#but i really just wanted to add to the thought of tara really loving a tattooed partner
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Lovely Tattoos (Drabble)
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Tattooed!Reader (GN)
Summary: Tara loves your tattoos and all that comes with them.
Warrnings: None i think
Author's Note: Damn it feels like a lifetime since I've posted a fic, but heres a little drabble if you can even call it that. I promise I'm writing so hopefully you'll see some longer fics coming soon. October just kicked my ass (none of you told me turning 21 was gonna hit me so hard) and I'm just now finishing my recovery (with a big fuck you to my sciatic nerve and broken foot 🖕). There is a specific tattoo mentioned, just let me have a litte self indulgence k? 🩵
Word Count: 316 (she's tiny)
___________
Tara loves your tattoos, from the bigger ones on your back to the many patchwork tattoos across your arms and thighs. She loves them, they’re a part of you, and it’s you that she loves the most.
She loves the way you’ll stay in bed a few hours longer if she traces the ones on your back. She loves that you both calm down when she traces the Miles Morales spider on your inner wrist.
She loves that you’ve been packing markers in your bag for her and Mindy to color them in during any classes that didn’t solely focus on film making. She loves how excited you get when you see a child is interested in some of the more colorful ones. Always willing to take the time to let them inspect the vibrant art.
She loves, though this one she’s a little more hesitant to admit, but she loves the matching tattoo you have with Chad. She rolls her eyes but she loves when the pair of you make it your mission to get the tattoos in every photo you take together.
She loves the many tattoos that didn’t have any meaning to them until you had the experience of getting them. Remembering the time you drunkenly let Anika tattoo a doodle of Tara’s on the side of your rib. She loved when Sam got her first tattoo, you not only packed a bag for her during the tattoo with snacks but you also made a little care package for after.
She loves that when she got her own tattoo on her wrist, you held her other hand throughout the process. She loves that you’ve started a new routine of rubbing sunscreen on her wrist to protect it. She loves how excited you get when she says you should get a matching tattoo with her.
She loves you, your tattoos and everything that entails.
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#jenna ortega#the ending is meh#but i really just wanted to add to the thought of tara really loving a tattooed partner#you can't tell me she wouldn't find comfort in tracing tattoos dude#theres some things i just added right before posting this so if some is off well...#fics by the gay#it feels like every time I post something I wanna just say idk man#and send it
372 notes
·
View notes
Note
hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.
but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.
maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)
feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.
Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰
Technical Difficulties
Sylus x Reader 🩸
Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.
Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!
Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh
| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?
Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?
You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.
Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:
Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx
Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.
Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:
Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!
Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.
Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?
“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.
“Are you free tomorrow?”
Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”
Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”
“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”
The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.
“Mmhmm.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Sylus.”
You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.
“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.
“Ok,” he says softly.
There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??
You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.
…
You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.
You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.
Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.
Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.
Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.
At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.
You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”
“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.
“How did you even get in here?”
He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.
Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”
“Magicking, yeah.”
You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.
“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”
Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.
“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”
“Snob.”
“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”
You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.
Nero’s yelling at me
Wants to talk to U
Can U pick up? Pls?
It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”
He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.
Nothing happens.
Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.
With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.
“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.
“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”
“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”
“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”
“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”
“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”
“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.
Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”
Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.
You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.
Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.
The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.
“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.
“That’s Skye!” Tara.
Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.
You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.
With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.
Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.
He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.
Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”
“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”
His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”
“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.
Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”
It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.
Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.
It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”
“You’re right.”
“…Good.”
Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.
“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”
There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”
Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.
You chuckle to yourself.
And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.
#🖋rach is actually writing#sylus x reader#sylus#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#qin che#sylus x mc#sylus x you#lads x reader#lads#lnds#l&ds
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
A New Face Pt.3
pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
summary: You and Tara finally went out on a date and feelings are revealed.
word count: 2453
Pt.1 | Pt.2
a/n: Hey all, I hope ya'll enjoyed this last part for this one-shot. I tried putting in more details so lmk your thoughts. I also made Sam a little laid back for this part since I honestly didn't know how to make her intimidating without ruining it lol. Anyways, I'm always open to feedback!! Thanks for all the love and support! (p.s. i got motivation for the flower scene from tasm where peter gave gwen her flowers hehehe so just imagine that because i still have no idea how to add a collage of pictures here)
Tara was walking back and forth the apartment while waiting for you to pick her up. She had suggested on going to yours instead but you insisted on picking her up for some reason. Sam was just observing her sister roaming around the living room, amused by her antics. She was picking her fingernails and fixing her hair every 15 seconds. It was 3.45 p.m and you were supposed to be here at least 15 minutes ago. Her mind was going through a ridiculous amount of scenarios as fast as the speed of light at this point. Did you suddenly decide to ditch her or realised that she wasn’t good enough for you?
“Tara, relax. You’re freaking out so much- I can see your brain working overtime,” Sam simply stated, laying on the couch while rewatching Modern Family for the fifth time. Just as Tara wanted to give a snarky remark, she heard the doorbell rang. If she was wearing a heart rate monitor, she was sure it would give her a warning about her sudden heightened heart rate, assuming she was getting a heart attack. She looked at herself once again and fixed her hair after the 55th time before opening the door.
There you were. Looking all cute and flustered while holding a bouquet of flowers and a posy on one hand while balancing two motorcycle helmets on the other. While she appreciated and blushed and the gesture, she can’t seem the ignore the fact that the bouquet and posy is a little… lopsided.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. I went to buy this for you but it’s a little harder when you’re riding while holding it, which explains the snapped stem for one of them…Oh! And I bought a small one for Sam, if she doesn’t mind, of course.” You explained with a little blush from the awkwardness. “How embarrassing, this is your first date and you’ve already messed up. Nice one, Y/N.” You thought, mentally slapping yourself for forgetting that it’s nearly impossible to hold a bouquet of flowers while riding and not mess it up. While you were having your own crisis, Tara was in her own head too.
“Seriously? Is there even a flaw flowing in their bones? ” Tara pondered internally while struggling to put out actual words, holding onto both the bouquet and posy, when Sam came to rescue after hearing the painfully awkward one-sided conversation.
“Wow, nice job, Y/N. A liiitttle crushed, but I like the effort. You’re own my good side, for now. Just make sure you bring her home by 9..or I’ll hunt you down.” Sam stated sarcastically, enjoying how you squirmed after her statement. She’ll never tell you this, but she appreciated the gesture and the thought of buying her a small bouquet. The few people Tara had tried dating has never thought of that, so she really meant it when she said you’d “earned a point”. She was impressed surprisingly, and it was hard to impress THE Sam Carpenter.
“Y-Yes ma’am” You replied with faux confidence, even though both the sisters could tell you were intimidated, rightfully so. Tara rolled her eyes at her sister’s statement and dragged you out of the apartment, after placing her flowers nicely by the table beside the entrance, of course.
“I’m sorry about Sam, she can be a bit.. Much.”
“Don’t worry about it, I have to admit I almost peed my pants though.” You joked, trying to ease the tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Your attempt was successful when Tara giggled effortlessly, while staring at you with those big doe eyes.
-
The engine roared beneath them, vibrating through Tara’s body as she clung to Y/N’s back. The cool evening air brushed against her face, the city lights streaking by in a blur. The smell of gasoline and fresh rain mixed with the earthy scent of Y/N’s jacket, and Tara could feel her pulse racing in time with the bike’s engine.
Tara knew she would be your ‘backpack’ as you informed her about riding your bike for the date a few days prior. That doesn’t mean she didn’t freak out when you went up a needle on your speedometer though. She was hugging you so tightly around your waist, it could almost suffocate you. You said you didn’t mind it though, and Tara took every opportunity to hug you tighter, and shamelessly run her hands from your back to your shoulders, caressing and admiring the flexed muscles from handling the two-wheeled vehicle every chance she had, enjoying your warmth that contrasted with the chilly weather.
Her heart was pounding as she felt the warmth of Y/N's back against her chest, the gentle hum of the motorcycle beneath them. She noticed how her grip tightened instinctively, wanting to hold on to something solid as her thoughts swirled in a mess. “Is this real? Is this really happening?"
After finding a parking spot near the theaters, you helped Tara with getting off your bike seeing as she couldn’t even reach the floor if she wanted to. You assisted with taking her helmet off and fixing her hair, pushing her messy bangs away and tucking it behind her ears absenmindedly without her needing to ask for help. Tara wanted to take you right then and there. “Who cares if it’s public indecency? Both of us are hot.” Tara thought. She had never met a more thoughtful and respectful person before she laid her eyes on you; You really knew how to please a girl.
-
You proceeded to lead her to the entrance of the theatre, which was filled with people that was keen on watching the premier of The Terrifier 3. Tara was buzzing with excitement, practically hopping up and down and effortlessly having a conversation with you after easing her nerves, while waiting on your turns to get some snacks and get seated.
The film was amazing. It was almost concerning with how Tara didn’t even bat an eyelid during the more gory scenes, but you were glad she enjoyed it. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back after successfully making her glee and rambling about the film afterwards. You both decided to walk to the restaurant you were having dinner at, since it was only a few blocks away. You couldn’t ignore the fact that both your and Tara’s hands kept brushing against each other. You finally made the courage to hold her hands while she was still rambling about the show, your heart leaped when she interlocked your fingers together and continued talking, not commenting on the sudden act of affection.
Meanwhile, Tara was so damn glad you made the move first because she was overthinking too much to make the first move. She tried to act as nonchalant as possible, making it seem like your gesture didn’t really affect her even though she had her heart in her mouth. When you both arrived at the restaurant, you had to wait for a while to be assigned a table. She finally made the courage to let go of your hands and to hold onto your ridiculously toned biceps, running her hands up and down your arm. She was tracing her fingers on the outline of your tattoo, making you shiver.
“You never told me this, but what’s the meaning behind your tattoo? I mean- It’s fine if it’s personal and you don’t wanna talk about it, though!” Tara stated with a slight panic in her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable and share something so intimate to you. You found it cute that she was trying to be mindful and considerate.
Tara was tracing your tattoo, which was full of different designs, mainly two dragons being intertwined and a date underneath it. “It’s fine- I don’t mind, really. It symbolizes the Chinese zodiac calendar. My mum and dad was born in the year of the dragon. I initially didn’t think of having a tattoo, but I considered it to honor them. They died a few years ago from a car crash, which explains the date beneath it.” You explained your tattoo in detail, including all the different strokes and lines on your hands.
Tara wanted to cradle your head and hold you tightly, hiding you away from society after hearing that your parents are gone. It must’ve been tough handling life alone in your twenties. “At least I had Sam,” Tara thought. She gave you her condolences and you took her hand and kissed it, specifically where her scar is, before shrugging it off with a smile, not wanting to ruin the mood of the date.
-
Dinner went by quickly, with Tara having a glass of wine (not you though, you knew you had the responsibility to send her home and you didn’t want Sam to kill you either) and getting to know each other more. Tara’s indication of having too much to drink is that she often hiccups, and that’s when you knew you had to pay the bill and send her home. On your way back to your bike, you and Tara were giggling and she kept trying to squeeze your face cheeks together, with your hand swatting her away. You decided to make a pitstop at a small bodega and buy a bottled water for Tara, attempting to sober her up, knowing she can’t ride on the bike being that drunk. You slowed your pace, allowing Tara to recover while interlocking your hands. She was effortlessly flirting with you, probably from the liquid courage she was sobering up from.
You finally reached your bike, with having an intention of helping Tara putting on her helmet when she hugged you, her arms wrapping around your neck and leaning her chin against your chest, staring at you. “I really, really like you y’know. Like, like-like you.” She stated, staring at you with her brown doe eyes that resembled a deer.
Tara’s heart skipped again, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from a sudden realization—this was different. She hadn’t felt this kind of pull in a long time. And maybe—maybe—she wasn’t just hoping Y/N would kiss her. Maybe she was ready for it. And when the moment came, she wasn’t going to hold back. You softly chuckled, your cheeks tinting slightly at her sudden confession. “I’m glad you like me Tara. I really, really like you too,” you reciprocated and hugged her waist, embracing the intimate moment. Both of you leaned in, nose touching each other before you decided to lean away; Making Tara whine and roll her eyes.
You really wanted to kiss her, but you didn’t want it to be in a random street where some creeps can be watching you both kiss for their own entertainment. Tara huffed in frustration and wore her (your) helmet, stubbornly trying to get on the bike without needing you assistance (she needed it, she was practically falling off that damn bike if it wasn’t for you). You softly chuckled at her act before wearing yours and turned on the bike, the engine growling. Throughout the ride, you knew Tara was still upset at you since she held her hands on your shoulders instead of your waist.
After reaching her block, you followed her up to her apartment, making sure that she’s safe. Tara was being grumpy, having her arms crossed which prevented you to hold her hand. After reaching her apartment, she went to open the door, trying to enter before you had to chance to talk to her. “Tara- wait, give me a mi-“
“I don’t get you, Y/N. First you bring me out to this date, held my hands and now you don’t want to kiss me? Are you serious-“ Tara’s blabber was disrupted when you grabbed her by her cheeks and leaned in for a kiss, lips colliding.
Tara melted in your hands like putty and wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you in and craning your neck, trapping you in her spell. You could taste her cherry lip gloss, secretly hoping that you get to kiss her more often to get accustomed to the taste. She lets out little sighs in between the kisses to take a breath, before pulling you in again for more. You bit her lip which made her gasp, having the opportunity to slip your tongue in, making her moan and kiss you fiercely and fight with you tongue to tongue.
You pulled away gently, making her whine at the sudden end of the passionate makeup. You gave her tiny pecks and chaste kisses which made her giggle before you pulled away. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Tara. I just wanted it to be private, I can’t let the creeps down the street see me kissing the girl I like,” You confessed, blushing heavily now that Tara’s attention is all on you.
