"Prom Gone Wrong" P. Hockstetter Oneshot

"Inseparable" Part Nine

“Ya sure you’re okay, Nicole? You look worse than when Patrick came out of the sewer.” Y/N winced, holding Nicole up as they walked their way back to the entrance of the sewers. Nicole huffed out a laugh and grunted when she almost tripped over something in the muddy water.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Pennywise didn’t hurt me,” Nicole paused, “Well, I guess he did.” Y/N gasped, looking over her friend’s body to make sure she wasn’t dying on her. 

“No, no! Not like that, Y/N.” Nicole shook her head and continued on, nodding her head to the bright exit. “I’m hurt, but not badly! It’s um, nothing I didn’t want.” She mumbled the last part too quickly for Y/N to hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Just, please go. I’ll talk to you later.” Nicole smiled at her friend and lightly nudged her. Y/N let out a sigh and returned the friendly gesture, wishing Nicole a farewell and good luck with whatever the hell was back there.

hiii what fics to do you have coming up for us to enjoy!

Hi babes! So far my WIPs are

Oneshots:

Carol Peletier/Reader: Angst/Fluff

**After loss, the reader distances herself from the rest of the group, doing her tasks quietly. When Carol notices, she tries to step in, and gets told off by the reader.

Jake Sully/Reader: Fluff/Tension

**Neytiri leaves Jake alone in the forest to hunt by himself as a test, and he comes across a poisonous fruit. Unknowing, he tries to eat it and gets stopped by Na’vi!Reader, who then educates him on the flora and language of the Na’vi.

Ongoing Stories:

Patrick Hockstetter/Reader: Enemies to Lovers

**Beverly’s older sister often gets bullied by the Bower’s Gang, more specifically by Patrick himself. They both have feelings for each other, but refuse to believe themselves. Patrick is tied into a bet to go out with the reader, and she goes ballistic when she finds out. She and Beverly move in with her aunt when summer ends, and haven’t seen anyone since. When Mike calls everyone 27 years later, how will she react to seeing Patrick again? What will she do when he’s gotten therapy and has gotten help for his solipsism?

George Foyet/Reader: Angst/Tension/Fluff

**The Boston Reaper is on a hunt for his next victim, and finds the perfect college girl in a bar. As he stalks her overtime, he develops an odd attraction to her, and does everything to make sure he’s the only one in her love life. Even if kidnapping is his last option.

Hii could you do a funny one between negan and Simon where they get drunk and they kiss by accident and both of them are just awkward about it but negan tells one of his jokes and they laugh it off

"Accidents Happen" n. smith Oneshot

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Summary (Fluff and Tension?): Simon and Negan get drunk after a long week of managing their communities, a tiny argument occurs, and ends with an accidental lip locking.

Warnings: Vulgar language, plenty uses of 'fuck', alcohol consumption, use of 'babe', teeny tiny spoiler but not really?

A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't get to this sooner 😭 I've had some stuff go down recently, so I've been busy with family matters and a bit of writers block for a couple of my works. But here we are, and I hope you like it! Flora doesn't exist, by the way, she's just a random name.

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It was four twenty-six in the morning, far too early for Negan and Simon to be awake. They both had a rough week trying to get Alexandria and the Hill-Top to comply with their demands, but of course, Rick likes to be rebellious.

He convinced the Hill-Top to stop giving them booze, for whatever reason that Negan didn’t care about, so the Saviors took all the alcohol from both communities as a ‘compromise.’ 

“Did he really?” Simon hiccuped from his chair in the make-shift conference room, pouring another glass of whiskey. Negan snorted and nodded his head.

“Yeah, kids got some fucking guts. I get why he’s Rick’s pride and joy, he’s pretty damn smart.” The two were talking about the countless times Carl outsmarted and talked back to Negan before there was a knock on the door. “The fuck do you want?”

“Uhm, Dr. Carson said he’s out of Aspirin. He needs someone to go on a run with him.” One of Negan’s wives slipped the door open a crack and gulped while staring into Negan’s cold eyes.

“So how about you send someone?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at his empty glass. When the woman left, he reached his hand over and grabbed Simon’s while he was drinking from it.

Simon stared at him while he chugged it down and tapped the glass on the table. Negan smiled at him and gestured towards the almost empty bottle with it.

“‘Nother hit, babe.” Simon only sighed and did what he told him to, just like always.

