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leighsartworks216 · 25 days ago

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Nyctophobia

Sylus x gn!Reader

I still have to sleep with some sort of light on at night and I was like well what would Sylus think about this. And now here we are

Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, kissing, nyctophobia (fear of the dark), embarrassment, fear, pet names, swearing, implied sexual content, established relationship

Word Count: 2,153

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You feel so fucking stupid. Not because you did something wrong or made a fool of yourself (yet), but because this dumb problem you had was so childish. Even a 10-year-old is braver than you, a literal fucking Hunter!

You pout at the nightlight on your laptop. Sylus’s black card sat on your coffee table, just waiting to be used. And yet, the thought of using a card with access to millions of dollars (perhaps billions), just to buy a nightlight, halted you in your tracks, He hadn’t even said much about anything else you’ve bought before, and what he did say usually encouraged you to buy more expensive, lavish things. Surely, he wouldn’t flinch at this at all.

But that stupid, unrelenting voice in your head made buying the light impossible.

Which sucked.

It really, really sucked.

‘Cuz every time you stay in the N109 Zone in Sylus’s manor-slash-base, your room is so dark. Being in the lawless area doesn’t help, either. All the violence and danger you’d seen walking in the streets at night painted visions of stalkers in the corner, murderers with knives under your bed, and worse, just waiting for you to close your eyes and sleep.

But you don’t want to impose on the nice atmosphere Sylus has cultivated in his home. So you sleep with the light off, clinging to your blankets and telling yourself over and over again that nobody else is in the room.

Your phone buzzing interrupts your pity party. You shut your laptop and place it on the table next to the card. It buzzes again as you pick it up.

What’s wrong, sweetie?

I’ve only seen you make that face when a plushie falls out of the claw

You look up at your window. Sure enough, Mephisto’s red eyes greet you.

Stop spying on me >:(

Fine

The mechanical crow disappears from sight. You can just barely hear his caws as he flies off back to the N109 Zone.

But my question still stands

It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it

Sweetie, if someone says not to worry about something, people are going to worry about it

Damn him for giving you a chance to tell the truth. And damn your brain for reminding you that if you tell him the truth, he’d probably laugh at you. What does he have to worry about when he sleeps anyway? He’s already a light sleeper, but he also sleeps during the day, when creeps skitter from shadow to shadow. He wouldn’t understand.

Like I said, it’s nothing

Nothing happens for a few moments. The little dots to signify he’s typing don’t even show up. You can’t help wondering what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.

Maybe he’s getting ready to start the night, getting into his car so Luke and Kieran can drive him around to his many business dealings. Or maybe he’s picking out a vinyl from his shelf, taking it from the paper casing with a delicacy only shared with you, and setting it up on his phonograph. Or maybe he’s mimicking you: sitting on the couch, staring at the phone, wondering what to say next.

The dots appear, finally.

Come to the N109 Zone, kitten

Let me cheer you up

If Mephisto was still lurking around, he’d have seen just how fast you packed your things and hopped onto your bike.

Yes, the N109 Zone is dark and scary and extremely dangerous at the best of times. Yes, you’d be forced to sleep in the dark once again. Yes, your mind would play tricks on you and you’d probably stay up all night anyway.

But Sylus is there. And you haven’t seen him for almost a week. Who could blame you for jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him now?

Sylus greets you at the door with an amused smirk. “You got here fast.”

You playfully glare at him, smacking his chest as you pass by. “There wasn’t any traffic,” you tease.

The manor is as dark as usual. If it’s not black, it’s dark red. If it’s not dark red, it’s the occasional white furniture or golden accent.

Sylus trails behind you as you beeline it straight to your room to drop off your stuff. He leans in the doorway as you toss your bag onto the plush bed. “You seem to be in a better mood now,” he hums.

“I always feel better when I get to see you.” You smile up at him. It’s a soft remark. Genuine. Not the usual joking, back-and-forth banter you’re usually all too happy to supply during your visits.

His expression melts into something just as tender. Just as honest. He casually pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the few steps it takes to get to you. His hands cradle you like one of his precious antiques, tilting your face up while he cranes his neck until the world has shrunk to just this moment.

He grins. His eyes keep glancing down at your mouth. You grab onto his waist. Your fingers curl into his soft red sweater, desperate to keep him this close. His lips brush against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

“Then let me make it worth your while.”

It’s still dark when you wake up. The navy blue behind the curtain carries no hint of light, reassuring your sleep-addled brain that there is still plenty of time before day.

You roll over, silk sheets caressing your bare form, fully intending to go right back to sleep. Cold air slips underneath the blanket. You shiver and pull it tighter around you. Without thinking, you reach out toward the other side of the bed. It’s too large for just one person. The bed is cold beneath your fingers, even as you reach out farther.

You blink open your eyes, blearily staring into the darkness, searching for some answer you can quite grasp yet.

What are you reaching for…?

You turn your face into your pillow, determined to ignore that strange feeling in your gut and enjoy the last hours of the night. The rich scent of bourbon and vanilla catch on the edge of your senses. It smells just like Sylus…

You open your eyes again. Where’s Sylus?

Your fingertips brush the edge of the bed as you reach out. A discordant chord of terror strikes in your heart as you quickly pull your hand back. Thoughts of something reaching out to grab you flood your mind. Your heart races, chasing off the last ounces of sleepiness from your body.

You pull the blanket even tighter around you, curling it under your feet and tucking it into your sides until you’re in a cocoon of safety. No matter how hard you strain your eyes, you can’t see anything. But in your mind, everything can see you.

You curl up into a pitiful ball.

You could get up, but you can’t. What if something grabs your ankles?

You could grab your phone, but you can’t. What if something is waiting in ambush and your phone is the bait?

You could do a thousand things to get out of this darkness. But you can’t, for a million reasons.

The door knob slowly turns. The only indication the door has opened at all is the sound of the lower edge brushing against the carpeted floor. No light comes in from the hall. It’s all pitch black. The door clicks shut.

You hold your breath.

Footsteps. Large, heavy footsteps. They don’t stomp. You’re not sure if it would be better if they did. They creep around the side of the bed.

You don’t move.

Weight shifts the mattress. Slowly. Deliberately.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You strain to hear anything else.

Something slides over your blankets.

You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you see spots. You bite your lip to avoid making sound.

The something - a hand, you think - wraps around your waist.

You flinch.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. They’re gonna know you’re awake. They’re gonna cover your mouth or stab you or put a pillow over your face or-

“Kitten?”

Your body shudders as you finally let yourself breathe. You grab your pillow as you quickly sit up and swing it at the face of your lover.

“I thought you were gonna fucking kill me?!”

Sylus laughs, chucking the pillow back onto your side of the bed. You can’t see him in the dark, but your body can’t stop taking in every ounce of him that it can. His smell - the bourbon and vanilla tinged with a natural musk. His voice - that rich, lively sound of his laugh and the breaths he takes. His touch - his hand, trailing patterns over the blanket at your hip.

You crawl toward him, clinging to his chest like a koala. He’s still shirtless from your escapades. His hand slides to your back, pulling you in tighter to him. You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You press your ear against him to hear more.

“Why would you think that?” he asks once he’s gathered himself.

You don’t answer. You squeeze him tighter.

“Sweetie?” The amusement is replaced with concern. His other arm wraps around you. The muscles tense with the slightest effort. He says your name.

Relief settles heavy in your bones. Tears prick at your eyes, while you remain utterly powerless to stop them. “It’s too dark,” you whimper. It’s all you can think to say.

His arms tighten around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him like you weigh nothing. He begins playing with your hair. “Does it scare you?” he asks softly.

You nod. You pull one of your hands out from around him to wipe the tears off your face and his chest.

God, you feel so fucking pathetic.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You don’t answer. His chest rises and falls with you on it, moving with his sigh. He pulls your hand away from your face and replaces it around him. You want to fight it. Complain about how gross it is to get all your tears on him. But he shushes you gently and you can’t find the strength to try.

