#leslie doesn’t lie! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cypanache · 4 months

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Hi! I recently read Patchwork Heart (like twice in two days) and I now have brainrot from that fic. (Which is to say that I loved it.) And I’m sad that it’s incomplete but I’m grateful that you wrote it, and all your other Parks and Rec fics. I remember reading a comment from you (from like 11 years ago lol) where you said you’d been writing for 14 years and you encouraged someone who was feeling bad about their own writing. Which gave me the motivation to keep writing, and made me think, how awesome must it be to be a fanfic writer for so long? This is a rambly comment to say that I’m glad you’re still writing (even if it’s not for Parks heh) and you’re a great inspiration!

(Also I’m aware this isn’t a question but I don’t really know how Tumblr works)

Well this ask officially made my year. (P.S. - Asks don't have to be questions. Especially when they're as lovely as this)

You know every once in a while I think, am I being totally ridiculous just leaving my live journal out there like that? Really, who's going out and reading stuff from over 11 years ago, except ... yeah I've totally done that myself. And I'm forever grateful for the authors who let their stuff just float along and exist. So I'm gratified to know that I did that for you today. And extremely gratified to know that I was able to give you a little motivation to keep writing. I have been doing this for over twenty years with varying levels of success and intensity as my life evolves, but I keep coming back to it, because really at the end of the day, fanfic is one of those hobbies that more than anything make me feel like me. When you find that, you owe it to yourself to hold onto it. Even if you can't do it perfectly or quickly.

I am not going to lie, I'm very sad Patchwork Heart is incomplete as well. That was an unfortunate product of life circumstances overwhelming me and by the time I paddled my way to the surface my emotional relationship with Parks had changed. But I am forever in love with the complete human disaster that was teenage Ben Wyatt in that fic.

Sooooo this isn't much, but this ask made me go back through my google docs. Here have part of a camping trip:

Griggs-Knope-Wyatt (Whatever) Family Vacation

Hell – 375-369 days to go

Yeah, it’s official, Ben does not get camping.

At all.

Look he gave it a fair try. But he just- he doesn’t get it all right. He doesn’t get what’s so fun about sleeping on the floor (”Ground,” Marlene informs him, “It’s called a ground when it’s outside, dear.") or getting so many mosquito bites, or having to make sure your food is put up in a certain way so raccoons won’t get to it. And you know what he really doesn’t get?

Ghost stories.

He does not get ghost stories. They’re not scary. They’re particularly not scary if your dad is telling them. And when your step-mom takes over and does manage to tell a scary one, well then you’re outside, in the dark . . . scared.

Oh and his tent collapses on him in the middle of the night.

Yup, okay. Not. Having. Fun.

Ben just wishes he could convince himself that’s actually because of the camping.

Leslie’s been withdrawn and subdued for the past two days. Not angry, just quiet. He tried to talk to her yesterday morning like a dozen times, but the one time he got anywhere the fact he was trying to take the whole thing seriously only seemed to make it all worse.

He doesn’t know what to do for her. Has the sneaking suspicion there’s actually nothing he can do. Or at least nothing he’s willing to do.

So yeah, maybe he’s going to just lie here under the wreckage of what used to be his tent for a little while.

Except he can’t even seem to manage that, because the next thing he knows there’s the sound of footsteps and a flashlight is being shined into his eyes like an interrogation lamp.

“Benjamin?”

Ben holds up a hand to shield his eyes and squints up at the outline of his step-mother standing over him. “Umm, hi?”

“Benjamin dear. Your tent’s on the ground,” she informs him as though she’s not entirely sure he’s aware of this fact. Sometimes he’s pretty sure his step-mother thinks he’s an idiot.

“Yeah, so umm, funny story about that. You know what it was, it- it fell.”

The fact he always winds up saying stuff like that around her probably doesn’t help.

Marlene doesn’t respond for long moment, and even though he can’t see her face he can pretty much picture it. It’s a face he’s pretty familiar with. The one that says ‘I worry about your ability to dress yourself in the mornings’.

“I don’t- I’ve never really camped,” he continues, unable to help himself. Marlene’s silences are just about the most effective interrogation technique he’s ever encountered. No wonder Leslie’s usually so talkative.

“I never would have guessed,” she shoots back, before adding, “Well, should I just leave the two of you alone or would you like some help putting it back up?”

“No- no, help would be good.”

There’s a long pause, then: “Ben, dear.”

“Yeah?”

“You need to get out of the tent.”

“Oh. Right.”