“I’m not your ‘babe.’” He screwed the cork back into the empty bottle and set it on the ground next to his chair, making sure not to knock it over.

Negan chuckled and lifted the glass to his chapped lips, locking eyes with Simon over the clear rim, “Right, and my name's not Negan.”

Simon scoffed and leaned back in his chair, remembering something he was supposed to tell Negan a while ago.

“Oh, you know Flora, at Hill-Top? Yeah, she uh,” He couldn’t help himself and let a laugh slip out while Negan set down the glass with a hard look in his eyes, “She thought I was gonna  fucking kill her the other day because she spilled paint on my shoes.”

“The blue paint?” Negan hummed and didn’t let his gaze leave Simon’s.

“Yeah.”

“The Hill-Top doesn’t have painters there.”

Moments of silence were shared between the men. They didn’t look away from each other, and Simon subconsciously covered the paint on his shoe with his other.

“What?”

“They don’t have painters there, Simon. They have farmers, and that’s all that those dickweeds spend their time doing. Those dumpster people, though? They’ve got painters. A lot of fucking painters. So many, in fact, that if you set foot in their community you’re bound to get some on you.”

Negan leaned forward until he was face to face with Simon, his whiskey breath flooding the man’s nostrils. “The same damn community that I told you to stop fucking seeing.”

Simon took in an angry breath, “I didn’t see them.”

“Are you lying to me, Simon?” 

“No.” His voice was just above a whisper, and another knock on the door ensued.

“Negan, we just wanted to confirm that you’re okay with us taking Dr. Carson to the hospital a couple miles away?” A man asked, looking between the two drunk men. Simon’s face was red, whether it be from anger, the alcohol, or something else, and so was Negan’s. 

“Get your tiny little ass outta here, and take the limp dick doctor with you!” Negan shouted and turned his head to look at the guy.

Spooked, the man nodded his head and quickly closed the door.

With the guy gone, Negan and Simon both turned their heads to look at each other, about to say an assumable insult at the other, when they realized they were a bit too close.

Their lips locked, and they both held still. Negan pulled away first, an unreadable expression on his face that Simon couldn’t pinpoint. He, on the other hand, had wide eyes and a light look of fear in them.

They didn’t say anything to each other, just staring at or though each other.

“This doesn’t make us gay, does it?”

“If it does, I’m totally putting you in a dress and making you one of my wives.” Negan raised his eyebrows playfully and grabbed his glass, downing the last bit of whiskey in it.

Simon snickered and shook his head, glad that his boss didn’t resent him. “How about we keep that between us?”

“Agreed. Accidents happen.” Negan groaned, stood up, and stretched. 

“Hittin’ the hay if you wanna come join me.” He winked and picked Lucille up from the table, slinging her over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m good. Don’t wanna steal you from the girls.” Simon stood up as well, grabbing the empty glass bottle. 

“Offer's always open.” Negan smirked and made his way towards the door, leaving his right-hand man in the conference room alone.

Simon hummed and listened to his footsteps weaken until he couldn’t hear Negan, set the bottle on the table, and put his hands in his pockets while staring at the door.

Was it an accident, though?

"The Wrong Kind of Jealousy" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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Summary: A break up leaves Y/N heartbroken and feeling awful, and Patrick doesn't like it. He's the only one who should make you feel like shit, and he's determined to prove he can be worse than your boyfriend.

Warnings: Vulgar language, break up, kind of non-con, choking, passing out, dacryphilia, classroom setting, almost fingering, use of "slut."

A/N: My bad guys, I got botox up my bladder so I haven't gotten to my Wips 😭 Here's my apology, please don't burn my house down.

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“Aiden, please! I didn’t know he’d ask me out, I thought he was just being friendly.” You sobbed, breath raspy and scattered. 

You had met a guy named Donnie in your science class while you were taking a test. He had asked for answers since he was new to the school and didn’t know much, and being the people pleaser you were, you gave them to him. 

He asked for your number after and said that he’d give you the answers to the upcoming math test as a thank you, and you didn’t think anything of it. 

You two started talking, and became friends over the few weeks you knew each other. Of course, nobody ever has kind intentions anymore, and he called you, asking you out on a date while you were making food in your kitchen. Since your boyfriend Aiden went to a different school, the two had never met. And he picked up the phone before you could.

“Does that really fucking matter?” He raised his voice at you and you flinched. He’d never gotten so upset over things like this, so it hurt to hear him yell.

You had a plethora of guy friends; many that he was also friends with. So why was he so angry now?

