#tv static in my head currently

[sunnibits]

god I’m not gonna lie I’m not even trying to be normal about that old man anymore

#having a really normal one folks (lie) #god fuck I can’t. I #fucking. #gfcbhkkmbg #tv static in my head currently #microwave noises #certain pictures #jesus fuck

[fankhx-invasion]

even though you didn’t post the ask meme ur still getting it, gimme ur top 5 fuckable kiss members BUT ranked based on how many shots you’d need to hook up with them, also take this eric as a thank you for being one of my favorite mutuals 💛

I love you and awwright less do this-

1. Eric Carr, I wanna ride that man so bad-

I'd need at least 2 shots because I have terrible anxiety and I am NOT brave-

2. Paul Stanley, and the anxiety is through the roof even being in the presence of this man because holy fuck he's so fucking sexy, I need 4 shots for confidence.

3. Ace Frehley and somehow I getting the vibe of absolutely no shots needed-

4. Gene Simmons, I want that tongue on and in me and in order to even approach him Imma chug an entire bottle-

5. Tommy, I mean he makes a normal guitar look small.

At least drunk because i know otherwise I'd be weak in the KNEES looking up at him towering over me, especially as Spaceman-

#im sorry if this makes no sense my head feels like tv static and i am currently running on two cans of pepsi

[milf-harrington]

hi i wrote a short little something inspired by this post bc it wouldn't leave my head

season 2 canon divergence, in the aftermath of Steve being taken in by Hopper (don't ask me why it's happened, bc i dont know it's just how the story took shape in my head)

--

Steve was pulling a pizza out of the oven when El drifted into the kitchen, bumping hear head against his arm like one of the Henderson's cats. Her hair was starting to curl at the ends, longer than when he'd met her.

"Can you please tell Hop to go to the store? We are out of Eggo's."

She was already holding the walkie when he turned to give her a look, eyes wide and quietly expectant in that intense way of hers. He rolled his eyes, sucking pizza sauce off his knuckle as he reached for the walkie.

They had a quiet stare-off as he held the button down.

"Hey Hop, you there? Over."

Soft static buzzed through the speaker as El leaned further into him, turning her gaze away to inspect the pizza, before Hopper's voice came through with a crackle.

"I'm working." A pause, and then a reluctant: "Over."

He and Hopper shared a similar opinion on walkie-talkie etiquette, but the kids were insistent so they did their best. El looked from the walkie and back to Steve without blinking. He sighed a short laugh. Pressed the button again.

"Jane needs you to go to the store. Over." Better to use her other name if he was working.

"Eggo's?"

"Eggo's."

Satisfied that her demand request had been passed on, El slipped out of the kitchen and plopped down in front of the tv, crossing her legs underneath her as the screen flickered to life. The remote remained untouched on the bench. She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"Well, I currently have an 18 year old in the back of my car and I'll have to run him to the station first." Another pause. "-ucks sake, over."

The words fell out of his mouth without any real thought, a years worth of comfort in himself dissolving any filter he might've had. "Is he cute?"

The walkie crackled. Steve wanted to smack himself in the head with it.

"My son wants to know if you're cute."

Oh, he was going to kill him, even if he did feel warm and fuzzy over being called Hops' son.

"Uh, I want to say yes, sir?"

There was a second of loud laughter before the walkie cut off and Steve pressed it to his forehead in silent mortification. From the living area, canned laughter from Happy Days burst out of the speakers like the universe was mocking him.

When he looked up, El was smiling at the screen in bemused wonder, colours flashing across her face.

He cleared his throat, eyes shut as he held down the button again. "Please remember the Eggo's on your way home, we're having pizza. Over and out."

He pressed the antenna down for his own dramatics, before quickly pulling it back out again so he could be reached for emergencies.

It wasn't that big a deal, it's not like he'd ever actually meet whoever had been in the car.

#eddie in the back of the cop car: 'yknow you're meant to say 'over' when you're done talking-' #i might add more to this later bc i had another idea while i was writing but idk #technically this is steddie but idk if i wanna tag it that way bc eddie is BARELY mentioned and it's not even by name #but this is steddie #so #steddie #steve harrington #my writing #stranger things ficlet

[screams-in-writing]

oops my hands slipped

what do you mean I’m obsessed over this man? I have no idea what you could possibly mean I think I like him…a normal amount. :)

A lazy day off would have been the same old, same old, had you not met a certain someone several months ago. A certain someone who appeared to have gotten it into mind that these days off were for the two of you to dote upon one another, not run errands.  

That certain someone sure did love having your full undivided attention on him; delighted in every second of it, come to think of it. The novelty of being in the company of someone who wanted to be there. And when his mind wasn’t on his never-ending quest for high-ratings and whatever else he had planned (that he had yet to reveal), he showered that attention back on you with an intensity that bordered on almost alarming.

Mr. Puzzles was quite an intense individual when he was focused.

Which was why you were currently stuck in bed in your pajamas at ten in the morning, the man alongside you clearly requiring attention from the way he’d been curled up around you from behind for hours and hours.

For the time being, he was quite content to use you as a body pillow while he hummed some new song he wanted to implement into some future show. It was a novelty to Mr. Puzzles to be integrated into a team, after being on his own tor so long trying to do everting himself. It was slow going to convince him it’d turn out well; at the very least, he hadn’t dragged anyone into the world he held within his head for…at least a month, if that. He could be very passionate if an idea grasped him in the moment.

The static currently emanating from Mr. Puzzles’ face was a nice, warm and ticklish sensation to you; likely why he’d craned down to press the screen to the nape of your neck after avoiding the hair this past hour.

Muffled laughter sounded over the squirm of surprise from you when his arms gently squeezed tighter around your middle.

There came a light, heavy two to the side of your neck.

Then again, slower this time.

Nuzzling was awkward but somehow, the man with a tv for a head was able to make it work, somehow managing to be even closer to you as he pressed in to firmly rub his screen into neck and occasionally, shoulder, through fabric.

A cheerful morning news show clip briefly played in response to you asking him if he was awake and not just laughing in his sleep with automated laughs.

Tease. 

With a wriggle backward, Mr. Puzzles reluctantly loosened his arms from around you to allow you to turn over in arms. From the expectant expression displayed on the screen tilted down toward you right now, Mr. Puzzles had an idea of what you wanted. 

After receiving silent consent in the form of leaning his body, and in turn, his tv head closer, you reached up to lightly trace fingers along his screen. The light touch made Mr. Puzzles’ face and multi-colored smile switch briefly into static gray and white fuzz before a pleased expression popped up with a great big doofy grin that hid the, as you liked to call it, ‘crazy unhinged madman that trapped people like puppets in his head’.

It was a work in progress, that.

No, you did not want Mr. Puzzles to trap your coworkers in the world inside the tv he held sway over, even if you couldn’t help but laugh at the antics initially as well as the absurdity of it being possible (right along with a man who had a tv for a head). Right before scolding the man and making him reluctantly relinquish the unwilling participants aka a small number of your coworkers.

Currently, Mr. Puzzles face sagged into your touch, hands bracing on either side of your shoulders to loom over you without falling over. A quick, sneaky turn of one of the dials on the left side of his head made him jerk his body to the side and back. But then with a sly look, indulged you by briefly playing some cheesy romcom on the screen before Mr. Puzzles’ made his move when one of your hands went to shoulder. 

Gently, carefully, he leaned his lanky body over so his screen could press to your face, making you close you eyes to enjoy the odd sensation of electrical currents and fuzzy static as a teasing voice spoke from the speaker of the tv.

“I see you, my newest star actor, quite close up. Have you anything to say to your…riveted watcher?”

“Your watcher of one for the morning?” Blindly reaching up, you turned the screen down a tad and planted a big ole kiss on the dumbass’ screen with an overdone ‘mwah’ sound. “How’s that for an answer, Mr. Host of one?”

Static sparked out the top of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna and the sides of his screen. His tv head briefly jerked back, revealed a slightly unhinged, if very intense look fixed directly on you.

“Quite the compliment, I’d say.” Mr. Puzzles purred, tone a little deeper as static overlapped his voice, digital eyes intent on you. “Would you care to do a repeat performance? To see if it was truly a 5-star rating for my show of one?”

You dragged this smug asshole man down by the shoulders to pepper his screen face in kisses while he mock-defended himself with dramatic flair. Then, all at once, Mr. Puzzles rolled the two of you over on the bed so you could sprawl yourself comfortably on top of him, playing with the collar of his dress shirt as he similarly fidgeted with your hair.

“Are you quite certain you don’t want to be my co-host?” Mr. Puzzles prodded with a wide screen across the screen.

“You asked me that already.” You pointed out, a faint shudder rolling through you as Mr. Puzzles leaned up to rest the side of his boxy tv head against your own to whisper smoothly, lowly, conspiringly.

“Until you give me a direct answer, my dear.”

#smg4 mr puzzles #Smg4 mr #smg4 mr puzzles x reader #x reader #come get y’all’s man #Forgive any mistakes I typed this on a phone at the end of the workday #TFW you realize you want to smooch a man with a tv for a head but not anyone in irl #my writing snippets

[i9messi]

hii! i haven't seen alot of people write for João Felix so i wanted to request a João Felix x Reader where reader does a prank on Felix by calling him another guy's name and maybe in the end they cuddle and Felix is lying is head on Reader's chest! It's currently 12AM for me and i was craving some Joao Felix 😭! Take care of yourself, love you!<3

Wrong name — João Félix

Word count — 742

joão's masterlist

"What did you say?"

You looked at your boyfriend, noticing that the expression on his face changed completely. He had been smiling moments before, but now he seemed confused and intrigued by the name that had come from your lips.

The thing is, you had asked him to hand you the TV remote, but you had used another name to call him. That had left him static in his place, with a frown on his beautiful face.

"Sorry, João."

"You said Nico. Who is Nico?"

"No one, I just- I got confused."

You were playing a prank on him to find out what his reaction was, you just wanted to know how he was going to react to hearing you call him by another name, and you were watching him right now. He didn’t like it at all.

"How can you get my name wrong? I’m your boyfriend."

"Sorry babe." You tried to act innocent and of course, João didn’t even believe you.

"Who’s Nico?"

"João, I just got confused for a second."

"Fine."

João got up from the coach, in a complete silence that made you realize that you had ruined everything. You didn’t think he’d take it so badly, maybe you expected him to ask a few questions, but not that he seemed offended. You also got up from the coach where you were sitting and tried to hold his hand. Your boyfriend kept walking.

"Babe, don’t get mad, it was just a mistake."

"I’m not mad."

João was so serious, it was obvious that he was angry about your supposed mistake. Hell, you didn’t expect him to be angry. Your boyfriend kept walking and you looked at his back.

"Then, why are you leaving?"

"You better go talk to Nico, whoever that guy is."

João went to the room you shared, closing the door behind him. You thought his anger would go away quickly and he would surely realize that his jealousy was silly, but he didn't return. João didn’t used to be a jealous boyfriend, he usually knew that you were in love with him and you were his. That’s why you decided to play that prank too, thinking he wouldn’t be mad at you.

As you already felt bad about what had happened, you went in search of him. João was lying on the bed, looking at the ceiling. His eyes joined for a moment, until he turned his attention back to the ceiling.

"C'mon babe, we should talk." You walked by his side.

"Won’t you get confused with my name this time?"

"João... it was a prank. I wanted to see how you would react if I called you by another name. I didn’t think you would get angry."

João looked at you silently, beginning to understand that there was no one else in your life. João was your boyfriend and you loved him with all your heart, just like he loved you. Before you met him you didn’t used to believe in soulmates, until him. Now you were sure he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He was significant to you.

"But-why? It wasn’t even funnier."

"I know, I’m really sorry now. Please, babe..."

You sat up beside him in bed, joining your hands in a grip. Your voice was a much lower volume from where you laid. João stroked your hand, pleased to solve that misunderstanding.

"Could you forgive me? There is no Nico, it was just a prank. I love you and I could never mistake your name."

"It’s fine, pretty."

One way or another, João ended up lying on your chest, his ear stuck to your heart. You caressed her hair, which was completely disheveled. His arms gently came around you, securing your place. You could stay like this all day, unwilling to do anything but show your love.

His kisses trailed down your chin, leaving love bites on your neck. You felt his hot, sloppy wet kisses all over your body, especially in your lips. You had to gasp for air, but João still leaned in, eyes closed, lips parted, absolutely wanting more.

"I love you. I know I say it a lot, but I truly mean it." your boyfriend said to you, while your gazes met. "Did you love me?"

"I love you so much, and I never want to hurt you, João."

You had the best boyfriend ever.

#joao felix imagines #joao felix blurb #joao felix fluff #joao felix x reader #joao felix #joão félix #joão felix #football imagines #football player fanfic #football players #chelsea fc #chelsea #portugal

[lunartuness]

Attributes

Some short fluff I couldn't get out of my head about Vox and Alastor teasing the other for their forms. You can read on ao3 if you'd rather: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54024907

“I know you’re supposed to be a big scary Wendigo, and all.” Vox started, breaking the peaceful atmosphere between him and the radio demon. Currently they were on Vox’s sofa in his penthouse, Alastor laying with his head in Vox’s lap and enjoying the light scratches Vox was giving his ears. Or he had been, before Vox opened his big mouth. The light jazz that had been playing from nowhere came to an abrupt halt. Alastor’s ears twitched in annoyance when Vox stopped rubbing them.

“Supposed to be?” Alastor looked up through narrowed eyes, a staticky filter over his voice.

“Are, you are, of course.” Vox frantically amended, seeing the glint of sharp teeth Alastor was bearing at him. He resumed his petting quickly. “But you gotta admit, when you’re in your normal form, your deer attributes are pretty cute.”

“Oh?”

If Vox wasn’t as much of a simp he might’ve heeded the warning in Alastor’s tone. Instead, he continued on, never one to turn down an invitation to gush about the other. “I mean, your soft fuzzy ears you can’t fully control” Vox spoke fondly, idly scratching in a spot he knew Alastor couldn’t resist, eliciting a pleased hum from the deer despite himself. “Your tiny cute antlers make you look absolutely darling, and that sweet little tail you hide away certainly-”

Vox suddenly found himself unable to speak, quite literally. Alastor sat up from his lap, grinning cruelly at the now annoyed TV.

“Your attributes make me rather fond of you as well, love.” He laughed at the mute sign covering Vox’s mouth.

A grumpy Vox glared back at him. Subtitles filtered across the bottom of his screen. “I gave you that remote as a sign of trust you asshole.”

“And I let you play with my tail as a sign of trust, seems like we were both fools, no?” Alastor said with no real heat behind it.

The two glared in standoff, just long enough for Alastor to consider unmuting Vox when the other lunged.

He pounced onto his prey, catching Alastor so off guard he couldn’t help the nervous little grunt he made or the way his ears folded down and his tail shot fully up and alert (for a fucking herd that didn’t exist, one day he’d finally cut that monstrosity off).

Vox grinned victoriously, easily flipping the wide-eyed deer beneath him so he could tug and play with that oh so adorable tail he loved. Just because he was muted doesn’t mean both of them had to be silent, he figured.

Alastor allowed it for a minute, rolling his eyes and thankful he couldn’t see whatever nonsense Vox was surely spewing across his screen instead of his usual very vocal tirade. He really should mute the other more often. Still, he indulged the TV, giving in to the little moans and sighs he felt compelled to make, even letting his tail wag as it pleased when he usually tried (and admittedly failed) to control it.