“Aw, you sap. I don’t mind letting them watch, at least they know you’re all mine now.” You gave another kiss, when the door opened abruptly.
“Well, well, well, look who’s grinning like a cat that got the cream.” Sam smirks, glancing between Tara and Y/N, making both blush out of embarrassment.
“So, did you two finally make it official, or am I gonna need to take out the old shower and have a little chit chat with Y/N? I know you have no problem with public declaration of ownership.” She gives Tara a teasing look, knowing full well that her sister’s not shy when it comes to flirting. “Shut up, Sam. I’m fine.” She rolls her eyes but it’s clear that she’s still caught up in the moment.
Sam shrugs dramatically, leaning closer to Y/N, lowering her voice with mock seriousness.
“You better keep your hands to yourself, or I will find out where you live, and I’ll have a serious talk with you. That’s your warning.” She threatens, almost breaking character but keeping it cool.
Y/N, clearly caught off guard but managing a nervous chuckle, nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. I’ll take good care of her, I swear.” They look at Tara, a little embarrassed, but there’s warmth in their eyes. They’re obviously not intimidated, but they know enough to respect Sam’s warning.
“Good answer, Y/N. Good answer.” She flashes a grin, pretending to be serious before stepping back from the door. ”And for the record, I’m definitely expecting a full play-by-play tomorrow, Tara. I’ve got all kinds of questions…”
Tara shakes her head, but there’s no hiding the smile on her face now. She turns back to Y/N, giving them a peck before slipping back inside her apartment with a soft click.
208 notes
·
View notes
Note
As a fellow galemancer i had to share that when your doing the spell scene with gale, when the narrator says the weave is making your one, i couldnt help but notice that he slowly blinks at you like a cat, since tara is technically part cat im sure they blink slow for affection so im not sure but Gale as a cat person slow blinking at you feels so cute, just some food for thought adore you blog as well have a great day
OP, you are absolutely brilliant. However, it seems somehow tumblr autocorrected ‘tressym’ to ‘cat’ in your ask, because as Gale and Tara would both insist, she is definitely NOT a cat, absolutely not, not even a smidge, she’s proudly 100% tressym and we would never want to insult her or get on her bad side by insinuating otherwise! Obviously that was a mistake on tumblrs end! nothing more!!
(…okay OP I think we are in the clear, that should smooth things over with Tara, just wanted to cover all our bases there 😂)
You raise a really interesting point—Gale, having been partially raised by a tressym, could absolutely have picked up a few tressym qualities and mannerisms! So let’s talk about that:
slightly 18+ / suggestive under the cut!
First off, to your point, Gale does the tressym slow blink to show affection. As if Gale’s soft cow eyes weren’t appealing enough, those slow, soft, affectionate blinks?? How could you resist:
Gale loves to touch you, hold your hand, have his hands on you, and of course massage you…except that his massages, while lovely, seem to be less ‘ease your muscle stress by applying firm pressure’ and more ‘making biscuits on your back.’ When you ask where he learned his technique, he says he’s self-taught and proudly adds ‘Tara approves of my form.’ (Doesn’t matter, you love it regardless.)
Gale longingly mentions his tower’s ‘crackling hearth’ several times throughout the game, and just like Tara, it’s one of his favorite places to be—ESPECIALLY if he’s curled up next to it with you. Now, whether you’re on his lap or he’s on yours? That’s entirely up to you. Though Tara might object if her favorite spot—Gale’s lap—is too frequently occupied >:(
Gale occasionally adds in a soft, loving head bump during a makeout session—gently, of course! (This one is canon IMHO as he does this during his ‘Grateful’ kiss variant seen here)
Speaking of making out, when Gale’s engine really gets revved he’ll move from those yearning moans to a low, steady rumble of desire from deep in his chest. A purr of arousal if you will—but one that can turn into a growl as he hungrily claws at your clothes, if your laces/buttons are not cooperating with his need for immediate removal.
It’s canon that Gale hates vegetables, full stop. After all, what self-respecting tressym craves broccoli? He’d much prefer to share a meal of quipperfish, pigeon, or beholder meat with Tara. A proper carnivorous meal, and preferably one that comes with some sort of cream-based delicacy for dessert. Also…are those peas on his plate? Carrots?! Instantly incinerated.
And finally, Tressyms are fastidious about their cleanliness—Tara herself can be seen diligently cleaning her paws during the epilogue—so of course Gale follows suit. He’s very vocal about being disgusted by the bloodbath you can get while in the mindflayer colony in Act 2, and he loathes being in the sewers of Baldur’s Gate. Gale prefers to be clean and preened at all times, not only for his own sense of pride, but also so he can be as presentable as possible for you. (As he himself put it, ‘A gentleman is only as handsome as his least-groomed locus.’). Now when it comes to your cleanliness, though, Gale would never criticize you for your, ah…sweaty, glistening muscles after a fight, OR your particular musk arising from said sweatiness and dirt. In fact he rather likes it, because the only thing better than being clean is the process of getting clean, which he will happily help you with! Perhaps a long, hot, luxurious bath, your naked bodies intertwined as he runs his hands and mouth a bar of soap over every inch of you. Or, perhaps, if bathwater is not available, he could go full tressym and simply lick you clean himself clean you up in a different manner! Who knows?? The possibilities are endless, and he does have a practiced tongue. 😉
— — —
Thank you again for this lovely ask OP! I hope I painted an accurate picture of just how similar our beloved Gale is to a cat TRESSYM !!
As always if anyone has any additional points, please feel free to add them! 🐈🪽💜
#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#baldur's gate 3#gale x tav#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#galemancer#gale x reader#answered ask#tara the tressym
248 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii can you please do a y/n Meeks Martin and ethan Landry,y/n is the younger sister off Chad and Mindy and make Chad overprotective and y/n and Chad have a fight because Chad told her not to date anyone because of the ghost face killings and then Ethan comforts y/n with fluff/smut which ever one you want thank youuuuuu btw i love your story’s you inspired me so muchhh in writing hope you have a great day!!!!
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ��� the water’s rough, but this love is ours
ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.5k
ᡣ𐭩 pairing: ethan landry x meeks martin!fem!reader
ᡣ𐭩 summary: chad overwhelms y/n with his protectiveness and ethan is there to comfort her, leading to her admitting her feelings towards him.
ᡣ𐭩 warnings/contents: arguing. chad being an over-protecting brother. oblivious ethan. love confession. making out.
ethan could feel the tension as soon as the two siblings entered the kitchen. y/n’s jaw was clenched while chad had an unapologetic and calm attitude, so ethan guessed he had said something that angered his sister.
“what did you do, chad?” the tall boy sighed, looking at his roommate.
“nothing, really.” chad shrugged.
and if were possible for humans to spit fire, ethan was sure chad would’ve been turned into ashes by now. “nothing?! you scared my project partner away!”
“well, if he can’t handle a bit of sibling pressure, then he’s not for you.” he said, “besides, i told you, you can’t date anyone right now.”
ethan flinched, but the siblings were so immersed in their argument that they didn’t seem to notice his reaction. not that what chad did was right, but if he had managed to drive y/n’s date away, ethan was glad. the less competence, the better. well, if he could even qualify as a competitor, and he wasn’t sure he did.
“ethan? what do you think?” chad’s question pulled him out of his thoughts.
y/n rolled her eyes. “leave him out of it, chad. this is an issue between you and me and i’m going to be very clear. i get you’re worried about ghostface, but you can’t control me. besides, i told you he didn’t even choose me as his partner, it was the professor.”
“but he was damn happy about it, because he wants to kill you? kiss you? both? i don’t know but i didn’t like his vibes.”
“oh my god, you’re so ridiculous!” y/n tilted her head towards the ceiling. she could feel the angry tears starting to cloud her vision.
“chad, maybe you should go.” ethan intervened, seeing the girl’s need to get away from him. he guided his friend towards the door. “could you go to tara’s for a few hours? your sister needs space, you’re suffocating her a bit.”
“i just want her to be safe. we can’t trust anyone.”
“i know you’re doing it because you care, but you can’t react like that. she already has being chased by a psycho killer on her plate, don’t add fighting with her family to it, too. be there for her, but not in an overwhelming way.”
chad’s shoulder slumped and he nodded slowly. “yeah, i can see what you mean. it’s just… i can’t lose her.”
“i get that, truly, i do.” i’m scared of something happening to her, too. he added in his head. “but by behaving like that, you’ll only push her away. now, leave her alone for a few hours and then come back to apologize.”
chad put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed “take care of her, okay? call if something happens.”
“thank you.” ethan heard her voice from behind her as soon as the front door shut closed. “you’re the only one in this group who doesn’t baby me.”
ethan smiled, and brought her into his arms. “well, everyone has a soft spot for you. especially chad, you’re precious to him.”
“i know, but it’s exhausting.” she sighed against his chest. “he’s scared because of the ghostface thing, but he’s always been like that, over-the-top protective. i’m just a year younger, and he treats me like i’m still fifteen.”
“did he scare your date too much?” ethan pursed his lips.
“i’m 100% partner-less.” y/n let out a small laugh. “and he wasn’t my date, i swear. i have no interest in him.”
ethan tried to hide his relief. “but are you? interested in someone?”
y/n tensed. how was she supposed to dive into that subject when the guy she wanted was standing right in front of her? so close yet so out of reach, or so she thought.
“maybe, but he and i can’t happen. well, at least not without causing drama.”
ethan raised and eyebrow. “because of your overprotective brother? he has to get his head out of his ass, eventually.”
“yeah, but… this would really bother him. i think.” she bounced on her feet nervously. he had to understand who she was talking about, right? “like, he would feel betrayed if something happened with this guy.”
“is he on the football team?” of course he was in the football team, ethan thought. i bet he is popular, charming, outgoing. opposite of me.
“what? no. he’d rather be caught dead than near the football field.” she laughed. “he’s not very sporty, but he does go to the gym, occasionally. not something he likes too much.”
“okay, so not one of chad’s friends.” ethan frowned, who could it be? someone from her class?
“actually, he is.” y/n said with a hesitant smile. “and another thing about him is that even though he is one of the smartest guys i’ve ever met, he can be really really dumb sometimes. painfully clueless.”
ethan blinked rapidly. he opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but after a second of hesitation he closed it again. y/n got the sense that maybe ethan had understood who she was talking about, but there was a part of him that wasn’t entirely convinced.
maybe he didn’t want to say it aloud and risk being wrong, ending up like a fool, so she took a step closer to him, until only a few inches separated their faces.
“i like you, ethan.” she finally came clear.
and though ethan had the slight feeling it was him, it still shocked him to the core. he didn’t even dream about the possibility of her returning his feelings, because it just seemed highly unlikely even in fantasies. but for some reason, it was truly happening and he could not find his voice to say it back.
“ethan? please say something because i’m about to throw up here.” her confidence had evaporated as soon as the silence became too long. ethan did the only thing that came to mind, and wrapped her in his arms. with his face hiding in her hair, he smiled widely. “um, is this an ‘i don’t feel that way and i don’t know how to tell you’ hug or an ‘i forgot how to speak but i like you too’ hug?”
ethan laughed. “two. definitely option number two. fuck, your hair smells like coconuts and vanilla.”
“stop smelling my fantastic scented hair and say it back, weirdo. i was truly about to vomit.” she grunted against his shoulder.
he took a small step back and grabbed her face between his hands. “y/n meeks martin, i like you, too. so so bad that it took my brain an embarrassing amount of time to comprehend that you actually feel the same as i do.” he pressed his lips against hers in a soft, long kiss. “you drive me crazy, since that very first night you stayed up with me watching horror movies even though you despise them.”
“i’m the black sheep of the family.” his laugh warmed her heart, and she couldn’t help but smile too. “well, i have to admit i don’t mind seeing them with you. i love it when you tell me fun facts about the movie or the references.”
“oh, really? can you repeat that in front of mindy? while i’m present, please.” he asked with a devilishly smirk.
y/n rolled her eyes. “you’re a child. if you are still alive after we tell chad, then yeah, i can repeat it in front of my sister.”
the tall boy’s eyes widened and he paled a little. “oh, boy. i’m too young to die.”
“and too pretty, let’s not obviate that very important fact.” she pecked his lips.
“but truly, do you think he’s going to hate the idea of us?” ethan asked, worried.
y/n caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. “to be honest, i don’t know. he’s very protective, and the water’s kinda rough right now, but he knows you. he knows how kind and sweet you are, so maybe he’ll be glad i’m dating you. you’re literally one of his favorite people.”
“and maybe that’s why he’ll feel betrayed.” he spoke in an anguished tone.
“everything will be okay, eth. even if he’s bothered by it, he’ll get over it. we’re part of the group and i’m his family, he’s going to see us everyday. he’ll get used to it.”
ethan didn’t seem convinced. “do you really think so?”
y/n nodded with determination. “as much as he is overprotective, he also loves me and want me to be happy. and hell, eth, you make me really happy.”
“would you still like me if i started crying like a baby right now?” he asked, emotion taking over his gaze. having the girl he had liked for months telling him he made her happy made him feel like he had touched the sky with his bare hands.
“see? look at you. chad is not going to be able to hate you. you’re just too damn adorable.” y/n kissed his nose.
“i’m not adorable.” he scoffed. “let’s watch a movie.”
y/n let out an exaggerated groan “nooo let’s make out.”
“sold!” he lifted her in his arms and carefully threw her to the couch.
“adorable.” she muttered between long deep kisses.
“whatever.” kiss. “just.” kiss. “kiss me.”
