sensitive and delicate place that trusting someone with it blindly feels like such an honor. Xavier had a rough upbringing and some rough trust issues, and how he asked you to do take care of you made you feel privileged.

Carefully, as if he was fragile glass that would shatter at a cold breath, you wove through the knots, tangles, built up tenseness. It was such a wonderful and vulnerable experience. The woody scent of his shampoo and conditioner flew through the air and gave the room such a warm and inviting smell.

You reached for the shower head and softly rinsed all the soap out of his hair and wrapped a towel around his head to keep it all together until you could dry it. He helped you somewhat, drying himself off while you carded through his clothes, that he dumped on the floor with the clean pile, to find what was fresh to put him in.

Helping him into his clothes you than sat him down on the toilet while you grabbed the blow dryer. At this point he got cuddly and wrapped his arms around your middle, head completely buried in your stomach. Barely enough to breath but just enough to live. You kissed the top of his head and chuckled while you started blow drying his hair. It was a feat, he gave you very limited room for motion so it was tough to maneuver but you did it.

The two of you settled into a warm embrace as you put a movie on your laptop to lull you both to bed. Xavier, fresh and warm, drinking his sweet chamomile tea, quickly passed out. You had enough time to put everything away and get comfortable again before sleep quickly claimed you too.

You two always sleep better together, but something in the air tonight felt different, and the sleep was unlike any other rest you'd had.

And just like that night, just like the tea, the morning was just as gentle and loving.

•••••

@animesimp3456 @iovaki @navs-bhat @hellllloooosstuff @555stargirl555 @quinn165 @raeboo @heehooyeslol @leyseyb @aunicornmademedoit @regulus-black-223048 @o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o @pagesfalling @fanfictioniseverything @trickylittlewitch @baziutawrites @mxltifxnd0m @l-3rk @gumballsglassofmilk @bloodyziggy @ur-mom-is-h0t

[zoobus]

I apologize in advance because I'm taking a tag way too seriously and this isn't even YA novel navalgazing, this is literally about a series written for 3rd graders.

I'm realizing "fucked up that the moral of this story was" is a minor trigger for me. It drives me insane in a way obviously unequal to whatever the original context is. But this is my blog so.

The American Girl series was not a moral-driven set of stories! They weren't Animorphs or anything but they were absolutely a kid's introduction to the intrinsic unfairness of life and a solid chunk of the stories ended with the """"moral"""" of the main character left to uncomfortably ponder why something so clearly not right could be allowed to continue before they clunkily skipped to the next story like the previous didn't happen.

I used to own several sets and I skimmed through a few before selling them some years back. The sudden harsh reality of whatever historical ills going on were part of the appeal! It was fucked up and scary and that's why they were good (to an elementary schooler to be clear, these aren't good books)

Like the "moral" of Nellie's story was that it was fucked up to be a child factory worker. It was fucked up that her response to "oh your hair is so pretty, you should grow it longer" was to recount the time she witnessed one of her elementary age coworker get scalped by one of the child labor machines. It was fucked up that she's 8 with PTSD. Of course Nellie got a happy end but like... abused little puppies getting cleaned up and spoiled is a popular media trope. It's not a lesson. Even though it works out for her, you're still left with the knowledge that the girl who's hair was ripped off her skull and untold number of fingerless kids were not adopted by Samantha's rich grandpa.

I'm rarely comfortable saying there's one specific point that a story is objectively going for and you're a fool if you don't see it, but I do think the American Girl series was intentional in showcasing period-specific suffering might have looked like in a way a little kid could conceptualize. And it worked! For example:

Molly, the WW2 American Girl (AG). Her family takes in a little Bri'ish girl and Molly's soooo excited wow imagine having a fancy English girl in your own house. She is irritated when the 9yo lass is very quiet and not into being her doll. After weeks of molly snipping at her, British girl goes off like sorry I'm not fucking prancing around you dumb bitch but I'm not here as a foreign exchange student, I'm here because my house got bombed and my friends and family are probably fucking dead

Samantha, the Victorian AG. We already know Nellie who, as explained before, had a very different life than the wealthy Samantha. But Samantha also had a black nanny she adored up until she disappears without warning. After a lot of snooping, she uncovers that nanny had a baby! So of course she sneaks out at night to find the little man for herself🤫

Her mischievous giggling starts to get more nervous as she gets closer to nanny's address. It's getting dirtier and shittier and there's only black people around and they're openly gawking but not approaching. People live here? Nanny lives here? With a baby? She eventually finds her and the baby who is cute but Samantha is left at the end like. Hm. So. I guess my life is not universal? Much to think about. There's no happy resolution to this. Nanny never returns, segregation continues.