“Do you want to go downstairs?”

You nod again.

The world shifts as he sits up with you. He pries you off of him so he can stand up, but he doesn’t go far. He grabs his sweater off the ground and helps you put it on. Then he goes through your dresser for some clean underwear. He helps you stand and slides them on. You don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see the darkness. So you hold onto his shoulders. You put all your trust into him, and he refuses to betray it.

He lifts you into his arms like you’re a damn princess. Usually, he’d throw you over his shoulder, but not this time. This time he’s careful, treating you with the utmost care as he carries you down the stairs and to the living room. With a wave of his fingers, the lights turn on, black and red left in its wake.

“It’s not dark anymore,” he promises as he sits down. You keep your face safely tucked into his neck. He rests his cheek on your head. His fingers go back to your hair. His other hand rubs patterns against your bare thigh.

After a while, your terror finally dissipates completely. You can see the light shining through your closed eyelids. Feel its subtle warmth against your skin. When you find the strength to open your eyes, the warm, comfortable ambiance of Sylus’s home greets you once more.

You use the sleeve of his sweater to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks. You cringe with embarrassment. “It’s stupid, I know.”

He hums noncommittally. “Is this what you were telling me not to worry about?” he asks instead.

You nod. “I was looking at… at nightlights,” you admit in a murmur.

“What kind?”

“Hm?” You pull back to look up at him. He lets you, meeting your gaze with a soft seriousness. “What d’you mean?”

He smirks slightly, eyebrow quirking upward. “I mean, what kind of nightlight would you like, sweetie? Fairy lights, a wall light, one of those animal-shaped ones that glows…”

You frown and look away. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“I’m asking,” he cups your cheek and guides your face to look at him, “so I can buy you one. Now, will you tell me, or do I have to buy every single nightlight on the market?”

You laugh despite yourself. “I have it pulled up on my laptop…”

He grins. “Good.” He pulls you into a chaste kiss. “Don’t hesitate to buy it next time. Or to tell me what’s wrong. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sad kitten.”

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Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #hurt/comfort #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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quin-ns · 1 year ago

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Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I’m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

#quin-ns writing #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream #scream 6 #ethan landry smut

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animalsalvationassociation · 4 months ago

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[ PLEASE READ TO THE END ]

Honestly . . . yeah I’m pretty tired. There’s a lot of things going on and at this point I think it’s time to call it. I’ve been really debating about making a post like this for the last few weeks. I think I’m gonna take a break from the Octonauts stuff. As much as I’m enjoying it, it’s also really stressing me out.

NOW BEFORE YOU LEAVE—HEAR ME OUT!!!

I’m not leaving forever, it’ll probably just be a few weeks AT THE MOST. I just need a hard reset. Unfortunately I can’t go much detail as of why, mostly some personal matters. And some of it is literally just the fact that my brain isn’t inspired and the hype I’m trying to give myself to make the content is only stressing me out more.

If you follow me on my other platforms you might see some posts coming out on there. To be specific the art block is just for Octonauts, so far I haven’t had any problems making content for other fandoms and I think that just means I need to work on some personal matters.

Please understand I love all of you and your support means the world to me. We’re already almost to 170 followers which is beyond what I was ever expecting. I cannot say, and I definitely won’t stop saying, how happy I am to have all of you here with me.

I’ve got some vacations coming up so I’m gonna take that time to really reflect on where I want the A.S.A. story to go. Honestly with the amount of attention it has gotten in such a small amount of time I kinda pressured myself to just throw things together as they come up, especially in the asks.

So all and all, I’m gonna take a break, I’ll be back in a few weeks fresh and ready to make content again. But I will still do my best to continue to be apart of the community. Unfortunately a guilty pleasure of mine is hopping on my fav Tumblr tags and just seeing what everyone is up to everyday. And I mean everyday. So if I comment on your posts or you see me popping in every now and then I promise I’m not ditching ya’ll, I’m just trying to stay updated and enjoy all of your creations.

Anyways my lovelies, if you made it this far you definitely get a cookie. 🍪 Have a wonderful day, and please take care of yourselves.

(Also if you’re on Art Fight this year, look me up by my main user and come attack me, I would love to see what ya’ll have up your sleeves! Friendly Fire and Defense are more than welcome, I’ll attack just about anyone!)

#octonauts #octonauts above and beyond #octonauts the asa #octonauts fanart

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imshymorph · 8 months ago

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Slightly angsty soft!price, I promise it has a good ending.

I believe that as much as you’re both used to the rhythm of it all now, you know, the weight his deployment adds to both of your shoulders, the way your stomachs churn when you have to spend months apart. It wasn’t as easy to deal with at the beginning.

I don’t even think you fully knew what his job was in the actual beginning. And the first few months to a year of really knowing was probably the hardest one in your relationship.

- - - - -

It was already hard, having to go weeks or months at a time without seeing him, with barely any contact. It was much harder when you knew that pretty much anything could happen to him and all you’d have as notice was someone delivering his dog tags to your door.

Resentment wasn’t the proper word for how you felt, you didn’t blame John, you never could. You had met him as the man who he was now, you wouldn’t expect him to change because of you. But there definitely was a weird feeling in your gut the more time you spent alone in your shared flat.

Your phone is always close to you, in case he got the chance to give a quick call or a simple text that confirmed his well-being. Your clothes pretty much abandoned to instead use his to at least have the smallest resemblance of what his presence was.

It wasn't resentment, but definitely loneliness, maybe even some hidden grief. The catastrophist side of you taking control, always ready to get a call from the hospital or a knock on your door.

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, he already had enough on his plate. but when a deployment made you both stay apart for over two months you spoke up. It was a civil, a conversation, not an argument. You explained how worried you were, despite his reassurances that you didn’t have to be, how lonely you felt. How big and silent the flat felt without him, how slow time seemed to pass by.

He understood, made the promise to limit the deployment times. He'd still go on missions, but shorter ones, the longest taking two weeks at a time. At least that was for the first few months. Old habits die hard and John has always been someone not only of habits but commitment and dedication. So, without realising, soon enough he was dipping back to old ways, his work as captain keeping him out of the country months at a time.

You tried a couple more times, insisting that you didn’t blame him. You knew what you were getting into before moving in with him, it wasn’t that. You just wanted some level of compromise, you didn’t ask him to avoid long deployments, just do his best to avoid having them back to back.

And the result was always the same. He'd understand and agree, and it would work well for a couple weeks, sometimes months. But then you’d go back to seeing him less and less until you were apart months at a time once more.

it all changed one specific day, though. It was probably the fourth or fifth time you had talked about it with him. Yet here you are again, alone at your shared flat, that had been inhabited only by you for the last six weeks. The feeling of loneliness had only grown stronger each day that passed and you had started to question if you were in fact starting to resent him. Wanting to avoid that train of thought you decided on the best option, you wouldn’t be alone at home if you spent a few days at someone else’s .

Texting one of your friends about your situation, they agreed on letting you stay with them for a few days. To help you get your mind out of John’s deployment and give you a break of the empty flat. You’d have company for a few days and manage to get rid of that pit in your gut that made bile rise every time you heard the doorbell.

You were packing things you’d need from the bathroom, busy with checking you didn’t forget anything important, you hadn’t heard the main door open.

John walked in, taking his muddy boots at the front door before he went looking for you, noticing the bedroom’s light on. He froze on the doorframe, stomach dropping and chest tightening when he saw your suitcase almost filled up on the bed.

You walked out of the bathroom, your whole body freezing when you saw him standing there. You hadn’t expected him to be home yet, not for another week at least. Your eyes ran over his whole body, making sure he was safe and sound. “John…?” you barely got to murmur, not even finishing your sentence before the things you were carrying were taken out of your hands and instead you were pulled into him.

“I'm sorry.” he murmured against the crown of your head. His nose pressed to your hair, with a hand cradling the back of your neck as the other pulled you close by the waist. “I'm sorry, love. Please, don’t leave.”