#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry fic#ethan landry scream#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry smut#jack champion#jack champion x reader#jack champion x y/n#jack champion oneshot#ethan landry fluff#scream iv#scream fanfic#ethan landry angst#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry fanfiction
279 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do a request where Tara comforts reader from a nightmare they had? It mostly involved losing Tara
"i'm right here" - tara carpenter
summary - (takes places after the events of scream 5, you have a nightmare about that one night. the night you still feel guilty about.)
sorry if the writings a little bad, but.. i'm back!!
you were laying on the couch watching a movie. you hadn't been able to see tara because you had work today, so you opted to see her the next day. you had called her as you left work and made sure she was okay, and assured her that you two would see each other tomorrow. she really wanted you to come over after work, but you were too tired, you told her. she tried to get you to come. you loved tara, but she was really really clingy at times, you didn't mind though. you didn't love her any less.
you had started to drift off to sleep, but you jolted awake as your phone rang. it was tara.
"tara? are you okay?" you asked, your mind immediately saying something was wrong from how late she had called you, she never called so late.
a voice was heard.
"y/n! i think.. i think someone's in the house, they called me just a few minutes ago saying they were going to kill you, and i said it was bullshit until they sent me a picture of you in your living room and.. and.."
"what?" you said, taking the covers off of you and you glanced at the window not too far from you, scanning to see if there was anyone outside, but there wasn't. "tara.. slow down, okay what's wrong, who called you?"
"i don't know! some guy.. he said he was from my mom's group, and i believed him until he started going off track and started asking me about my favorite scary fucking movies! and -"
the line went dead.
"tara?"
"tara?"
shit. you grabbed your keys that were in front of you on the table and bolted out of the front door without a second thought.
on the way to tara's, you tried to call the landline, and her phone, but each went to voicemail. you were panicking. frantic. you didn't know whether tara was alive or not. you didn't want to hope for the worst.
soon enough, you pulled up to tara's house. every light was on. upstairs, downstairs, you name it.
you shut the car off, and ran to the front door, banging on it.
no answer.
you banged again, harder this time.
still no answer.
"goddamnit!" you said, sweat starting to cascade down your head.
'wait' you thought. tara always had a spare key incase you came over. and sure enough, it was under the mat below your feet.
with sweaty hands you grabbed the key, and unlocked the door.
"tara?" you called out. "tara! tara where are you?" you turned the corner nearing the kitchen and you saw blood.
it was everywhere. you searched the room for any sign of the attacker, but he was gone.
you were too late.
"tara!" you yelled, kneeling down beside her. it seemed as if she had more then eight stab wounds in her torso. she was bleeding out horribly.
"no.. no..no.. tara? it's.. it's okay.. i'm here.. i'm gonna get help.. shit!" you tried to add a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding, but it was no use.
"y/n?" you heard. it was a whisper but you heard.
"i'm gonna get help tar, don't speak, okay? just.. just hang on!"
you pulled your phone out of your pocket, tears streaming down your face, with blood all over your hands. it was hard to even type in the passcode, let alone dial 911. but you did, thank god.
"hello? please.. help! my girlfriend she.. she got stabbed!" you tried to get the words out but you couldn't, your chest heaving up and down.
"tara? tara stay with me okay, help..help is on the way, i promise! just stay with me... stay with me."
you cradled her head in your hands, bringing yours down to meet.
"oh god.. i should've came.. i could've..."
"y/n..."
'y/n...."
"Y/N!"
you jolted awake, scanning the room, your shirt wet from sweat. your eyes then landed on the figure next to you.
"tara?"
"y/n.. it's okay, i'm here.. was it a nightmare again?" she asked her hands cupping your face as you melted into them, eyes closed.
"yeah.. i.. you're okay.." you said, panting.
"i'm okay, see?" she grabbed your hand placing it on her heart. "i'm okay, i'm alive, and i'm breathing." she chuckled.
"do you want to talk about it?"
"i.. maybe tomorrow. can i just hold you.. please?" you asked, finally opening your eyes.
"of course you can."
you pulled her close, needing to hear her every breath as she slept, needing to know that she was close by you for the rest of the night.
#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#lorraine day x reader#jenna ortega x reader
136 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi, sweetie! Hope you’re doing well. I just had the cutest thought that I wanted to share. And maybe if you want to add on to it as a drabble or something please feel free:) if not, then please just enjoy todays shower thoughts lol.
I’m thinking about a friends with benefits! reader and Daryl who find themselves travelling by canoe for whatever reason. And how they might get into some petty argument or even play fight that ends with them flipping the boat and the two of them just stand in the water, soaking wet and staring blankly at eachother with disappointment. Bangs sticking to your both your foreheads as the canoe slowly floats down the river along with all your dignity.
Take care! xoxo
Rocking the Boat
Synopsis: Daryl has been back home for weeks; the first attack against the Sanctuary is complete; Alexandria, the Kingdom, and the Hilltop are on their way to freedom; but nothing is the same as it was, especially not with you and Daryl. Maybe a house boat side quest will break the ice, or really, make some waves.
Details: This is set during the beginning of season 8, it includes violence, smut, a fwb relationship but feelings are involved, mutual pining, a little bit of switch Daryl and reader, and some sweetness because I think it’s just my thing at this point. ♡
A/N + Response: Hello, lovely miss T ♡ what a fun idea!! I love the imagery you set with the canoe tipping over, especially the bangs so cute— it was one of my favorite parts to write here! This is probably a bit unrealistic and much longer than I intended, so I think I might consider this a full one-shot as well as a concept, and… it’s also a bit sad? Just a little until we get to the good stuff, I promise ;) Anyway I hope you like it; let me know what you think!!
Daryl sat on Rick’s porch, his back against the poles, reloading his guns as you sped up the steps, “I think we should go back to the boats. Now.” Your voice was hurried, you had run all the way from your house, but he didn't even look up at you.
“Why would we do somethin’ stupid like that?” His voice was low, and annoyed. You didn’t expect to be greeted kindly, but at least he sounded like anything other than emotionless to you since the first time you saw him again; since the time he escaped the Sanctuary.
“There’s no one there. I saw it before I got back home. There were people with guns sitting outside the first time we saw it, but now there aren't.”
“A couple of guns ain’t gonna help us.”
“There had to have been a reason they were guarding it before.” Your words were urgent and your eyes pleaded for him to look up. “Any amount of guns could make the difference, Daryl. You know that.” You stare at him, waiting for nothing as he doesn’t respond. “Did you and Rick even find anything before you got back?” You cross your arms, “Cause it doesn’t look like it. And I think I just did.”
You had gotten separated from the group after the first attack against the Sanctuary: you ran without thinking, just trying to get away from the army of walkers stampeding the place. Straying off the usual path to Alexandria, you accidentally reencountered a place you and Daryl only saw once before. It was a time before Negan, before the Saviors. But now, remembering their jackets, and their weapons, and how their bikes looked parked at the shore, you realized those were three Savior cabin boats— fairly sized, a bit rusty, they had a shack like feel, but it was big enough to stand and sleep in. Maybe something of use could be in there, and at least it was something to do while you waited for the final attack.
Similar to Rosita and Michonne, you also got hurt by the scavengers— day zero of the war, when Sasha died— but the girls left you here, they didn’t even tell you they were going, you didn’t even see them leave. But you needed to get out too; you needed to help. “I’m going with or without you.” Your anger started bubbling at his indifference, “And I saw you talking to Tara, I know you’re planning something, so if you want to go off with her and complete your idiot side plan-”
“You’re the one with the dumbass plan.”
“- then that’s fine!” You glare at him, his eyes still so evasive, it infuriates you. “My objective is to find more weapons, before the final attack.” You lied, you both knew your objective was to rest before the final attack, “So I’m gonna go do that.”
You begin to walk briskly. You knew he was going to try to stop you. You knew he was going to come with you when he realized, yet again, he couldn’t stop you, or… you hoped he couldn’t… Sometimes you forget how much stronger he is than you. You had a smart mouth and you knew how to get a reaction out of him, or at least you did in the past, but he could pinned you down with one hand, making you completely immobile— it’s happened before. The thought makes you walk faster, heading for the nearest car. You were trying to make a point although you weren’t sure what it was. You were just tired of sitting around, tired of his treatment— mistreatment, actually. You knew he had reason to act curtly, what he went through was unspeakable, but you were still there for him, waiting, but he never came to you. Not even late at night. Not even to simply sleep.
Just as you’re about to reach the car you feel his hand wrap around your arm, you almost let it yank you. Your breath is a heavy mix of fear and excitement as he does so. Maybe you finally got something out of him. Maybe you still have it. Maybe you still have him. “We don’t got time for this,” he hissed. Then his jaw clenched, it almost looked like he was chewing on something, “but you’re forgetting the boat.”
“It’s a canoe.” You were pushing it with the retort, he was coming.
He grunts as he lets go of your arm, it slapping down to your side. You wait for him by the car as he retrieves the canoe and paddles from one of the house garages. You guys had found it a long while ago, never knowing when it would be of use. That time was now.
The ride toward the waterfront was irritable and depressing to say the least. You wanted to be around Daryl, you wanted to stop him from going off plan with Tara, but most importantly, you just wanted to talk to him; finally and for once. You all were on the biggest missions of your life, in the biggest war of your life… who knows where your fates would lie after this, but he has yet to say anything to you that didn’t involve fighting the Saviors, and even with that, he didn’t say much. He wanted to win. He was ready to do it fast. Whatever it took. That was all.
He kept shifting in his seat, short, low grunts coming out of the side of his mouth— he didn’t want to do this right now, but he knew you were just as stubborn as him, especially when it came to him. As dumb as he felt this was, it wasn’t time for another person he cares about to get hurt.
“Stop fuming,” you muttered.
He snapped back, barking your name, “We’re in a war! We could be doin’ better things right now and got me here for what?”
“Maybe so you don’t kill people we need alive right now?” You were talking about Dwight, you did more than just see Daryl talking to Tara.
His following grunt truly said typical. “You always got your nose where it don’t belong.”
You ignore him, “We should follow Rick’s plan.”
He shakes his head, ignoring you this time. He’s tired of talking about this. He’s going to go on the boat, see if there’s weapons, get Tara, and use whatever you two find to complete his own plan at the Sanctuary. This needs to be done.
“At least it’s a little over 5 miles off the out-post the Kingdom took out,” you reason, “that must be why no one is there anymore.”
Still no response. Typical, it’s your turn to think it. You let go of talking to him for now. The rest of the drive was silent as well as when you get to your destination, starting to put the canoe on water.
You look at the three small, now unguarded, boats. Only one bike was by the land and there was blood splattered on the middle house, the biggest one. Maybe the Kingdom took out the guy that was there, but there were no boats or canoes around, no way for someone to get close enough inside.
You two get in, starting to row. “There better be somethin’ good in there,” Daryl huffed. You hoped so too. Uncertainty started filling in with the reality of your awful plan. There really could be nothing in there and you really could have spent your day doing something that mattered to the cause. If these boats held anything important, why wasn’t a Savior there already? But even worse, the realization that you were acting out of desperation just because Daryl had been acting so cold… felt even more terrible.
You knew Daryl was scarred, far more than before and you were trying to be patient. You were going to let him come to you. You knew he needed time, and he was at the Kingdom for a little bit anyway, hiding out from Negan. You couldn’t even talk to him if you wanted to because of that. But now you had been planning that first attack for weeks, you were sleeping in the same place together again, but not in the same room, not touching. And again, you understood why, but then again… you didn’t. It was so hard to gain his trust, for him to open up to you, you thought that was something you gained for keeps; but now he wasn’t even allowing you to have a friendship anymore, let alone this in-between relationship you used to have. It made you upset how much power you realized you let him have over you. You missed him so much, and now you weren’t even sure if he missed you back, or if he had reason to. Maybe it was just a fling after all.
War feels long, but it’s only a short time in truth. Nonetheless, a short time that can define who you are thereafter. This could be him, and maybe it always was. And this could be how you two will always be. Forever.
You decide to break the silence again as you row, your thoughts becoming insufferable: “That’s actually not the right technique,” you stutter, “if- if you’re curious.” You start to row based on what you taught yourself, the canoe going just a bit faster now, “I read it in a book from Deana’s old library.”
“So you read somethin’ in a book and now you think you know everything?” His eyes were annoyed. “Hmph.”
Your voice raises, “Well just because you’re so experienced in the wilderness or whatever doesn’t mean you know everything either.”
“I’m doin’ it fine.” He wasn’t. “You don’t even know how to swim.” You didn’t. “So maybe just be glad you ain’t dying today.”
You repeat yourself, “Still- doesn’t- mean- you know how to do everything… You expect me to think Merle took you canoeing? Of all things?” You cock your head, “Pretty sure he was out finding the next score.” You knew it was a low blow to bring up the dead brother, but you were upset. No talking and now insults? You could be cold too, even colder, even if you didn’t like it.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up!”
Then you screamed. A walker with gills, swimming in the water approached your boat behind Daryl. Your voice made him turn around to see it. You take your paddle to try to stab it in the head, but the walker’s hands are along the canoe rim, coming closer to you, it makes you accidently hit Daryl with your swing. “Oh- Sorry!”
“Fuck!” He yelled.
“I’m sorry!” A realization comes, “Is this the guy?”
“If it was he’s been dead for a while.” Daryl shouts, taking out his gun and you take out your knife. He’s trying to shoot the walker in the head, it’s closer to your side now. But you’re thrashing and water is flying while you try to jab them in the head with your knife. The walker has one of your arms and you’re trying to pry it away with the hand that has the knife. Neither of you have a clear shot at getting the thing, all three of you rocking the canoe far too much.
“Stay still!” He yells at you.
“Im trying!” You shout with the same force, the same annoyance, “He’s not making it easy, Daryl!”