Last one, Addy, the escaped slave (apparently a controversial opinion, but I liked Addy). The other stories take a bit to get to wham aspect, but with her? Right from the start we have Overseer catch Addy slacking while picking cotton. She's just not debugging fast enough. This grown adult man, so infuriated an eight year old child isn't picking cotton tobacco fast enough, forces her to eat one of the fat, green worms she missed. They describe Addy holding back tears, the worm bursting in her mouth, the bitter taste, the humiliation. I feel like this was the first time I like...*got* slavery. You learn about it in school, sure, but owning people, beating people, it sounded bad but unconnected to anything I knew. Like maybe it's because at the time of reading, I too was a daydreamy 8yo black girl, making it hit a little too close. How could anyone do that and feel justified? Or feel nothing at all? An adult made a little kid eat a bug and it didn't hurt his conscious? This guy probably goes to church and doesn't even remember this. He doesn't think he needs forgiveness. This is nothing to him. This is normal. He died thinking he did nothing wrong, probably. Those were my thoughts then. Very good.

These aren't morals. Of course you shouldn't expect a refugee to perform for their host family. Of course you shouldn't make a child eat a worm. Child labor is bad. Didactic American Girl was not.

[thezombieprostitute]

Mace + 38?

...because they're running out of time.

Ask is based on this post.

A/N: My brain went a little weird on this one. I've never written this kind of fantasy setting before. Feedback would be greatly appreciated!

Word Count: < 1k

Warnings: Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Mace was always a bit of an oddball in his village. While his people were naturally afraid of the rough seas and violent tides, he found them calming. When others had the sense of mind to stay away from the shores and piers, he was walking along them, breathing deep and enjoying sounds, smells, feel of the wind and sea creating their chaos.

He couldn't explain why enjoyed it so he never bothered to try. Some people would whisper that there was selkie blood in his family history. That his great-grandfather had caught himself a selkie and Mace had inherited some of her wild nature. Mace never cared for those rumors. Every selkie story he'd ever heard involved a poor soul being trapped by a human and never allowed freedom. His memories of his great-grandparents were scarce but by all accounts they had a happy marriage.

So he refused to give them credence, refused to let the rumors get to him, and just let himself enjoy the things he enjoyed. No need to overthink it or let others affect the calm he felt during these times.

One evening Mace went walking further than usual. He'd gotten into an argument with the town elders, trying to convince them of the need to incorporate greenhouses to keep a steady food supply for their growing village. They kept arguing that current preparation and reliance on fishing was enough. When they refused to listen to the data he'd collected he lost his temper and ended up punching one of them.

Thankfully the walk and the waves were helping. And then he heard the giggling, laughing screams. Mace knew there were no other villages nearby and no one else in his own village would be out here. Curious, he walked carefully towards the sounds.

That's how he found the three women, naked, swimming in the rough waters and laughing. As his shock fades, he finds himself smiling, mesmerized by the women and their laughter. It takes a while for him to realize his presence might scare them so he turns to walk away but trips over something.

He looks at his feet and is dumbfounded to see three sealskins. Certain that it couldn't be what he thought, Mace ran and hid. He needed to make sure. He watched and waited for the women to leave, to not grab the sealskins. So as not to be caught, he hid himself behind the trees so he would only be able to hear them. Occasionally peeking out to see confirm they were still swimming.

As the sun was reaching the horizon, he heard footsteps approaching. Carefully peering out from behind the tree he saw Harvey, another man from his village who was a strong candidate for leadership in the village. Thinking he was looking for him, Mace headed towards Harvey but stopped short when he saw Harvey pick up one of the sealskins and grin.

“Harvey? What are you doing?”

The other man turned in surprise and tried to run but Mace was too fast. He caught him and pulled him into a hold.

“Again, what are you doing, Harvey?”

“They're selkies,” Harvey confessed. “My grandfather told me about this beach. Said it's how he got himself a wife. Figured I'd do the same.”

“You can't be serious,” Mace scoffed.