Thinking he’d be rewarded for his polite behavior somehow, it wasn’t until Vox yanked particularly hard on both his tail and ears that Alastor suddenly switched their positions, patience having run out. It seemed Vox needed a reminder of who he was truly playing with.

Vox felt himself slam into the sofa with a jolt hard enough to make his screen glitch briefly. Radio static flooded his senses and the interference from that alone was enough to make him dizzy. Sharp claws sunk into his shoulders as Alastor loomed above him, antlers wide and teeth bared in a painful looking grin. Radio dials overtook his eyes as he cracked his elongated neck, looking for all the world like he was about to devour Vox. Right. Wendigo.

Alastor lunged, stopping his teeth an inch away from Vox’s delicate and exposed wiring at his throat, causing the other to flinch. “You know,” He spoke roughly, static warping his voice into something truly sinister, “I really do wonder what would happen if we tore some of these out.” He laughed darkly and for a second Vox thought he was actually going to find out when instead he was met with a simple kiss to his throat.

“Perhaps an idea for another day though.” Alastor said cheerfully, back in his normal form and sitting up with a wide grin, enjoying the shaky dazed look his partner beneath him had.

Unmuting Vox, he nuzzled the others neck again, careful of his antlers as he showed his affection.

Beneath him, Vox let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding (not that he even needed to breathe).

“You’re one fucking creepy-ass cryptid, you know that right?” He spoke with resignation, begrudgingly arching his neck and exposing it more to allow the other to scent properly.

“Mm, and that is why you love me, my dear.” Alastor spoke happily, still licking and nipping lightly at his partner’s wires, careful not to apply too much pressure.

“Yeah, I guess.” Vox sighed, relaxing into the touch and letting the moment end in peace.

“Your tail is still the fucking cutest thing ever though.”

Both deer and TV felt a light shock when Alastor bit down hard enough to cut through one of the wires. It was fine, though. They both knew it wasn’t one of the important ones anyways.

#radiostatic #staticradio #hazbin hotel #Vox #Alastor

[spooky4u]

Spooky Month Lore! AGAIN!

Oh yeah, we're doing this again. For those not in the know, last year I did a basic summary of an ARG that was taking place last spooky month. And this year? I'm doing it again! So, strap in folks, because it's more complicated than last time. And like last time, spoilers for Spooky Month 5.

Alright, so at 3:48 on the last Spooky Month, the TV static hid a familiar looking pattern.

Here we go again. Scanning this code brings you to this image.

Now this image is blurry as all hell, so to change that you got to look at the URL and see that it's a '.webp' image. changing the URL so that it ends in '.jpg' gives us a clearer view.

Aright, we got three links to go to and one incomplete imgur link. For now, let's focus on the patient file. Typing that URL in gives us this.

Now, if you look back at the TV image you see 'Patient #__'. So, it seems that the patient is '#RN'. But then what's the deal with '5f6-7s2'? Well, here's the thing. If you google 'RN 5f6 7s2', the first few results show that it's connected to the chemical 'Plutonium' or the abbreviated version 'Pu', giving us our current answer 'Patient #Pu'.

But that isn't the final answer. I'll explain in a bit, but for now let's go back to the tv image and type in the imgur link for the picture frame.

Now as it turns out, SrPelo tweeted out that the font for the image was a bit confusing and led to people not being able to get into the image. He corrected it on twitter, but incase that tweet gets deleted, here is the link.

www.imgur.com/vMTf01K

Amazin. Now when I first saw and messed around with this image, I think I got the wrong message out of it. Changing the light values of this image took out some letters in a peculiar way.

YOU ARE ERY N

Now, I was on the right track, but I thought that this was like, a name reveal for Skid, with his name being Eryn. Maybe that was intentional, but that wasn't the main thing I was supposed to take out of this. Changing the values in a different way gave me this.

As you see, the letters that disappeared: E, V, T, H, I, G. They all had a different color compared to the rest of the text. But even within the disappeared letters, the letter V stands out as being a slightly different color. But where does that take us? Let's go back to the TV image and focus on the picture frame.

"#_lowcase". This implies that we are looking for a number and a lowercase letter. Taking the letters and rearranging them gives us:

'E, I, G, H, T, V". The number 8, and the letter V.

And putting that in the format that the phrase is demanding, we get '8v'. So, the solution to the picture frame imgur is '8v'.

One more link, and it's a YouTube link. punching that in gives us a security cam video.

Security_Camera_VIDEO_131518190503150405 - YouTube

Now if you watch the video, the security light in the bottom right goes bonkers around halfway thru. This is morse code. I'm not going to show you the beeps and bops as I don't have it off the top of my head, but all you need to know is that it translated to something like this.

"B . U P C A S E C . Y "

There was more that it translated to, but it was kind of random compared to what we have here. Assuming that the periods indicate a new letter, turning that phrase into a three-digit input gives us this.

'bCy' And that's what we take away from that video. Back to the TV image!

We are now going to try and construct that imgur link on the red book. Seeing that # sign on the 6th digit gives us a clue that '8v' are the last two digits, as 8 is the only number that can fill that numbered slot. But where does that put 'Pu' and 'bCy'? Well, to figure that out, let's look one more time at the patient file.

See that undercase p at the very beginning of 'pATIENT', a seven letter word? Seven letters... Seven needed imgur digits... That lowercase p not only indicates that 'Pu' goes first, but it also says that the P needs to be lowercase. And that only leaves one place where 'bCy' can go.

Plugging this link in gives us this.

Oh god,

LATIN.

Don't worry, you don't need to translate it, we're only working with individual letters. Though, to be completely honest, I'm not sure how well I'm going to be able to explain this. But I'm going to try my damned hardest!

okay, so...

I circled 9 different looking red symbols. The bottom right one is hard to see, but if you zoom in enough, you'll see. Some symbols have just dots, one of them has just a line, and some of them have dots and a line.

This is a numbering system.

Maya numerals to be exact. Basically, if you have a horizontal line, add 5 to the number of dots that are above it. We have numbers 1 - 9 here. The exact number of digits that are missing from the YouTube URL at the top of the image. So, presumably, if we had each digit that each numeral related to, we could fill in the YouTube URL in the numeral's order! But what does each numeral correspond to? Let's get the easier ones out of the way.

We have 4 numerals that are directly correlated with a digit. 5 is right underneath an uppercase K. 6 is underneath an uppercase V that was edited to make it an uppercase W instead. Same with 9 but lowercase. And 7 is correlated with a lowercase z. So right now, we have this for our YouTube URL.

____62KWz_w

Great start!

...But now what? The rest of the numerals are floating in dead space with no obvious correlation to a specific letter, and it would take forever to try and brute force it. So, what do we do? I now take your attention to the key to this entire puzzle.

A melting candle. Looking into the melting wax, do you see what seems to be drops of red surrounding what appears to be a red circle? Here's what you have to do. By taking a low opacity version of this pic and overlaying it so that each of the remaining numerals sit inside the red circle, we would see that at least one of the drops of red overlays on top of certain letters, correlating a letter to its numeral value. 5 red drops, 5 remaining numerals. Here's what it would look like when it's done.

(Btw, I was in a spooky month ARG discord server when I was trying to figure this out, and it turned out I was the first person to get the URL correctly! This is the image that I shared with the people there. We wouldn't have been able to do it if we weren't all in the same server sharing our different strategies for this puzzle, so shout out to all of them!)

Reconstructing the URL with the values that we got, with the numerals giving us order, gave us this video.

Spooky. Taking that audio and putting through a spectrogram gives you this.

However, if you listen closer to the audio, there is more morse code. Translating that code into words, and thus the final answer to this ARG gives you this.

"DON'T HIDE IN THE DARKNESS JOIN WITHIN MY BRIGHTNESS FOR THE VESSEL HAS ROTTEN YOU WILL BE NOT FORGOTTEN"

And that's the end of the ARG! The last ARG had a result similar to this, with a rhyming passage to finish it off. So, it's safe to assume that at the end of all the Spooky Month ARGs we will have a completed poem through all the rhyming passages.

That'll be cool to figure out, but until next time. Stay spooky!

#spooky month #skid and pump #sm skid #sm pump #spooky month ARG

[illunicae]

Little fluffy snippet of my current WIP that I'm trying to get done as a one shot. It's an human au sort of thing with the rise boys. Oh and it's a mix with FNAF.

After a while the group hug fell apart as everyone got comfortable in the pillows and the movie started. By the end of the movie, Mikey was fighting to stay awake and losing as his eyes were closing for longer blinks. Raph turned off the tv and it didn’t take long for the group to fall asleep on the pile of pillows and mess of blankets.

Waking, you found yourself in a tangle of twisted blankets and flailed limbs. By the sounds of the soft breaths and snores it was clear that the boys were still very much asleep. You could see the soft light of morning just barely starting to peek over the horizon through the living room window. You smiled happily as you let yourself cuddle deeper into the pillows around you. As you let your eyelids slowly drift shut for a few more hours of sleep, you saw a figure with long maroon hair pass by the living room. The figure had paused briefly to glance at the children sleeping in the fort with a soft smile before moving. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel alarmed as you slipped back into slumber. The boys had mentioned their “uncle” before. Maybe you’ll meet the man when you all wake up for breakfast.  

Someone was poking your cheek when you woke up a second time. Bright sunlight warmed your skin, but it also bashed against your eyelids, driving sleep from your body. That and the persistent prodding at your cheek had you groaning and rolling over in an empty pillow pile. You barely registered you were alone in the blanket fort before a voice was hissing your name and the pokes became more insistent. 

“Mikey!” Another voice whisper shouted, “Raph told you to leave her alone and let her sleep.” 

“But she’s hardly sleepin’ now.” Mikey whisper-argued back.

“And whose fault would that be?” 

There was a thick pause and you decided that sleep had truly abandoned you to the waking world. You slowly sat up with a groan, pulling on your wrists above your head to loosen up your joints. The resonating popping made you hum with delight. “I’m up no worries.” You mumbled. The blanket that was resting on your shoulders fell away, bunched around your waist. You rubbed your eyes as you glanced over at the two boys staring at you. 

Mikey giggled as you climbed out of the blanket fort. You could feel the static making some stray hairs cling to the back of your neck; you could also feel that your head was a little top heavy as sleeping on a pile of pillows instead of a proper bed whipped your hair into a wicked updo of bed head. You could tell that Donnie was also holding back a small fit of giggles as you blushed furiously in embarrassment and tried to tame your truly unruly hair. 

You only got it halfway decent before Mikey grabbed your hand to drag you to the kitchen where you smelled something heavenly cooking.

“Pops made panacakes.” Mikey chirped as he pulled you over to the dining table with Donnie trailing behind. 

“It’s PANcakes, Mikey.” Donnie corrected.

“That’s what I said, panacakes.” Mikey nodded.

Your stomach made its interest known as you caught sight of the large stack piled in the middle of the light oak table. Raph and Leo both greeted you as they seemed to be in the middle of setting the table.

“Ay, nice bed head, chica.” Leo called with a chuckle. You stuck out your tongue and ran another hand through your hair.

Everyone eventually settled down around the table to dig into the glorious golden pancakes. A new figure joined your group of five children and one adult around the breakfast table. He was tall; taller than Mr. Yoshi, that's for sure. He had dark maroon hair that reached just past his shoulders and dark eyes of almost the same color. Those eyes filled with warmth as he smiled toward you with a greeting; however, there was something slightly off, something cold and calculated. Your train of thought was derailed though as Mikey cheerfully introduced you to their “uncle” Draxum.

#my writing #work in progress #snippets #Rubatosis fic #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x oc #human rottmnt #fnaf au #rottmnt fnaf crossover

[hinaaspanda]

test me! | j.s

pairing: soccer player! Jake Sim x nerd, fem! reader

warnings: swearing

genre: fluff, angst, crack, childhood friends to lovers, sports

wc: 8,785

Jake Sim knew that Choi Yeonjun, the soccer team's bad boy, was bad news. So naturally, he felt uneasy the moment you revealed your crush on him to your friends. Jake never knew why, but something in him was telling him to stop you, to save you from him. So, what was this almighty, unfailing plan? Pretending to fail at math just so you could tutor him, of course!

a/n; hi again! i'm back with my second enhypen member fic! i'll try my best to regulate my writing schedule in some way but school's starting soon so that plan might just backfire at me hsndhsgja anyways enjoy!

...

Was it so weird to have a crush?

You swear, just two minutes ago, that having a crush wasn’t groundbreaking news. The concept of having feelings for someone wouldn’t stir up an explosion of gasps and illicit noises. Crushes were mundane in your young adult, college life. They never summoned a stupefied face, or a mouth gaping open in shock. 

So why was it so much different for you?

“You have a crush on Choi Yeonjun!?” The 4 friends surrounding your frame all leap forward from the couch, scanning your face. Trying to confirm if you were, in fact, not lying. The buzz of the TV static echoed in Jay’s basement, the TV program growing dry and bland in contrast to the juicy new information. Sunghoon and Nabi—the most eye roll inducing couple in the world—stole repeated glances at you, then at each other, like the audience of a ping pong game watching the ball soar through the air.

Jay, meanwhile, couldn’t feel his eyes pop out of their sockets, the shock stunning his nerves too much. You sat in the middle of the dim lit basement, your shoulders hunching forward at the spotlight you were so hastily thrust upon. How would you have known about the literal shockwaves of feedback from sharing something with your beloved friends. Your brows furrow, throwing up your hands in defense. “Yeah? What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” A hand lifted to Jay’s temple. The silence had scared you shitless as you waited for him to continue. “This is Choi Yeonjun we’re talking about. Don’t you think it’s a little risky?”

You bite at your lip, fingers fumbling with each other as you keep an eye on the ground. You grew silent. Jay definitely wasn’t lying. Choi Yeonjun was an untouchable on your college campus—his entire friend group was. Him and his five friends stood under the spotlight even before you and your friends enrolled two years later. Girls toppled over one another, tripped on their own faces just to get one chance with him. You could admit that falling for Yeonjun was a bit of a reckless move. Your head hung low as you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders. 

“I guess–”

“Don’t worry guys! Y/n can take care of herself just fine!” Nabi chirped, finally ripping herself away from her boyfriend's side, just to latch onto you. She looks at you with a smile. “I got your full support, and I’ll fight anyone who doesn’t!” She stuck her tongue out at Jay’s direction. 

A smile bloomed on your lips, at least someone was supportive. However, that smile quickly faded as you noticed something odd about the room. Jake Sim, the last of the friend group who was oddly quiet, was sitting off to the side, alone. 

You knew Jake Sim. Probably longer than anyone else in the room did. Jake Sim was your best friend, characterized best by his cheerful, loud demeanor. His bright nature and even brighter smile could light up a sea of darkness. Not to mention, his talkative habit could uncover him in a crowd in mere seconds. It reminded you of a golden retriever of sorts.  

Which made this current Jake all the more confusing. 

Jake sat a few spaces away from your spot on the couch, his back resting on the plump leather arm rest and feet sprawled across the surface. A lamp dimly lit on top of him, the almost orange glow casting onto his figure, highlighting his features. The snack bowl, which once resided on the communal coffee table, rested in the middle of his lap as he haphazardly popped chips into his mouth. You assumed he quickly snatched it whilst the rest of your friends went into cardiac arrest after you mentioned your apparently controversial crush. That was what confused you the most: the lack of a reaction from him. 

Jake Sim was quiet for the rest of the night. Odd, considering how much more normal he had been when you guys first started the night. It was as if his voice was snatched away from him. Held captive against his will. Your eyes tried to search for his as the commotion between your three other friends began to rise again. His eyes finally meet yours, but ripped away from your grasp in mere seconds. Your brows furrowed, stomach growing queasy. 