“You never thought to tell him about me? About us?” Aiden threw his hands on his head and laughed. He was pissed.

“I didn’t think about it, it seemed innocent!” You couldn’t recall the last time you had to defend yourself like this to someone over anything because you were an honest person.

He shook his head and ran his hands down his face, inhaling deeply. “I should’ve known you were gonna cheat on me. Nobody’s that perfect.” 

“Aiden-”

“You’re a slut, Y/N. I should’ve fucking known. We’re done.” He growled, grabbing his jacket off of the counter and aiming towards the door.

“Aiden, please wait.” Tears fell down your face as you tried to reason with him. You loved Aiden, and you didn’t want to see him go. 

“I don’t wanna fucking see you again.” Aiden slammed the door behind him, leaving you to cry in your kitchen.

–

Two days passed, and you were miserable. You cut it off with Donnie, and you hadn’t seen or heard from Aiden since that night. It was lunch and you were at school, eating your meal in an empty classroom, sitting on one of the desks. You’d usually eat with Aiden and talk about anything, but now it was quiet and lonely. 

Holding your sandwich up to your mouth, you were about to take a bite when the door opened.

It was Patrick Hockstetter. The bane of your very existence.

He was such an asshole, and you hated him. He’d grope you, call you names, sometimes even hurt you if you two were alone. You had brought it up to Aiden a couple of times, but he’d always dismiss it, saying he did it to everybody and that you weren’t special.

You never had sex with Aiden, and he never saw you naked, so he also never saw any of the marks Patrick would leave on you. Burn scars from lighters and cigarettes, bruises, cuts, the initials he carved under your belly button. The hickeys.

You never thought it counted as cheating since you never reciprocated anything Patrick would do, and you never told Aiden about it in fear that he’d break up with you for it. But you knew deep, deep down, that you were cheating.

Because a sick, sick, part of you liked it.

Aiden was never rough with you when making out. He treated you like fine China, which you were thankful for. But he never went further, not like Patrick would.

Aiden would kiss you softly, never pressing too hard on your lips. Patrick would make you choke on his tongue and bite your lips, making you bleed every time. 

You hated him, and everything he did. But sometimes you’d look at your scars and remember how awful it felt, and you’d get hot and red in the face.

“Figured your cunt would be in here.” Grinning, he slipped through the crack in the door and closed it, locking it behind him. You shivered, knowing that you weren’t going to leave the classroom without some kind of wound. 

“What do you want?” You croaked out, voice hoarse from crying. You put the sandwich back in your lunch bag and crossed your arms over your chest, regretting the tight white shirt and pastel pink skirt you wore today. 

Patrick snickered at your poor attempt to cover yourself and he turned the lights off, making the only light in the room be from the cracks in the blinds that covered the windows. 

“What do you think I want?” It was only then that you noticed the blood from his nose, and the blood on his hands. Usually you’d never think anything of it, but you were somewhat worried.

Patrick never liked Aiden. He hated how much attention Aiden took from you, and he made sure you knew. He hated how upset you’d get when you remembered a date you two would have to go on, especially right after he’d make you suck him off.

You’d be a complete mess, mascara running down your face, lip gloss smudged, hair sticking up everywhere, drool on your chin, and your clothes would be ruined.

He liked you better when you looked that way and begged him to stop. He made sure to take a picture once, and when he couldn’t see you, he’d jerk off to it.

Patrick loved when you looked ruined, but you always wanted to look put together for Aiden.

“Patrick, what’s on your hands?” You asked shakily, eyes trained to his blood soaked fingers. 

Patrick tutted and started a slow stride to the desk you were on. “You know, Aiden was never a good choice for ya’, toots.”

You crossed your left leg over your right and your skirt rode up your thighs, and Patrick licked his lips.

“I mean, he always controlled what you did. You couldn’t go anywhere without him. And you surely wouldn’t be wearing that skirt if you two were still together.” He stopped in front of you, and put his right hand on your left knee, and his other on your calf.

He uncrossed your legs and stepped between them, removing his hands and placing them on the desk.

Patrick’s eyes never strayed from yours, and you were shaking. 

“What did you do?” You caught your breath and questioned him, fear evident all over your face.

“You never cried for me as much as you did a couple nights ago for him.” Patrick’s face held no emotion, and you had no idea what was happening inside his mind.

It filled you with dread.