“It's true! I know it sounds crazy but they're actually selkies!”

“No,” Mace scolded. “You can't seriously expect me to believe this is how you want to get yourself a wife!”

“What? It's not like they're real people,” Harvey scoffed. “Are you upset because you're one of them? Well guess what, I'm descended from them, too! It's okay!”

Mace adjusts his hold so that he's choking Harvey. “Drop the sealskin. Go home. And never come to this beach again.”

“You don't have the right! I've got the pull of the entire village. If I tell them you've threatened me, you'll be kicked out.”

“At least I won't be a monster,” Mace growled. He tightened his grip until Harvey finally dropped the skin. When he did, Mace practically threw the man in the direction of the village. “I'll be watching you,” he vowed, his voice tight with menace. Harvey gave him a sneer but ran back to the village.

Behind him he hears, “well that was very brave of you.” He turns around and sees one of the women he'd been watching. As a show of good faith he steps away from the sealskin. She quickly grabs it up, “I only have a minute to get this on before the sun goes down.” Grabbing the front of Mace's shirt she pulls him towards her and gives him a deep kiss. “Next time we'll talk.”

She turns and runs back to the water, joining the other two and quickly putting on her sealskin. The three seals swim away from the beach as the sun sets and Mace knows his life has changed forever.

Tagging @alicedopey; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] A New Use for a Crown (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: (What great weather! Let’s dry the laundry quickly.)

Masumi: I’ll help you, Director.

Izumi: Oh! Masumi-kun, thank yo—ah.

Masumi: …

Izumi: Whoops… I’ll give you 100 yen later.

Masumi: …Sure.

Izumi: In any case, switching the way you call someone is pretty hard… (Seeing Masumi-kun with a crown on is pretty refreshing though…)

-pause-

Masumi: Great job today, Director. I made tea, so have some.

Izumi: Ah, Masumi-kun…

Masumi: …

Izumi: Oops, I did it again… (I’m glad that he’s helping me out like this, but I can’t stop myself from calling him by his name.) (Plus there a penalty, so it kind of feels like I'm being subjected to the carrot and stick approach...)

Masumi: Sorry, Director. It’ll just be a little longer.

Izumi: O-Okay? (Just what in the world is he up to?)

-pause-

Izumi: (I still call him Masumi-kun a lot, but since then, I’ve gradually grown used to calling him “prince”). (Today, I’ll call him prince from the get-go…!)

Masumi: Director.

Izumi: (And here's my chance!) Good morning, prince.

Masumi: …! Good morning, my princess.

Izumi: (I got a response I didn’t expect. W-Welp, I’m feeling kinda embarrassed…)

Masumi: Today marks a week passing, so you don’t have to call me prince anymore.

Izumi: Oh right, you’re not wearing the crown right now… (Urgh… now I feel even more embarrassed.)

Masumi: …But I got to hear a nice line to finish it off. By the way, I’m sorry for imposing a penalty on you.

Izumi: Don’t worry about it… what was the thing that you wanted to do though?

Masumi: Wait in the lounge for me.

-pause-

Izumi: (I was so busy these last few days, but it looks like I’ll be able to relax today.)

Azami: Oh, your skin's lookin’ brighter now.

Izumi: Azami-kun. Maybe the face masks you gave me the other day were effective! Not to mention Masumi-kun also helped me out a ton.

Azami: I see, that’s nice.

*door opens*

Masumi: I’m back.

Izumi: Welcome back, Masumi-kun.

Azami: Hm? Is that bag full of ice cream?

Masumi: I bought them because I want Director to eat them.

Izumi: Gudiva, Baagen Dazs, and Madam Borden*—all of the ice creams are expensive, seasonal flavours…!

Masumi: You seemed really busy lately, so I wanted to give you something that would cheer you up. You probably would’ve liked curry, but it’s hot out right now.

Izumi: I can’t believe you were thinking of that… Thank you, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Here’s your money back too.

Izumi: Huh?

Masumi: I wanted to give you something that covered your penalty fee, so I just used it as reference for the amount I should buy.

Azami: I see. It was like a surprise then. Nice goin’.

Izumi: Yeah, I’m really happy. Thank you so much.

Masumi: You’re very welcome.

Izumi: Alright, I suppose I’ll have one right away then.

Masumi: They're all yours, so you’re on break until you finish every last one of them. Stay here.