Was Jake that mad about it?

You wanted to get Jake’s attention, but Sunghoon beat you to the punch. “Hey Jake? You good man?”

All eyes were on the golden retriever, who sat spaced out. He jolted back to reality, throwing on his iconic big grin almost instantly. He shrugged, sending another chip flying into his lips. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Sunghoon sent a playful nudge to Jake’s shoulder, and the rest of the group finally let their guards down. You let yourself calm down, too. With your mission for the night being relatively successful. Hungry for more snacks, you scanned the living room for the snack bowl that had just vanished from the coffee table, your eyes meeting something much more confusing. 

Jake was looking at you. 

He didn’t look away this time, his eyes were planted on you. Burning through your skin. Your shoulders hunch over once again, eyes looking back at him. The noisy friends, the world around you, it all faded away, leaving the two of you alone. You gulped, a part of you not able to even glance away.

What was going on in Jake’s mind? 

You cock your head to the snack bowl sitting on his lap, and he regains consciousness once again. Jolting, he nods, handing you the snack bowl before rising up from his seat on the couch. Your eyes follow his escaping figure as he slides past your boisterous friends, who moved onto a completely different topic of conversation. You huff one last sigh before turning your attention back to your friends. Though, you still couldn’t help but glance back at the kitchen—where Jake disappeared— every now and then.

That was weird. 

…

The sky was painted pitch black as you drove home from Jay’s house that night. You had only two light sources available; the street lamps you sped past, and the blue light of the radio in Jake Sim’s car.

It was a normal occurrence for Jake to drive you home on most nights. It was one of the many perks with being best friends with the golden retriever. You’ve known him for all of your life, it was only natural. It saved gas, money, time and energy. It was a convenient option, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Well, except this time.

The air between you and your driver was stark dry. You felt as if you couldn’t move a limb under the pressure of the silence. Your breaths grew shallow as you tried to focus on the flying streetlights. Key word: trying.

Jake was still fairly quiet, mumbling a few words here and there about the weather and how pretty the sky looked. However, this current Jake was nothing like the one you knew and loved. There was something different. Something odd about him. Frankly, you didn’t really enjoy this new, quiet version of Jake Sim. 

“Be honest.” You huffed, catching your driver’s attention. “You hate him, don’t you?”

“Hate who?” He chirped back, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeonjun! The guy I like.”

You took notice of his initial pause. Gulping, you look back out the window of the passenger seat. A bus drives by your view, and you’ve never wanted to hop on the back of one so bad in your life. 

“I don’t hate Yeonjun, what are you talking about? Yeonjun and I are chill, though I’ve only talked to him a few times at practice.” His voice peaked behind you, his tone returning to his cheeky, upbeat default. You felt your chest deflate in relief. However, your brows still furrowed as you shot back with another question. “So why were you acting so weird tonight? You were, like, oddly quiet. It wasn’t like you.”

“Oh…” Jake trailed off. With one hand on the steering wheel, he placed his free arm on the ledge of the window, his hand lifting up to his lips. You watched his neck bob up and down in a gulp. “I was probably just surprised, you know? I never thought you’d go for someone like him.”

You dip your head down, flustered. 

Jake glanced back at you, eyebrows raised as he shines a playful grin. “Yeonjun’s a bit of a bad boy, y/n. You think you can handle it?”

“Piss off!” You whined.

His teasing words earned himself a punch to the shoulder, courtesy of your fist. Jake whined like a child before making eye contact with you again. The two of you throw yourselves into a fit of laughter. You smile. You were glad to have your golden retriever back. 

The two of you fall back into silence as he pulls up to your driveway. Although it wasn’t a tense silence, but rather a comfortable cloud, where the two of you could enjoy your midnight ride without any words. It was the type of silence you had been praying for since the car ride from Jay’s house started. You couldn’t help but smile. Jake parks the car and you latch your fingers onto the door handle, but Jake’s voice stops you frozen. 

“Wait, I have an idea!”

You slowly plop back into your position on the car seat, turning your head to listen to him. You tilt your head to the side, as Jake throws his hands in the air in excitement. 

“What if I help you get with Yeonjun, if you help tutor me for my math exam?”

You froze, confusion lacing your body. Since when did Jake Sim of all people need help with a math exam? You knew him for all 20 years of his life, and not once did he need help in school. Jake had always been at the top of his class, scoring perfect marks and doing so without so much as breaking a sweat. Even as you moved into high school—and later on in college—despite balancing school and his beloved soccer team, Jake never got caught with anything lower than a B+ on his exam paper.

He was what everyone dreamed of being: the perfect student. 

So what was he doing here, asking you for help with math?

“You want my help?”

“I’ve… uh, been out of my game lately. I think it’s from practice, Coach is going way too hard on us.” Jake scratched the nape of his neck. He glances back at you, who hasn’t stopped shooting confused glances at him since.  

“Trust me, you’re my best bet, y/n. You’re smart, probably the smartest one out of all of us. Jay and Sunghoon are kinda hopeless with this kind of stuff. Plus, I can tell you all about Yeonjun during our sessions! Sounds like a sweet deal, right?”

You lean back in the car seat, pursing your lips in thought. Jake was correct about everything. As much as you loved the other two, they were useless when it came to their studies. And, if Jake was right about his claim, his deal didn’t seem that bad at all. Your stomach flips in itself in excitement as you watch Jake hold out a hand. 

“Deal?”

You latch your hand onto his, shaking it firmly. 

“Alright, fine.”

…

Jake Sim, you absolute idiot.

That’s what he told himself, over and over again the minute he got back from driving you home. 

He laid down in the dim blue light of his room, his back seeping into the surface of the mattress as he tossed the soccer ball in the air. He watched mindlessly as the ball floated for a second, before soaring back down to the palm of his hand. All without a thought in his mind, due to the fact that his mind was overwhelmed with the thought of you.

Why did you have to start liking Choi Yeonjun of all people? Everyone, especially the guys on his soccer team knew he—and the rest of his group—were nothing but a bunch of players. Were you just slow to the news? Or did the fact that Yeonjun was a little more suave than the others, pique your interest? It didn’t matter. Either way, you were bound to wind up with a broken heart. And the thought of that happening made Jake’s chest rumble. He never wanted that to happen to his best friend. 

Even so, why did he have to lose his cool? 

His mind wandered back to Jay’s kitchen, where him and the man of the house stood before the sink. 

Jay gulped down the last bit of his glass, worry laced in his face. Jake tapped his fingers on the glass, teeth nipping at his lips. 

“How are we gonna convince her that Yeonjun isn’t the right guy?” Jake only hummed, irritation popping on his skin at the mention of his senior’s name. It was weird. He never had a problem with the guy before. So why was tonight any different?

Was it because of you?

“You think you could come up with something?” Jay’s voice chirped in Jake’s ears. He huffed as Jake touched his glass to his lips. “I don’t think she’s going to listen to me, but she might listen to you.”

“I’ll try.” He kept his words to a minimum, nodding before the two of them joined the main group back in the living room.

And what was this all powerful, altruistic plan? Asking you to help him with a subject he needed no assistance in, all while giving you the false promise of dating the guy you needed to avoid. 

Talk about progress. 

It wasn’t all bad news, though. At least with all time the two of you spend together, Jake could try and convince you that Yeonjun wasn’t a guy you wanted to mess with. Jake stopped tossing the soccer ball in the air, plopping it on the carpet floor before shooting out of the bed. He trudged to his bathroom towel, picking it up and throwing it over his shoulder, all while scratching his head. 

Why did Yeonjun’s name leave such an ugly taste in his mouth?

Especially when it had to do with you?

Jake heaved a sigh. He could do this. He could survive his mission for the next few weeks. 

Right?

…

“Why can’t we just study at your place?” The golden retriever groaned as you took his hand and yanked him into the vast space of the college library. You hastily dragged him towards one of the room's large tables, plopping your school bag on the seat beside you. “‘Cause it’s harder to focus when you study at your own place. Too many distractions. Now sit.”

Jake picked up your bag, discarding it on the floor before claiming its former spot—right beside you. Your eyes roll in disappointment, bending down to get your notebooks. You purse your lips. “And besides… we might run into him.”

“Bruh,” Jake became dumbfounded by your actual reason for staying at the campus after class. It wasn’t to strengthen his actual academic potential, no. It was so you could see stupid Choi Yeonjun. He cocked a judging eyebrow at you. “Yeah, you’re sounding real focused right now.”

A punch was sent to the poor man’s shoulder. “Shut up!”

“What!? You’re the one being totally shameless right now!” Jake snorts. 

Your face crinkles in irritation. You hated how he was right. “Let’s just get this over with, god.”

After a bit more bickering, the two of you fall swiftly into your study session. The two of you took and rewrote notes together, you threw questions his way, and he always bounced back with the answers. This study session was growing quite successful.

Hours flew by, and you finally granted your eyes a well deserved break as you leaned back on the chair. Like magic, a handful of chip bags plopped onto the surface before you. All of them, your favorite flavours, too. You were in heaven. Your eyes glistened in excitement, hands flying to the pile like opposite ends of a magnet. Jake huffs proudly, sinking into his seat with a puffed up chest. “You’re welcome, by the way. I got those just for you.”

You hum. So that was why he was gone on his bathroom break for so long. Your fingers rip open the flimsy plastic, shoving a few down the bag and fishing for your first catch of the day. Mouth full of puffed up oil, potatoes and flavouring, you turn your head to him. “How’d you know what flavours I like?”

A big grin pulls at his cheeks. He sends a finger to your forehead, placing a small flick on the center. 

“I’ve known you for all my life, y/n. I think I would know your favourite chip flavours, dummy.”

Your eyes lingered on his dumb, big smile a little more than you’d like to admit. 

You blink, shoving more chips into your mouth. For a split second, you could feel your heart flutter at Jake’s words and soothing voice. Your wandering eyes couldn’t help but gawk at him. His sharpened jaw line, his sculpted features- he had definitely changed since your days at highschool. Your eyes reach up to his: have they always been so bright? A gulp shoots down your throat. You almost forgot about the fact that he had just flicked your forehead. You bite the inside of your cheek, throwing yourself back to reality. What’s wrong with you?

“Well, thanks.” You clear your throat, straightening your spine as you turn away from the puppy you dubbed your best friend. You were probably just going mental, right? Like ‘someone please throw her into a hospital, ASAP’ type of insane. Get those thoughts out of your head!

You throw your frame before your books, burying your nose between the pages of your notes. Anything to distract yourself. To pull yourself out of Jake’s mesmerizing stare. 

“Okay then–”

“Wait, you got a little something–”

Suddenly, the pads of Jake’s thumb grazed ever so gently against your chin. His touch reaches up to the corner of your lips, catching you off guard; throwing your sanity off the edge. Your eyes widen, your breath stuck in your throat. Shivers shoot down your spine, your eyes watching as Jake inches closer to your face. Your skin grows hot, the area of your cheeks specifically bursting into flames. In two swift movements, Jake’s thumb sweeps across your lips. After what felt like an eternity, however, his touch pulled away from your skin. His thumb carried with it a few crumbs which had been stuck on the corner of your mouth. You gulp. Since when was his touch so warm?

“There we go,” Jake huffed, stifling a chuckle. “You’ve got crumbs all over your mouth.” 

Your heartbeat was drumming in your ears, ringing in your head. You bit your lip, the skin there turning white. You muttered a poor excuse for a response before turning back to your notes. Your saving grace. 

Just then, a confusing series of shuffling and noise perks in your ears, catching your and Jake’s attention. Two towering figures emerge from thin air: two boys. One was loud and, frankly, annoying. The other had the innate ability to make your heart stop. After looking at each other, you and Jake glance up. Standing before you were two of the five hotshots of the campus: Choi Beomgyu and Choi Yeonjun. 

You choked on a potato chip. 

…

“Jakeyyyyy!!” The shorter, relatively at least, of the two yells out. These two were both giants—one, Beomgyu, yelled in a voice most definitely inappropriate for a library. It earned more than a few irked glares. Beomgyu skipped towards the boy, ruffling his hair in a swift, but tormenting noogie, all while holding down Jake’s squirming figure with a tense arm. “Whatcha’ doing over here!?”

As the two fall into a rabbit hole of squabbling, Yeonjun inches closer to you, and all hell breaks loose in your mind. You froze, anxiety shooting down your spine like the end of a roller coaster. A mountain of butterflies erupt from the pit of your stomach as Yeonjun dips his head down, shining a smile at you. 

Beomgyu’s booming voice shoots at your ears once again. “And who might this be?”

“I’m–”

“Her name’s y/n,” Yeonjun interrupted, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I get that right?”

Your head was spinning. “Uh… yeah!”

“Glad we could finally meet! Jakey’s only told me nice things about you!” 

Beomgyu extends a hand to you, and you take it timidly. As chic as a model on a runway, Yeonjun combed a hand through his hair, and you felt your cheeks flush in heat. At least Jake held up his part of the bargain. 

After greeting you with a simple smile and nod, Beomgyu tilts his head, visibly confused. “You two studying together?”

“I’m actually tutoring him,” You barely managed to stutter out. You jolt, realizing you had been staring off into space—or Yeonjun—for a little longer than you would’ve liked to admit. “We’re preparing for an exam next week.”

“Woah, so you’re like, smart smart!” Beomgyu gawked. “Jakey’s like the smartest on the soccer team!”

A figure suddenly ghosted behind your back, shooting chills down your spine. You froze like a deer in headlights. Under his breath, Yeonjun was reading your notes out loud before blinding you with another eye smile. “Looks like you really know your stuff! Maybe you can tutor me sometime?”

His tone made your stomach flutter. Did Yeonjun have this effect on everyone?

“Hey guys? Sorry to interrupt, but y/n and I are kinda busy right now.” After a century of silence, Jake’s voice peaked in your ears. You look back to see that he’s been much more than quiet since his to senior’s came to visit. A glint of bitterness switched in his eyes, and his jaw looked tense. His grip looked rather firm, too. The force milking the colour away from his knuckles. You could practically feel the steam puffing from his ears. “Could you maybe bug us later?”

Beomgyu looked stunned, throwing up his hands in defense. “Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry to bother you, little man. We’ll, uh, see you later.” His words faltered towards the end as he and Yeonjun inched away from the table. 

“See you around, y/n!” Yeonjun waved before turning back to follow his teammate.

You flip back to face your desk partner, a million questions running through your mind. However, those questions would be left unsolved due to that desk partner shooting out of his seat, with minimal eye contact towards you. 

“I, uh, bathroom.”

You couldn’t utter a word before he disappeared from your sight.

What was going on with Jake Sim?

…

The rush of the water clouded Jake’s ears as he gazed upon his reflection on the mirror. He did everything he could; slap himself back to reality, splash his face with water so cold it almost burned. Nevertheless, it was no use. He couldn’t get rid of that ugly feeling crawling beneath his skin. 

He knew what his job was. He knew he had to protect you from Yeonjun, from his dangerous reputation. He knew he had to keep you safe as your best friend. 

But why did it feel so wrong seeing you so close to him? 

A groan escapes Jake’s lips. He leans forwards, sending all of his weight onto the bathroom counter. The breath of his anguish was so dense, it clouded the washroom mirror. Another image of you clouding your mind in the same way. 

Jake Sim was going crazy. 