Daryl has a chance to shoot the walker in the stomach, and he takes it, but it does nothing. The walker’s hands on you do not quit. The two of you just keep yelling at each other, riling the walker up. You can hear the biting sounds they’re making near your arm.
He shoots again, but you and the walker are still moving too much and Daryl’s loosing balance. The walker is tipping the canoe with their hands, water splashing inside. The next bullet goes into the wood, making a hole.
Their starving mouth continues to try to bite at you. You pull using all your strength to get their mouth away, trying to use your other hand to slice into their head. You two have never seen a walker like this: they can swim and they’re so strong.
Water now fills the boat from the hole as Daryl moves forward on the canoe, pushing your head, his hand quite literally covering your whole face to shove you out of the way, getting a clear shot at the walker and firing at their head. He clicks twice: Boom. Boom. Guts and water fly everywhere.
The splashing of the water and the firing of his gun overwhelms all your senses. The weight of Daryl is on your side now, neither of you have balance; both your weights pull the canoe over the edge as it flips over entirely with you under it.
You scream, but your voice is muffled. You thrash around, trying to use what little experience you have. You come above water for a few seconds, wailing, and Daryl grabs you.
“Hey- Hey- Hey!” his words snap, rough like barks until he gets you to look at him, gripping your face so it’s forward. “It’s okay,” he’s breathing almost as heavy as you are. His voice becomes even now, “It’s okay.” You realize he has you in his arms— it really was okay.
Feeling he might make a comment about you almost drowning, you force yourself to speak through water filled lungs, “Don’t. Say it.”
So he didn’t. He just holds you tight, you even feel his thumbs squeezing into you at the waist now, and through half lidded eyes, you see his arms tense, working hard to make sure you never fall, but it’s at a half arm's length, his elbows bent. You blink rapidly, your wet eyelashes still flapping shut until you’re able to open them better. You can see Daryl more clearly now.
You try to swipe some of the hair out of your face. The baby hairs at the crown of your forehead stayed slick in place while some parts of your hair started to lightly form your wave or curl pattern, but in all, you were absolutely drenched.
Your hands now hold onto his forearms just as tight as his below. It was one of those rare moments where you remember just how blue his eyes are. Their narrow shape and the way his hair lays always hides them away. But the sun was behind you, casting its light directly on him and his hair was now slick to his head as well: only some of it resting on his forehead.
If someone were to describe Daryl’s looks, they would probably say something typical like dark and rugged. They don’t see what you see. God, you forgot how uniquely handsome he was.
His hair changed colors in the light, it wasn’t as dark brown anymore, flecks of it were a more golden brown in the sun. And you loved the mole that was just above his lip and facial hair. Almost no one else in the group had something like that. And now, there was the way his button down stuck onto his skin. The color was dark enough that it wasn’t see-through, but you saw every indent, every line of his bicep and tricep as you looked at his arms, trying to avoid his face, trying to avoid his chest or anywhere lower.
On the other hand, Daryl was trying even harder to avoid looking at your soaked body, failing even worse. His eyes couldn’t help but linger on how your chest huffed as you tried to catch your breath. Your collarbones are now exposed as your shirt slides down just a bit further, the light color almost see through because of the water, and your bra didn’t help much either. It was one of those without the padding, it was the only one that fit— your supplies, food and wearable, clean clothing, were running dangerously low at home. The thin material of both top garments showed how your nipples perked up now. And the way he had to grasp tightly on the smalls of your waist, feeling your stomach inhale and exhale as you calmed yourself down didn’t help either. It was like he felt your hold body moving… similar to a way he used to feel it.
It all makes him realize now how he hasn’t gotten the courage to look at you directly in the longest. God, he forgot how pretty you are. How lovely it was to hold you. Even if it was to escape death.
Your eyes are so big as you hold on tightly to his arms, you’re still shaken up. Trying to paddle your feet like you’ve seen on tv and in videos in the past. It’s adorable.
He didn’t dare look any longer, but part of him wondered if you were looking at him the same way. And you were. Specifically, the way you could see every line and ripple of his abdomen with his button up now glued to his body. As you let your eyes trail just a bit more form his arms, you noticed how magnified his chest looked, how his nipples were just as pert as yours.
It all made you feel something warm down below and it made something inside him twitch, but this wasn’t the time. He had been feeling so many things since he returned that he didn’t even know which ones to act upon first, so he reverted back to saying nothing, or at least nothing that had to do with how he really felt, how he really felt about you that is.
In the end, “You better hope I can make one of those shits run or we’re fucked,” was all he decided to say.
He moves your hands onto the back sides of his waist and he starts to swim. Your legs are off to the sides and he tells you to kick as he is and hold on tight as he swims you both to the middle boathouse, the one with the blood.
You hold onto the ledge as you finally arrive, allowing Daryl to go in first, checking for walkers at each boat. He does the side ones first. No one is there. Finally, he goes to the middle house: out of all of them, it’s the biggest wreck. The place is filled with pictures, Polaroids, scattered all over the place. It’s of the Saviors. And there’s all kinds of guns scattered on the floor, but he can’t help but to stare at the faces. He knew some of those faces.
You call his name, but he doesn’t respond. “What was in the other two?” You yell for him again, but nothing. You decide to go in the middle one as well, your eyes are amazed by the mess of guns on the floor. There were even ones still hooked up to the wall. There were knives and daggers too. Even glass cases with various bullets, you wondered what they did. Was this the emergency weapons stash? Had you reached it before a Savior could? “Why aren’t you picking this stuff up?” You look up at him impatiently, shaking your head and huffing, you’ll do it yourself you guess.
Daryl continues to look around, picking up a frame. The only framed picture in the boat. It was cracked on the ground: A Polaroid of Negan.
He takes the picture out of the broken glass to look at it closer. As if this wasn’t already the attitude of much of the Saviors, whoever lived and protected this place must have worshiped him. Negan stood proudly in it, his bat on the side of his shoulders, a big rifle strapped around his back on the other. His hair and beard was all black, and that notorious, all encompassing grin plastered his face from ear to ear. Daryl turned the picture over: the words, ‘Negan — The First Savior. My Savior,’ was written on the back.
It fired him up. It made him think of the dark, of that cell, of the food that probably wasn’t even food, when he was kicked and jumped by those Saviors in the parking lot, and that damn song— the saccharine melody would live on in his brain like a siren. There would never be silence inside him again. In fact, there never was. It was only louder now. So loud and so angry he feels it in his throat, traveling to his tongue, beneath his eyes, as he can no longer keep it in anymore; but he tries, and tries, and tries, quietly holding everything in while you keep collecting weapons, putting them in bags you find. The picture crumples in his closing hand, his fist turning red as he grips tightly, ruining the shining paper.
He slides down against the boat wall, sitting on the ground biting his tongue, stopping the feelings until you're done; until you two can leave and he can do what he needs to do. It’ll be without you, without Rick, without anyone. This needs to be done. He’ll do it.
“Daryl,” you call out, not facing him, collecting the bags. “I think I counted 32, but it could be 40… I think there’s smaller ones by the wheel and I didn’t even get the swords yet. If there's about the same number on the other two, there could be maybe over 100 new weapons,” you gasp with disbelief. “Were the other two like this?“
You we’re relieved, you knew it was a dumb plan, but you came out of it with a win; it was worth it. “Daryl, come on-” you turn to him now, “oh.”
You almost couldn’t see his eyes with how much more narrow he made them, they were practically closed and his face was down. You wondered if this was the moment you would first see him cry: his lip quivered, his face was as red as his fists, and he wouldn’t look in your direction, his head was basically to the wall as you started to walk to him.
Your movements are slow as you kneel down to the corner in which he sat. You place fingers along his jaw until your whole hand wraps around the area. Your strokes are gentle, feeling the bristles of his beard on your palm. He had been so angry since he returned, hell bent on war and death, but you remembered… he must have also been so sad, so depressed too. Poor boy, you thought. Poor boy, you forgot; in some ways, he still was just a boy.
You turn his cheek to face you, but his eyes don’t dare meet yours as a few tears start rolling out. Your own emerge too. It’s heartbreaking to see him like this.
You put your forehead to his, your nose rubbing against his own, “I’m so sorry,” you whisper.
You come even closer. Your lips lightly touch his, you’re tentative at first, not knowing if it was right, but then you feel his brush against yours just as light. You decide to move in, your lips parting his own as you kiss him.
Your tongue goes into his mouth, your hand raising his chin, you’re so delicate. He holds your shoulder, you lean into his bent body and your other hand slides against his chest. You’re both still wet and cold, but his heart beats warmly.
His head leans up against the wall as you push yourself further onto his lips. You hold his shoulders and he allows you to slide him down.
You look up at him, your hands on his shirt. This is not how you expected today to go. “Is this okay?” You ask softly. His nod is just as soft, you almost don’t see it, but his hands are lightly on top of your own as you unbutton his shirt, he lets you. It’s okay.
He’s unbuckling his belt now, pushing his pants down and your top goes over your head. He starts to unbutton your own jeans. It’s quiet except for your breaths, and the clinking of belts, and the undoing of zippers.
You pull him out a little more from the corner so you can straddle him. You start grinding your hips down into him and he pushes into your clit with his finger, circling it. The bit of warmness you felt below before is now almost pooling out instantly from just the littlest touches. Your back arches, you haven’t felt him in so, so long. You gasp and it accidentally turns into a moan. You’re so needy for it, but you remember: you want to help him.
Your hands move down to his stomach, your lips kiss his neck as your hands travels up to his chest and then back down, you start kissing him everywhere there as you do so, breathing him in, it makes him fidgety, little gruff sounds irruption from his throat, he’s trying to keep it in. Then you got even lower: you kiss down his cock until you’re at the tip. You lick at the pre-cum there. You put just a little bit of him inside your mouth, sucking, stroking the rest of it. His exhale comes out as a shaky gasp, he whimpers slightly.
Finally, you move back up and line yourself up with him, sinking down slowly as you look him in the eyes. You can’t help it, you start to ride him immediately thereafter. The stretch feels so good and so big and full as if you’ve never felt him before. Your moan is light and airy, you missed him. And he groans, “-ugh, fuck” and moans, “uh- mm- argh,” right after you do so. He missed you. You know that now, it makes you smile.
You lean up against him slightly. His mouth parted and you speak into it, your breast brushing against him as you rolled onto him, your stomached touching a bit. “I’ve got you,” you pant into his mouth, he’s panting too, “always.”
He holds onto your hips as you go faster, you’re holding onto his shoulders. “Does it feel good?” You kiss him right after you ask, his tongue going to the top of your mouth, sliding in wet and deliciously, it’s everything you’ve waited for. He hums into you as a response. You feel his dick twitch as your pussy grips on him tighter.
You feel like you both could be close until he starts kissing you more fiercely. His tongue only slipping in slightly as he pecks your lips, he bites down slightly, then kissing you deeply again. Then he turns you over. You’re under him now. His hands go right by your ears, flat on the ground and he thrusts into you. Hard. It almost hurts, you can’t lie. He’s grunting, short and quick, but his rasp, and his hair flying as he quickens the pace, and the fact that pain is slowly turning into pleasure… you’re fine with it. If this is what he needs, you’re fine with it.
His next grunt is almost a yell, it’s like a battle cry. He’s angry and you know it. You hold onto his flex arms tenderly, caressing him, silently telling him you’re there, but you allow him to continue.
His movements are faster now. More irate. His body comes closer to yours, but his movements do not stop their force. His thrusts feels like poundings, you feel like the floor is moving, maybe the boat is rocking, the bags jump with it.
He looks at your screwed shut eyes as one of his hands comes to touch your chest. Trailing your breast, then to the bottom of your stomach, staying there, pressing down, feeling himself inside of you has he shoves himself up and in, he’s deep, so deep. “Mmm,” You’re whining now, “-uuh.” It makes his eyes lighten, he’s humming, low and gruff and continuous, stuttering into you, eyes open waiting to see you come so then he can. It’s right there for him, but he wants to see you, he needs it.
Your moan mixes into a whine, “Daryl please,” you beg, “Daryl please- it’s- it’s too much, it hurts,” it makes him go even faster, and he can’t help himself as he comes in you first, sighing as he does so, but it’s exactly what you need to come undone yourself.
You grab the back of his neck, holding it close to you as you squeeze your arms around him and he does the same to your waist.
You both try to calm your breaths, “Never leave me again,” you say into his ear, breathing roughly. “Please.”
“Never.” He looks at you right in the eye when repeats it, “Never.” He wipes the tears from your face as you both nod, affirming a new promise to each other. “We’ll win. Together.”
After laying for a few moments, just looking at each other, he goes to the bathroom to find a washcloth, warming it with water, helping you clean up. He takes your hand so you can start doing it yourself and he kisses your forehead before he starts to get dressed. “I’ll be back.”
Soon enough, you hear the engine in the front start to rev up. He got it to work.
“You can drive a boat?”
“Gonna learn.” He turns to you, pulling you in front resting your hands on the wheel while he stands behind, his arms over your own. “We both are.”
#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x afab!reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon#the walking dead smut#the walking dead fanfiction#twd smut#twd fanfiction#wonders with writella#wonderings with daryl#💌 ask answered 💌
396 notes
·
View notes
Text
Meta: Jemily Queerbaiting
With the huge influx of posts saying 'Jemily is gonna be canon', I really appreciated seeing this post because OP was completely correct. I didn't want to write an entire dissertation as a reply, so I'm making my own post with my personal opinion on this. (All sources are noted in footnotes)
Before I began this rant, for anyone who thinks this is anti-Jemily. It is not. I have shipped Jemily for 18 friggin years and that's never going to change. This post is specifically my thoughts about queer baiting.