Izumi: Wait, what!

Azami: He went from 0 to 100 real fast… Anyways, eatin’ too much isn’t good either, y’know?

Masumi: But there’s guys who will take them if we leave them in the freezer.

Azami: True. There might be some people who’ll eat ‘em without checkin’ whose they are first.

Izumi: In that case, can we at least eat them together? We can scoop out all the different flavours onto a plate.

Masumi: Sure.

Izumi: Even then, it might be too much to finish… (I’m on break until I finish eating this ice cream… if that’s the case.) Say, Masumi-kun. If you don’t mind, why don’t we make it “ice cream time” together until we finish eating everything?

Masumi: Ice cream time?

Izumi: Like Azami-kun said, I don’t think eating too much is a good idea either. So let’s make some time everyday to eat this ice cream as a break. And for that, let’s put them in a bag with our names written on it and place it in the back of the freezer so it won’t get swiped.

Azami: I see. I agree no one’s gonna overlook the bag. And it’ll be fine if you just get through ‘em little by little each day.

Izumi: Even so, I think it’s going to take quite a while to finish them all. Masumi-kun, if you happen to have some time as well, then why don’t we eat them together?

Masumi: That sounds good. Just call me, and I’ll come over right away every day.

Izumi: Fufu. Alright, then we’ll make today the first day.

Masumi: Once we run out of ice cream, I’ll go buy more. I can do ice cream time with you every single day.

Azami: Err, there’s somethin’ called a limit, y’know?

Izumi: Ahaha…

---

*Parodies on the brands Godiva, Haagen Dazs, and Lady Borden.

previous |

[asena-graywolf]

I wrote deaf reader with Kuro before, and now i write blind reader with Aone

————————————————————————————————————————

Hero Who I Can’t See

You took Mai's arm and walked to where she took you. She warned you before you entered the hall she mentioned

“Watch out, there is a step in front of you”

You heeded her warning. She took your hand to take the step in front of her and made you climb

You took Mai's arm again. You realized that you entered the volleyball training hall from the ball and squeaking sounds you heard around you.

“More power to you,guys!” he called to the volleyball team of Dateko, who was training.

“We have a guest today. Her name is y/n. Our families have camaraderie. We are childhood friends. We hadn't seen each other in a while, so I wanted to introduce you while she was here.”

While some of the men in the hall were fascinated by your beauty, others found your blank stares very strange. But you were not aware of any of this.

Mai released your arm. You couldn't walk around the hall, but as you could tell from the voices, the people Mai wanted to introduce you to were just a few steps away.

Seeing you walking with outstretched hands to look around, Kamasaki and Futakuchi were whispering among themselves.

"Can't she see?" he whispered softly to Kamasaki

"Didn't you notice she took Mai's arm on the way here?" Kamasaki replied in the same way.

As you walked, you suddenly felt like you had bumped into something as hard as a wall. But two strong hands held your shoulders.

“Oh!! Well…sorry” you said with a embarrassed expression

Everyone in the hall noticed Aone's surprised look at you.

"You're lucky he didn't see you, Aone," laughed Futakuchi from behind

Aone glared at Futakuchi. That was enough for Futakuchi to stop babbling.

You could recognize who the other person was by their voice and by touching their face. You raised your arms and your palms touched Aone's face. The tips of his thumb were touching Aone's forehead.

“Where are your eyebrows?” you chuckled

Everyone in the room started laughing. You ran your hands over every inch of Aone's face so you could memorize her features. Now you've written it in your mind.

Then you took a step back and talked about yourself

“I want to meet all of you. But unfortunately I can't see it. I lost my sight completely due to trachoma disease as a child. But I can get to know you better by touching your face.”

“It's an honor to meet you y/n-san,” Moniwa replied.

You met everyone by touching their faces one by one and wrote down their facial features in your memory.

Everyone was pleased to meet you. They also did not see the visual disability as an obstacle in their relationship with you. But you were supposed to be under the supervision of someone in the hall. If the thrown ball came in your direction, you wouldn't notice it.

That's why Mai sat next to you. If the ball came towards you, he would watch over you.

Although Moniwa also warned them, Kamasaki and Futakuchi did not pay much attention to the warning. The ball hit you from the first day you met. The ball moved so fast that no one, including Mai, could prevent the ball from hitting your head.

You were hurt, and you held your head with your hand.