…

If your brain wasn’t already fried, it certainly was now. It had to be, with the 20 different directions it split itself into that morning. It juggled multiple things at once; how you were going to have breakfast—since your fridge was as barren as a dessert; to what outfit you were going to wear today. However, your brain was overwhelmingly focused on the events of yesterday. The very confusing events of the college library. 

Jake Sim sent your heart on a rollercoaster. His actions ripped your heart out of your chest, shaking it like theres no tomorrow. You thought about the little stunt he pulled; wiping your face with his thumb. You thought about how much it tourmented your being, how much it stained your mind. You thought back to Jake’s smile.

His dumb, big smile. 

Thinking about him almost made you forget about Yeonjun entirely. You slapped yourself in the face. What the hell was going on with your mind? 

Currently, you stood before an ocean of clothes; the unfortunate result of your efforts to find an outfit for the day. You couldn’t pintpoint why you were so stressed, but you had a feeling Jake Sim had something to do with it. You were going over to his place to study after all.

With her hair tousled and still dawning her pyjamas, your roommate Nabi attempts, and fails to stifle a yawn. “So you need an outfit just for Jake’s place?” 

You wiggled your head out of a shirt neckline. “Yeah, and none of these outfits are working!”

After just two seconds of glancing at the mirror, you rip off the shirt in anguish. It wasn’t anywhere near what you were looking for. You slip on another outfit—a pair of shorts with a simple t-shirt. It didn’t fit right. You ripped it off, too. Again and again, you slipped on and ripped off clothes. Your hands worked like clockwork, the pile of clothes behind you growing up to your hip. You almost lost all hope until your hands grazed over some eye catching floral print. You threw the maxi skirt on in seconds, matching it with a cute top before spinning around to face your resident outfit inspector. Nabi’s expression lightened, a smile clinging on her previously tired face. 

“Woah! Someone’s looking cute!”

A sigh of relief huffs from your chest, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Thank god you found an outfit that made you look halfway decent. You shuffled over to your desk, picking up various accessories to decorate your outfit with. You watched Nabi through the mirror, tilting her head to the side. 

“Why are you getting all dressed up, though? It’s just Jake.”

Your heart dropped. Right. You were so wrapped up in your stress you barely even realized why you were getting dressed. All you were doing was going over to Jake’s house. It was something you’ve done a million times before. And every other time, you weren’t so roped up in an ocean of stress. 

What made this time so much different? 

Nabi stifles a grin, pulling you by the shoulders and sending you out the door with your things. “You wouldn’t wanna be late now, right? Have fun!”

…

“I still don’t get it,” Sunghoon’s eyebrows squished together in confusion. He hastily threw on a shirt, covering his once bare back after drying off from his after-practice shower. Jake was already miles ahead; fully clothed and drying off his dripping wet hair with a small towel. Sunghoon’s voice shot through the practically empty “You don’t even need y/n’s help with math, so why bother?”

Swinging open his locker, Jake pursed his lips. Ever since Sunghoon and Jay decided that the topic for today’s locker room conversation was Jake’s study sessions with you, Jake didn’t have a clue on what to say. After all, not much thought went into this stupid idea. Rustles from the shower rooms echoed through the hall, revealing a freshly washed Jay Park; hair drenched and a towel hanging from his hips. After chucking his belongings into his gym bag and zipping it up without a care in the world, Jake turned to the other two. 

“I’m not actually getting tutored,” Jake’s eyes wandered the shower room walls. “Think of it as like—a cover up, yeah.”

Jay and Sunghoon look at each other, and then back at Jake. 

“I’m asking her to tutor me so she can spend less time thinking about Yeonjun, make her forget about him” Jake eyes glossed over his friend’s before meeting the ground in defeat. “It, uh, made more sense in my head.”

“I guess I could see it working?” Hesitation lined Jay’s voice as he finally threw his shirt on. He wiggled through the cut out. “Why not just tell her, though? I figured she’d listen to you more than me, that’s why I passed it onto you.”

Jake cleared his throat. Tell you about Yeonjun. Why didn’t he just do that? Why was he so set on seeing you all the time?

A ping! jumps from Jake’s phone. Your name spreads across the top of the device’s screen, and a bolt of energy serges through Jake’s veins. 

    y/n, the big fat nerd /j [4:47pm]: i’m here at the parking lot!

With this newfound energy, Jake gathers up his things and slams his locker shut; all at the speed of light. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it—hell, he couldn’t pinpoint anything these days—but he grew quite energetic at the thought of you. Like a child moments before a rollercoaster ride, he almost felt ecstatic. He told himself it was just for the plan. 

As he reached his own locker, Sunghoon kept his eyes on the golden retriever so full of energy. A smirk lined his lips. “Someone looks excited to see her.”

“Piss off!” Jake defended before dashing out of the locker room. 

Maybe Sunghoon was right. 

…

Jake Sim’s heart was racing.

Odd, considering he gauged himself to be fairly fit in the physical department, being a college athlete and all. A quick jog from the campus doors to the campus parking lot shouldn’t have been that physically draining for him. And yet, here he was, with his heart beating out of his chest as he stood in front of you. 

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you rambled on and on about being late. Jake didn’t seem to notice what it was you exactly said, not with his head practically spinning at the sight of you. You in your floral maxi skirt and mini cardigan. Hair pinned up and dawning those glasses Jake always nagged you to wear more often. The golden retriever also took much notice of the makeup you wore today; the cherry red lip gloss staining an image in his mind for longer than he anticipated. 

You looked stunning.

“—Are you even listening?” Your words finally managed to peak in his ear drums. Jake cleared his throat, panic rising in him. Adjusting his backpack straps, he caught a glimpse of your frustrated pout, his chest pounding with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. What was going on with him?

“If we just agreed to meet before my practice, I wouldn’t be late!” Jake retorted playfully. A feeling his heart wasn’t quite reciprocating. 

You inched forward, the gap between your two figures closing. You crossed your arms, face squishing in as you shot him an accusatory glare. Jake however, wasn’t scared of the faces you were making, but rather the effect you had on him. The very strong effect, nonetheless.

“Don’t give me that, I know you just wanna get out of practice!” Your eyes dipped to the ground, your tone shifting to more of a timid hue. “And besides, getting ready took longer than I thought. I’m not used to getting all dressed up.”

Curiosity switched in the golden boy’s brain. “You tried dressing up for me?”

Your face displayed about four different facial expressions before balling up a fist to send straight to Jake’s shoulder. “As if! I dressed up for myself, thank you very much!”

Jake stood frozen, nipping at his lips. He still couldn’t stop staring at you, now could he? 

“What? What’s so wrong with trying something new?”

Only then did Jake Sim notice that his heart was still racing the same way it did when he first ran to the parking lot. 

“Nothing.” He uttered casually before walking over to his driver’s side of the car.

You look amazing, he thought to himself, maybe not so casually. 

…

“You want me to go to the soccer game?” A pencil spun effortlessly between your fingers as you looked behind your shoulder. It was the only way to face the golden retriever, who was currently laying down on his bed, completely giving up on your study session for the day. You huff a sigh. You might as well give up, too. Your eyes needed the break, anyway. You shot from Jake’s desk seat, gesturing for Jake to make room for you on his bed. “Scoot over.”

“Yeah, I figured since you don’t have as many exams this year, you’d have time to actually come for once.” Jake tilted his head as you sat beside him. 

Your chest cringed with guilt. Jake was right. As much as you wanted to attend his home games, they always managed to line right up with your schedule for exams; everyone knew better than to bother you during exam week, so Jake never tried asking you to watch. However, this year seemed to be a lucky one; your final exam for the term just a day before the game. Which meant one thing; you were finally free to go. You whipped out your phone, swiping over to the calendar app. 

“I’ll check if I’m—”

“Oh no you don’t.”

As fast as a strike of lightning, your phone leaps out of your hands. Currently, it swung over your head. Just above your measly, small reach. The culprit? None other than Jake Sim, acting childish as ever. You watch him smirk above you, his reach growing further and further from yours. “You don’t get a choice this time, dummy. You’re going to that game!” 

“Hey! Give that back, asshole!”

His arm reached further and you climbed up to your knees. Like a fish out of water, you leaped up to snatch your phone out of his hands, but it was no use. Your precious device was still out of your reach. You prop a hand on his shoulder, your face mere centimeters before his. Jake flashes another grin, making your blood boil. 

“Not a chance, sweets. You’re only getting this back once you say you can go.”

You gulp at the new nickname. Where'd he learn how to talk like that? Heat began to creep up onto your cheeks. You clear your throat. “You’re serious?”

“When am I not?”

“Jake Sim, I am going to kill you.”

You groan, latching onto his shoulder once again. You weren’t the type to give in without a fight. You were going to get your phone back. Your eyes grew dark as you shot up to the stars, finally closing in on his stubborn hand—the kidnapper to your poor, innocent phone. You jumped again, the sheets below your two figures shifting. However, you couldn’t care less about the world around you at that moment; the only thing that mattered was getting your phone back. 

“Wait—y/n!”

Thud. That was the noise Jake’s head made as it plummeted through the feathers of his pillow. It was also the noise that electrified through your jaw as you pounded onto the rather tense surface of his chest. You felt a pair of hands snake and latch onto the sides of your waist, their grip laced with all the worry in the world. With all your might, you propped yourself up, maybe about a pinky worth space hanging between yours and Jake Sim’s.

Your panicked eyes finally lock onto his, and the two of you lay frozen on his bed. You were terrified to make a wrong move. Yet, there was this voice inside of you, telling you to do anything but move, to just stay right where you are. Instinctively, your eyes trail down, examining the rest of his face—seeing him this close definitely wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and a part of you felt the need to take advantage of that. Only now—with only a couple of centimeters dancing between you—did you notice Jake’s honey skin; unblunted jaw. Eyelashes that could fan a forrestfire to sleep. Not once did you ever look at Jake like this. So why on earth couldn’t you stop?

This needed to stop. You like Yeonjun, you reminded yourself.

Your eyes trail down further. The way he licked his lips, the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Why couldn’t you look away?

You like Yeonjun. Not Jake. 

“You okay?” Jake finally spoke, shaking you to your core. His playful demeanour was thrown out the window; a suitable reaction to almost falling to your death via his stupid prank. While you were okay in a physical sense, your heart couldn’t stop racing. Ever since you face planted on his stupidly buff chest, the pounds of your heartbeat had grown rampant, unbearable. Your stomach was fluttering, turning in on itself. Nothing made sense anymore. You had to run. 

You pushed yourself from Jake’s chest, bolting from his bed. Lightspeed, you bundled all of your things in your hands and zoomed through the door, making sure to hide your flushed face from the golden retriever in the room. The only golden retriever who could turn your world upside down, apparently. 

You didn’t like Jake. 

Right?

…

“You’re paying me back. Big time.” You grumbled as Nabi hopped out of the passenger’s seat. A big grin lining her face, she dashed to your side of the car before enveloping you in a big hug. “I know, I know, thank you, really!”

What was this big favour Nabi had asked you for? And what was the sole reason for your sour mood? Being forced to attend the college soccer game, of course!

You see, after that absurd moment back at Jake’s house, you visibly panic at the thought of him. Jake Sim has staked his claim on your mind, and your life as you knew it was starting to distort slowly into madness. You only knew one solution to this problem; run away. You couldn’t develop feelings for your best friend, are you mad? It all needed to end. Now. So after your final exam of the season, you decided to stay home with warm coffee and a book, instead of attending the soccer game. After all, it was best to avoid Jake Sim at all costs. 

You wouldn’t know how much your heart could handle, otherwise. 

But alas, your best friend, Nabi, had different plans. Due to a slip up in her and Sunghoon’s schedules, Nabi was left without a ride. Not to mention, she miraculously forgot to return one of the two tickets to the soccer game. Safe to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled when you opened your bedroom door, only to find Nabi dawning a nervous smile, two tickets in her hand. 

You and Nabi make your way to the bleachers while you physically strain yourself to not look in the golden retriever’s direction. Through your peripheral vision you were already able to spot his team, running small laps around their half of the field. Warming up for the big event. Sitting down, you close your eyes. No. You were not going to try and find Jake. You will not cave in. 

Slowly, your eyes open up to the world once again. There he was, dawning a sweatband and jogging with all of his might. Mr. #5. You hated how easily you remembered his number.

Replays of the past few days reel back through your mind. Why couldn’t you forget them already? What was Jake doing to you?

“y/n?” A voice peaked in your ears. A familiar one. You glance up to see Choi Yeonjun in his sports uniform, a towel hanging from his neck. “What are you doing here?”

Sure, you were shocked to see him, but something had changed. Changed since the last time you ran into him—back at the library. There was a lack of a spark popping on your skin, a lack of flutters emitting from your stomach. Everything in your body stood flat, dormant. Yeonjun shined a smile at you, and you mirrored him. “Oh, just watching.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” A twinge of stiffness lined his voice, a hint of awkwardness. Yeonjun shoots a wink. “Make sure to cheer for me from the stands, yeah?”

Still dormant. No stomachs fluttering or faces flushing. You fake a giggle, eyes wandering. “We’ll see!”

You didn’t even notice when Yeonjun left. 

Boy, did your eyes ever wander. They wandered right into the figure of Jake Sim. Your eyes watched as Jake continued to practice, effortlessly sending the ball into the air with a swift kick, his knackered appearance catching you off guard. Your body shot from its dormant state, firing up at the sight of your best friend. Your stomach fluttering; your heart racing. All of the reactions you should’ve been having with Yeonjun, were all happening in the presence of Jake Sim. 

You had a crush on Jake Sim. Your best friend. 

…

The golden boy should’ve been happy when he saw you walk through the bleachers, claiming a seat amidst the audience waiting to watch the soccer game. Jake was sure you were going to ditch his invitation entirely, especially after the incident in his bedroom. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if you’d speak to him ever again, not with the way you stormed out of the house. He let himself get carried away with you, it only seemed fair. Jake stole one last glance at you before resuming his warm up. The athlete ran up to the ball, sending the inflated prop flying with a swift kick before running back to the end of the line. 

Jake Sim should’ve been happy to see you. So why was he so ticked off?

Choi Yeonjun. That’s why. 

The beloved captain was slacking off and ditching team warm ups. All in an effort to talk to you. Jake couldn’t help but stare at the two of you, your figure now conveniently hidden behind Yeonjun’s ginormous one. The boy felt his skin light in flames, the blood just beneath boiling hot. His knuckles popped white as he tightened his fists. His jaw tightened, a vein appearing on his neck. He watched as you and Yeonjun laughed along to some stupid joke Yeonjun must’ve said. 

Why the hell were you up there, and not with him. 

Jake slaps both of his cheeks with his hands; a call back to reality. Who was he kidding? You probably wanted nothing to do with him anymore. The events of that afternoon said it all. Jake stood no chance with you. 

After what felt like an eternity, the beloved captain finally made his way down to the field. The team coach only grumbles at the sight of this slacking captain, rolling his eyes at the behavior he's seen countless times before. In an (very poor) effort to lighten the somber mood, Yeonjun only boasts a laugh, throwing an (unwanted) arm around Jake’s shoulders. “Why the sour mood?”

“Where the hell have you been? We’ve been waiting for almost an hour!” Jake grits. 

“Okay, chill out, man! I was just talking to some friends.” Yeonjun waved his hand in defense. Crossing his arms, Jake’s jaw tightened more as Yeonjun (regretfully) continued to talk. “Jesus, what’s gotten you so worked up, little man?”

Jake gritted his teeth. He never liked that nickname. Instinctively, Jake’s eyes trail up to you, sitting beside Nabi on the bleachers, paying no mind to him. Yeonjun’s curious eyes follow, an epiphany dropping onto him. “Oh I get it, you’re pissed that I made a move on y/n before you.”