“Patrick, please.” His right hand moved from the desk and he placed it up your left thigh, moving it under your skirt. His left hand went around your throat, and his fingers placed themselves skillfully against the sides of your neck.

He squeezed, hard, and slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear, pulling them back and snapping the elastic back onto your skin.

You yelped, and it took away most of your oxygen. Patrick’s fingers teased down your leg and to the back of your knee, leaving a trail of blood as it went.

You didn’t ask him, but you knew it was Aiden’s. You didn’t want to know what happened to him.

You were hyperventilating now, taking in any air that you could. Patrick would lessen his grip every now and then so you wouldn’t pass out, but then he’d tighten it again. The process repeated until you were wailing, and your hands were clawing at his.

His right hand was resting on your thigh again, and would etch up closer to your groin whenever he’d let go a bit. You were full on sobbing, and you looked perfect to him.

Mascara down your face, red marks on your neck that would surely leave a perfect blue and purple handprint later. You were trembling underneath his touch, and he loved it. 

Aiden could never make you cry like he could, and Patrick carried that pride with him. 

You tried to beg him to stop, but your words were broken and you could barely keep yourself conscious. Black spots dotted your vision, and you kept thrashing against him. 

He had never gone so far when choking you, and he’d usually leave you with some air. But he didn’t now, no matter what you did.

Patrick’s fingers climbed up into your underwear, and he smirked when he saw the fear in your wet, drowning eyes. Two fingers touched your entrance, and he dragged them up and down, pinching at your clit.

You’d never been more terrified as to what Patrick was going to do next, but you never found out. He squeezed your throat much harder, completely blocking your windpipe from getting any form of oxygen. 

The black spots took control of your vision, and you went limp in his hands. Your legs stopped kicking, your hands fell to your sides. Your head lolled back, and your face relaxed. 

Patrick hummed and let go of your neck, letting you fall back on the desk. He made sure your pulse was still beating, and his fingers went into your entrance with no more resistance. 

Aiden could never make you feel anything like he could.

Hey y'all!

I'm so sorry that I've been inactive! I've had so much school recently that I've only been able to get to the shorter fanfictions! If you requested something a little longer, just know that it's on it's way and in progress. I promise that I will get to them and that I am trying to make them the best possible!

Au revoir!

"Boo Boos" n. smith Oneshot

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“I want you to watch her for a good, couple of hours?” Negan held a squirming toddler in his arms as he talked to Simon about her. The said other man watched her as she whined and held on tighter to her father, and debated if it was worth it to babysit the clingy girl.

“Right, right. Just watch her is all? I don’t have to like, change her or anything?” Simon questioned, grimacing when he saw the girl bite down onto Negan’s shoulder. 

“Fuck! Okay, down you go!” Negan shouted, setting her down onto the floor. She giggled and started pulling at a string on his pant leg. Negan sighed in defeat and ruffled her hair, answering Simon’s question, “She’s potty trained, you dumb fuck. And yes, that’s all.”

Simon hummed and nodded his head. He was without a doubt a little nervous, who wouldn’t be? Taking care of The Big Man™’s girl was a huge deal, and even one fuck-up could result in getting fucked-up. 

Especially since she was such a little hassle. She’d always run away from her father whenever he didn’t keep a close enough eye on her, and she’d hide from him. She even talked to Daryl through the cell door one time, which was something Negan was not happy with.

“Hey, Negan? Everything’s ready for Alexandria.” Gavin walked past the two with a notebook in his hands, lifting it up and shaking it.

“M’kay.” Negan responded and looked down at the little girl who was eating a piece of string. “Stop that, honey. That’s not good for you.”

He sighed and looked back to Simon, who looked a bit fearful. Negan snorted and pulled his daughter off of him and held her out for the other man to take.

Simon held out his arms and awkwardly took her into them. She whined and turned herself around to stare at her father, who put a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Bye, honey. I’ll see you soon,” He shot a pointed look to his friend, “Take care of her.”

Simon nodded and watched Negan leave with the rest of the saviors and looked back to his daughter, who was emotionlessly staring at him.

“Your hair looks funny.”

–

“Kid? Where did you go?” Simon called out, lifting up a cardboard box on the ground to see what was under it.

It took two hours and thirteen minutes to lose Negan’s daughter, and now he had to find her before whenever he came back. Obviously it was a game to her, but since Simon didn’t know the exact time his boss was coming back, he was panicking.

He set down the box when he heard soft laughing come from down the hallway he was in, and then realized what she was doing. “Oh, fuck.”