“I know I've messed up. Broke my word.” His tone was his usual gruff and low one, with that raspiness that comforted and turned you on alike, so familiar and finally there with you. But there was something to it, a light tilt that revealed how worried he really was about you possibly leaving. “I'll make it up to you, I'll really change.”

“John.” You say softly, lightly pulling away, only enough to look him in the eye, one of your hands reaching up, gently cupping his cheek. “I'm not leaving, love. I was just going to see a friend for a couple days.”

As soon as your warm hand makes contact with his skin, his face leans into your touch and his eyes soften. “Don’t, please.” he murmurs, and god does he resemble a sad dog in the rain. “Stay with me.” You give a soft nod and before you can do or say anything else, he pulls you back in his arms with a string of thank you’s and i’m sorry’s.

“I'll make it up to you, I promise.” he murmurs against the top of your head before kissing it. And the way his arms curl tighter around you and pull you closer. The way the mix of his cologne and musk fills your senses and the press of his lips to your head immediately makes that pit in your gut disappear.

“It's okay.” you reassure softly, your arms hooking around his neck in return, holding him close. “I'm not angry, darling. I just missed you.” the second one of you hand drifts up to lightly brush through his hair and against his scalp he feels like he’s melting.

“I missed you too, love. Every single day.” he answers, his face now burying in the crook of your neck instead of your hair. His body unconsciously starts to sway the both of you from side to side. “I'll make it up to you. Take you out on a proper date.”

Your eyes close, your head leaning against his shoulder as you sway along with him. “We can do that tomorrow.” you reassure him softly, “just want to say like this for now.”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, love.” he murmurs, the hand on your waist moving under your his t-shirt to feel your warm skin. “Just please don’t leave me.”

“I won't.” comes out your soft answer, “I’m not going anywhere, darling.” you reassure softly as you press a light kiss to his shoulder.

The both of you stay like that for a few minutes, a comfortable silence sitting between the both of you as you softly sway in each other's arms. No words needed to notice the relief the other is going through. If he thought he had relaxed when you had started to play with his hair, the moments he heard you whisper a soft i love you he felt like he had ascended to paradise without realising.

He took a second, breathing your scent for a moment longer before he pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “I love you too. you’re my everything, love. I’ll prove it to you, promise.” he whispered back, before leaning in to seal his promise with a kiss.

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #captain price cod #captain john price #captain price mw2 #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price #price x reader #captain price #soft!price #gender neutral reader #gn!reader

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absolutebl · 3 months ago

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Hi, I recently discovered BL and have been very interested in reading about it. And even if I don't agree with every one of your takes, you seem very knowledgeable, so I've been reading your blog on and off since yesterday.

Anyway, I was curious about your opinion on The Shipper, but I looked at the tags, and it seems like you didn't watch it. May I ask why? I get it's not quite BL, instead being BL adjacent, but I think it's one of GMMTV's best productions, so I'm really curious about what made you avoid it.

The Shipper

I did end up watching some of it (which in me terms means I skipped through it to the BL bits and then watched the last few eps to find out how they landed the damn ship).

Ultimately, I simply don't consider The Shipper BL. I try to stay on target with this blog. So while I may watch other QL, GL, Kdramas, survivor shows, Kpop thingies, and so forth, 90% of the time I stick to BL here.

Other more personal reasons?

I also hugely dislike shipping culture. Too close to stalker and parasocial relationships. It's not something I was ever into, even as a teen. Taking on reality with fanfic wigs me tf out. I have close friends who have had stalker issues both as "normal" people and as the quasi-famous.

It's one of the reasons I rarely report on actor news or relationships or drama here. Unless it directly impacts production, it's none of my damn business. If I did so, this could probubly become a much bigger blog, but also a much more toxic one. I do this for fun, not profit.

The branding of pairs interests me intellectually, from a marketing and publicity perspective, but nothing beyond that.

You may note, if you delve further into this blog, that I lurch hard away from JBL in particular when it dabbles in idolatry, sasang, and stalker behaviors (unless it's playing in the dirt with them, like My Beautiful Man did). Even if done gently and comedically, I tend to get switched off from the whole show. I wouldn't go so far as to call it a trigger, but I am viscerally upset by it, not entertained.

IMHO BL is for entertainment first. The only thing worse than being upset by a show is being bored with it.

The way Thai BL represents female shippers in particular, especially in the context of a BL (which tend to have very few positively represented women on the main), often smacks of misogyny and punching down humor. I simply don't enjoy that. Feminist critical theory from my uni days always bubbles up in my head and won't be put aside.

And finally... I pretty much loathe the body swap trope. It is probably one of my least favorite fiction tropes. I have no idea why, I just really don't like it.

I make an exception for Great Men Academy but even that I have only watch once with no plans for a rewatch, and it's another one that I would hesitate to call BL.

Still, if you love The Shipper I would HIGHLY recommend tracking down Great Men Academy, I think you would find it well worth your time.

#the shipper #my relationship with the shipper #body swap bl #shipping culture #thai pair branding #great men academy #asked and answered

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bellarkeselection · 1 year ago

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Regardless They’ll Always Be Dutton’s

I just had an idea about a story that I think would be great. It would be a Lee Dutton x reader with alittle kayce x reader - request from @cookiez56-blog

Shutting the front door I gazed out back into the front yard seeing my two children William and Lana who we’re playing tag in the grass off the front porch. My father in law John was sitting beside my husband Lee. Sitting across from them on a small wooden chair I noticed that John was looking at Lana for a long time. “Is something wrong, John?”

“I might be wrong. But I don’t miss anything on this ranch. So does someone want to tell me why Lana looks more like Kayce then she does you and Lee. Cause I want to know if I’m just not awake yet this morning or not.” John ran a hand over his chin in thought then he messed with his white cowboy hat on his head.

Lee and I shifted our gaze back to each other before he reached over grasping my hand in his seeing that I was starting to let some tears fall remembering that day. “He was an idiot to ever do that to you, Y/n.”

“Kayce, I have to tell you something and I’m not sure the best way to do this so….here it is I’m pregnant.” Running my hands through my hair we were about to graduate high school in a few weeks before I found out I had missed my period.

Kayce dropped his hands at his side’s changing his demeanor completely from what I thought he would. “We can’t do this anymore, Y/n.”

“What are you saying?” I dared to ask him horrified of his next response.

The youngest Dutton sent me a half sympathetic look. “Y/n, it won’t work between us anymore. I’m going into the navy and you won’t want to stay worried about me all the time. And you’re probably not going to keep the baby anyway, whoever it belong to.”

“It’s yours asshat!” I blurted out throwing my hands away from my sides feeling heartbroken at what he was saying. “I lost my virginity to you. You’re the only person I have ever slept with!”

He shook his head removing his hat running his fingers through his hair frustrated at me and himself maybe. “I…I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think that it was that easy for you to get…especially the first time. I can’t do this.” He slowly turned on his feet beginning to walk away from me and back up to the main front porch of his family’s home.

Running forward I grabbed Kayce’s wrist holding him to a stop and slapped him across the face where it hurt my hand afterwards. He held his burning cheek that was red. “You are an asshole Kayce John Dutton. I tell you that I’m pregnant and you say that you want nothing to do with me or this kid!”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m terrified as hell and you don’t have to keep the baby.” He grunted still holding his burning red cheek.

Shaking my head I spun on my feet walking away from him about to leave the ranch but I remembered that I left my jacket in the barn. Heading into the barn I grabbed it before I felt heavy tears falling down my face. Throwing my jacket I screamed just kicking the wooden wall with my boots so frustrated and heartbroken by what Kayce just said to me. Gripping my hair in my fingers I heard someone walking towards me. “I don’t want to talk to you ever again Kayce!”

“It’s not Kayce, it’s Lee.” Whipping my head around I slumped my shoulders recognizing his older brother coming towards me. He removed his tan brown hat noticing that I was sobbing through tears. “Hey what’s wrong honey?”