First off, I need to note that the showrunners (and the cast members who use social media) KNOW what a huge queer following this show has and that's why we got pansexual Tara Lewis in S16 [1]. Which, in itself, was SOOOOOOO important!!! Our first canonically queer main in SIXTEEN seasons was a middle-aged Black woman!!! That's phenomenal. (The fact it was horrible rep, because they instantly ruined her relationships once her queerness served it's plot point is a whole other post entirely)
In my opinion, the 'big Jemily moment' Paget posted about on Twitter [2] (and AJ hinted at during a recent IG live) is simply queerbaiting to get people to watch S17. I know a lot of you are newer to the fandom and I love your enthusiasm, I really do, ship and let ship, but listen, let's be real, Jemily is not going to be made canon. The showrunners aren't going to suddenly say (after 17 seasons) 'Surprise, Jemily is endgame'. This show has never cared about queer rep and now that CBS/Paramount have already ticked their queer rep box with Tara, they won't be in any rush to add any other characters to it.
Please buckle in, I've got a lot of thoughts on this matter --
What is Queerbaiting?
If you aren't aware of what queerbaiting is, here's a good definition:
Historically, queerbaiting has carried two meanings: the first is an act of aggressive heterosexuality to shut down queer subtext on screen while still teasing and catering to the queer audience in advertising, public relations, and fan engagement strategies; the second is an existing homoerotic tension between two characters played up on screen while met with derision by the professionals behind the scenes. [3]
The Medium article quoted here is from 2017, a time when parasocial relationships were really starting to take over social media. In 2024, actors are now only a mention or tag away online, they have direct conversations with fans, and this process has allowed for an even deeper form of queerbaiting.
Oftentimes online, actors are asked directly about certain ships and while some ignore these questions (usually to avoid breaking their contracts or other repercussions), others (looking at you, Paget) choose to instead tease fans about queer ships. She's done this for years upon years and if I've learned anything in the past twenty-years of existing in fandom spaces it's this -- don't hold your breath. In it's original meaning, for something to be deemed as queerbaiting there had to be malicious, or at least, purposeful intent to string queer fans along by teasing them with suggestive content about the ship in question, while knowing this ship will never come to fruition in canon.
The thing to remember is, Paget and AJ aren't the only ones who know about Jemily shippers -- the network and showrunners are well aware of this ship too. When networks/showrunners figure out they have a strong sapphic fanbase, they love to use that to their advantage to get more viewers and higher ratings. Queerbaiting is a goldmine to keep fans watching long running shows, look at Rizzoli and Isles, Supergirl, and OUAT for examples of this.
Jemily and Queerbaiting:
Ever since Emily joined the BAU in S2 (2006), there have always been fans who ship JJ/Emily (shoutout to the old LJ forums!). Way before celebs were just a tweet away from fans, back when all our fics began with disclaimers so we wouldn't get sued by networks, we went to great lengths to keep our fanworks far removed from actors/showrunners attention.
As far as Jemily goes, this reply from Paget in a 2009 interview with TVGuide.com [4] (which has now been deleted from their site unfortunately, but there are quotes on Tumblr still [4.a]) confirmed some fans' worst fear -- the actors had found our fanworks online.
TVGuide.com: Of course, a band of fans want her to hook up with Hotch.
Brewster: I know! I didn't realize that fans make these videos on YouTube? A.J. Cook sent me a hilarious one that made it look like Prentiss and J.J. were having a secret lesbian affair. You know, when Hotch was blown up in the SUV, we shot this scene where he's in the hospital and I'm standing next to him, looking at his bleeding ear. Our director came in and said, "Paget, you're looking at Hotch like you're in love with him. It looks really weird." So now, every day, Thomas [Gibson] and I flutter our eyelids at each other.
This was the first time I recall anyone acknowledging Jemily shippers publicly and at the time (Jan 2009), the show was still in Season Four (just before CBS fired both AJ and Paget [5]). Paget genuinely said it's 'hilarious' that fans shipped JJ/Emily. Even now, I'll see people say 'We know Paget and AJ have seen Jemily fanvids, so they obviously ship it too' -- but those same people rarely acknowledge the full context of the original answer. Paget not only thought JJ/Emily were 'hilarious', but then she doubled down and turned her reply back to how she and Thomas liked to play up the chemistry between Emily/Hotch.
While no one can say for sure which video it was that AJ sent Paget, just knowing they were watching JJ/Emily fanvids sent a bit of a shockwave through the femslash side of the fandom. To some it felt like an invasion of privacy, fanworks are by fans for fans -- knowing the cast were poking around in fandom spaces added an extra layer of worry around what we fans were posting online. Fifteen years ago, it used to be quite taboo for actors to outwardly discuss shipping or other fanon for whatever show they were in, and we fans were usually comfortably removed from the actors altogether.
Of course, now it's the norm for fans and actors/showrunners to co-exist online and interact with one another. This connection has opened new ways for shows to queerbait their fans. Pretty much every show has some form of social media account now and there is no doubt that the people running those accounts keep up with the most popular ships and hashtags. Not to mention that actors are constantly barraged with questions about whether they ship their character with x,y,z, or whether they think a ship should be made canon, etc. These interactions only serve to benefit the shows themselves, because whether the conversation is for or against a certain ship, it's all just free publicity (Why do you think CM now has a TikTok account?)
Every time AJ or Paget say anything about Jemily, the queer side of the fandom loses their minds. But this has been going on for YEARS now and every single time, it turns out to be nothing but social media hype and queerbaiting. Remember this AJ post? [6] Or what about the notorious reply by Paget to a fan, where she talks about how she and AJ held hands under the table 'for the shippers' [7] I've seen this cycle over and over again, so perhaps I am cynical, but I'm not getting my hopes up that Jemily will ever seriously be canon.
It's widely known now, after both Kirsten [8] and Paget [9] have talked about it, that there was an early idea where Prentiss was supposed to be queer, but that was ultimately scraped before it ever made it on screen. For context, please remember, this show has been airing for nearly twenty years. It began in 2005, during the highly conservative Bush administration. Queer people didn't have rights in the US, we couldn't get married, we were rarely protected under discrimination laws, and we could even be fired for simply being queer (in some states). Diverse queer representation on screen was extremely limited to things like 'The L Word' and 'Queer as Folk' (both aired on Showtime, so they were behind a paywall. And as far as tLw goes, that show was extremely male-gaze focused and is horrible in nearly all regards if you try to rewatch it now). As far as prime time shows went, queer rep was even more rare. Which is why Emily wasn't queer from the get-go.
Yes, things have changed since 2006 in terms of queer rep on TV. We have a myriad of queer identities represented in TV and film nowadays, which is why I think it's so easy for newer fans to say 'lf she was supposed to be gay anyway, they should just make Emily queer in canon!' I know this is what fuels most fans' demands for Emily being confirmed queer, and I get it, I DO. I would be all for it! However, I do not, in one hundred years, actually believe that is going to happen after they already canonically queer confirmed Tara in S16. The fact we even got ONE queer character is ground-breaking for this show.
It's also worth noting, that in the time between Paget's departure in 2012 and her return in 2016, she became very active on Twitter. This was when more and more fans began asking her about Jemily and after Kirsten's AfterEllen interview, fans also pushed for Paget to address the possibility of Emily being gay. 'Pushed' is actually an understatement for some of the outright harassment she would receive. (AJ received some of this harassment too, but less so because she doesn't use social media ass often) Back then, neither of them replied to these things directly. Yet, no matter what either woman posted, the replies were full of Jemily stans begging for her acknowledgement. (Did you know 'stan' is literally a term coined for stalker fans?) I remember one time AJ's friend was missing and she posted info on her IG about it, you know what the replies were? People asking her about Jemily. It was genuinely sickening.
Within this context, it was no surprise to fans when Emily came back in S12 , she and JJ's friendship was seemingly erased. The two women were rarely on screen together in the late seasons, plus the writers saw fit to even give Emily not only one (Mark in London, but two, on-screen boyfriends for the first time in the entire series. I personally do not think these changes to Emily's character were coincidence, I saw the hellscape of what people would say to AJ and Paget online and I fully believe that upon Paget's return to the show, the showrunners purposely tried to distance JJ and Emily to dissuade the more abusive side of the fanbase.
Can I prove that, no. But it is the only reason I can think of as to why Emily S12+ seemingly didn't care about JJ anymore, despite their deep and meaningful friendship. I mean, they both CROSSED THE WORLD to go rescue each other in prior canon -- but when Emily comes back, they acted like they barely knew each other. This was even more prevalent in S16, when JJ's main storylines all revolved around Will, and Emily barely looked at JJ in the entirety of ten episodes. (Remember how Prentiss didn't even hug JJ after bomb, but she did go hug Luke?)
So, do Paget and AJ earnestly ship Jemily, or are they continuing the long tradition of queerbaiting us? Who fucking knows, not me. But based on the history of this fandom, I think I can make a safe bet. (Interestingly, if you search all of Paget's twitter for the word 'Jemily' [10] she only has 3 direct tweets mentioning the ship. I don't think it's a coincidence that two are within the past few months since they started filming S17 (the other one was a RT of Kirsten (who tagged something Jemily)
This is all to say --
Just because Paget and AJ have publicly talked about Jemily,, this doesn't mean it's ever going to happen on screen. And you know what, THAT'S OKAY!! There has been this constant outcry (after Tara became queer confirmed) of 'Do Emily next' or 'Why wasn't it Emily with a girlfriend!?' and 'Jemily needs to be canon in S17!' -- as if people believe their ships aren't worth anything unless they are canon.
That couldn't be further from the truth! Fandom is built on headcanons and fan interpretations and rare pairs and all types of shippers. Your ship does NOT need to be canon for you to enjoy it. I will ship Jemily forever, no matter what. I don't think there will be some magical queer plot in S17, at best, we might actually get to see Emily/JJ on screen together again and after the train wreck that was S16 -- I'll take whatever I can get.
And hey -- if I am completely wrong, if Erica Messer pulls a Korrasami out of her hat, I will be ecstatic. I will be happy to be proved wrong, but at the same time, I'm not going to lose sleep over it and I'm DEFINITELY not going to go hound the actors about it on social media.
Sources:
[1] 2022 Digital Spy article about the importance of Tara's coming out
[2] 04/18/24 Paget Tweet
[3] 2017 Queerbaiting article from medium.com
[4] 2009 Broken TVGuide link
[4.a] Tumblr quote from the above TVGuide Interview
[5] 2010 Kirsten interview screenrant.com
[6] 2019 AJ Instagram Post
[7] 2020 Paget video on Twitter (via @karasluthqr)
[8] 2015 Kirsten interview AfterEllen.com
[9] 2016 Paget Interview CriminalMindsFans.com
[10] @PagetPaget search 'Jemily'
#criminal minds#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#paget brewster#aj cook#cm commentary#queerbaiting#cm meta#criminal minds evolution#cm evolution#my writing#long post
76 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi hi hi!! i just read your bg3 headcannons and the way you write astarion and gale is so on brand!! i love the way you write! its a follow for me :> my older sister is the one who is into bg3 (i only know basically everything due to her rambles LMAO) and i read them out loud with her listening while she did her laundry and she loved them sm! thanks for being the source of my sister's serotonin
i also saw that your requests are open, and my older sister would like to make a request :)) she was wondering if you could write wedding planning/wedding ceremony headcannons for the characters?! She was so sad she didn't get to see any wedding related scenes with Gale after the game events ;-;
Wedding preparations-BG3
I’m literally going to cry that’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me 😭 I’m so happy your sister and yourself like my writing so much, it gives me so so so much joy that you both enjoy it. Also I agree, Larian Studios should add a wedding dlc or something 🙏🏻 (Also since you weren’t exactly specific, I’ll do Astarion and Gale because it sounds like those are your favs!!)
Before reading: Fluff, gn reader, Astarion x reader, Gale x reader
Astarion:
After his journey with you and the other companions, he’s sure that he wants to spend eternity with you
He’s never thought of romance, he wasn’t able to when he was a slave to Cazador
But now that he’s free, and now that he’s with you, he’s sure that he shall never love again if he loses you
You’re the one who has to actually bring up the thought of marriage,
He knows he will forever stay with you wether you marry or not
He lets you do all of the planning, as long as he gets to pick the guests
He doesn’t want anything too extravagant, shockingly
Just you, your eternal bond, and your closest companions
That’s all he really wants for a ceremony
He doesn’t ask for much, because he’s never put any thought on marriage or anything like that
He asks you if it’s alright to take your surname, for he wishes to part with his old life and start anew with you at his side
Planning is easy with him around, but expect him to jokingly complain here and there lol
Gale:
Bro has never been more sure of anything in his life
He wanted to marry you the moment he laid his eyes on you
After your long, dangerous journey rehearsing the Absolute, he makes it his mission to propose to you
He just wants to take you back to Waterdeep, have you meet his mother, and finally settle down
He’s been through so much, a comfortable life with you would have him die a happy man
When it comes to the actual planning, he would like to keep everything equal
As long as you agree with everything, he’s happy. (and vice versa)
Like Astarion, he doesn’t want anything over the top or extremely fancy
A simple, fun wedding with the traditional dancing and close friends and family is all he really wants in a ceremony like this one
Also you cannot convince me he doesn’t bring Tara (his cat) to the wedding omg
He just wants to make this day special for the both of you
It’s a day he shall never forget, after all
Thanks for reading!