"Hey, please just be careful!" he got up and shouted

Then Moniwa warned them a second time harshly.

“Aren't you two going to become wiser? The ball hit the girl from day one! Is it too hard to play a little bit carefully?”

“Sorry y/n-chan,” Futakuchi said shyly.

"I’m sorry y/n-chan," said Kamasaki as well.

Mai approached you and looked where the ball came from.

"Are you ok? Did it hurt?"

“A little” you replied

“Looks like it's going to swell”

Mai asked Aone, who was standing near

“Aone, could you get ice?”

Aone nodded and brought ice from the freezer in the living room. You heard their steps coming towards you and extended your hand to take the ice.

You were extending your hand in a completely different direction and you were not aware of it. Aone gently placed the ice in your palms. You felt the coldness of the ice in your palms and you took it and put it where the ball hit

"Are you ok?" asked Aone.

You heard your voice for the first time

You answered briefly, “Yes”

Moniwa also came close and apologized to you on their behalf.

“You don't mind them, y/n-chan. Unfortunately, they don't listen to reason."

"No problem. I'm sorry, Moniwa-kun, for causing you trouble."

“Oh no way! You are our guest” he said politely and generously.

At the end of the training, Mai escorted you home. You took the subway together

"How was it? Did you have some fun?" he asked you

"A lot. Even though I couldn't see what was going on around me, I still had a great time. Everyone on your team is so kind.”

“I think you're excluding Futakuchi and Kamasaki from that. Because they never sit still and their disputes never ends,” he laughed.

"Why?" you asked curiously

"I don't know. But I can say this much, if Futakuchi doesn't mess with Kamasaki, Kamasaki has nothing to do with Futakuchi."

“Usually Futakuchi initates it”

"Unfortunately. Their friction became the cliché of the team. Aone is also in the position of a fight separator”

You kept saying “Aone…” and then continued.

“This guy…he doesn't talk much, I guess. Because when I met him, he didn't say a word"

"Yes. He doesn't like to talk much. He talks whenever he feels like. That's why he surprises his teammates when he talks. But he is very kind. Although he looks like a scary bully from the outside”

"How? Does he look so scary?”

“He has a stern and serious look. Those who see him for the first time are literally sweating out of fear. But it is not at all what it seems.”

“So that's why Futakuchi “she’s lucky not to see you,” he said. But if he was really kind, I wouldn't be afraid if I could see his face."

“The reactions of people who know him for the first time are often not positive. You are the first person to think positively about him”

“You say so?”

"Yes"

You noticed how big his hand was when you shook hands with him.

“He's 1.90 tall isn't he? His hands were huge and as far as I could feel, his size was also big," you said while remembering.

“A little over 1.90. He’s the tallest player of the team and the strongest middle blocker.”

“I guessed”

From that day on, you visited the salon with Mai whenever you were available. You had become one of that team as you started to come in and out of the hall more and more.

In order not to be a burden to Mai and everyone who has accompanied you to find directions, you started using the visually impaired cane. Now you could find your direction more easily

That evening you got off the subway alone. You missed the first train and waited for the second. The area was extremely quiet. You could have been the only person on the subway. Or so you thought. You were always afraid of being alone in any place. Because when you were alone, you couldn't take care of yourself like normal people. Visual impairment was the biggest factor in this

You felt someone approaching you.

“Hey beauty! What about play blind man's buff with us?”

“No need to blindfold”

It was the voice of two young men, and it was clear that it belonged to strangers you hadn't heard before. You were getting scared and now you'd rather be alone on the subway

"Who are you! Go away or I'll call the police!”

“Oh really! In your blind state?" they laughed

“We just wanted to play a little. What were you mean?"

“I told you to get out!”

You tried to swing your cane in self-defense. But the abusers weren't at the point where you swung. Trying to attack them with your blindness had become fun for them and they started to come more and more.

“I think we will play with a real blind person”

“It will be funny”

"Don't touch me!" As you went back, your back hit someone's chest and you almost had a heart attack from fear.

But the abusers were idolized where they were.

"Dude, if we don't get out of here soon, this guy will run over us"

“Look at him! He’s like a giant”

You didn't know who the person behind you was. You thought you were cornered but that person was your savior

“Leave the lady alone!” You heard a solemn and menacing voice that sounded familiar to you.