“I’m pregnant with your brothers child…it’s Kayce’s. But he..he just broke up with me and said he doesn’t want it. Lee I, I have no idea what to do next. I don’t think it’s right to abort the baby but otherwise I’m on my own now.” Wrapping my arms around myself I avoided his gaze sniffling through tears that hadn’t stopped coming.

Lee didn’t waste another second before he tugged me into his chest holding me tightly against him. He had one hand in my hair and the other down my back letting me cry into his shirt until I had got it all out and he had a plan inside his mind. He gently held my face in his hands wiping away the tears that had stayed on my cheek. “Y/n, this is what we’re going to do. Nobody knows that you’re pregnant. You and Kayce haven’t been showing off your relationship so we can pass the baby off as mine.”

“Oh Lee I can’t ask you to do that. I mean what if you find someone you actually care about and want to marry someone else someday.” I felt guilty that he might be giving something up to help me out.

The eldest Dutton pressed his forehead against mine not backing down from his plan. “You’re not asking I’m offering you this option. And maybe someday if we got closer we could marry and make this work better. Cause from where I’m standing you wouldn’t be the worst person to be married too.”

Lee and I hadn’t said a word since John was still staring at us waiting for an answer. We really didn’t know what to say to him, as far as he knew until now Lana was Lee’s daughter. Getting to my feet Lee followed my actions taking my hand with my wedding ring on it trying to tell me everything was going to be okay. “Dad, I just want you to know that it was my plan the whole time. Y/n came to me crying and in a panic. So I did whatever I thought would help her.”

“So what we’re saying is that you we’re right. Lana is actually Kayce’s daughter and William is Lee’s. Kayce said he wanted nothing to do with the baby and Lee offered me more than I could have imagined. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. I…we just thought it was better that no one knew the truth.” Moving my freehand around in front of me I felt a nervous pit in my stomach waiting for his answer.

John tapped his fingers on the armrests of the chair. “If you’re thinking I’d be angry you don’t have anything to be worried about. Regardless of who the birth father is they are each still my grandkids. I love Lana and William both equally.”

“Oh thank you. John I can’t thank you enough.” Covering my mouth with my hands I smiled through happy tears before I moved forward hugging my father in law.

He hugs me back smiling towards his eldest son. “You’re welcome Y/n…you did a good job son.”

We turned our heads seeing the two you kids running up the stairs bouncing around in front of us. Lana had slight curly hair that was the color of Kayce’s hair but she had my eye color. William had my hair color but he was given Lee’s eyes. “Mommy. Daddy, can we get some ice cream?” William asked spinning around in his tiny cowboy boots.

“If grandpa John says it’s okay.” Lee responded wrapping an arm around my waist tugging me into his side smiling down at them.

John tilted his head towards the inside of the house. “Go on kiddos. Just don’t eat too much before dinner.”

“Thank you, grandpa.” Lana ran away from her brother throwing her arms around her grandfather’s neck making him smile toward me and Lee silently telling us that both the kids would be good cowboys and cowgirls when they grow up.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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iiwaijime · 3 months ago

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introductions

masterlist

tooru oikawa

without them, i am nothing. so i pick up the pieces they've left behind and try to put them back together just to feel like myself again.

tooru oikawa is... weird. in a time and place where staying in solitude is the worst possible thing you can do to yourself, he does just that. no companions, no allies. all he has is an ever-growing collection of things that don't belong to him, and the faces that come back to haunt him every night. and somehow, despite all that, he's probably the most outwardly amiable person you'll meet on this side of the earth.

exhibit a: dog tags. he and his best friend bought matching ones from a fair. they got their names engraved and everything. the ones that he wears around his neck now aren't even his.

exhibit b: photographs. he has a fairly large collection of them, and he treasures every single one. a life that he can't go back to plays out within.

exhibit c: comic books. a childish part of him is still seventeen, poring over old superhero comics in his best friend's bedroom. he probably knows every single line by heart now.

y/n l/n

if the music is loud enough, and i close my eyes, just for one second, everything is okay again.

y/n l/n's life is gray — an endless cycle of sleep if you can, eat if you can, repeat. like tooru, she's alone. unlike him, she has no set base. music is her escape; yet she doesn't get to listen as often as she likes. but when she does, she goes places. sometimes she's doing maths in her friend's basement. sometimes she's fighting with her parents — she misses that, too. and sometimes, tooru oikawa, six years old, shoves a volleyball into her hands and makes her play.

exhibit a: digital camera. it's out of power, and does not function with what minimal energy is still available. but she takes it along with her anyways, in the hopes that it'll be able to turn on again one day, and unlock all the memories inside.

exhibit b: notebook, pressed flowers. she writes in the notebook every now and then, but she'd rather not waste the ink and lead she has. instead, she picks out the prettiest flowers she sees, and tucks them in between the pages. one day, she wants to show them to someone she loves.

exhibit c: walkman music player. the one she has is quite old, and thankfully works with her scavenged energy sources. she'd probably be lost without it. it's her most prized possession, an emergency exit from reality when she needs it the most.

author's note

🎵 y/n, tooru and hajime were pretty close until middle school, when she moved away. they lost contact afterwards.

🎵 the earth is super desolate rn: no laws, no electricity, no actual civilization — but there are small groups of people here and there, and parts of old machinery are sometimes just okay enough to be modified to produce a little bit of something.

🎵 "one day, she will show them to someone she loves" isn't about a specific person. she just hopes that after all this, after losing everyone and everything, she will be able to achieve some semblance of a normal life where she does not have to be alone.

🎵 tooru has really bad nightmares almost every night. he's scared of forgetting, so he tries to keep as much physical evidence of everything that ever happened in his life as possible.

🎵 there are some things like zombies in this universe; known as the infected? they go around and act feral and bite people and shit. the first few were infected by a freak explosion and then it spread like wildfire. the two main dangers are the infected, and then "pirate" groups who go around attacking people.

🎵 tooru and hajime pooled together all the money that they had to get y/n that notebook. she uses it way too sparingly, because she feels like if she finishes it, she'll lose the last connection she has with them.

🎵 tooru usually has a stable amount of supplies because he can store the excess, but y/n is always running out.

🎵 i made a friend beta read the tooru pov of the first chapter and she said it's good :3 she wanted the next bit and it was so embarrassing to tell her it's fanfic. she don't judge tho <3

🎵 inspired the stand by stephen king icl. it made such an impression on me omfg

taglist — 7/50, add yourself please — form

@akaakeis @mikauraurr @dawnisatotalqueen @smellysluna @akaashislovee @lulumi1u @anqelkoz

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sebsdaniel · 10 months ago

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12 Questions about F1 through the years

I was tagged by @twinkodium Thank you sm girl! This one's my fave so far <3

I tag whoever wants to do this in F1blr <3

1. Who or what got you into F1?

My dad. He grew up in a racing/car family and automatically transfered that love to me when I was just five days old and he held me up in the hospital to show me the German GP of 1999 on TV. We always joke I've watched F1 since I was born, which is no lie. Since then, we've seen almost every race together. We've also gone to 15 F1 GPs together.

2. Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

Michael Schumacher. My dad is a Jenson Button fan and he's convinced I started supporting Schumi just to annoy him. I don't fully remember why I chose Michael, but my best guess is I fell in love with the red car that kept winning. I love him still and still hope he gets better someday.

3. Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

After 16 years of supporting Sebastian Vettel, I ended up supporting Max Verstappen in 2023. My dad's been supporting him ever since his debut, and made him his main since Jenson retired. However, I didn't get there that quickly. I adored Max when he began F1. Got annoyed with him a lot in 2018 and 2019 when he kept having run ins with Seb (fave bias I guess), but once 2020 I grew to adore him and in 2021 I fell in love. He'll never reach the same level for me as Seb did in my heart (he's my hero after all, since I was 6), but I love him sm already.

4. Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

I love so many F1 duo's, but my two faves are Sebastidan and Lestappen.