#x reader#fanfic#fyp#candyk0rn#Baldurs Gate 3#bg3#bg3 x reader#bg3 astarion#bg3 Gale#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x reader#gale x reader#baldurs gate gale#fluff
320 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi cate, i rlly love your writing. I was wondering if you could di a blurb in virgin!reader relentlessly teasing Spence about how he probably isn’t even that good at sex and is probably small and he proves her wrong pls pls pls its been on my mind for so long😵💫
THIS !! but it's him ^^ because his short fuse is 10/10 also i didn't write this as virgin reader, because i wanted it to be rough, I hope that's okay <3
By the time truth or dare is being played, you're drunk, with enough shots and cocktails in your system that you're bold enough to say just about anything.
You're standing around a high table, holding the bench to avoid swaying too much, when Luke suggests truth or dare. Tara jumps in on it, and before anyone can stop to think about consequences or too much personal information being shared about co-workers, all of you are playing.
"Spencer, truth or dare?" Luke asks him, a few rounds in.
"Truth." He takes the seemingly easier option.
"What's your body count?" He asks with a grin, mostly because it earns a giggle from Penelope.
Spencer frowns. "Like people I've killed?" He clarifies.
"People you've slept with." JJ corrects after all of you laugh.
"Oh, like five. Wait, six." He counts, less concentrated after some whiskey.
You snort loudly, only aware you have a varying opinion from everyone else when all eyes are on you. "What? Do you guys seriously think he's had sex with more than one person?" You stare at him, profiling him. "Maybe two, tops."
"Damn, kid," Rossi speaks first, everyone else too gobsmacked to say anything. "You don't pull any punches."
Luke hoots with laughter. "She's calling you out, man."
When you brave a glance at Spencer, he doesn't look embarrassed. He just looks pissed, jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed, and you're not going to deny it, but it's attractive.
You're determined to push him further. "It's probably small too." You add, holding up your hands two inches apart.
That only increases the volume of everyone howling with laughter, and it gives Spencer the chance to lean down and whisper in your ear. "Second door on the left of the right hallway, five minutes." He says abruptly, voice lower than usual.
You're too stunned to say anything, and something about how magnetic he is attracts you to go. So in four minutes, you're excusing yourself to the bathroom.
He's already in the bedroom when you get there, arms crossed over his chest. Clearly, his anger didn't dissipate.
"Hey, Spence." You greet him casually, closing the door behind you. "Bring me in here to prove to me that it's tiny?"
"Shut up." He tells you, stepping closer until your toes are almost touching. "Just shut the fuck up."
The next words out of your mouth surprise you more than they surprise him. He is a profiler, after all. "Make me." You say.
His lips are so close to you that it takes a millisecond for him to be kissing you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat. His hands are all over your face, pulling you closer to him with his large fingers wrapped around the base of your neck. It's sloppy and wet, and really fucking hot.
It's a flurry to get your clothes off, both of you pulling apart after a long, passionate kiss, your thoughts tracking to the same place. They lay discarded on the floor as he pushes you onto the mattress, wasting no time getting inside you.
"Fuck, you must have watched some porn because you know what you're doing." You tease, made a little bit more difficult with his deep thrusts.
He growls against your neck. "Real-life experience, sweetheart." He whispers before biting at your skin.
"Don't- fuck- believe you." You retort.
"Can't even argue with me without moaning, huh?" Spencer asks before tutting, "pathetic." You wiggle closer, rolling your hits with him. "Like right now, I can tell you need more."
You scoff, but it's more of a moan. "Are you going to give it to me then?"
Spencer picks your thighs up, wrapping them over his shoulder and thrusting even deeper inside of you. "God, if I knew it would be this easy to shut you up, I would have done this a long time ago."
"You just never had the balls." You tell him.
"Got them now, don't I?" He reminds you, slamming into you. You can feel yourself getting closer, and he knows it too by your clenching around him. "Want to cum?" He offers.
You nod frantically. "Please." You babble. It's desperate, but when he fucks you so well, you can't help it.
"Tell me it's big." He demands.
"Fuck, Spencer, it's big. I'm sorry, it's so big, and you're really good at this." You say quickly, not wanting him to move the goalpost on your orgasm.
His fingers quickly circle your clit, and you're coming in no time, triggering his release on your stomach when he pulls out.
"So?" He asks once he's flopped down on the bed next to you. "Was it actually okay?"
"Phenomenal." You assure him, dragging your finger through his cum on your skin. "I'm eating my words."
He chuckles at your idiom. "You're cute, you know?" He tells you sincerely and affectionately. "I can make you eat more of your words if you like."
You nod. "I would like that."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#criminal minds smut
947 notes
·
View notes
Text
If You Let Me (Badda Boom Universe)
Alpha!Jax Teller x Omega!POC!Reader "LuLu"
Summary:
Flashback to that time when you confessed your love during a jam session in the backyard unaware that Jax and Opie can hear you through his open window and things took a turn you weren't expecting.
Warnings:
Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Jax Teller, Accidental Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Marriage, Pregnancy
Notes:
Hello Heathens, I've decided that anytime these two have a story for me to write about them, I am going to add it as a chapter to their saga. This story is heavily inspired by the song "If You Let Me" by Sinead Harnett. (A link to the song will be in the story) Happy Reading!
Banner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics
Your recent hook up with Jax is fresh on your mind.
Granted, it was a week ago when he was “off again” with Tara before you found them back together just days later. It’s a semi-normal thing you've learned to deal with since you were teenagers.
You know loving him the way you do is painful, but you can't seem to help yourself. He’s had your heart since you were preteens and all those lovely hormones kicked in. His scent is the only one that has made you weak in the knees from just one hit. But you’ll only ever be his Little Moon, the girl who is dependable, always there whenever and for whatever he needs.
Ruts included.
You aren't fooling yourself thinking that someday he will truly be yours, your collarbone sporting his claim. So you keep yourself open to interested parties and have racked up quite the body count. But no one has hijacked your heart, or satiated your heats, like Jax has.
Well, that’s not true. Ari came pretty close to taking the role of Alpha in your life. Just when you thought you could possibly take things further with him, he got a job offer overseas he couldn’t pass up. That’s where things ended, just over a year ago. The universe loved to torment you.
Seeing Jax a couple days ago at the clubhouse, Tara hanging all over him, was all the reminder of your place that you needed. So you're spending your day off with Diamond, out in the sunshine on your back porch. Medicating your soul with your dear friend THC.
“Girl when are you going to get over that boy? The dick must be amazing for you to keep going back knowing he isn't going to pick you. I don’t care how good he smells to you.” Your best friend protests.
“I’m not going to bother trying to explain it to you again. My love for him isn't conditional. His scent is the one thing that always calms me. When we hook up, great, when we're just hanging out at the clubhouse, great. No matter who is there. It is what it is, D. I’m not trippin over it. So neither should you.”
“You’re telling me you dont want more?”
You let out a deep sigh. “Of course I do. But there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s how unrequited love works.”
“Alright then. If you say so. But answer me this one question.”
“Shoot.”
“How do you manage all these pent up feelings without lashing out?”
“Easy. Like this.” You take a hit off the joint and start strumming on the acoustic guitar in your lap.
The Ganja begins to steadily course through your system, loosening your tongue and helping you purge all the pent up emotions you’ve been bottling up. Your surroundings disappear as your voice is carried on the wind to Opie’s open kitchen window, where he’s handing an exacerbated Jax a beer.
“Is it for good this time?” Op asks.
“She’s leaving again. So yeah. It’s for good.” He takes a sip of his beer. “At least for me it is. I really am getting too old for this back and forth shit.”
“I’m sure the fact she’s a beta doesn't help. Especially when you surround yourself with a certain little Omega.”
“I’ve known LuLu my whole life, man. If Gemma hasn’t run her off, Tara certainly isn’t keeping her from me.”
“Ya finally gonna do something about that, now that you're a free man?”
“What do you mean?” He pulls a cigarette out of his pack with his teeth and proceeds to light it. “We just hooked up last week.”
“I meant to make it more official than just hooking up when you need a tight place to stick your knot.”
“But she takes it so well man.” He smirks, tilting his head as a sound catches his attention. “Do you hear that music?”
“Probably Lulu out in her backyard.” Op supplies. “Must be high too, for her voice to carry this clearly.”
He gets up from the table and heads to the open window that has a perfect view of your backyard. There he finds you, sitting on the porch with Diamond. Your eyes are closed, fingers strumming along your beloved acoustic, emotion clear on your beautiful face as he soaks in the words you're serenading.
“I wonder who she’s singing about.” He thinks aloud.
“You can not be that dense man.” Op chuckles out.
“What are you talking about?” His eyes never leave your backyard.
Opie shakes his head. “I’m sure it’ll come to you. If not, just go over and ask her.”
Your mouth watering scent, along with your sweet voice, wafts in through the window. He can’t help but feel a pull towards you as he takes a deep inhale, allowing your last notes to sink in. He carefully watches as you look at Diamond, a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes gracing your face.
“Damn girl, you’ve got it bad. You weren’t kidding about it being unconditional. Jax is one lucky son of a bitch and he doesn't even realize it.” Diamond declares through a plume of smoke.
“Like I said before. It is what it is. Just because he checks all my mate boxes, doesn't mean I check all of his.” You swallow, placing the guitar next to you and taking back the joint offered to you. “I can’t wait around for life to find a way. So, I enjoy what I am given.”
“You’re too damn precious for this world girl. Fuck I wish I had just a sliver of your patience and self resolve.”
“Oh, no. I’m still a petty bitch. Don’t get it twisted. I hate the fact that he chooses her over me. I just don’t see the sense in wasting energy on it.” You take a hit. “He’s had more than a taste. Not to mention he’s a full grown Alpha. If he wants more, nothing’s stopping him but him.” You exhale, letting the smoke slowly leak out of your mouth and into the air.
“Is that right, Little Moon?” You turn towards the voice of the Alpha in question as he walks up your porch steps.
Unafraid of the truths you now know he just heard you hold your head high. “Sure is. But it’s of no matter at the moment is it? You belong to someone else.”
“She ended it today actually.” He confesses. “She leaves for Seattle tomorrow morning.”
“She never really could stand Charming for long. Always chasing something better.” You relay.
“I have to agree with you there. But it at least frees me up again.” He gives you that devilish smile.
“You could have been free at any time, Jackson. You chose to embrace your gilded cage.” You coolly state.
“Shiiiit, Mary Jane’s got you extra poetic in your pettiness today. I love it!” Diamond laughs out.
“Aw come on Darlin’. Here I was, having heard your little concert, thinking maybe I’d find you being all soft and sweet.” He play pouts.
“I’m not in the mood for your games or to ruin my high Jackson. So please, just say what you have to say.”
“You sure about that Omega? Even with Diamond present.” He nods towards your bestie.
You narrow your eyes in his direction. “I have nothing to hide from her. I’m waiting.”
“Alright.” He crosses the deck, cups your face in his ringed hands and pulls you up to his face, laying a devastating kiss to your lips. Your synapses go haywire as his strong scent envelops you, allowing a whimper to escape your throat. His hands glide down to your waist, where he lifts you up so that he can switch positions with you.
Your thighs are now splayed across his denim covered lap, loose shirt raised to your waist, exposing the tiny shorts you were wearing underneath as he leans back into your former seat. He breaks the kiss, a smug look on his face as he looks up into your glazed over eyes. “That’s better.”
He runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Diamond, I’m going to need you to give me and my Omega some space. Op’s next door if you don't want to go home. Choice is yours.”
“Your Omega.” You whisper, in confusion.
“You heard me correctly.” His eyes remain on you.
“Oooooh bitch, Imma bounce. Even though it looks like this is gonna be good.” Diamond grabs her bag. “I expect a full report first chance you get. Which by the look on his face isn't going to be til at least tomorrow. Love ya girl. Bye.” She scurries off.
“Bye.” You wave to her, your eyes never leaving the Alpha below you.
“You and I have some things we need to work out. Are you up for it Little Moon?”
“Does this have something to do with you overhearing me singing?”
“That’s part of it.”
You sigh. “Okay. Give me your worst.”
He grabs the waistband of your shorts, snapping them against your skin. "First I need these off of you. We're gonna have this talk with you warming my cock so you understand just how serious I am."
With a determined look and slick quickly dampening the crotch of your shorts, you stand up on shaky legs. With an initial push down over your ass, you shimmy them the rest of the way before taking a step out and kicking them off to the side.
His eyes devour your bare lower half, biting his lip as he runs a palm along the bulge in his jeans. “Mmm. Good girl. You really would do anything for me huh?” He hits you with his dazzling smile, the one that always has you weak in the knees. “Come here and unzip me, Omega. I want you to pull me out and sit on the evidence of what your scent does to me, darlin’.”
You can feel your slick beginning to slowly leak down onto your thighs, perfuming the air further with your scent. You squeeze them together before stepping forward and doing as your Alpha requested. You bend over at the hip, ghosting your fingers down his torso until you reach the tented denim, releasing his hard length to the light of day. With a quick squeeze to his base, you straddle his lap and slowly lower yourself down onto his thick cock, letting it fill you up inch by inch.
He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at the possessiveness and lust swirling in his Cobalt blues. Drawing in a deep breath, your lids become heavy, you can’t help but lose yourself in how good his mouth watering scent mixes with your own sweet essence. As you reopen your eyes, he places a soft kiss on your lips, sliding his hand down to wrap around your throat. "Now be a good little Omega for me and pay attention to what I have to tell you."
You nod your agreement. Your tongue, incapable of forming words at the moment.
“I was next door at Op’s, shooting the shit in the kitchen. Downloading him on all this Tara business. When this music drifts in through the window that faces your backyard.” He pushes his thumb under your chin. “Imagine my surprise when Op tells me it’s probably just you playing around out back.”
You swallow against his fingers. “You heard me.”