Steam puffed from Jake’s ears. “Buzz off, Yeonjun.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I just… asked y/n out after the game, right?”

The bomb finally ticked off. Within seconds, Jake grasped the soccer player by the collar, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. Jake stared Yeonjun down, a fire glinting in his eyes. A fire he’s never felt before, until it was about you. Jake practically hissed as he spoke to his senior. “Don’t even think about asking her out, asshole.”

“Oh yeah? And why should I?”

Jake couldn’t even process the whistle blowing; the indication to start the game. 

“‘Cause I’m in love with her.”

…

I need to find him. 

That’s what replayed in your brain as you ran down the campus hallway. Thankfully, the building was mainly empty—time had passed from the end of the game and most people had left by now, but you never saw Jake Sim leave as you waited from the stands. A quick glance through the school parking lot confirmed your suspicions too; Jake’s car was the only one still parked in its usual spot. And while you weren’t any different from most people, you were unique in the sense that you witnessed your ex-crush and current crush almost fight to the death before the game. You didn't want to jump to any conclusions, but one thing was for sure; you needed to know if Jake Sim was okay. 

You run up to the boy’s locker room, finally stopping to catch your breath. Almost immediately, you hear the rush of water; the only thing uttering a sound within a 10 meter radius. You hesitate, but remember that, with Jake’s car being the only one in the barren parking lot, you were at high odds of finding him. Still, fear lines each of your steps as you tippy-toe into the tiled floor. 

Fully emerging yourself into the room, your ears que into the rush of water finally stopping. After a series of rustles, with a few pauses here and there, you hear the metal clanks of a curtain being pushed. You freeze, fear churning in your core. This was anything but a good idea. Quickly, you turn around, opting to text him instead. 

“y/n?”

Fuck. 

You turn around, gulping at the sight of a certain shirtless figure. A towel draped over his head and a pair of joggers hugged his waist. He lifted a hand and tossed the towel around, drying his hair as he trudged to his locker. You couldn’t help but stare like a deer in headlights. Jake Sim sure knew how to make an entrance.

“Are you even allowed to be here?”

“Uh… no one caught me?”

Silence befell the two of you as Jake threw a shirt on, calming your heart down just a little bit. You clear your throat. “I, uh, saw what happened down there. Before the game.”

Jake shined a somber grin. “Yeah, figured everyone did.”

“Are you okay?”

Jake refused to look you in the eyes. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.” The athlete gathered his belongings, throwing his bag over his shoulders. “And good luck with Yeonjun. I tried my best.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jake pursed his lips. He paused before huffing a sigh, his silence holding your attention firm in its grasp. “I, uh—for the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to make you avoid him. Distract you from him so you’d lose feelings. But apparently he likes you back, so I’ll just back off. Sorry for lying to you all this time.”

You gape at the golden retriever. It all made sense now. Tutoring for math class was just a cover up. As you reach your epiphany, you notice Jake was already halfway out of the locker room, and your body dashes towards him. It was as if Jake was your puppet master, and you were a puppet pulled by his string. “Wait! Jake!” 

Jake turned his head back to you, sadness pulling his frame further and further into the ground. 

“I don’t like Yeonjun anymore!” You blurt out, a rush squabbling your mind. You weren’t tired from your run anymore, but you noticed how fast your heart was beating. How shallow your breaths became. How hot your skin felt, despite the cloudy weather. Only Jake Sim made you feel this way. “I-I actually like someone else, now.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Well…” You inch forward, the gap between the two of you shrinking. You fiddle with your fingers, heat rising to your cheeks. Your stomach began to flutter the closer you got to him. “He’s very good at soccer, pretends he’s bad at math, and has the dumbest smile, ever.”

Jake’s jaw was practically grazing the ground. His limbs; frozen beyond repair. It was as if you were speaking French to him, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You dipped your head, eyes meeting the floor. “I like you, Jake.”

The cruel hit of reality crushed your shoulders; you sounded insane. Your eyes spilled from their sockets, your airways collapsing before you could take a breath. Why on earth did you say that!? Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, your head spinning. Fear shot down your spine as your temple sweated bullets. Instinctively, you throw up your hands and wave around like a maniac. Fanning away your lunacy as if it were smoke from a charred grill. You wince, not even bearing to watch Jake’s most definite disgusted reaction. 

“Fuck—wait—did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean it in that way—or I did but—okay, uh, just pretend I didn’t say anything—”

“Shut up, dummy.”

3 words. Only 3 words were said before Jake kissed you. 

It was swift; the act of slinging your figure closer to him, an arm cupping your waist tightly. Jake used his other hand to cup your face, his eyebrows furrowing in a sense of impatience. He leaned into your figure, practically dipping you like two dancers in the night. Your stomach was flipping in on itself, turning inside out each second of that breathtaking kiss. With your body practically stunned to its core, all you could do was grab onto the collar of his shirt. And did you ever grip; your knuckles growing white from the pressure. Your heart was beating rampantly, you could practically see stars spinning above you. Were you dreaming?

“I-I like you, too.” Jake barely reached a whisper as the two of you finally pulled away. It was funny, it was as if he didn’t just kiss your brain into pieces. His head dipped down, turning red and timid. “I think I liked you for a while now, I just too dumb to admit it.”

You send him a swift peck on the cheek, your grin never leaving your face. “I guess we’re just a couple of dummies, huh.”

Jake kisses you back, his grin now growing bigger and bigger. It was good to have your golden retriever back. “I guess so.”

…

“y/n I swear to god,” Jake mutters through his teeth as he stands before you, and the glaring elephant in the room; you were wearing his soccer jersey, and he had a game in T-minus 4 hours. The very stressed athlete rubbed his temples as he watched you, doing everything in your power to not give it back. Jake was swimming in a sea of frustration, and it certainly didn’t help that you looked absolutely adorable in the oversized article of clothing. “Please, just give it back?”

Like a stubborn child, you ran behind the couch, keeping your distance from your stressed boyfriend. You hugged your chest, sticking your tongue out at him before running off again. “You’re gonna have to come and get it yourself, big boy!”

“You’re really gonna test me?” Jake laid a hand on his hip, watching you run off into the kitchen. 

“Come and catch me!!” You taunted him, not ready for what your boyfriend had in store. 

Jake chased you further into the kitchen, cornering you between the two sides of the kitchen counter. You froze in fear, the only thing you were capable of doing was hug your chest further; hiding the jersey from Jake’s grasp. But it was no use. Jake pried open your shield in a matter of seconds, enveloping you in a tight—maybe too tight—hug. Jake snuggled into you, his face delving deep into the crevice of your neck. You were helpless, defeated. Jake sighe, the warmth of his breath clouding on the skin of your neck.

“What am I gonna do with you, sweets?”

…

#enhypen #enhypen jake #sim jaeyun #enhypen sim jaeyun #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #fanfiction #my writing #writers #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim x y/n #jake sim x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen members #sports au #fluff

[mythicalmyles]

hi there !! i love your fics! i was wondering if i could request BEN w femboy streamer? humiliation + abduction maybe? also i’d die to give that ghost head 💔

Thank you so much! I hope ur having a great day and ur wish is my command hope u enjoy:>

(Name) let out a loud sigh as he closed off his stream, rubbing his eyes. He blinked and looked at the time, four am. He shook his head and let out a small laugh, he had to stop streaming so late. Lately he had been getting a weird chatter in his streams, he tried to ignore the overly sexual things they said but he couldn’t deny the pang of want he felt for it.

(Name) was too tired to even take off his hoodie and thigh highs as he made his way to his bed, flopping face first onto the sheets. He was so tired he didn’t even notice his TV turning on.

————

(Name) woke up surprised as his arms were forced above his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his wrists trying to figure out why wires were around him. A loud static filled the room as his head snapped to the TV, a figure came out of his TV along with two more wires.

(Name) had no chance of fighting back against them, the figure that had came out was all the more horrifying. He looked like a nightmare form of link, (Name) tried to not shake as it made its way to him.

“Helloo.” It sang in a glitchy voice, (Name) whimpered and pushed himself further into his bed. He closed his eyes tight and mentally began praying. Ben’s hands were quick to pull up his jumper, vicious grin on his cheeks.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, bet you’d love that you whore. Ive seen the way you react to my messages.” (Names) eyes doubled, pulse speeding up. “You..” He trailed off and Ben let out a loud laugh. “Me!” He cheered, eyes lighting up at the recognition.

Bens fingers were quick to start teasing and playing with (Names) nipples, relishing in his squirms and moans. “So sensitive.” He showed off his sharp teeth, tongue darting out to lick up his lips.

(Name) couldn’t do much with the wires holding him down. “Gonna breed you up like a bitch, look at you, barley a man.” He chuckled, (Name) would violently deny that his cock was currently hard and leaking precum in his boxers.

“Shu-shut up.” He weakly muttered, eyes hazy and blown. Ben just chuckled, mouth coming to suck on one of his nipples. He circled his tongue around the bud until it was hard and quickly gave the same treatment to the other as (Name) squirmed and whined.

Ben moved to suck some bruises down (Names) stomach, stopping at his v-line to suck bruises into the flesh. (Name) bucked his hips letting out a moan as he threw his head back against his pillow. Stars danced in his vision as Ben flipped him over, arms crossed and legs spread as his face was buried into the mattress.

“I bet you’ll love this.” (Name) froze as a tongue lapped at his hole, Ben running his tongue all over his flesh. (Names) moans got more high pitched as Ben slurped on his hole, pushing his tongue in deep.

(Name) was completely at Ben’s mercy as he tongue fucked him. (Names) voice choked and he arched back into Ben’s tongue, tears of pleasure dripping down his cheeks. He let out a wail when Ben pulled away. “I barley even had to do any thing and look at how much of a slut you’ve turned into.” Ben was smug as he spoke, pushing two fingers into (Names) wet hole.

As much as it burned it felt so good, Ben’s fingers hitting deeper then his own could ever hope to. “Ben’s the name.” (Name) let out a moan as he repeated Ben’s name.

“Fuck.” Ben muttered quickly pulling his fingers out, pressing his cock against (Names) hole. “Gonna fuck this pretty boy pussy and leave it dripping.” He quickly slid deep into (Name), the latter gasping and letting out a broken cry.

It didn’t take long before (Name) was a sobbing mess, head buried into his pillow teeth clenched on the fabric as Ben raw dogged him. Ben’s hand gripped his cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts, (Names) head threw back as Ben leaned down. He pressed their body’s tightly together before moving back up, (Name) trapped by his arm being dragged with him.

Ben didn’t think (Name) could get any louder, he growled when (Name) began fucking back onto his thrusts. His mind ran rampant as he fucked (Names) brains out, relishing in every cry that left the boy.

“Gonna keep you locked up forever. Be my pretty little toy that rides my cock like a good boy.” (Name) whined, the idea kicking him over the edge. He came hard before flopping back onto Ben, Ben’s arms being the only thing keeping him upright.

(Names) body jolted with every thrust, mind floating away on cloud nine. Ben’s thrusts got sloppier and he could feel his end coming near. “Gonna fill you up so much. So much.” Ben gripped his hips and slammed him down for the final time, cum spilling deep as he rode out his high.

He flopped down pinning (Name) to the bed, wires slowly leaving. “So fucking pretty.” Ben muttered stroking the unconscious mans hair.

#ben drowned x male!reader #ben drowned x male reader #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned x malereader #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x male reader #creepy pasta x reader #creepypasta x male!reader #creepy pasta x male!reader #marble hornets x male reader #myfic