Sebastidan got me out of my high school depression phase in 2017. I remember feeling extra down when Seb lost his chance at the title that year in Japan. I was so frustrated and watched video's of them as teammates the whole day. I've adored them since and while they aren't a fanfavorite, I can't help but enjoy the bits and pieces we still get from them.

Lestappen. I got into them last year during their - sadly short - title fight. The history they have, the connection, is something so unique. They also seem to become better friends with each passing month. I'd love to see them as teammates someday.

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

Dad's a Max and RB fan. He hates Mercedes and especially Toto. His past faves are Senna, Hill and Jenson. Mom has watched F1 since she's been with dad (1985), but never got into it. She always liked Nico Rosberg though!

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

Belgium 2014 as it was my first live GP. Belgium 2018 as it was the first time I saw Seb win live. Abu Dhabi 2012, which was epic Abu Dhabi 2021, I'll never forget that day Brazil 2008, it was mind blowing.

And probably many more!

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

Spa. It's my home track which I've been visiting since I was a toddler. And Zolder, for the same reasons.

I also adore the Red Bull Ring, Yas Marina circuit and Monza.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

15 in total! 14 times the Belgian GP (would've been 15 if it weren't for 2020) and 1 time the Austrain GP. It's always amazing! The organisation of Spa has changed for the better as well!

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

Several times the whole grid before 2020, because it wasn't as difficult to get close to them. In Spa they organized hours long signing sessions at la Source for everyone with a weekend ticket. Since then I've seen them mostly from a distance. The closest I've come to talking a while to someone was Charles in 2018, Seb several times and Daniel also a few times. I still get butterflies thinking about it <3

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

RB19 (2023), it's such a precious car <3 Seb's 2010 RB. The Ferrari from 2004. Brawn GP car from 2009.

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

Not really. Unless, you count Oscar's sprint win from last year.

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

‘If you no longer go for a gap which exists you are no longer a racing driver’ - Aryton Senna -

'Enjoy these moments. We know they won't last forever.' - Sebastian Vettel -

'Enjoy the butterflies' - Daniel Ricciardo -

'If I get a few more, I think I'll headbut someone' - Max Verstappen -

'God might be with him, but he's no God' - Max Verstappen -

Thank you so much for this tag, hun <3

#f1 #sebastian vettel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #sebastidan #lestappen #tag game

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some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too · 1 year ago

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Wait it’s pride month do you think you could do like modern hcs of the boys at a pride parade?

The gang at a pride parade

A/N: i normally don’t like writing modern boys idk but i tried my best here!

Tags: modern!gang, pride parade

Warnings: homophobia is mentioned but is far from a main point

Darry

he would be like the mom that’s so supportive it’s annoying yk? he’d 100% bring like a backpack that’s just full of chocolate, water and fruit and let anyone take what they need

Darry’s just a big mama bear in general imo so he would also just beat any homophobes heads in.

Will hand you a list of secret codes that mean something different. for example if you call him and say idk- “broccoli pizza” that could mean “i need to get out of here” so he’d come get you and the two of you would go for coffee to calm down and then see if you wanted to go back or just go home.

Ponyboy

To be frankly honest i don’t think pride parades would be his thing? it’s very loud and lots of people which i think would make him a little nervous.

just hold his hand while you’re there ok? he’s doing his best even being there and having you beside him all the time will just make him feel slightly more at ease.

He will make sure you have fun even though it’s not really his thing and who knows maybe he’ll warm up to it by the end? i think he likes the idea of it, just not all the people there.

Sodapop

This boy is in his element! he’s probably in some crazy outfit and asked you to give him the most sparkly makeup look ever and he is definitely in the parade.

He’s his normal hyper self, but 10 times worse. he’s running around the place, like a dog that has the zoomies type shit. nobody give him sugar under any circumstances..

Soda is going to make like 17 friends and then invite them all back to the house for another party so be ready for that. also, remind him to hydrate because he will forget.

Dallas

He won’t be in a cool outfit he’ll in his leather jacket and jeans, but maybe you can get him to wear a pin.

He will be kinda uninterested tbh but he will let you drag him around all day. and hey, maybe it’ll grow on him over time you never know.

The only time that he’ll leave your side is if he spots some homophobes, then he’ll start a fight as we know Dallas does so just, keep an eye on him. or don’t and join the fight, whatever works for you 🤷‍♂️

Two-Bit

He’s “there for the drink and only the drink.” is what he tells you but he still gets you to help him pick a nice outfit and paint his nails for him. once you get there the drink becomes his second priority.

Two actually really enjoys himself in the end but he has a habit of wandering off so be careful. He will be flirting with everyone he sees unless you tell him you’re not comfy with that then he’ll stop

He probably brought a disposable camera with him so a few days later he’ll have a picture of all the people he spoke with and all the memories you made

Steve

Was probably dragged along by soda. If you want him to wear something for the occasion you should sneak into his room the night before and decorate one of his sleeveless denim jackets. he gives me the vibe that he’d rather DIY his outfit rather than buy it.

Same as soda he will be 10 times more hyper and he would be showing off his gymnastics talent doing flips off cars and stuff.

He would be similar to dallas though since as soon as he spotted a homophobe he would right there to beat them up. nobody ruins this day for him.

Johnny

I don’t think it’s Johnnys thing to go to a parade so he’d either go but be slightly terrified of everyone or he would let you go with your other friends and stay behind.

if he stayed behind though he’d love to hear everything about your day once you got home. then you two would go to the cinema together.

If you did go together then he’d be a little like Darry, very prepared for anything that could happen and he would make some code word that means “time to go”

#the outsiders #pride 2023 #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #steve randle #two-bit mathews #dallas winston x reader #ponyboy x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #darry x reader #sodapop curtis x reader

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ambrostikal · 8 days ago

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I'm putting this blog on an indefinite selective activity status (which I should've done ages ago). Bordering on an indefinite hiatus. Context under the cut, TLDR in the tags.

While it's been nice to linger around here for the past few days because of the Shadow Gens hype, ngl I'm still feeling this sense of purposelessness. Idk what to actually DO here. Idk if it's because Tikal isn't a "relevant" character since the series has done nothing with her after SA1 + all the attention is on IDW, or if I myself have dropped a creativity ball somewhere. It's nobody's problem but mine, but man, is it an annoying problem nonetheless.

Either way. I have a fic currently in progress starring her (and Sonic...it's a Sonikal story coughcough), using concepts I've always wanted to play out in rp + having sprinkles of wish fulfillment here & there. Technically, it's in limbo rn because I hit a writer's block wall, so I'm gonna more so focus on resolving that versus lurking on the dashboard here and twiddling my thumbs. Feels like a better use of my time, I guess.

If you IM me, it could take me a VERY long time to see it because log-ins will be irregular from this day onwards. You're best off adding me on discord if you want to stay in touch. I'm down to rp in discord too, not just on tumblr.

(This discord acc isn't my main tho, so my replies will be sporadic / will come whenever I remember to switch over.)

Tbh whenever I finish the fic, I very well may remake Tik in the future & have its setting be her canon/mainverse. Because if other ppl can be self indulgent with their ships, I can too! Even if it is a rarepair like one other person outside of me on the web cares about.

That is, assuming I even still want to rp Tikal at that point. She's the oldest muse I have on tumblr and I know she has a lot of potential for some fun, engaging stories, but the current rp environment in this corner isn't really nurturing that. Who knows if that'll change. Her muse's fate for me probably lies in fanfics and art, not in rping anymore. We'll have to see.