But you couldn't make it out and couldn't remember the sound

Who are you? you said inside

“Get lost!”

You heard the harassers running away when the familiar voice gave a menacing command for the second time.

You had calmed down a bit and wanted to know who the savior was.

"Are you ok?"

You are one step closer to recognizing the voice when it asks you in the same tone and the same way

"Who are you?" you asked

“Y/n, it's Aone. Didn't you recognize my voice?"

"No. Sorry. We haven't been able to chat much with you. That's why I couldn't make a sound. If you let me touch your face, I can be convinced that you really are Aone"

Aone let you touch his face. You touched his facial features again, which you wrote in your memory. When you felt with your hand that he had no eyebrows, you were absolutely sure that it was Aone.

“It’s really you, Aone. Thank you. Really. You’re so nice person”

You touched his shoulders and lowered your hands down to his arms

You repeated "thank you so much"

"I am pleased that you are well. They didn't hurt you, did they?" asked Aone.

"No. But if you hadn't, maybe they would have hurt you."

"Don't worry. They will never dare to do such a thing again.”

Thank you, my hero that I can't see… you said inside

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Since you mentioned the North and South comic, I've been meaning to ask you how do you feel about pre-contact vs post-colonialism fiction about natives?

The one reason I like atla is because the mixture of fantasy with ancient cultures and seeing glimpses of how people lived in the past. The water tribes had little accurate representation and presence, so I was always up for more in-depth stuff about the tribes after the war.

But with this comic, the tribe faces foreign influences and loss of culture becomes the theme of the comic without really showing it (before the war). Sometimes, I'm left frustrated with a lot of post-colonialism fiction as it defines natives by their oppression and not how they live.

However, like you mentioned, the comic tried to tackle complex topics such as loss of culture, disagreements within the tribe, and exploitation of land and resources. I know that it's a reality for many native people today and that it's good to shed light on these issues from their perspective, not from an outsider's (which is typically what I've seen). Yet, I feel I would have a greater understanding of issues like the loss of culture, if I actually got to know it.

So specifically, I want to ask what comes to mind about these two approaches about natives in fiction? If there's some things you're drawn to, some you aren't, and what you'd like to be considered.

I think a post-colonialism take on Native stories isn't a bad thing, but, as with any story involving or inspired by a marginalized people, it requires an understanding of the culture it's trying to portray. Look at how avatar handles Water Tribe characters, now look at Smoke Signals, Reservation Dogs, Molly of Denali, even Anne with an E did a better job. It's the same as a pre-colonialsm take on stories. Look at Disney's Pocahontas and Brother Bear vs Prey or Atanarjuat: the Fast Runner.

You've framed this as pre-contact vs post-colonialism, but the problems of native fiction written by non-natives are not so neatly folded into a dichotemy like this. It all stems from writing what one doesn't know without questioning one's perception.

It's not controversal to say anti-native racists consider native cultures to be invalid as human cultures. We are not like the Ancient Greeks or Romans to them, but backwater savages. The Greeks and Romans had cultures suited to be aspirational, their philosophies solid, their religions fit for artistic depiction and study, and most compelling of all, their histories were recorded in the written word. Many who held them up as the pinnacle of civilization in the past, and many who still do today, considered our philosophies quaint and primitive, our religions savage and godless, and our histories mere stories for children. It may be a touch controversal to say the common perceptions of us still follow that belief, but that doesn't make it untrue. When writing about us, the non-native tends to consider our cultures too unimportant to "get right" or even try depicting. And when we point this out, they may get defensive and say their story is not a documentary and how could they possibly write characters meant to be one of us as belonging to a people with its own culture.

The thing is, there are many ways to show culture through setting up a scene or character actions, it's just hard to understand when you don't understand things like a cross on the wall or a pumpkin carved into a lantern or buying a sausage on white bread with tomato ketchup, yellow mustard, and occasionally sweet pickle rellish and onions from a vendor cart is a cultural experience and not a universal one. A character having football gear and a job at a burger joint at age 16 tells us about the culture they live in, not just about the character. One of the reasons i keep saying Legend of Korra was a step is that we actually see Water Tribe interiors with stuff.

Take, for example, the opening scene of Legend of Korra:

Look at the background! There's a line to hang things up to dry, a ladder that might be used to get into a cellar space, and what look to be storage containers everywhere. It's so clearly lived in.