“Oh yes, Little Moon. I heard every sweet and tortured word you sang.” He smirks at you. “At first I thought you were just singing to sing. Though the words did sound a bit like a confession. It wasn’t until you finished and Diamond got to chatting that I connected the dots. All those precious words were about me.”
"Yes." You whisper out.
"And here I was, getting called out by Op right before the universe comes and drops a neon sign pointed in your direction." He licks his parched lips. "I originally came over here to tease you about getting high and serenading the neighborhood.” He chuckles to himself. “After hearing you say it wasn’t worth the energy to wait around for me and then still called me out on it when I showed up. Well, darlin' I knew I had to rectify that."
"So that's what this little show of Dominance is all about then? Witnessing the power you as a whole have over me?” You give him a challenging look.
“Not at all.” Unbothered by your accusing tone, he caresses your neck, fingers dipping down until they ghost along your collarbone. “This is all to make it clear where I stand. I heard you loud and clear, Omega. No more dancing around it. I’m taking what’s rightfully mine.” He growls out.
You involuntarily clench around the girth settled deep inside of you as his words register, making him practically purr at the feeling.
“Fuck it. Move your hips Omega. I need you to continue being a good girl and let me watch you ride your Alpha.”
Your eyes alight at his command. You swivel your hips, slowly grinding against him in a figure eight pattern, losing yourself in how full you feel, walls gripping on to his thickness.
You raise up and start to bounce on his lap, his hand returning to your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. The sweet pressure, muffling your moans. "That's it. You look fucking gorgeous when you ride me. Your tight little cunt was made for taking my knot. And you’re going to let me stuff you full of it aren't you."
You can feel the stirrings of an epic orgasm on the horizon. He removes his hand from your throat, gliding his fingers down your torso to start rubbing your clit in tight little circles. You gasp out, head tilting back, hands gripping tightly to his shoulders. You’re right on the knife's edge, rapidly hurtling towards your own climax.
"Fuuuuck, baby you're so close. I can feel your sweet little pussy trying to make me pop my knot. Gonna cum all over my fat cock, Omega?" You moan out, head bobbing, lost in a haze of lust. "I can’t hear you, ‘mega. Use your words baby. Do. You. Want. To. Cum. On. My. Cock?"
"YES! Please, Alpha. Please. I want to cum all over your cock, make a mess just for you." You beg, uncaring of who might hear you.
A low growl vibrates through his chest. "There's my sexy little Omega. Begging so pretty for her Alpha." His fingers, dancing along your clit, quicken, causing the grind of your hips to increase.
"Now!” He grits out with a strong thrust of his hips up into you. “Cum for me right now, Omega. Want to feel this tight cunt of yours clamping down on my dick like a vice."
His command was all you needed to let go and fall head first into a mind numbing orgasm. You rest your forehead against his, as you let out a deep guttural moan. Nails digging into his shoulders as you writhe and squirm in his lap, riding each wave of ecstasy.
He pulls you in closer, kissing you to muffle your screams. You do have some pretty nosy neighbors afterall. His tongue dances with yours, setting you off once again. Or did you ever stop? Honestly who cares at this point. You find yourself chasing his lips as he breaks the kiss.
"Such a perfect Omega. Cumming so hard for her Alpha. Gonna let me fill ya up, baby? Cum so deep you'll be feeling me leaking out of you for days?"
You whine at the images his words create. "Yes. Please. I want you to fill me up so badly, Alpha. Need your knot." You plead with a twist of your hips.
Gripping your waist, he pumps up into you at an erratic pace. “Fuck baby, I’m right there.”
You grab his face, leaning down to smash your lips against his. Your tongues fight for dominance as he groans out, knot popping as he thrusts in deep, locking you together as he paints your womb white with his seed. Your velvety walls, milking every last drop he has to give you.
You find yourself smiling, as you hum your pleasure at being filled, against his lips. He pulls back slightly, trailing kisses down your neck, until they rest against your collarbone. Running his teeth along your skin, lips latching on and breaking various blood vessels with his suction. Leaving behind his temporary claim.
“Couldn’t help myself. Had to leave my mark somehow, darlin’.” He kisses the darkened, tender flesh. “When my teeth do finally sink in. Breaking your skin for the first time. You are going to be lying blissed out beneath me in bed, with my knot deep inside you. Not riding me in the backyard.”
“Don’t keep me waiting too long this time, Jackson.” You tease.
After you both caught your breath and cleaned yourselves up, you decide to enjoy the rest of your day off together. Smoking a fresh rolled joint, enjoying some great takeout, and watching movies until you fall asleep cuddled together on the couch.
Both of you awakened once the sun broke through the curtains and into your eyes. This has never happened before. One of you always leaves before the other wakes up. You have to admit it feels right waking up wrapped in his arms.
“So, Little Moon. How do pancakes sound?”
Damn why does his voice have to be all deep and husky first thing in the morning.
You shake out the naughty thoughts running through your mind. There’ll be time for that later. “That sounds great to me as long as you can get Opie to make them instead of me.”
“It’s the least he can do after the free show I’m sure we gave him.”
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
BEE’S TOP 20 BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER EPISODES EVER:
20. S4 E1, The Freshman
Sunday and her gang are just so much fun to watch. I wish there were more fun vampire stoner-types in the show. I love the whole college allegory with Giles leaving Buffy to figure things out on her own. especially showing how she goes from being scared to realizing she does actually have the power to survive without an adult watching over her. Also I think about the klimt poster game every time I see a college dorm now.
19. S1 E9, The Puppet Show
The first (and only?) Buffy episode to ever genuinely scare me. I watched it late at night, alone in my room in the dark when no one else was awake. I don’t fuck with doll horror movies. The puppet skittering about Buffy’s room made me tremble. Also I just love anything theatre related and watching Giles very poorly do a magic circle was fun. And! Framing Snyder as a villain was such a good choice. And I think about him saying “I don’t get it” at the end of the ep a lot. Just really fun in general.
18. S1 E12, Prophecy Girl
“I may be dead, but I’m still pretty.” Her outfit is iconic. Her reaction to finding out she’s going to die is heartbreaking and realistic. I love that Xander is the one to revive her, forever cementing him as one of Buffy’s best friends and a crucial part of the gang.
17. S3 E20, The Prom
The class protector award will always make me tear up, like fuck. people in a town that actively ignores the horrors acknowledged that Buffy was keeping them safe from the horrors. she deserved that moment so much.
16. S3 E13, The Zeppo
I am a Xander apologist and I’m not afraid to say it. This episode is so fucking funny. I love getting to see what goes on in the background of every Buffy episode. I think it adds so much more to Xander’s character to know that he gets left out of the main plot and has his own wacky adventures that he doesn’t talk or brag about. He is the epitome of Just A Guy. He knows he isn’t like Buffy and the rest of the scoobies, but he also knows he can be just as brave as them. The moment where he’s in the basement and smiling about the bomb about to go off, “I like the quiet,” shakes me so much. Iconic.
15. S2 E6, Halloween
Ethan Rayne’s first appearance! I love how kitschy it feels. willow’s costume is gorgeous.
14. S6 E16, Hell’s Bells
Jesus fucking christ. The portrayal of dysfunctional families is just spot on. Anya looks stunning the entire time. Xander choosing to walk out because he loves Anya too much to even risk following in his family’s footsteps and abusing her is so heartbreakingly real. Is Xander in the wrong for ever letting their relationship get this far when he had doubts? ABSOLUTELY. Also the scene when Anya walks down the aisle crying makes me want to sob, it’s such a perfect shot. Ughh
13. S6 E8, Tabula Rasa
fun amnesia episode! I love seeing what’s inside the characters when they don’t remember anything about themselves. the loan shark bit is so stupid and funny. Giles and Spike having a father/son relationship is perfect. “RANDY GILES??!?? might as well call me desperate for a shag Giles.” also “a vampire with a soul? God, how lame is that?”
12. S4 E12, A New Man
This was the first Buffy episode I ever saw! Caught it on tv and fell in love. I remember watching willow and tara float the rose and thinking “gay.” Then I saw Giles and ethan laugh together over drinks after he, like pinned Ethan down in a crypt and I thought “gay.” And you know what, I was right on both fronts. Also spike crashing the car is so funny.
11. S2 E7, Lie To Me
Everyone talks about wanting to see more of ford, and we get to see more of the main girl, but all I want is Diego/marvin content. I love his stupid sparkly blue cape. I also love how Buffy reacts to finding out ford has cancer; “I’ll kill you myself.” Being in a horrible situation doesn’t excuse the horrible crime you’re about to commit! He’s just a very well written character
10. S7 E15, Get It Done
After watching this, I had to lie down for a moment because it was so much and I cried (which I rarely do with tv shows). The origins of the slayer just fucking wrecked me. The first slayer was just a girl who was violated and used.
9. S2 E22, Becoming pt. 2
Genuinely just one of the best season finales of all time. They perfectly took away everything Buffy had and brought her to the point of no return. The part when Angel asks her “what’s left?” before attempting to stab her with the sword, but Buffy shuts her eyes and perfectly catches it and says “me” is the most breathtaking, iconic scene ever. Gut wrenching and absolutely devastating.
8. S7 E7, Conversations With Dead People
Willow’s conversation with Cassie is so jarring. Buffy’s conversation is so so great and fun. Also “mommy’s milk is red today” is such an INSANE thing to write.
7. S2 E19, I Only Have Eyes For You
I love the concept that a haunting is just a house re-enacting a terrible night over and over again to try and understand what happened to it. This is extremely similar. Just a guy replaying his greatest and final mistake in an attempt to gain forgiveness, to somehow make everything turn out all right because he can’t live or die with that guilt. And the connection to Buffy and Angel’s relationship is just the cherry on top.
6. S2 E17, Passion
I’m a sucker for Angel’s monologue in this one. The scene where he kills Jenny is just, so. Her death perfectly shows how serious things have gotten. All the fun and games are over. Having Giles find her in his bed is absolutely sickening, but I love how they set up the fact that Giles has never seen Angel’s letters until then, he isn’t aware that’s the paper and handwriting from Angel and not Jenny. Also the shot where Willow and Buffy find out that she’s dead is great. I love that we see it from outside the house, looking in.
5. S4 E10, Hush
Astonishing that one of the greatest episodes has extremely little dialogue. the end from Riley’s perspective is just that his girlfriend screamed and the heads of these demons exploded… did he think she had like a banshee scream ability?? I would’ve. Giles’ drawings are so fun
4. S5 E7, Fool for Love
“I’ve always been bad” -jump cut to spike writing bad poetry. I love the little detail that Halfrek was the girl who turned down spike in 1880. The entire subway scene is perfect. Every slayer has a death wish. Buffy saying “you’re beneath me” is so perfectly cruel, and throwing the money is too. the end with spike going to kill Buffy then seeing her upset and comforting her is just a perfect picture of their entire relationship.
3. S4 E22, Restless
“Props?” “No.” “Props?” “YES!” Death of a salesman should have a cowboy in it, actually. Spike selling himself out as an attraction is so believable. like yeah, he would love to be photographed all the time by admirers.
2. S5 E16, The Body
One of the best portrayals of grief I’ve ever seen.
1. S6 E7, Once More With Feeling
Duh. I rewatch this episode A LOT. Anya and Xander’s song gets stuck in my head pretty regularly. I listen to the music on spotify. Hinton Battle kills. I recently watched this with my friend who does ballet and she said Dawn’s dance was really good! BROADWAY LEGEND HINTON BATTLE!!! Spike and Buffy’s kiss at the end is so perfectly built up and executed. Just an absolute masterpiece.
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unbeknownst
Summary: He told her she knew
Word count: 782
Can also be read here on Ao3
“So… you and Luke?” Penelope asked cautiously. “Is that a thing?”
She and Teresa had become something akin to friends, and often got coffee together. Penelope had been pestering Luke on this subject, but he was very insistent they were just friends. She didn’t buy it, however. The way Teresa had howled at him? That had to mean something. She told herself the weird, icky feeling she had about it was only because of the potential stickiness this could add to an already sticky situation. It wasn't jealousy.
Teresa scoffed in response. “Me and Luke? Absolutely not. We are just friends. Sure, army guys are my type, but A: he’s too old for me, and B: I’d never start something with someone who’s obviously in love with their friend and admits it.”
To say Penelope’s jaw dropped would be an understatement. “Luke’s in love with someone? Who? Tara?”
Teresa’s brows scrunched together. “Who’s Tara? No. You, duh.”
Penelope’s heart skipped a beat, then started to hammer. “What do you mean me, duh? Nothing about that is duh!”
“But… he said you knew.”
“What?”
“I called him out for having feelings for you but not doing anything about it, and he said, and I quote, no, she knows I love her. He even put an emphasis on the knows. He said, she knows I love her.”
Penelope felt like a fish out of water. She was gasping, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t even begin to process what she was hearing. “He… he has never said those words to me. In any capacity. I mean, he hasn’t even said it platonically! I knew, of course, it went without saying. But that’s not what you guys were talking about. Right?”
Teresa shook her head. “No. He loves you loves you. “
Penelope winced, thinking about how her horrid behavior lately must have hurt him. “He didn’t happen to mention how long, did he?”
Teresa bit the inside of her cheek and tilted her head back, thinking. “I mean, he mentioned an awkward date? So I guess around then? When was that?”
“Three years ago,” Penelope admitted, feeling awful.
“Ha! The fucking liar.”
Penelope tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Teresa shook her head, laughing. “He told me that date was a ‘hard pass’ for both of you. Lies. You don’t stay in love with a hard pass for three years. I think he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince me.”
“I can’t believe this. Luke… loves me. And he thought I knew. Oh god he thought I knew and then did all the things I did anyway… how does he not hate me?”
Teresa looked very concerned. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not.”