#🎔 ( ooc. )#/ blah blah blah im throwing this acc into stasis for now \#/ and putting tikal's muse towards my fic instead \#/ i'll give a link to it if asked because its already public on the web \

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no-psi-nan · 8 months ago

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🥺🥺🥺 not 2 be sappy on main but omg I actually started off in Deviantart ages ago, that was the closest thing to social media for me until the tumblr migration lol. But I never really interacted with people on there, and even upon moving to tumblr, never really interacted with people here too often either. At first I had my main blog which was meant to be more professional since I was selling art to get a little college income, so I didn't really make too many irrelevant posts. Then I decided that I wanted to be able to reblog art and support other artists, so I made a side blog where I carefully curated and tagged the posts I reblogged. I made a few original posts but no one ever interacted, and eventually I realized that people only ever sent me asks there if I tagged anything wrong. Also I found out that adding stuff like series and character tags to a reblog on tumblr is basically useless because the op will pretty much always tag those things which makes it searchable on your own blog even if you don't tag it yourself. And if op DIDN'T tag it those things, your tags will make the post searchable on your blog but NOT in the general search, so it doesn't give op any more of a boost than just reblogging it tagless. So I made another sideblog, which I still have today, and I just rapidfire reblog literally anything I find shareworthy lol. Not any interaction there but at least I'm not wasting my time meticulously tagging strangers posts hsfjdlshfks. Since I was best friends with a big name fan in my main fandom (we became friends when I left a long emotional comment on their fanfic btw <3), I helped run some small fandom events and met more people as well. When I switched fandoms, it was a fandom event that gave me a new friend too, my posts never got any traction. Large fandom discords didn't really work for me either. But on this blog I was lucky, and for the first time people started like actually responding to my comments and posts, and get conversations going! And genuinely that's what's kept my brain rot so powerful I think, because bouncing ideas off each other and joking around and shitposting is genuinely the most fun I've ever had online!! I have to thank desta and oatmeal for the fun times especially, and hillbilly---man left really nice comments on my first few fics that really encouraged me, and I always have fun trading ideas with alienn, saikikthoughts, and crookedlyinnernightmare, plus everyone else who's on here, that's too many people to type out. AND I TYPED UP A BUNCH MORE STUFF BUT TUMBLR FUCKING DELETED IT!! Are you shitting me.... Well I think I remember saying that even if it's been getting kinda quiet and boring lately so my attention is starting to wander (I've pretty much posted all of the meta that's not deep fanfic hc at this point and my drawings take me a long time to make), I'll never delete this blog and I'll still be putzing around online until the day I die probably. And I'll always remember these days fondly and hope to find another great community like this one. And also I highly encourage everyone to post, reply, interact, and play with fellow fans! I've made lifelong friendships over blorbos and even if we don't have the same blorbos any more, we're still friends. Obviously stay safe online, never send money to strangers, probably wait like a year to start shipping each other stuff but still, reach out because you never know who you might meet! I've been lonely irl for most of my life for various reasons, and my online friends have been a lifeline honestly, they're all really important to me. Two of my best friends today come from fanfic comment sections!! Also I need to get around to archiving my meta on AO3 lol (yup, it's for meta too!) but that's gonna be a lot of work so -_-U).

#notes to nopsi #🥺thank u for making an old blogger like me emotional at 7 am #even if tumblr fucking pissed me off by deleting half the post #Also I appreciate the 'hate' anons because even though it must have been super embarrassing for them #it was fun to do some more analysis on a topic I usually don't think about <3

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cozylittleartblog · 1 year ago

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Oop, hello there! ^^ I remember you from DA, still think your art is so cool!! Still fond of the vintage characters and the world of Tessa n' Val! I'm currently testing the waters on Tumblr lol, hoping to get around a different vibe for documenting my projects n' chatting about stuff I like, and wanted to ask: as someone who's been on Tumblr for a while, what are your main tips for a starting artist in the platform? Wish ya a great day! Stay artful n' creative :]

HI!!!! i remember you too, i always get really excited when artists i like come here. tumblr is the only website i really use for myself and not just to post art, so it means i get to follow them and interact with their art 🥺 i ditched deviantart for everything that isn't posting art and bitching about the website via status updates lmfao, the new inbox and watched deviants tabs are so... out of the way and counter intuitive. hate it there.

anyway, I've written a general tumblr how-to post because there's been so many exoduses (exodi??) from other platforms over the last few years, but I don't think I've ever written one for artists? or at least I can't find it if I did. so here are some hot tips 😎👉👉

NUMBER ONE BIGGEST RULE: if you're an artist and you want to actively gain a following and curate your art, please have a separate art blog where you post exclusively or near exclusively art. it's ok to reblog a post here or there, but tumblr is a website About curating and having specific blogs! it's not that people don't want to see or hear about the artist behind the work, but they don't want 43289 unrelated memes and posts for fandoms they're not in 😅 admittedly i have skipped following some good artists here because their reblogs completely drown out their art and clog my dashboard. people really like curated blogs, almost every artist has a separate art blog 'round these parts. (it's completely fine to post WIPs and text posts discussing your art too, some people would like to see your process!)

speaking of curating: tags are your best friend! tumblr tracks the first 20 tags I believe, so use the first 20 tags to add your important search terms. this is where you put anything you'd want to turn up in the search. really you probably wont have more than 10 of these tags. after that you are welcome to ramble in the tags or use organizational tags for your specific blog.

not sure how to tag? search up what terms you'd use to try to find your own post if you were someone else, and see what tags popular posts in that tag used. you should ALWAYS use the #art and #artists on tumblr tags, as well as any relevant common trigger/content warning tags :D here's how i do it:

FOR FANDOM POSTS: where applicable, I tag Fandom, Fandom Acronym, Featured Characters, Featured Ships, and sometimes #[fandom] fanart and/or #[fandom acronym] fanart. FOR ORIGINAL POSTS: you can tag your art medium (digital art, traditional art, sculpting, etc), the general aesthetic or themes, time periods, and if it features your OCs you can use #oc and their names so if people want to see all your OC content they can find it. admittedly i mostly post fanart so i am very spontaneous with the tags i use on my original art posts lol

4. shorter captions seem to be preferred by the masses, I personally either dump my extra comments in the tags of the original post or I'll put them under a cut. unless it's extremely relevant to the post, like explaining ideas or headcanons

5. have all your handy links in your bio! you can use basic HTML coding to insert links with text and put in line breaks. you should have links to other socials (or something like a carrd that links them for you) and your support streams, like shops and tip jars and patreons. and ofc a little about you and what people can expect to see you draw!

6. have your inbox open! you don't have to take requests, but sometimes someone will throw a brilliant idea at you that you may Coincidentally be inclined to draw. it's also just fun to interact with people who like what you do! sweet comments go a long way

7. last one i can think of - do a seIf-reblog at some point in the day. people live in different timezones and not everybody finishes their dashboard. personally I schedule posts for 12 pm cst and then one seIf-reblog at 8 pm cst. it's also okay to reblog your older artworks for new followers to see, especially if you haven't posted in a while. TV airs re-runs and so can you B)

hope some of it helps!

#tumblr guide #tumblr how to #artists #ask #ninacti0n #will be following u from my main hehe #tumblr artists

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harrisongslimited · 8 months ago

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George Chapter of the Day

I Saw Her Standing There #12

Chapter 12

Trigger Warnings: adult situations, swearing, drinking, smoking, sexual tension, slow-burn romance, george and joie romance, friendship.

**18+ only**

Chapter 12

When Joie awoke in the coach house, she was warm and comfortable. The sun was actually shining for a change and lit up the bright yellow walls and sunflower wallpaper. She missed daily sunshine. A lot. Sitting up in bed, she noticed a piece of paper pushed underneath the door and went to see what it was.

"Morning. I'm off to town. Make yourself at home for today. I'll talk to you when I get back. Probably sometime in the afternoon. George xx"

Joie folded the note, tucked it in her purse and headed for the main house. She was going to enjoy this day, even if she remained in George's robe.

"Joie?"

She heard the voice through the intercom from the front gate. "It's Cyn. Open up."

Joie met her at the front door. It was early afternoon and Joie had spent the rest of her morning talking to Freda and dozing on the living room sofa. She felt guilty not doing anything, especially when Freda told her how busy it was, but she felt she deserved this little vacation.

"Cyn!" Joie exclaimed when Cyn came through the gaden gate. "So happy to see you! What's going on?"