And for another example, this shot of Tonraq discussing with the tribe

The walls are lined with tools, decorations, storage and possibly a stack of bedding? Tonraq and his family sitting close to the doorway is a nice cultural touch, though the implications of humility on their parts may have been unintended

Meanwhile, the closest the original series got to this with in terms of domestic Water Tribe spaces was the room Bato was staying it with decorative skins on the walls, shown below.

On that topic, i think it's more than fair to say this episode is more remembered for the introduction of June and Aang feeling like an outsider than Bato and how he tried to feel more at home. This wouldn't be bad in a vacuum. I don't fault anyone for finding a hot, snarky badass with a neat steed that is also her hound and a whip and skull hair accessory more memorable than the characters' dad's friend, and having an episode revolve around a character feeling insecure in their importance with their friends belonging to a culture and family that they've never really been a part of or have a history with is a good call for a children's cartoon, especially in the political climate it aired in. The problem lies in the fact that they don't get to meet anyone from the Water Tribes again until the North Pole, and at that point, culture is treated as an obstacle rather than a source of identity. When Zuko can succeed as a firebender, a leader, and a morally decent person it's because the Fire Nation was good before suddenly deciding to be an imperial power a century ago and can still be redeemed. When Katara succeeds as a waterbender and a warrior in her own right it's because she called out her own people for bullshit cultural standards that apparently no one before her questioned. That doesn't feel fair to the cultures the creative team took so much aesthetic influence from.

Alright, that's enough zeroing in on avatar and its meh approach to Water Tribe worldbuilding.

Even outside of material things, culture is displayed by living. A quiet smile and nod instead of a wave is a display of culture. Choosing not to whistle at night is a display of culture. Jokes like "as in the feather not the dot" are displays of culture. The act of cooking up frybread for the potlatch is a display of culture. If you can make less direct references to a character being queer, you can do it for characters being native too.

I think another thing non-native creators should keep in mind is why. Why is the character native or native coded? This isn't an attack, nor is it to say you need to justify having a native OC. Natives are a marginalized people and being perceived in odd and othering ways, even subconsciously and sometimes even by oneself, comes with the territory. For a fandom example of why you should probably ask why: I'm in the Homestuck fandom and I came upon a post about headcanon ethnicities for the characters and among them the only one the op considered could be Native American (and only "Native American" while others got to be French and German and the like) was Equius. Now, you can't make accurate assumptions and especially shouldn't circulate rumors based on subjective fandom contributions, but if you're making such a contribution to fandom, you really should ask yourself why the only character you can see as native is an uncomfortably sexual, controlling young man with long hair, a racist sense of superiority, a need to beat things up, and an affinity for archery and horses.

Is the character native just because you felt like having a native character, or do you perhaps feel obligated to fulfill a diversity quota without seeing the need to diversify charcters deeper than just in skintone? Is the character's identity as a native person important, or do you just need a character to be nigh fantastically part of the land they live on? Are you wanting to depict a rich, underrepresented culture with a lot of history behind it and love in the struggle to keep it alive when so many want to tear it from its people and destroy it, or is the outsider's understanding built on stereotypes and exotified to hell and back just too alluring to pass up? Basically, if you are a non-native creator with a native character, how much do they read like the observations of media made in Sherman Alexie's poem "How to Write the Great American Indian Novel"? And what are you, as a non-native creator with a native character, doing to understand why you may be writing them that way?

Stories about natives pre-assimilation can be good, but there's no use if the native characters are needlessly exotified and/or blatant racist caricatures, regardless of if they have a non-native (who isn't the assumed audience) to be compared to. Similarly, post-assimilation native stories don't have to be bad or even racist merely by virtue of having non-natives in a position of privilege. If people weren't so horny for our aesthetics, otherness, and sometimes frankly our bodies, and simultaneously so willing to give into the cultural conditioning to see us as lesser peoples, we wouldn't even need to have this conversation. Unfortunately that's not the world we live in. It really shouldn't be too much to ask writers do their due diligence in an era where most people of almost every imaginable walk of life has a device connected to the internet in their home or at their workplace or on their person. Sending an email or a dm or posting about asking for sources, academic or more personal, is not that fucking hard. With how wide the internet, hell even just tumblr, is you're bound to get at least three possible leads. When everyone understands that, maybe all native stories written by non-natives can be okay. I'd love to live to see that day.