Simon jogged down the corridor until he reached where Daryl’s cell was, and he saw her sitting with her back against the door.

“My daddy has the key, not me.” She smiled, playing with the skirt of her dress. The chair that was supposed to have a guard in it was empty, and he assumed that that was why she ran away to talk to Daryl. He sighed in relief, and was about to walk over to her and pick her up when she looked at him and gasped. 

“Bye, Mr. Daryl!” She shouted and stood up, running down the hallway away from Simon.

“Shit!” Simon groaned, following behind her. She giggled and took a turn to the right, and then she tripped over her own feet.

“Ow!” She cried out, holding her now scraped knee. Tears poured out of her eyes and Simon crouched down next to her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, honey. Can I look at it?” He grabbed her leg softly and scanned it over to see how bad the injury was. She sniffled and hiccuped, her cheeks wet with hurt. It overall didn’t look bad enough to see Dr. Carson, but it did need to be wrapped. 

“Come here.” Simon picked her up and rubbed her back while she cried into his shoulder, and he winced when she wiped her nose on his shirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Simon sat her on the sink counter in his room and opened one of his cabinets, grabbing a first-aid kit and setting it down next to her. He grabbed a rag as well, and turned on the sink to put it under the water. Negan’s daughter wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve and watched him.

“I’m gonna wipe the blood away, and it’s gonna hurt a bit. M’kay, honey?” He told her, letting her brace herself for the pain. She nodded and bit her lip, and Simon nodded in return and placed the wet cloth on her knee.

“It stings!” She complained and tried to pull her knee away from him, only for him to grab it back.

“I know, I know. But I need to clean it to put a bandaid on it.” Simon sighed, “Look, I’m done.”

She looked at her knee and pouted, and Simon opened the kit next to her. He looked through it and found a box of bandages, and he grabbed one, peeling away the paper on it and placing it on her knee. 

“Look, we’re all done!” He smiled at her and reached his hand up to pinch her cheek. She giggled and kicked her legs back and forth.

Simon grabbed her and set her down off the counter and held her hand, “Do you want a popsicle? I heard Danny from the work stations makes some damn good cherry ones.”

“Daddy says they have liquor in them.”

“Oh.”

"on the run" t. todoroki mha smau

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Summary: You and Touya get chased by U.A kids 😨

Warnings: Vulgar language, mentioned "plug"

A/N: your pookies back and in business

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Hey, you should deffo do a BEN one. So like a one-shot with Y/N and BEN playing video games but he’s like glitching the game so she looses, and he’s super smug about it.

-your favorite ever ♥️

Ohhhh, for sure babes. I'll make it the best you've ever read.

It'll take a hot minute, tho. School and all that jizzy jazz. ❤️

"Inseparable" Part Eight

“What the actual fuck, Penny!” Nicole screamed, throwing her arms into the air. A tall, somber clown was staring at the floor, shifting on Its feet from time to time. “You’ve done a lot of shit that I’ve dismissed, but this is something I won’t!”

Y/N sat on a dirty wooden crate, watching her best friend shout at It. Nicole put her hands on her face and turned around, continuing to degrade It. Pennywise slightly looked up and made eye contact with Y/N, glaring at her with It’s blue eyes. She shivered and looked away, gasping when she heard a jingle of bells and seeing he was gone. Nicole groaned loudly and kicked one of the rocks on the floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me!”

"Inseparable" Part Seven

What the actual fuck. Y/N was in the sewers again, except instead of sewer water she stood in it was blood. Mixed with torn and chewed limbs. Human limbs. 

She put her left hand over her mouth and gagged, tears pricking her eyes. The limbs were a complete variety. Rotted, fresh, small, large, bitten and untouched. It reeked sweetly, the dead and decomposed did not smell nice. It was like a slaughterhouse. Scratch that, it was a slaughterhouse.

Bloodied hand prints littered top and bottom of the sewer walls, child and adult, along with arrows pointing one way in between them. The only way was forward. 

Y/N felt something move in her right hand, and she looked down to see a flashlight appear in it. She looked back up when she heard a faint “Penny! What the fuck!” and the sewer was empty and back to normal. All that remained was the arrows pointing forward, and forward she went. 

The water sloshed grossly as she moved on, the squeaking of rats made her flinch whenever she’d accidentally point her flashlight at them. Sighing, she didn’t feel like she was going anywhere. Every arrow was the same, and she only went forward. It was all the same.