Cyn was loaded down with shopping bags and lunch. "Bringing you some clothes...and lunch. George told me you were here and all you had was a robe."

Cyn noticed it was George's robe and gave Joie "the look".

"Come on in...." Joie invited, "but don't get the wrong idea. I slept in the coach house."

Cyn walked in and dropped the bags. "Come on Joie...George is daft over you. You trying to stay one step out of his grasp?"

"No. Not at all...I mean not consciously."

Cyn frowned. "What does that mean?"

Joie shook her head and helped Cyn into the house, setting the bags and lunch on the kitchen table. "Don't know really...but what if I'm giving off the wrong signals?"

"Well, what signals do you want to give off?"

Joie smiled but turned shy. "I like him very much. I just don't have any experience...you know? I've had to fight boys off for the most part."

Cyn nodded in understanding. "John was the fist guy I ever dated. I was just so shy. He would tease me about everything and one thing led to another and I got pregnant. We married after that. So don't listen to me, really!"

They laughed together as Joie produced 2 glasses and Cyn filled them with a lovely smooth white wine.

"Be yourself, be open with George about your feelings. I know one thing--George would never hurt you."

Joie, filled with emotion, hugged Cyn. "Thank you, Cyn. You're a wonderful friend."

Cyn smiled. "Well let's have our wine and look through these clothes. We'll have you ready for George by the time he gets home."

Joie wondered what that meant, but just hugged Cyn again instead. "Thank you," she said simply. "Thank you for all you have done for me."

Cyn waved her hand. "Not to worry. My pleasure."

Joie looked in the bags. There were still tags on the clothes. Tags with prices she couldn't afford and Cynthia saw the look on her face.

"Don't worry about that for now. I know what you are thinking. But I had these in my closet. Never wore them. At least they will get some use. I bought them when I was skinnier and now I can't fit into them. Can't take them back either. So you are doing me a favor. I told John I will have more room in my closet!"

"Oh, I couldn't Cyn...." Joie told her, shaking her head.

"Please let me do this for you. I know how good you were to John on tour. He told me there were a couple of nights he'd had too much to drink and you really took care of him. I appreciate that....and I appreciate that I can trust you."

"You can, you know..." A flash of her hypocrisy exploded behind her eyes but Joie did her best to focus just on Cyn and what she needed.

Cynthia nodded and reached out to hold Joie's hand for a moment. "There are very few women I can trust at this point....and you are one of them."

Joie smiled. "Thanks, Cyn..."

"Now c'mon. Let's pick out some clothes."

.........

When George arrived back home, Joie was in the kitchen cooking. She thought she would give him a good home cooked meal and found enough food in the pantry to make a decent dinner. Chicken, rice and carrots. She had no idea if he liked chicken, rice and carrots, but that's what she made.

"Hello?" George called out. He had her suitcase in one hand and a box in the other.

"How....what....?'

"How....what?" George teased her. "I got you some things from Freda's with her help. And the box...well...I just thought this house needed something and I figured out what that was."

George handed her the box. Something inside moved. Joie jumped, then looked inside. There were 2 kittens...one white, one black.

"I didn't know what color to get....," he grinned.

"Oh my...."Joie exclaimed. She took the kittens out and held them to her. Joie looked at George, almost getting teary. "Oh my...." She said again, sweetly looking at him and leaning to kiss him.

It was quiet between them now as the kittens purred in her arms. Joie believed that right at that moment, right then, she'd never been happier in her life. She wanted to hold the moment in time, remembering the sounds, the smells, the feelings.

"You want to name them?" George finally asked her.

"I don't know..." Joie answered. "What do you think?"

"Let's just see what their personalities are like. Then we can decide."

He walked closer to her and she handed him the white kitten.

"One big happy family...." He joked. Those sensual dark eyes focused on her as she cuddled the kitten.

"One big happy family...." She answered.

..........

"So where were you?" John asked Cynthia when she returned home.

"At George's. Joie is there and needed some clothes."

"Needed clothes?" John laughed. "What the hell is wrong with George? What would she need clothes for?"

"He loves her, John..." Cyn told him seriously. "I think the little boy who followed us around has fallen in love."

"With Joie?"

"Yes with Joie" Cyn told him.

"Does she love him?"

Cynthia smiled. "She does. She just doesn't know it yet."

John shook his head. Walking away from her he said, "Birds....American or British. All the same."

..........

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" Joie asked George as they cleaned dishes after dinner.

"Come here," George extended his hand. "I want to talk to you."

She took his hand as he led her to the living room where the kittens were asleep on a blanket, their little tummies full. George lit a fire, poured them a glass of wine, and sat next to her on the sofa.

"The car is picking me up at 6am," he began.

Joie shook her head. "6?"

George nodded. "And I'll be gone for 3 weeks."

She missed him already. The steadiness of him. The strength. The way he made her feel...like the only woman in the world he wanted next to him.

"What about the kittens?" Joie asked. "I couldn't take them to Freda's. What are we gonna do?"

"Well, I'd like you to stay here. You can take my car into London for now. We'll figure out what to do with your car when I get back. It's at Mal's now. He took it to be....cleaned up."

"Stay here?"

"Yes."

"George...."

"What?"

"I shouldn't."

"Why?" he asked, his eyebrow hiked up to the ceiling. "Because it doesn't look right?"

Joie shrugged slightly. "Well, it sort of ... doesn't."

George sighed. "Joie, I don't care how things 'look'. We know what we are doing and what happens is private. Let people think what they will. You can't stop them. I've learned that the hard way. If you don't want to stay, don't do it on your own terms. Not because of what people will think."

"I know you're right...."

"And if you are worried about your dad, I'll talk to him. I'll tell him you are staying in the coach house and I'm ... well, I'll be gone," he said. "And you can go into the office because Brian will be on the road with us.If you'd rather just stay here, that's fine. We will work the rest out when I get back."

"I quit NEMS, remember?" she asked, leaning closer to him. "Do you always know what to say and do?"

"Yes," he said in a joking way. "You're fine...work in the office if you'd like or stay here and help me. Staying here would help you get some proper time to work on your report. Don't forget that."

"Ok," she answered. "And don't worry...I'll tell my dad I'm here. Don't worry about that. But I'll have to call him long distance. Can I pay you for using the phone?"

"Joie," George began, shaking his head. "I don't care about that."

"But I do. I don't want to take advantage."

"You won't. I'm not worried about that...." he answered again, reinforcing his lack of caring about a phone call. "Let's say we'll figure it out later, ok?"

"Ok," Joie replied as her emotions began to overwhelm her. God, he was handsome. Those dark eyes pulled her in so effortlessly, like it was a walk in the park. She felt warmed by the fire. By the wine. By George. She wanted to crawl next to him and feel his arms around her. She wanted to sleep on his shoulder. When he got up to stoke the fire, she smelled the soapy clean of him.

Joie watched him for a moment. What was happening to her? Why was she feeling these things when she usually just didn't pay attention to such things?

The wine. She told herself. It was the wine talking. She would do no such thing but it did feel overwhelmingly incredible to imagine telling George the truth. Everything felt good.

They talked and shared another bottle of wine. Joie told him several times that he should get some sleep before the car came to get him at 6, but then they would start talking about something else and the time didn't seem to matter.

"Come with me," he said suddenly, standing and extending his hand. "Come with me."

She didn't know what he meant, but she didn't care. She took his hand. They both stood and George began lead her to his bedroom. Joie was nervous. She didn't know what to think.

"George...." she said, hesitantly.

"Keep me company while I pack a bag," he said quickly and Joie knew that George recognized her sudden nervousness.

"Ok..." she answered with a gentle smile.

He suddenly stopped and turned to her. "Nothing is going to happen unless you want it to, Joie. You have my word."

Joie looked at him in the light from the living room fireplace. His hand was wrapped around hers and her heart felt suddenly so light. Nothing else mattered. Nothing. Joie wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him, and feel his body pressed to hers.

She closed her eyes for a moment. "I know. I know that because of who you are."