***
Penelope was pacing, fidgeting with and flapping her hands as she waited for Luke to arrive. She had taken two days after Teresa’s revelation to process what she had learned. To decide how she felt. Once she knew what she needed to say to him, she messaged Luke and asked him to come over because she had something she wanted to talk to him about. He told her he’d be right over. Of course he would. He loves you.
Her doorbell rang, and when she checked the camera, there he was with that glowing smile. He loves you.
She let him in, and he clocked her tense mood immediately. He loves you.
“Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?”
He loves you. “You love me?”
He looked somewhat confused. “Didn’t you know that?”
“I do now!” He loves you. He loves you. He loves you. He loves you. “Now that Teresa told me! Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you tell her? Why did you tell her I knew?”
“I thought you did! I thought it was obvious.”
He. Loves. You. She was getting hysterical. “It wasn’t to me!”
Luke almost deflated. “Oh. I’m sorry. I tried to make it obvious.”
He loves you. And he really did. She could tell. He wasn’t trying to deny it, or hide it, he wasn’t upset that she knew. He admitted it openly. He was at peace with it. She swore he looked happy about it. He loves you.
“Why me?” He loves you.
“Why not you?” He loves you.
The tears she had been holding back finally broke free, but instead of crumpling, she went to him. Threw her arms around him. He loves you.
He held her back. He loves you.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. He loves you. “I know I’ve hurt you, I never meant to, I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.” He loves you.
She kissed him. He loves you.
You love him too.
#garvez#garvez fanfiction#luke alvez#penelope garcia#criminal minds#criminal minds reboot#criminal minds evolution#criminal minds fanfiction#teresa campos
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
I hope sharing the thought that just came through my tired brain is okay. Have you ever imagined a Ncis x Criminal Minds crossover? What do you think the dynamics could be between the characters? Especially Alex/Jack or Jack/Tara or Jack/Emily? Just curious to hear your thoughts if you have any!
Also hope you're doing as fine as can be!
yes i love thoughts please always share! ooh i used to think about it back in my ncis days!!
A Jack/Tara friendship I think would be really amazing. As they’re both forensic psychologists I think they’d bond over that, despite having chosen very different carers I think they’d enjoy having someone to talk to about the lack of emotional intelligence amongst the FBI/NCIS. Plus drinking and poker games!! hell yes, both competitive and not gonna give up until the others lost.
Jack/Alex! Book club besties, they recommend books to each other, have lunch dates. Get along well but definitely can bicker if they don’t agree over something. I’ve decided they’ve been friends for years, since their early 20s. they can have heated arguments but they get over it pretty quick, neither wanting to hold a grudge. (also there’s definitely sexual chemistry there).
Jack/Emily! They get along, they interact on cases and both have a good sense of humour so they make each other laugh. And then when Tara and Emily get together (because obviously I have to add Temily) Tara invites Emily to poker nights with Jack and they properly hit it off. They bond over good alcohol and food and all three of them spend the night laughing.
#thank you very much for this i had a lot of fun!!#criminal minds#ncis#emily prentiss#jack sloane#alex blake#tara lewis#temily#anon#kt answers
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
CM Unpopular Opinions
Just a couple of weeks out from the new season, the new trailer just dropped, and people are getting hyped. For last season, I made a CME predictions post (which mostly came to pass, bc this show is so predictable) -- but this season, I'm going to post some unpopular opinions going into S17. Don't like, don't read.
WILL. Since we know Will won't be in this season, there have been speculations that JJ/Will will be getting a divorce, or that Will is going to die. I do NOT want Will to die. I hate that guy, I've never liked his character, but you know who I do love? JJ. She has already been through SO much, I do NOT want Hotch 2.0 in S17. I don't want Will to die, because that would be like ripping half of JJ's soul out of her chest and she deserves better. What I actually think will happen -- is just that Will is going back to being an off-screen partner like he was for most of the series.
JEMILY. I've already written my thoughts on Paget's Jemily hints on social media and why I think that's simply queerbaiting. There's no way Jemily is going to be canon, and I am HAPPY about that. I don't want Jemily to be canon!! Look at how this show treats canon relationships!! How many female romantic interests have been tortured and killed???? Why would I ever want Jemily in that crossfire? Also, as a fanfic author who has been writing Jemily for the past decade -- I don't want them to become canon, because that will squander so much creative potential. Fic authors fill in the gaps and subtext of canon, that's our job, when a relationship becomes canon it really loses it's appeal. That being said, I would love to actually see Emily and JJ interacting again. S16 really ignored their decade-long friendship altogether. Shit, I would love to just see them in the same fricking scene again.
REBECCA. All I want is for Rebecca to survive this season. As mentioned above, the way this show treats romantic interests of main characters is HORRIBLE. I'm forever furious with how the show handled Tara/Rebecca's relationship last season. I know fans hated Rebecca for getting pissed at Tara, but I still don't agree. What I do hate is how as soon as Tara's queerness served it's plot point (getting the inmate to admit he's gay too) -- the show nuked Tara's relationship altogether. I seriously love Rebecca, I think she adds a lot to the show. And since we already know Rebecca is in S17, I would LOVE to see Tara/Rebecca sit down and actually talk through their issues (like real adults!). I would LOVE for them to get the happy ending they deserve.
GARCIA'S ROMANCE. For real, I do not care about any of this love triangle bullshit with Garcia between Tyler and Luke or whatever tf is happening. I seriously hated what they did to Garcia's character in S16, it felt like they completely erased the prior 15 years from her character and replaced it with the most basic hetnormative romance plot. I don't ship Garvez (nor her and Tyler), so I don't really care about that side of things. But I would LOVE to get our Garcia back. I miss her so much.
RETURNING CHARACTER RUMORS. If one of the past cast members comes back in S17 I do not want it to be MGG. CME already focused an entire season on Rossi's man-pain (literally the only reason they killed Krystal was for him to be angry 🙃). I do NOT want another season of white-male centric plot lines (even though that's clearly what's gonna happen with Voight) If anyone actually comes back to guest, I want it to either be Matt or Derek. Alternatively, I do have a crack theory that the unsub/Gold Star is actually Elle Greenaway. A trained government assassin, she became a vigilante after leaving the BAU and she's been operating for all these years without detection. Now THAT would be a good twist.
Listen, overall, I'm not looking forward to another season of Evolution. I think they're trying way too hard to turn CM into some edgy, gritty, Norwegian-type crime drama and in doing so, they've ruined some of my favourite characters irrevocably. I don't have high hopes for S17.
#criminal minds#cm evolution#emily prentiss#rebecca wilson#tara lewis#tebecca#jennifer jareau#jemily#penelope garcia#cm commentary#cm meta#cm s17
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 ⌯ 𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲
Ethan Landry x Gender Neutral!Reader
Killing you wasn't a part of the grand plan between him and his family. But they had other ideas.
In which Ethan must make a choice.
warnings: death, major character death, murder, gore, blood, descriptions of murder, coarse language.
word count: 1300
author's note: I didn't feel like proofreading this tbh so I'm sorry if it flows weird or if details are messy. had a family death this morning and I'm coping by writing angst lol but I hope you all enjoy this.
masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.
It’s the grand finale of Ethan and his sister and father’s plan. They are going to get the ultimate revenge for Tara and Sam killing their beloved brother, Richie. And it doesn’t matter who gets in their way- except you. Ethan explicitly told Quinn and Wayne that you are stubborn and would probably try and prevent them from hurting Sam and Tara. They know how much Ethan cares about you, so they agree to make sure to leave you alone and unharmed. But that doesn’t go as planned. Wayne always had a weird gut feeling about you. He always thought that if you ever found out who Ethan and his family really were, you’d tell someone and would hate Ethan. Quinn doesn’t like anyone who dates her brother because none of them are good enough. So, both Quinn and Wayne agree to ignore Ethan’s pleas for your mercy because why do you deserve it so much?
Your heart is roaring in your ears as you stand in from of Tara and Sam, pleading with the now-revealed killers to spare the sisters and take you for a bargain instead.
“You don’t have to kill me. You don’t have to kill them, either. The police know I’m Ethan’s partner, and when they find out he’s one of the killers, they’ll do anything to keep me alive. Anything,” you beg, trying your best to get to Wayne by staring at him with tears in your eyes.
“I love Ethan. And I know he’s doing this for his brother, and so are you. But you don’t have to kill them. Just take me, and we can get out of here,” you say, and you can see Quinn’s face turn in disgust.
“Shut up, bitch!” she says, striking you across the face with her knife, leaving a nasty slice mark on your cheek, “You don’t shit about Richie. So stop your begging and whining.”
“I know everything. Ethan told me everything except his name and what he did. I know what he was like, and before his obsession, he wouldn’t have wanted this,” you grasp your cheek, blood gushing out between your fingers.
Quinn lurches for you, but Ethan grabs her by the hair and yanks her backward, “Leave them alone, Quinn! What did I tell you?” he growls in her ear with gritted teeth.
“Forget what he told you, Quinn,” Wayne mutters, his eyes not leaving yours, “This person claims to know Richie. Well, since you know him so well, you’d know he fought for what he wanted. And he wanted Samantha dead and everyone around her to suffer. So it’s your turn, I’m afraid.”
You back into Sam and Tara, your arms out to protect them behind you completely. The three of you back up until you’re near the stage platform. But then you realize you can’t go anywhere. The only way you were getting out of this was if Ethan killed his sister and father, and no one was worth that much by any means. And you understand that.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, Ethan thought. They were supposed to avoid you altogether.
Wayne moves forward quickly, snatching you by your shirt collar and pulling you to him. He spins you so your back is pressed to his chest, his knife pressed dangerously hard to your neck. Your hands struggle at Wayne’s arms as you try your best to tear them away from your body.
“Stop struggling, or I’ll cut your fingers off,” Quinn snarls, pulling your arms down and holding them together at your stomach.
Quinn presses her own knife to your wrists, waiting for you to dare even to struggle. Ethan stands in front of you, hopelessness crossing his face. He doesn’t move, fearing that his family will cut you to pieces.
“Please,” Ethan whispers, “Don’t hurt them.”
“Oh, we won’t,” Quinn says, “But you will.”
Ethan’s blood runs cold, “What?”
“Ethan, you’re doing the honors,” Wayne smiles.
“No,” Ethan says, tears running down his face as he glances at Sam and Tara, who are holding each other, trying to devise a plan. They simply stare back at him with a bit of sympathy in their eyes.
“Would you rather both of us have our way with them? I don’t think you do, Ethan,” Quinn trails a finger down your face.
You tremble in terror, trying not to move a muscle, fearing you’ll be killed without a single thought. You look at Ethan, at first, with a pleading look to spare you. Then, upon realizing there was nothing either of you could do, you look at him with defeat and acceptance.
“It’s okay, E,” you whisper, “I’ll be fine.”
Ethan grasps his hair with his hands, his knife still in his dominant hand, “Fuck.”
“Hurry and make a choice Ethan,” Wayne says, not knowing that Kirby is slowly approaching them from behind.
But Ethan doesn’t see her. He takes a deep breath before closing his eyes, “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you cry.
You gasp as a knife plunges into your sternum, pain radiating across your body from the impact. Kirby takes this opportunity to attack Wayne from behind and successfully does so. But Quinn grabs hold of you and backs away before Kirby can touch her. She has a blade to your neck once more.
You’re desperately gasping for air as your hands press against your sternum as hard as possible to keep the blood inside you.
“Why won’t you just die already?” Quinn screams in your ear, backing up as Kirby threatens her with the gun pointed.
“Keep moving, and I’ll slice their throat open,” the redhead seethes.
“Quinn, please,” Ethan weakly pleads with his hands up. Tara and Sam have taken Wayne’s knife and are now prepared to stab him at any given moment, “It’s over.”
“I don’t care if I die,” Quinn says proudly, “Richie would’ve wanted this.”
Everyone watches in horror as Quinn swipes the blade across your neck swiftly. You fall to the floor, hands flying to your neck wound as you hopelessly try to keep it closed to no avail. You look to Ethan, who is now running to you. Tara and Sam let him, knowing he wasn’t planning on hurting anyone else anymore.
“I’m so sorry,” Ethan sobs, running his hand through your hair, “It wasn’t supposed to be you.”
As blood curdles in your throat and you begin choking on the metallic liquid, you let go of your neck and shakily place your hand on Ethan’s face. The light leaves your eyes as you finally give in to the embrace of death. Sam, Tara, and Kirby have successfully subdued Quinn, who is now laughing as she fights her restraints.
Ethan ignores her and slowly looks up at Kirby, who is standing above you and him, gun aimed at his head.
“Kill me,” Ethan says weakly, “Please.”
Kirby shakes her head, “As much as I’d like to, I can’t do that.”
“Just fucking do it, please! I can’t live without them and know this is my fault!”
Kirby says nothing, and Ethan’s face flashes with anger as he lunges toward Kirby, who fires a fatal shot into his head. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. But it did. And now Ethan lays beside you, blood pooling around his head as the last bit of oxygen in his lungs rushes out. As the adrenaline wears down, Kirby growls in pain as she holds her side where she was stabbed yet again. Tara and Sam rush to her as sirens approach outside. Quinn is now silent as she stares at her father, who is passed out from the previous attack, and her brother, who is now dead.
Tara sits on the floor next to you, softly closing your eyelids.
taglist:
@nicepeony
#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry fanfiction#ethan landry fanfic#ethan landry fic#ethan landry imagine#angst#scream#scream 6#scream 2023#ghostface#ghostface x reader#ghostface x you#ghostface x y/n#ghostface fanfiction#ghostface fanfic#ghostface fic#slasher#slasher fic#floralcyanide writes#tw blood#tw gore#tw death
91 notes
·
View notes