She cursed when she pointed the light ahead and came face to bars blocking her way. She grabbed them and shook them, but they didn’t budge at all. She was going to turn back until she felt something grab her foot and pull her down into the trashy water. She screamed and dropped the flashlight as she went, and thrashed her leg to get whatever was grabbing her off.

Y/N couldn’t see anything, so all she could do was kick and hope she would get let go of. After hearing a grunt of whatever grabbed her, her foot was released. She sighed with relief and moved her hand up to move her wet hair out of her face, but then stopped when she remembered that she’d lost the flashlight. 

She let out an angry shriek and thumped her hands down into the water, not knowing where to go from there. She stood up carefully and fixed her hair before she saw it. The red balloon.

It had a bright glowing light in the middle of it, and it moved swiftly past her as she watched it. She let out a confused ‘what?’ when she saw that the bars were gone, and she quickly started to follow the balloon. She didn’t have all that much trust in it, but she didn’t want to go back and get grabbed by whatever the hell was behind her.

She stopped when the balloon did and she watched it grow bigger. All she could do was stare, even though her instincts were telling her to cover her ears. It popped, loudly, and she winced, and then gasped. 

The sewer tunnel had stopped with a ladder leading down, and in front of her was a bright, beautiful circus. She heard giggles and music, and smelled popcorn and sweets. Y/N quickly went down the ladder to explore, and that’s when it all went to shit. When she turned around, the music turned demonic.

The giggles stopped, and it reeked of rot once again; it looked abandoned. She stepped forward and stopped immediately when she heard what resembled a ‘squelch’, and looked down to see a half eaten rat.

She gagged like she did earlier and stepped in front of it, paying more attention to where she was placing her feet. When she reached the circus tent, a huge plank of old wood fell right in front of her, and a single flier was stapled to it. 

“Pennywise the Dancing Clown?” Y/N muttered, taking the flier and folding it to put it in her back pocket, which was weird because her shorts didn’t have pockets.

A soft jingle of bells made her look over to a half closed gate, a blood hand print on the handle. She watched her step as she went to explore it, and yelped out in surprise when she saw someone come out.

“Nicole!” She shrilled, running over to the red head and hugging her tightly. 

“Ow! Ow!” Nicole cried and pulled Y/N off of her, holding her shoulders with a confused look on her face, “What the hell are you doing down here?”

“I-” Y/N paused and looked down, “You know, I don’t actually know.”

“Right.” Nicole said, taking her hands off of her friend. Nicole was very..rugged looking. Her shoulder-length hair was an absolute mess and filled with grime, blood, and knots. Her mascara was running down her face, her lipstick smudged all over.

Her clothes were ripped from what looked like claws, and she had a huge bite mark on her left shoulder. It wasn’t too deep, but it definitely drew blood.

“Oh my God, are you okay? You look like shit.” Y/N told her, concern washed all over her face. Nicole let out a ‘huh’ and looked down at herself and started to nervously laugh a bit.

“Who me? I’m perfect, I’m great. Feeling fresh as a daisy.” She tried to reassure the other girl, a forced smile on her face. Y/N only gave her a deadpanned look before she started shouting at her about how she’s hurt and needs to be looked at by a doctor.

“I’m fine, Y/N!! Jeez, I’m not gonna die or anything. Let’s just focus on figuring out why you’re here.” Nicole raised her arms like she was getting interrogated by the police and looked around the empty circus. Y/N only nodded her head, everything that happened here had been such a shock.

She was very worried about Nicole, though. She looked like she’d been through the shredder. She had a pink flush on her cheeks since Y/N found her, and also a slight limp. Whatever had grabbed Y/N earlier must have gotten to her as well, and it must have ruffed her up quite a lot. 

They were walking around the sorrowed circus when another jingle of bells caught both of their attentions. It came from the wizened, nauseating circus tent in the middle of the huge sewer room.

Nicole and Y/N looked at each other, and Nicole smiled nervously at her before running towards that direction.

“Nicole! Wait up!” Y/N shouted after her, trying to make her way around all the trash that covered the ground floors. She watched Nicole dance through it all like she’d done it before, and it made Y/N think about if she had been down here before.

She struggled a bit and then gave up, sighing heavily as she looked around from where she was stuck. She tried to pull her feet out from the sticky spots they were in, and then she flinched when she heard Nicole’s roaring voice echo throughout the sewers.