He smiled and pulled her close to him. He kissed her lightly on the lips and they walked into his bedroom.

George proceeded to pack a bag as Joie laid down on his bed. She struggled to stay awake...to keep him company....but soon, her eyes closed. She wanted to get up so he could at least lay down to get some sleep, but she just couldn't open her eyes. At one point, she felt him lay down beside her but she couldn't move to get up. Within minutes, she was asleep.

Had she been awake, she would have felt him kiss her forehead again and whisper, "Sweet dreams, love."

..........

She awoke with a start and jumped up from the bed. The sun was up. She called out, "George?" but there was no answer. He was gone. Gone for 3 weeks.

Joie missed him already.

The strength of her feelings surprised her. Was this love? She had no idea. But she knew by the shiver that shot up her spine when George was close to her, something was going on. When he kissed her forehead, she felt butterflies in her stomach. This was all new to her. Charlie was the only person she could even relate this to, and he was a nightmare in comparison. He got very angry when she turned him down to have sex. He'd storm off and Joie found she really didn't care. Her first time was going to be with someone she loved, not some sex obsessed teenager. That she knew for sure.

Joie changed into her clothes and spent the day reorganizing the kitchen and running the kittens to the litter box. They were good company especially when they ran under her legs as she was trying to work. The phone rang about 6pm and Joie answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ah, you are still there," George said lightly. "I was afraid you had packed up and left for the States."

"Nah," Joie told him with a laugh. "The kittens need me."

"How are they?"

"Good. I'll get them to the vet before you get back. Is there anything you need me to do here?" Joie asked him.

"I'm having some things delivered day after tomorrow. If you could be there to let them in..."

"Sure. What's coming?"

"Some music equipment."

"Ok," Joie told him. "How was your flight?"

"It was fine. Tired though. Didn't sleep much last night."

"I know..." Joie answered sheepishly. "You must be exhausted."

"I'll be fine," he laughed. "And Joie, if you need me, call."

"I will. You too," she promised him.

And he hung up.

#the beatles #beatles #george harrison #george chapter of the day #cynthia lennon #beatlemania #writers on tumblr #writers #beatles fanfiction #beatle wives #fanfiction

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ask-the-dweets · 1 year ago

Text

Dwight "Elf" Fairfield

(Known as Dwight in most AUs) Pronouns: He/him Gender: Cis male Sexuality: Demisexual/poly Age: 25 Height: 5'10" (179cm) Time in the fog: 25+ years, he's lost track

Elf's main build: Prove Thyself, Unbreakable, Resilience, Iron Will

His perks are primarily to keep himself running no matter what. If he's up he can help the team, and he'll do his best to carry that team and take the heat if needed.

Elf's other available perks: Elf can use any and all survivor perks!!! but some others he often uses are Dead Hard, Adrenaline, and Decisive Strike

Playstyle: Aggressive He's either working on generators or distracting the killer. He's not one to dick around in a trial. He can act like a completely different person sometimes with how energetic he can be with griefing a killer for it to attack him. You know those really annoying Dwights that will loop you the entire game and be a dick about it? Yeah that’s him.

Favoured item: A flashlight or medkit, though he can find a use for almost anything. And if he can’t he’ll hand it off to another teammate that can use it.

🎄Get to know Elf under the cut! 🎄

Elf’s past is a little muddled to himself at this point, and sometimes past reminiscing from the other Dwights make him confused on which memories are actually his, but:

He didn’t have it very easy, his parents were overbearing and always pushing him into things he didn’t want to do, and places he knew he wasn't suited for being in. It sort of gave him his more detached, distant behaviour. It was also extremely common for him to fail in most outlets of his life or be picked on by others for being a pushover.

This was no different when he finally got a decent job at Peak 22.

The boss, Lazar, had found Dwight to be a great punching bag for the few months he had worked there. The pay was too good for Dwight to really consider leaving...yet. He could handle it for a while longer until he found something better.

There had been a ‘teambuilding exercise’ that was mandatory for all of the Peak 22 workers to go to, a camping trip. Nobody particularly wanted to be there, including himself. His boss brought out his patented moonshine for the event, bolstering it to be the best of the best. Everyone rolled their eyes, but nobody refused Lazar. They didn’t want to lose their jobs. Dwight isn’t sure if his drink was spiked or if he was just that bad at holding his liquor but either way when he came to, everyone was gone. Probably another one of Lazar’s great pranks, but he never made it back home.

5 songs I associate with Elf:

(Warning: This is at the mercy of mod's taste in music :P) Main song: Not Havin a Blast - Demi the Daredevil I'm not a good person - Pat The Bunny People Watching - Air Traffic Controller Every Day is Exactly the Same - Elektrik People Don't Save Me - Chxrlotte

Spotify Playlist (Songs that remind me of Elf, Warning: It's depressing)

Potentially one of the first Dwights in the fog, if not the first

He’s been trapped in the fog longer than he had been alive outside of it and has gone through multiple campfires

His first and longest campfire was with his original crew consisting of most of the older survivors. This is where he had a relationship with Jake, Meg, and Claudette, unfortunately they later faded into the void but somehow he managed to stay for the other survivors still at the campfire

Even now he holds onto friendship bracelets that belonged to them

From his other friends fading he had a brief stint with the Trapper, Evan, too. Who taught him a lot about the killer side of things. Unfortunately it didn't go over well and his campmates no longer trusted him; he was forced to separate himself from Evan and was ostracized from the other survivors for a long time.

It left him bitter.

When Fancy finally came around Elf was nearing the void, but was brought back by the need to help Fancy through the hellscape of the fog

At that point he had been able to have a small rag-tag campfire of other survivors that trusted him

He’s very protective over Fancy and tries to look out for him

At this point Elf is quite jaded and moody, and is generally untrusting of most people and places. It comes from being burned too many times in the fog, and at this point he’s too far gone to bother to make solid connections with other people anymore.

He’s likely to push away or lash out at someone if they try to get close to him, the loneliness and the desperation to be loved is still there but it comes out as anger when he tries to fight it

He’s likely nearing the void again

Though he’s not as approachable or as nice as Fancy he still tries to be friendly, to other survivors, if distant

He has a soft spot for any member of the OG 4

He doesn’t really feel fear properly anymore, if at all

In a trial he is in full work mode and will always calculate how to be the most efficient he can be. Often with the other two Dwights that means he’s on running duty.

He has no regard for his own life and will throw himself in the way for others If he deems it a wise decision for the team, it’s more just going through the motions than for proper regard to the other.

In trials, Elf can sometimes come off as a completely different person. Energetic, loud, and fiery, whatever he needs to be to get the killer’s attention.

He absolutely HATES the Elf costume, and because of it now he also hates bells. Even jokes about it can put him in a bad mood. He still doesn’t necessarily dislike Christmas, but he does hate it when it is associated with himself.

The sweater is itchy, the bells are annoying, the shoes are inconvenient and uncomfortable, and the tights are... well, tight.

He spaces out on occasion, it rarely happens in trial but it can be rather common at the campfire. He also often falls asleep when he doesn’t mean to.

He’s constantly tired, he used to be fatigued from stress and fear… now it just feels like static. He often thinks he feels numb.

Knows the names of all of the killers (refuses to use them) and is adept in noticing changes in trials/maps

Doesn’t really stutter at all, may stutter if surprised but he’s more likely to freeze up.

He pauses in his speech when he’s feeling uncomfortable

Nervous habits: He prefers being more closed off from others, covering his chest by folding his arms, slouching forward and generally just looking less approachable

In-Game Reference: Mr. Elf Outfit (Only forced to wear it in trials!! He can wear whatever he wants outside of it!)

His other main outfit he wears often (Designed by @dwhatsup)

He often wears it without the jacket, gloves and beanie

#elf dwight #art of elf #reference #artwork #and that's all of them!!!#lots of secrets being revealed in all of their little descriptions XD #but this blog has been around long enough I think it's fine to share!#and it might give you guys more to be able to ask!

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