[story-telling]

~~~~Maze to the death~~~~

TW: blood loss, self harm implied, razors, gore, domestic abuse/violence

This is my POV AU of a saw trap that is Alice in wonderland themed

(Currently hyperfixating on saw if you couldn’t tell 🩷)

Your eyes flutter open as you smell stale iron mixed with the filthy dust on the floor, you raise your head weakly and let out a dry hefty cough as if you hadn’t drank water in years. You manage to scramble to your feet, the entire room pitch black. Your leg seems to be in a chain as the rattling of it enthrals panic to course through your body.

“HELLO?” You cry out in frustration and confusion, your voice echoing throughout the empty room.

You pull your leg as a hard as you can but something clicks. The lights turn on and you are faced with a maze, the maze was as tall as the roof, 12 feet you judged. Suddenly there’s static, an old tv flickers on as your met with static and a loud screaming sound. You cover your ears and hunch over in pain, as you look up to the tv again it’s silent, your hands drop from your ears and you stare at the television waiting.

The tv flickers once more and a puppet appears on screen, white skinny face with red swirls on the cheeks, black hair and wearing a suit. He turns to you and just laughs. Laughs. Laughs.

*“Hello y/n. You’re probably wondering where you are, so pay close attention, it may cost you your life. around you is a maze, you must find the exit in the time allotted, simple. As the timer progresses the spikes lining the walls will close in, slowly impaling you until you are unable to move or succumb to your wounds. Which ever comes first. So I suggest you move quickly. You’ve delt your share of pain in your failed relationships, mental and physical, now it is your choice, face the pain you’ve caused the ones you love, or be lost to the maze forever”

The raspy voice spoke and all the images comes flashing back, your ex partner, their bruises, their cuts, their tears. All of it. Caused by you, you begin to feel weak, helpless, sacrificed like a lamb. You pull yourself together and look up as you heard a beeping, there was a timer for 1 minute above your head and your ankle is released from the chain. You realise quickly that you have to move.

You start running towards the maze and are feeling a little more hopeful. You feel you may win, you feel there may be victory. Until.

“AAAAHHH. Shit.” You run into a dead end. Razors blades and spikes cut through your skin like paper. Your blue top being dyed a dark crimson red, you move back slowly and nearly trip over your own feet. Looking back up at the timer. You’re at 45 seconds.

Steadying back on your feet you start moving swiftly and watching out for dead ends, you decide to check the timer again and see that you have 30 seconds. Whilst doing so your abdomen gets impaled by three spikes attached to roses as you scream out in agony. Your bleeding increases as you start to feel weak and breathless. Looking back up. You have 20 seconds.

Continuing on, you see a walkway through the edge of the hedge, your eyes light up as you move quicker and quicker, once more. You are met with another dead end, your ankles and wrists cuttings, displaying your veins, swallowing your scream through gritted teeth you look back at the clock.

Ten seconds.

You see the walkway as you walk quickly towards.

Nine seconds.

The spikes start closing in

Eight seconds.

You’re forced to walk sideways towards the walkway

Seven seconds.

You’re so close.

Six seconds.

The spikes making contact with your shirt

Five seconds.

As you are close to the walkway. Your leg gets caught between the spikes

Four seconds.

You fall and your face makes contact with the concrete floor, skidding your skin against rock.

Three seconds.

The spikes still enclosing in around your ankle you scramble to get both your legs out.

Two seconds.

You only manage. One.

One second.

Your foot is trapped. You lay there in a panicked state.

“I DID IT. I DID IT YOU BASTARD” you scream out in anger.

“LET ME GO” you wiggle your ankle. The spikes penetrating your wound, you feel your foot twitch and cry out in pain. You decide to pull as hard as you can, you put your, now stained crimson red, top in your mouth to bite down on and grab your shin.

You start to pull your leg out of the spikes, the foot being shredded in the meantime. You look away and don’t stop no matter what. Your foot is out. It’s mangled. But it’s out. You hang your head and sigh in relief as you let out a small cry.

“I win…” you breathed out heavily as you crawl over out the walkway and prop yourself up against the wall

*the speech was written by the lovely @lace-coffin !! Yall should check out their stuff!!

Thank you so much for reading and as always! Feel free to request stuff!!! 🩷

#saw franchise #saw fanart #saw #sawposting #saw movies #saw 3 #saw 2004 #saw x #saw iii #aliceinwonderland #headcanon #alice madness returns #disney #slasher x reader #slashers #alice in wonderland #alices adventures in wonderland #alice glass #horror #billy the puppet #john kramer

[remadra]

The Powers That Be

HC's and bragging under the cut

All the paintings were referenced from the game but I did them myself, I made the wallpaper design, yes I did the wood grain line by line because I'm insane and I taught myself to mimic the VHS/static effect manually. I'm incredibly proud of all the work I put into learning new techniques and improving my skills! Okay!!!

It's all canon to my Pale City teens AU but it's also my HC for the series in general.

Each power manifests as a warped version of its respective child. Hunger doesn't quite look like Six though. I HC'd the shadow in LN2 after Six gets taken as the Hunger manifesting, displaced because the Broadcast overpowered and kicked it out as Six was taken into the TV, and that it originally was RCG's power. Six and RCG have the same silhouette with their hoods up, or at least close enough to fool people into mixing them up. It attached to Six after RCG fell in order to save itself, because it needs a body to feed off or it'll fade away. That's why it seemingly encourages Mono forward when he falls from the train- it can't take Mono, he already has the Broadcast, but it can follow him back to Six, like a ship following an ice breaker. Hunger requires feeding (whether it be gaining control/power over something or feeding Six's ego in a pinch) but unlike any other power, it isn't bound to a location. It's a splinter of the Maw's power that clung to RCG, the daughter of The Lady, when she ran away, seeking to gain a foothold somewhere away from the ship to grow itself. In a way, both were running from their mothers. Hunger, as a non-location bound power, can also feed off other powers, slowly gaining abilities similar to or derived from others. Originally it couldn't transform it's kid into any monstrous forms, but close contact with the Broadcast's Tuning gave it an edge so Six can warp herself at will. Hunger can only grow, but so will the cost of feedings. This is why it only has one concrete ability for its current child unlike the other's having two.

The Broadcast is Mono's power, and rarely shows itself to others. It can be glimpsed lagging behind Mono as he runs through the tower or TV hops if one looked closely, but its shy for an all-powerful being. It prefers to watch. Its granted abilities are the TV connection and Tuning the world, though its restricted to the Pale City to stay at its most powerful. Mono can Tune things from their warped to normal forms, like clearing static from a screen, but it doesn't work on living things, or he can Tune something Out like The Thin Man into simply... not existing anymore. He can Tune his powers to be more precise but it's exhausting. The TV connection allows him to hop around via the screens, both through space and time as long as a TV is connected to the Signal Tower. It's easier to hop short distances because the toll is exponential. Mono could move a mile with one hop, but it takes less energy to make a series of short hops to move the same mile. It's also much easier to only move through time or space, so he'll often look for close by TV's to use before heading to a specific moment. To avoid paradox problems in the time loop, interacting with himself in a way he doesn't remember causes extreme migraines as the Broadcast patches in the new memories. He tries not to use it too much, and avoids spoilers for the future. They only cause problems.

The Pretender's power is called the Command. Strongest at the Nest, but weakest in its own personality, it allows her to direct or control adults in her domain- The Butler and The Craftsman would still do their jobs as adults are incredibly focused on purposes, but a little direction with a Demand helps remind them who's in charge. The vocal ability also has an effect on children. Though she can't Demand them to do anything, it can paralyze them momentarily. This ability gets stronger the older the target until they're compelled to follow orders. Her second ability is the Dismissal Touch, wiping the victim from the world and only leaving their possessions behind. It only works on the living, so her Touch wouldn't have any effect on the Bullies or something already dead. It's not that her gloves would stop the Dismissal either, it works on anyone through clothing as long as they connect, but because Pretty's powers are closely linked to her emotions it helps to have a tangible cover so she doesn't slip up and Dismiss a friend by accident. That is a hassle for Mono to fix via time hopping and restarting the day. Checking her gloves gives her a sense of security. Anything that startles or frightens her can cause her power to flare in defense.

That's what I have to share so far!!!

#little nightmares #little nightmares shadow #little nightmares hunger #little nightmares broadcast #little nightmares command #little nightmares hc #my art #rembles #im. i hope you all like it. i worked really hard and im really excited. #body horror #tw body horror

[nightmareofthelake]

rabbit's foot and deer antler (Part 1/2)

Dale drinks to much and David helps him back to his room

Dale missed normal days. Normal, mundane days. Days where he sat at his desk for hours doing paperwork. Days where he would sit in front of the TV and fall asleep after the sun went down. Days when he was sure the blood on his hands came from cutting himself while shaving. Days when he was sure he was still human.

But now he was sitting there at the hotel bar. He had long since forgotten how many drinks he had, but that didn't matter to him. As long as the crow keeps pushing a new glass into his hand, everything was fine. Ms. Pheasant stood on stage and sang her song about the tragedies of the past and the blood of the future while Dale stared into the deep amber in his glass. Her singing washed over him and washed everything away, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. Her voice was nothing more than an echo in his head and the alcohol only tasted like empty promises. His whole body felt like TV static and Dale wasn't sure if it was because he was drunk or if it was just because he was too far gone. Was there even anything human left in him?

The echo became more and more distorted until Dale could only hear static and his own heartbeat. The static slowly began to take over his vision too. Shouldn't he be worried? To panic? Do something to regain his senses? Dale just sat there and let it happen. Why bother and delay the inevitable? Dark spots appeared in Dale's vision and slowly began to grow and grow until the detective could see nothing but darkness.

Dale felt...nothing...

There was only emptiness.

There was something heavy on his shoulder. Heavy and hot. It seemed to be tugging at him and stabbing into him. "Detective?" The voice was closer to a whisper than a scream, but to Dale it sounded like he was standing next to an exploding bomb. Dale's limbs felt heavy and hungover, the taste of whiskey bloomed in his mouth, and the endless darkness gave way to blinding light.

“Detective Vandermeer? Are you okay?" The voice sounded familiar, but Dale's brain still wasn't willing to cooperate. He blinked a few times, hoping to get used to the light more quickly, but when he turned to the person next to him, all he saw was a blurry silhouette. "My God! Detective! I was hoping that you would at least give me a quick glance during my show,” the voice sounded as if someone was forcing themselves to put on a cheerful facade. Dale could hear the worry even in his current state. “But ignoring me this whole time did hurt a bit.” Dale's eyes were faster than his brain, which is why he initially had no reaction when he saw David Eilander's face. In fact, he was on the verge of apologizing before his brain suddenly caught up and anger began to spread within him.

The detective just grunted in annoyance and went back to his full glass. He didn't know what had happened to him before the magician had pulled him back into reality, but he did know that it had left him with a massive migraine. Maybe he just drank too much. A gentle squeeze reminded Dale that David still had his hand on his shoulder. He tried to swat it away, but the sudden movement sent Dale swaying and almost kissing the ground, which was fortunately prevented by the magician. "If you had watched my show instead of setting a new hotel drinking record, this wouldn't have happened," David commented as he tried to help the detective to his feet, which only earned him another annoyed grunt. Dale tried to pull away, but quickly realized he couldn't stand without the other man's support. David tightened his grip on the detective and slowly began to lead him towards the exit. "All right then. Bedtime!" Dale didn't have the strength or energy to fight back and just let the other person lead him. His mind screamed at him why he let this happen but, his body refused any attempt of beating the magician. He basically refused to move at all, which resulted in David dragging the detective along with him.

“I hope you come and see my show someday.” David tried to sound casual, trying to hide both his remorse and his longing for the other's attention. “I hope I see a bullet hole between your eyes someday.” Dale forced the words out. It was painful. Every movement was painful. Just what had that bird put in his drink?

The magician patted him on the back. He could understand the hate and he definitely deserved it, but it still hurt. It hurt more than David expected, but there was nothing he could do but bear it in silence. “Before that happens, you might want to sober up a bit…” David dragged the detective to his bedroom door and had him lean against the wall to take some of the weight off himself. “Where is your key?” In response, David only received an angry look from Dale and the magician sighed exhaustively. He had hoped not to have to do this because he was afraid of upsetting the detective even more, but he apparently had no other choice. He carefully began to search through his pockets and found quite a few things. Two lighters. A tissue. Some change. A signed photo of Harvey. And in the left inside pocket of his jacket he found the key.

David was very familiar with the hotel room keys. A simple skeleton key with a small tag with the room number on it. He saw tons of them and owned one himself. But Dale's key was different. Instead of the usual tag, there was something else hanging on it. It was long and white...and furry? “Is that a rabbit’s foot?” The magician looked questioningly at Dale, but he wouldn't get an answer so quickly because the detective was asleep. David sighed and unlocked the room. Since Dale was now completely hanging on David like a wet sack, the magician had no other choice but to carry the detective into the room. He hooked his free arm under the other's knees and in one gentle movement lifted him up. Fortunately, Dale's bed wasn't far and David reached it in a few steps, as he couldn't have carried him for long. His back will definitely hate him tomorrow.

The magician laid him on the bed, took off his jacket and tie and took his shoes off his feet. He didn't dare to remove anything else because he didn't want the detective to get the wrong impression of him. He already had a reason to hate him and he didn't want to give him more. David covered the drunken detective and put the key with the rabbit's foot on the side table. “Rest, detective. And good night."

David closed the door behind him and made his way to Aldous. He could use a drink now.

[Part 2]

#rusty lake #dale vandermeer #david eilander #my writing #my fanfiction #rabbit's foot and deer antler

[dressed-euphoric]

Vintage Program

By. Euphoric Dressed

An unexpected television program sets off a change for you.

Word Count: 6160

Your back slumps upon the couch with a sigh of relief releasing into the air. Your feet resting upon the table in front of you with your favorite drink nearby. The feeling was momentary until the clock breaks the calm: the day was already over, again. 

It was always like this, every single day: you would go to work, then you would come home. You would change into your comfortable clothes, then make your favorite drink. Then, at last, it was you, the couch, and the TV. A routine that has become your life. 

Except, tonight was filled with a bit of hope, a hope that something will change this pitying routine of yours. The clock still shows a few hours before midnight, and you got nothing to lose from losing out on sleep. You hope when midnight hums, everyone’s vow will somehow enlighten you for yours. You let out a small chuckle at the thought of it. Maybe it was the pessimistic side of you that knew nothing will change. 

After all, you’ve made goals to become fit, to eat healthier, to find someone you would connect with; all of them barely lasted a week. So what will change this time that will suddenly make you break this mundane life of yours? At this point, it might as well be nothing.

Yet, you lay there hearing the clock tick, and tick, and tick nested in the sounds of your favorite show. Your throat gulping your favorite drink till finally, midnight made her sounds. 

You stare at the clock, unable to keep your eyes open: 12:01 AM it says. That was it. Your shoulder shrugs at the time. There was nothing to be felt. No sudden wave of adrenaline pushing you to your dreams, or how your body starts to dance to life. Nothing. All that will continue to exist is work and your couch. 

Wait. What had happened? Your teeth tighten, fuming your breaths outward. Great. A static screen on your modern TV. Your hands dash toward the clicker in an attempt to roll it back. You press the button which devolves into a smashing of buttons. You snarl a curse under your breath.

Your heart jumps as it comes back on, just not your show. The colors were a bit odd, reminding you of the old retro shows. A man stood there dressed in the most elegant suit you’ve ever seen: a charcoal gray suit that draped perfectly on his body. His trousers were sharply creased and underneath it, was a pair of shiny black oxfords. He looked like an old-school gentleman with his appearance.

His hair was black with slight streaks of silver. It was slick smoothly to the side with a hard part and shimmers underneath the light. Then there were his eyes, a deep blue that ensnares at you; they seem almost too hypnotic. Your nerves jump out under his gaze as he flashes a smile behind the screen.

“Greetings gents, I’m Dr. Wilton.” He announces with a small bow, “welcome to my program, where I’m here to change your life.” 

Change your life? You scoff at him. What was with this TV program? Your hands went straight to the clicker to change the show. You watch as your hands hover on top of the clicker, as you contemplate your decision. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to tune in and get a few laughs. You even wonder what kind of a ridiculous show it would turn out to be. 

It was propaganda. You let out a loud laugh at yourself. You couldn’t believe you watched the whole thing! 

Dr. Wilton talked about the imperfection of current society: how men carried themselves, and the way they were portrayed. He then preached values that all men should aspire to uphold. And like how he was presented, he reminded everyone of their appearances. The exact statement rang clear as bells in your head:

“Gents, you are destined to wear the appropriate clothes. We do not carry ourselves in a ‘disrespectful manner’. A clean crisp ironed shirt and trousers are to be expected. A perfectly knotted tie among your necks. Your socks should be conservative and show no skin. Your shoes are leather and polished. I would even go as far as to encourage the suit as all men should wear.”

You shake your head in disbelief. What nonsense was the man spewing? To expect everyone to conform to such values and mannerisms? Then, to even imagine yourself dressed all day in such dying clothes! You glimpse at your attire, and it’s no wonder everyone else does too. What was he to declare what was appropriate or not? At the very least, he had made your night amusing, a great start to your year. 

——

Tomorrow came as quickly as any other day with yesterday tossed into the wind. You carry on, even forgetting the program you’ve watched last night. Even with the new year, there were no expectations or any goals. 

And yet, why did it feel there was a change? A feeling that arouses inside the pit of your stomach: it gnarls and hisses. It gnaws, turning your inside out. It started this morning, and you had hoped it’ll die down. But even now at work, the feeling grows inside of you. Your body’s a bit tense as you labor your breathing. Your palms start to sweat, although you never had sweaty palms in the past. 

Then upon reaching home and changing into your comfortable clothes, you thought your haven will save you from whatever it was. If you just sit back on your couch with your favorite drink and your favorite show, it will all go away. And yet for the first time in a while, you browse the TV in search of something. Your favorite show wasn’t doing it so you tried the next, then the next of your interest.

Why? What was wrong? You clench your fist and a grunt of many words lashes into the night. Your voice slowly became loud at the insignificant details. You didn’t feel sick nor was there a fever coming in, but something was ramping you up. That was it. You were done with the night. 

The next couple of days didn’t get better. It grew and became more of a bottomless pit that dugs into you, pulling your body awry. You feel yourself always shuffling your feet in your athletic shoes. Your knees clad in jeans, constantly bounces upon sitting down. Somehow all of the sudden, you could feel bugs swarming all around your shirt, even though you’ve checked it a million times. Nothing was ever there. 

Your nights weren’t better at all; they became worse. Your haven slowly dissolved into a discordance of madness. You try so hard to watch even 10 minutes of your shows before you couldn’t stand it. Your body’s constantly shuffling on your couch with your dry throat. Your words start to express more, none of it filled with the laughter of the past.

Then there was that craving, a hunger yearning to be satiated. It grows every night as you flip through shows trying to figure out what the hunger desires. Why can’t you get what you wanted?

This went on for another couple of days, then a trip to the doctor ensued. “You’re looking pretty healthy.” The doctor told you.

That was a lie. You weren’t healthy at all by how you were acting. The doctor told you physically, there was nothing wrong. Then, it must be a psychological effect. If so, what was the cause? 

On your way back home, your fingers intensely tap against the wheel. Your body keeps fidgeting, and your feet encumber against the pedal. Then somehow, your eyes caught a glance upon a store. A display window showcasing a mannequin dressed in a gray plaid suit. 

Right there and then, it was like the tense packed clouds in your mind suddenly releasing their gates. Your body and your shoulder lose all the weight of the world as the light slowly descends. At last, there was no monster inside of you devouring you whole. There was nothing more than your body could ever crave. 

Your body was still with your feet gently touching the pedal. Your hands soften against the wheel. A smile widens as you welcome the feeling. Till your eyes focus elsewhere, and all is gone. 

The monster was back, and you can hear it roaring at you. Your teeth clench as the monstrous feeling claws your body apart. Your hands ferociously grip the wheel as you can hear your heart bursting so loudly at the speed of light. Something was defective inside of you. 

It was that store. How could it be? It was just a suit store… there was nothing more to it. Your feet stomp onto the pedal with no care for the speed limit. There the store was again right in front of you. You found yourself escaping out of the car, then your feet rushing to the front of the door. A long wind of breath slowly upheaves from you and slowly, everything was silent. Except, the echo of your heartbeats, as your eyes delicately peel the display windows. 

You had never gone into a suit store or had any desire to in the past. So why now do you so desperately want to go inside? Was it insanity that you felt drawn to the store? The thought makes you boil under your skin. What could you possibly want in this place? 

There was no reason to go in. Rather, your precious time was ripping away from your routine; that was going to be the solution to your madness. You just have to crank your favorite drink, sit down on your couch, and desperately watch your favorite show. 

No… there was no favorite show anymore. Your routine was a failure for your problem. It was never going to fix that gnawing feeling that keeps troubling you. You focus on the door till everything else fades. That was it. You have to go in. So you open the door and step into an undesired realm. 

Your eyes flash toward the vast selection of clothes they hold. A bundle of kindle sets ablaze in your heart. You could feel the sweat on the back of your neck. None of it was a result of the gnawing pit. No, your symptoms were from a different feeling: one that a new child rejoices upon a discovery.

You couldn’t help yourself as you stroke your hands on the fabric of the suit jackets. Each touch sends a beautiful shock that trembles your core. You couldn’t keep your eyes off the dress shirts and ties that hung out and above. You study the creases on each pair of trousers and note how pristine they were. You inspect each of the leather dress shoes, ranging from oxfords, brogues, and loafers, feeling the artwork. 

You knew you didn’t fit into any of these clothes. You let out a small laugh imagining yourself dressed in such attire. No way was that going to happen. 

But your mind toys with the idea. You bet having that button-up dress shirt would’ve felt delightful against your skin compared to the shirt you were wearing now. You could feel it hug around your chest and shoulder. Then there was the collar as it tightens against your neck. You reach with your hands to touch your collarbone. You didn’t like how the collar was always stiff on your neck but now… it was a strange desire: you wouldn’t mind it. Maybe even with a tie? The tie would be tightened and warm against your neck with a distinguishable knot. The thought makes you blush as you imagine yourself.

You couldn’t believe what your mind was conjuring! This wasn’t you. What was going on that you must think of such thoughts? No. This isn’t what you wanted. 

But the trousers that were hung would’ve looked good on you. How the crease makes you more refined. How the trousers will clasp against your waist instead of your usual choice of pants. Staring down at your pants sickens you as you feel it is undesirable. 

Then there were the leather dress shoes. Your heart’s still pumping as suddenly, your feet crave to step into them. How good it would feel to walk in them. You couldn’t resist as you examine a pair. A groan escapes your lips as the smell of the rich alluring leather travels to your nose. Just touching a pair made your feet wince against the feeling of your athletic shoes. 

But if you were to wear a pair of leather dress shoes, then you can’t wear your short white socks. The thought makes you cringe as you look down at your feet. You were going to need one of the many conservative dress socks displayed, all labeled over the calf. You didn’t know how you will feel about them. Only thoughts of how they would caress against your feet or how they will feel when you lounge in them. The thought makes you flush even harder as you pick up a pair.

This was the most insane trip you’ve ever gone on! You were not going to become a dandy. What are you thinking!? A sense of disgust toils inside of you at your thoughts. You needed to leave. 

But you can’t leave without the suit jacket. You needed one to complete the set! Just imagine wearing one on top of your dress shirt, trousers, and leather shoes. The fabric would weave everything into harmony, and you would be the eloquent man you’ve desired. 

“Can I help you?” A voice came behind you.

The shopkeeper stood there dressed in his brown plaid suit, white shirt, green tie, and brown loafers. His brown hair neatly parted to the side. His beard was neatly trimmed and distinguished by a handlebar mustache.

A thought came to invade your mind: the man was where you wanted to be, an embodiment of what you saw yourself. 

That was it. That was the final evidence that you weren’t yourself. An outrageous flame howls at your thoughts and emotions. Your voice fills with harsh tones and consonants towards the man: you were just browsing. Your feet storm off the door and into your car, unable to comprehend what went through you in the store. 

You didn’t need any of those clothes. You didn’t want anything relating to the idea of being dressed in such attire. No, because that wasn’t you. A growl erupts from you. Just a week ago, you were fine. But now, your clothes are harsh and itch against your skin. Your feet stomp around the house. You chug water down your throat in an attempt to calm down. 

Then the image of that man came into your head. The hysterical-dressed man who spoke of such ideals. Dr. Wilton was his name. What was it that he spoke of? You couldn’t remember because you laughed at his comedic program. It drives you nuts as you try to recount how to find him. 

You quickly descend upon your couch and turn the clicker. You flip through channels on your TV, hoping to find him. Your heart jumps at the familiar face on the screen. The colors are still the same in reminiscence of the retro shows you’ve encountered. 

Dr. Wilton stood there in his lavish charcoal suit. He still has the same black parted hair as you first saw him. His hair was as greasy and shiny as his black shoes. You didn’t care for it at first, but you found yourself in awe of his hair. What was it about his hair? 

There’s also the fact that you didn’t like Dr. Wilton. Why didn’t you? Maybe because he seemed like an outdated man with an outdated view. He was out of touch in this modern society of yours. All factors contribute to your disdain. But yet, here you were watching him. 

“Did you find me?” He grins at you.

His blue eyes still stare at you, just like he was directly talking to you. That hypnotic trance feeling when you first watch him. You could feel the chill settling into your body. What were you doing here, watching the outrageous man? 

But the thing is, the sensation that was devouring you inside out was gone. The distraught rhythm in your body soon came to a steady metronome. You didn’t miss the loud thumps of your heartbeat or how your breaths were like sparks of electricity fizzling outwards.

No. There was none of that. Instead, it was just the sensation of the breeze lightly grazing your skin. What is the word that you couldn’t grasp? It felt just right. That was the sensation: right. When everything finally fits in the puzzle.

So your body starts to slouch against the back of the couch. Your dancing legs are no more and finally, you raise your feet to rest on top of your table. You glimpse at your white socks and instinctively took them off your feet. Then something was missing from your feet for comfort. You just didn’t know what it was. 

Then, there was an urge to take off your shirt and lounging pants, but you stop yourself. A bit too uncomfortable to just be in your undergarments, and besides, you want to replace them. Of what? 

You reach upward to scratch your Adam’s apple like there was something that was supposed to be there. You couldn’t make it out but just felt your neck, looking for something. 

At which point, all sense of care and sane steam into the air. Your mind is already too fatigued from the constant agony in the past days. For once, you just want to enjoy the missed calm.

You didn’t care that you didn’t like Dr. Wilton, nor would you care if he spouts nonsense you disagree with. Your chest heaves inward and then puffs outwards, the sense of normality as you get back to your rhythm. Your eyes glue upon the screen of Dr. Wilton. So you watch as he talks throughout the night, as he lashes at you with his beliefs. 

The night was filled with what you had forgotten. How you miss the laughter and joy that used to accompany your nights. How your mouth was in bliss as you sip your favorite drink. You’ve let small chuckles in repulse at Dr. Wilton and his ideals. A couple of facepalms as you cringe at his words. But you bear with it for the entertainment he was giving you. 

Before you knew it, you did the same thing the next couple of days. The days were filled with the gnawing pit inside of you, followed by nights of dapper Dr. Wilton which you heartily disagree with. Soon, it evolved into a craving for the night: no, it wasn’t Dr. Wilton nor his show. You simply looked forward to the cure of your psychological being.

Then one night came as you settle on your couch, eagerly waiting for his show to come on. Your knee bounces up and down in anticipation of your fix. You hated that you felt like an addict, waiting every night just to watch the goddamn show to feel at peace. Your opinion of him hasn't changed one bit. He was still the same insane old-timer as he was. 

You pull your white socks off instantly, and you even watch the show in your underwear. A new addition to your routine. You didn’t recall when you started the habit, but you didn’t care. You had an urge to and you followed it. Either way, it felt much better getting them off of you. 

Your hands tap the glass of your favorite drink like time has been forever. Your body leans forward with your eyes darting from the clock to the screen. There he is, always dressed in his sophisticated suits. His shiny hair and his shiny shoes. His ample smile and abundant charm. 

Your body leans back against the couch with a smile on your face, awaiting to relieve yourself of the day. You couldn’t wait to laugh at his ridiculous program or to ridicule him like you’ve been doing the past couple of days. After all, you didn’t care at all for Dr. Wilton. It was just the fix you were after. 

He began and this time was different. You expected yourself to sit back, scoff at him and laugh, dismiss his ideas and values, and then shame him loudly. Your eyes will roll, and you will shake your head. You will tell him there was no chance you were going to follow his words, and move on, never minding he said anything worth hearing. 

It was different. He felt different. What was different this time? He was always the same man as he was in his show, so nothing changed. His manner and his belief were still the same. And yet, you look into his eyes, following his every move and pattern. Your ears listen to his words as clear as day in your head. 

You were listening to him. You, who have been ridiculing Dr. Wilton and spoke out loud in disbelief, were sitting on your couch with your ears open for him. What was going on? You didn’t find the programme as funny as before. 

Why weren’t you laughing at the statement he had just made? You let out a fake laugh at something he had said, but you stop yourself. This couldn’t be. Weren’t you going to refute him? You nod your head in agreement at what Dr. Wilton had said, which you caught yourself doing. That was weird. Your lips repeat in agreement with him, which you quickly take back. 

His words were strung along with clarity and conviction. They wrapped themselves around your heart so tightly that they could no longer be pried from you. The same words that you openly disagree with, became a muse whispering into your ears. Your head nods along his sentences. Your body leans forward to the screen.

There was no laughter and no ridicule. All that exists between you and the screen is genuine curiosity. You like the man on the screen. The way his body dances as he sings his speech, or how his hair and shoes dazzle under the spotlights. There was his tone of voice and his conduct that you enjoy. Then there was the suit that sets him apart, dressed in the finery that no one dares to stumble into. 

You couldn’t stop yourself. Did you want to stop? Listen to him. You shake your head at what you were listening to. Your normal course was to disagree and argue against his teaching and yet, your body resonates with his words. This was wrong. Pull yourself together. 

Your hands tremble at the sight of your conflict, unable to draw away from the screen. Watch him. Your eyes follow his every movement. Your mouth moves to a smile as he smiles, and laughs as he jokes. Your voice repeats the dissatisfaction he has expressed, then you give your heart away to the values he preaches. You listen to his every breath and reenact his lips. 

There was nothing to worry about. After all, you liked Dr. Wilton. What was so wrong with agreeing to a person you admire? There was no way you were going to laugh at him or refrain from his words. In fact, every word he has spoken thus far has enlightened you. 

The program ended before you knew it and a bitter taste left settling in your mouth. It was no longer a bitterness of disbelief but a bitterness of dissatisfaction. You wanted to watch the next part of Dr. Wilton’s program. But, then you remembered what he had talked about.

A newfound hope lit inside of you as you thought back and reflect upon Dr. Wilton. You laugh at your old ideals in comparison to Dr. Wilton’s. You couldn’t understand why you hated Dr. Wilton in the first place. His words were right. You cross your arms, thinking how crazy you must have been for not following Dr. Wilton’s words. Why didn’t you follow his words? 

The next morning couldn’t come soon enough. You got up bright and early, expecting yourself to be devoid of Dr. Wilton. It was the opposite: all you could think about was Dr. Wilton and his talk. You look at yourself in your mirror and feel the gnawing pit again. You know what you need to do. 

Your heart was racing as you search for a barber shop specializing in classic haircuts. You hesitate as you wonder if it was the right choice. You have to do it. You grin as you confirm the appointment. 

You didn’t know what to expect, but you yearn for correcting yourself. When it was time for your barber’s appointment, you went excitedly into the chair. One look in the mirror, and you knew exactly what you want.

The barber nods and starts to remove your old cherished hairstyle. In its place was something new and worthy. He asks if you want him to add the product to your hair, which you notice the pomade he carries. This was it. You smile at him, affirming the decision. 

He dips his hands into the shiny goo and rubs it between his hands. You watch as he descends his hands upon your hair. Normally, you couldn’t imagine yourself getting the haircut you were getting today or even wanting the shiny goo in your hair. But you know you were on the right track with Dr. Wilton’s wisdom. 

The barber’s hand massages your scalp, stripping the old you as he coats each strand of your hair into the new welcome territory. Then you could feel him combing your hair, molding you into what Dr. Wilton preached. 

You stare at yourself in your first step. You look different, away from your old self. Your hair was neatly trimmed, short, and combed perfectly over to the side. You notice the stark sharp parted line the barber had given you. You couldn’t help yourself grinning as your hair shines under the light. 

But something was missing, and you did feel it. You were out of touch with your hair, and you know what was next. You never had a desire for it in the past but now, all you could think of is what you should’ve been wearing your whole life. 

You tip the barber generously for what he had done for you and went on your merry way. Then, all you could think of was the next location that you were going to. 

The suit store stands in front of you. The same feeling you felt the first time you’ve been here was back. The sweat on the back of your neck. The alit blaze within your heart. Your glowing eyes at what’s to come. This time was going to be different. You came here to correct yourself. You walk in with no hesitation.

The first thing you wanted to get rid of was your shoes. It was time to let those improper dirty shoes go. Comfort wasn’t in athletic shoes. No, comfort lies in the leathers. Your eyes scan among the pairs, each one as exciting as the next. Then your eyes caught upon a pair and you knew it was meant for you: a pair of dress brown penny loafers. 

There was the smell again, the aroma of rich leather. You couldn’t stop yourself as you grab and inhale the freshness. You took off your shoes instantly and put the loafers on. Your feet scream in delight as you feel the loafers enveloping you. You didn’t care if you wear them with your white socks or if it looks a bit odd with your pants. You just couldn’t imagine yourself wearing anything else but the appropriate footwear.

But that doesn’t mean you will keep wearing your white socks. It was time to leave those behind. After all, a proper gentleman cares as much about the details as how he appears. You gaze upon the selection of dress socks they had, labeled over the calf. You pick a couple of them, knowing just how much enjoyment you will have upon slipping and lounging with them. 

Then it was finally time to get rid of the awful shirt you have on. Compared to the button-collared shirts on display, your shirt was inferior. You so desperately want it to drape over your torso, button yourself up, and then knot the collar tight upon your neck. Your smile was as wide as the earth spun. 

Then you couldn’t forget what should be knotted against your collar. A staple that every man should own and wear. It was a shame really, that all men couldn’t bear to enjoy such things. You found a stunning navy striped tie perfect for the pact you will knot yourself to. The first of many to come. Then all you were missing was the grand piece, and you know what you wanted. 

Your eyes first laid on it when you drove by. A hunger that awaits to be satiated by you putting it on. Perfection was the only word stuck in your mind. Your eyes caught sight of the gray plaid suit in the display window. The selection stood near and you went for it.

You missed the fabric that shook your core. Your hands are on top of the suit jacket, caressing it and feeling every fiber of the jacket. You were going to let it surround you and your body, and make you what you should’ve been. You picked it up and the matching trousers. It was then you decided your pants will be no more. In its place will be the fine trousers with the right crease. It will sit on your waist compared to your unsightly old pants. 

You encounter the same man and apologize to him for your disrespectful action. He smiles at you, taken aback by how different you look. He sent a compliment that he appreciates the new look, which you agree with.

Your voice strikes up a conversation with him, with your tongue almost a reminiscence of the man you’ve watched on TV. Your voice was different, and the way you spoke was not like yours, but you didn’t mind. 

Your eyes caught wind of the newspaper by the checkout, which you bought in an instant even though reading newspapers was not your hobby. You send your thanks to the man and wish him a proper good day. 

As you rush into your home, you can feel the sweat dripping from your body. Your heart thumps loudly more than ever. You couldn’t wait at all so you rush to your bedroom and shed away the undesired attire. 

You weren’t going to taint your closet with your old shirt and pants. Instead, you threw it into the trash. Along with it came your old shoes and your old white socks. You didn’t need them anymore. You look through your old clothes knowing that all of them will have to go, but that was for another day.

The first piece of garment was the socks. You rip into the packaging of the socks like a vulture. You grab a hold of the long black socks in your hands and feel the material: exquisite and soft. You slip the socks into your feet and a wave of relief escapes your mouth. This was it. Oh, how you dream of satisfying this craving of yours. This was what you were missing. Your hands went straight to caress the socks on your legs. You could feel the spark of ecstasy flying between your fingertips.

You hunger for more. You got up and took the white dress shirt over the back of your body. Your hands slip through the sleeves in an instant. Your hands flew to the buttons and lock them on you. Then, at last, the collar as you button it against your neck. 

It was just like how you imagined it on your body. It was a sweet taste that blossoms in your mouth, as your saliva drops onto the ground. You didn’t mind it. You embrace it. Your hands couldn’t move quickly enough as it grabs ahold of the tie. You wrap it around the collar of your neck. Your hand moves and weaves the tie, forming the knot. You pull it up, making sure it was secured tight against your neck.

It felt good having it tight against your neck. The warmth of the tie resting on your body. A sweet warmth that will never go away. It was also the proper accompaniment to yourself. It was at that moment, all you can envision was a tie on your neck every day. 

You took a moment and look down upon yourself: your white shirt with the navy stripe tie, your underwear, and your long black socks that went past your calves. A sense of great righteousness fills you up as you feel each of the garments on your body. You wiggle your toes in your socks, how soft they touch upon you. You feel your collar and pull the tie just a bit to ensure that it was indeed tight against your neck. 

Then, at last, the final piece. You slow your breath and cull your excitement. You couldn’t wait to put it on but you have to savor the moment. So, you slowly reach and grab the gray plaid trousers. You step into your new form, knowing you’re going to like it. 

You pull it up and tuck your shirt in gently. You clasp the trousers on your waist, feeling the fabric on your legs. It was smooth on your skin. You notice the stark crease on them, making you feel refined. From now on, all you will ever wear on your legs was a pair of trousers. 

Your hands reach for the jacket and flung it behind you. Finally. You let the jacket hug against you as it completes you. It envelopes you. It makes you into what you desire. It is the final piece to make you whole. 

Then you step your feet into the brown loafers, a newfound comfort. An admiration of how distinct they made you feel. Now, you were more mature than those hideous shoes you wore in the past. The loafers weren’t polished yet but you know there will be much joy from shining them. 

You let out a deep breath settling into yourself. You could smell the fabric, how intoxicating it was as it wraps around you. This was the right choice. 

You walk to the mirror and see yourself. A sight to behold with your body turning its wheel. You in the mirror stood properly dressed in a gray plaid suit, a white dress shirt with a navy striped tie. Your feet are shrouded in lovely brown loafers, revealing a bit of the long black socks underneath your trousers. 

Your hair was no longer what you had carried in the past. It was neat. It was elegant. It was trimmed and short. It was parted against the side and showed a sleek line. It glimmers under the light, a shine that distinguishes you. 

This was proper. That gnawing feeling inside of you transforms into a profound sense of self. An awakening if you call it. A contract that you willed into existence and will sign over and over again. You’ve made that decision to be like this, and each morning, you will make the same one. 

You will be dressed in the proper attire. You will wear the appropriate shoes. Your hair will be tidy. You couldn’t be happy enough! 

You walk out of your bedroom as a new man. You went to your couch and pull out the newspaper you’ve just bought. You cross your legs, staring at your loafers and dress socks on your feet. You smile knowing you’ve made the right choice. And thus, you open the newspaper wide and start reading. 

You wear your suit till evening. Then you turn on your favorite show. Dr. Wilton stood there dressed in his impeccable suit: this time, a navy blue. His hair and shoes are still as shiny as ever.

You liked Dr. Wilton. What he talked about. What he suggested. You laugh as he jokes, and you smile as he smiles. Your voice is distraught as he was the same. You agree with him heartily with no disagreement. Every day, you couldn’t wait to be dressed properly as Dr. Wilton have wanted. And every night, you couldn’t wait to settle into your couch, with your favorite newspaper, and your favorite show.

“This is the vintage program, where I show you the proper path by being a vintage man.” He grins. 

[veryace-ficrecs]

Hey! I saw your pjo fic list and was wondering if you could do a spoiler free list for tv show fans like maybe just book one stuff thanks!

Of course I can!

Percy Jackson TV Fic Recs (Spoiler Free)

So! the way that I've done this is divided it into two levels of spoilers. The first half will be fics that are spoiler free up to the currently released episode (as of right now, that's ep5 A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers). The second half of the list will be spoiler free up to the end of the first book, and subsequently the end of the first season of the show.

Keep in mind that most fics will be based on the books, and there may be some events that are either re-arranged, or happen differently then they may have in the show.

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! Enjoy!!

Spoiler Free up to Ep 5: A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers

A Hephaestus TV Special by Alexandra989 - Rated G

Olympus tunes in to a Hephaestus TV Special- featuring Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase on the Thrill Ride of Love.

Episode Four: I Plunge to My Death by beady_toast - Rated G

He took a deep breath, counting to three before letting it go. He could see a little better now, faint light breaking through the window as the scenery whizzed past outside.The floor of the train felt hard and cold against his back, every bump sending a jolt to his heart. He opened his mouth to speak, but second guessed himself.

Annabeth still seemed to be considering whether or not he was worth keeping around at all. Grover would be insufferable. That guy (goat?) liked his sleep almost as much as he liked food.

“You asleep?” He whispered, words slipping out before he could decide whether or not he wanted to say them.

The silence was deafening, filling Percy’s ears with static. He chided himself for even thinking anyone would be awake. It was a stupid, childish–

“Yes,” a soft monotone voice replied. Percy fought the urge to smile. Silence stretched between him and Annabeth.

dangerous games // percabeth by annabxth - Rated G

percy shook his head helplessly, as if in disbelief of what she was implying. his face was sickly pale, his veins were prominent now, and his under-eyes a stark red. his face was sheen with sweat. annabeth knew he didn’t have much more time if they didn’t hurry. she moved to close the door, urging them to go, but percy called out again. “wait.” he said. he dug into his pocket. his hands trembled as he carelessly flicked the cap off of his pen, allowing it to become a sword. he offered it to her. “take this.” ~~ the arch scene in episode 4 from annabeth’s POV.

verklempt by achievingelysium - Rated T

Annabeth never liked water. ... Percy was nothing like she imagined the most important person in her life would be. He was her ticket to a quest. He wasn’t much of a reader—didn’t like books—but had sharp eyes and could think fast. Luke said he was a natural with his sword. He drooled in his sleep. He was quite possibly the most annoying person she’d ever met. And… even though she wasn’t supposed to, she liked him.

The start of a legend by Phantomxlegend - Rated G

When you just find out you’re a demigod and immediately get thrown on a world ending, life or death style quest. It can be a little stressful. Or Just some small Grover comforting Percy because y’all forgot about Grover.

A Mother's Love by wiseassrat - Rated G

"She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy--if it makes you feel any better." Actually, that did not make him feel better. That did not make him feel better at all. Grover puts something into perspective and now Percy feels undeserved guilt about his mom. Takes place just before their first quest.

Packed and Petrified by DancingInTheSliverGlow - Rated G

In the lightning thief, Percy Jackson defeats Medusa and then promptly sends her decapitated head to the greek gods.

When the olympians got a package “best wishes percy jackson," Zeus probably said something along the lines of, "At last, my bolt! Finally, your son admits to steali-" and then gets turned to stone for like five seconds.

This is what I imagined happened, starring: Zeus mostly as a stone statue (we all like him better that way), Poseidon, Hermes, Martha & George (the snakes on Hermes caduceus).

Decided Family by greensgables - Rated G

Despite what most people might think, Grover is very aware of the fact that he doesn't have family at Camp Half Blood. Or he didn't, until Percy came around.

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

Spoilers For the end of The Lightning Thief! Proceed With Caution!!!!

a girl who sees it all by thesleepingsiren - Rated T

Annabeth is hyperactive and hyper-observant, and there’s something about the way Percy deflates when he thinks nobody’s watching that makes her wonder. She’s noticed things. The way he furrows his brows when praised or his wide eyes when anyone asks him to hang out or do anything besides spar. When he makes someone laugh, his eyes narrow like he’s trying to decide whether it’s with him or at him. The way his nose crinkles when he’s struggling through Homer and how he apologizes with a self-deprecating joke. How initially resistant he is to a hug or any comforting contact before he melts into it, whole body relaxing. Sometimes, when he’s lost in thought, he scratches at his collarbone—a scar she doesn’t know how he got. He has a lot of scars she doesn’t recognize, old ones. Or, Annabeth picks up on Percy's childhood, and makes sure he knows he's deserving of friendship. Set after the TLT quest but before SoM.

Styx by Soggy_Ice - Rated G

Summary

The river Styx reflected his face against its murky water. It smelled of beer, seven-layer dips, and sweat. It smelled of garbage. For a moment, Percy was Gabe’s apartment again, locked inside his temporary room for the summer while Gabe’s voice demanded for his mom’s salary, as if his mom were the one who spent every night gambling. His reflection showed a boy, knuckles white over the edge of the boat, glaring at him with the same dirty hair and glowing green eyes. He was angry. Percy didn’t realize that he was leaning over the edge until Annabeth pulled him back, raising an eyebrow. She gestured at Grover, shaken up, murmuring prayers under his breath as they made their way down the river. Right. Underworld. Meeting Hades. For the bolt. For the quest. For his mom. OR Percy and Styx bonding.

Across the Hall by Deerlie_03 - Rated T

The lives of the Jackson family pre-The Lightning Thief as told by a mortal neighbour who wants nothing but the best for the young woman who recently moved in across the hall, pregnant and without anybody in her life, and her unborn son

mundane by laruegard - Rated G

"I don't like not knowing how to do things." "Well, that's an easy fix. I'll teach you." or percy teaches annabeth how to play video games while theyre at the lotus hotel and casino.

anytime, kid. by polypanpercyjackson (ineedibuprofen) - Not Rated

“So…,” Drew drawls, motioning with her chin to Percy’s chipped blue nails. “What’s with the nails?” Percy sits across from her, glaring up at her warily, “Why do you care?”

little oracles by Arten - Rated G

I laughed. “You? An architect?” I don’t know why, but I found it funny. Just the idea of Annabeth trying to sit quietly and draw all day. Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention.” It wasn't until Annabeth watched Percy's face crumple that she realised that perhaps accusing someone of being the ruiner of all good things just like his father, right after he admitted the lengths to which his mother had gone to protect him– from marrying an awful man to literally dying to make sure he reached Camp– was the worst possible thing she could have ever said to anyone ever. Even if he had just laughed at her for thinking she could ever be an architect.

#veryace asks #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #annabeth chase #grover underwood #grover pjo #sally jackson #camp half blood #spoiler free #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

[nitefise-art]

Companion fic to my Zero comic, Part 1/?

--

If you asked the staff at Uva Academy, there was scarcely another person in Mesagoza more passionate about their job than Director Clavell himself.  The students are his greatest treasure, they will tell you; and of course, that much was obvious.  Nothing else would quite explain the “Glossary of modern slang” spreadsheet (of dubious accuracy) permanently on his desktop.  

Equally true, although they would all be far too modest to admit it, was that Director Clavell also treasured his staff.  Each was exceptional, in their own unique way, and, as such, indispensable to the academic institution.  Dendra, for example, was a remarkable athlete. Saguaro, “wholesome”, as the expression was used these days.  Jacq, brilliant, although you would be forgiven for thinking otherwise on first impressions alone.  Tyme, well…Tyme was… Tyme.  And Raifort, a woman with an encyclopaedic knowledge of history and a flair for the dramatics.

So Clavell thought, as the last-mentioned woman stood before him, peering at him over her glasses.

“Lovely to see you,” he had said.  “How can I be of assistance?”

“You might want to rethink that adjective,” she had countered, “after you hear what I’m about to say.”

Heavens, it was going to be a long day.

“I’ve had reports that students were seen entering the Zero Gate.”

Clavell’s eyebrows shot up.  Perhaps he had been wrong to judge her after all.

“The Zero Gate?!  Are you quite sure?”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve investigated myself, but you know what they say about smoke and fire.”

“No, quite right…”

Now Clavell felt judged, by the single hand resting on the history teacher’s hip, no less.  He didn’t dare look up at the raised eyebrow he knew was there, and busied himself with examining the surface of his table as he pondered the proposition. If it was true, how could they have gotten in?  The security on that door was first‑rate in the region, and he certainly hadn’t authorised any entries, not in the last five years at least.  The only other person with enough clearance was—

Clavell sprang up.  

If Raifort was surprised when Professor Turo’s icon appeared on the TV screen, she did not show it; or, perhaps, she was already one step ahead of him.  What she could not be privy to, however, was the growing apprehension plaguing the man next to her that perhaps he already knew who it was that was seen crossing the forbidden threshold.  Perhaps he knew from the moment he laid eyes on that strange Cyclizar.  The day Turo had rather abruptly requested an audience with the new student.  

Clavell shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the static image of his friend stared back at him.  A familiar face, although one that reminded him with each passing year that time spared no one—not even the man whose energy seemed like it could burn forever.

The ringing came to an abrupt stop.

“PROFESSOR TURO IS CURRENTLY UNAVAILABLE.”

Clavell tried to convince himself that it was probably nothing, that Turo was probably just busy (or on the loo, perhaps), but the pit of his stomach insisted otherwise.  

“…I apologise for being abrupt, Ms Raifort, but I must go.”  But not without forgetting his manners.  “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“You’re not planning on heading down there yourself, Director?”

There was no hiding from a woman wizened by human history.  And yet, what could he do?  Lead a group of teaching staff down into an active research zone?  Ask the League and wait up to three working days for a response while there were children loose in Area Zero?  No, if Turo had really achieved what he suspected, Clavell would have to see to this personally.

“Please advise Ms Tyme that the usual protocols apply in my absence.  I should not be gone more than 24 hours.”

It was going to be a very long day.

#pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon sv #director clavell #clavell #ms raifort #raifort #mention of #turo #professor turo #nitefise-art #my writing #zerofic #x