---

So in a surprising turn of events (at least in his opinion), Marlene actually turns out to be a pretty good teacher. Like okay she isn’t the most patient person in the world, but she’s incredibly precise in her explanations of how to do things like tie a hitch-knot, and Ben’s always been more comfortable with precision over intuition, so it doesn’t take him too terribly long to catch on, and when she pats him lightly on the knee in approval, it feels like getting an A in your most demanding class from the teacher who scares the shit out of you.

All in all, Ben’s feeling kind of good about things by the time they get the tent back up, so when Marlene points out that it’s only an hour or so until sunrise and asks whether he wants to help her make coffee for breakfast, he says yes, thinking maybe things are looking up.

Yeah, no, that was obviously just designed to lull him into a false sense of security.

“So,” Marlene opens without warning or preamble, “Leslie tells me I’m returning the Purdue sweatshirt.”

He barely manages not to tip over his cup of coffee. “Yeah, um, sorry about that.”

“Ben didn’t we talk about that? Um-”

“Is the sound in dumb. Yeah I know.”

The look she gives him could level small countries. Ben keeps his head down and tries not to have an aneurysm.

How does he get himself into these situations? Really why is it sarcastic, smart-aleck things always come out of his mouth at exactly the wrong time. It’s not like he’s trying to be a wise-ass. He’s not really trying to be anything really. (Except maybe invisible. Invisible would be nice right now.) But for some reason it happens anyway, and he can’t seem to stop it. It’s like this leak, this crack in his personality. Ninety-five percent of the time he manages to be exactly the kind of guy he should be, the kind he thinks Virginia Wyatt would have wanted him to be. The kind of son his perpetually fragile father seems to need. Quiet and polite and respectful. But every once in awhile the pressure of keeping everything else in just gets to be too much and these little drops of acid seep through, landing where they’re not wanted and scarring once they’re there.

Except Marlene Griggs-Knope doesn’t scar that easily.

“Oh, sit up straight. Really, Ben if you keep going through life acting like a spineless jellyfish, it won’t just be Leslie who treats you like one.”

“I don’t.” he mutters under his breath.

Only he says it to the picnic table so that probably undermines his whole protest. He forces himself to sit up and look Marlene in the eye (Okay, it’s more like her forehead, but come on, cut him a little slack here. Do you want to look Marlene in the eye? Yeah, that’s what he thought. Shut up.</i>)

“Leslie doesn’t-”

But he can’t make himself complete the thought, because . . . yeah, sometimes she kind of does. And, shit, it’s Leslie’s mom, and Marlene’s giving him this look that clearly says ‘don’t bullshit me about my own daughter.’ Still, Leslie treats everyone like that, at least everyone important to her. Ann gets, like, twenty-three instructions a day. And, well, he likes it. It’s been a really long time since anyone paid that much attention to anything he did. It’s how he knows he’s important, that she cares. If she ever stopped trying to micromanage his life, well then he’d just be another ordinary person on the outside, wouldn’t he?

He opens his mouth to try again, but Marlene waves his efforts away with a dismissive hand. Oh good, apparently he’s now already used up whatever small amount patience she had allotted for him today, and it’s only, what? Five-thirty in the morning? This is probably some kind of new record for him.

Yaaaay . . .

At that moment from across the campsite, Leslie unzips her tent and steps out into the new dawn, only to freeze, eyes going wide, at the obviously unexpected sight of Ben sitting at the picnic table with her mother.

He tries to remember enough Morse code to blink her a S.O.S.

And any other morning it wouldn’t matter that he’s pretty sure he just looks like he’s having an epileptic fit, Leslie would have already come over and rescued him.

Instead she just turns back around, grabs her towel and a bar soap out of the tent and trudges off to the shower facilities, leaving him alone with Marlene to fend for himself.

Okay, Leslie is officially really upset.

“She will get over it.”

At Marlene’s observation, Ben whips his head back around only to find himself pinned by his step-mother’s sharp assessing gaze.

It feels like all the oxygen just got sucked out of the . . . well, earth.

He opens his mouth to stammer out a disclaimer but only manages a strangled kind of gurgle, which Marlene, thankfully, ignores.

“Leslie is no stranger to disappointment. She’s a very resilient girl. Always has been.” She says it matter-of-factly and maybe even a little proudly, then immediately counterbalances it with a sigh of exasperation. “Realism, however, is unfortunately not your step-sister’s strong suit. Particularly when it comes to people.”

Ben just presses his lips together and fiddles a little with his coffee cup, drumming his fingernails against the metal. He’s not really sure why Marlene’s telling him all this. Not that any of it is exactly revelation. To know anything about Leslie is to know she puts too much faith in life in general and people in particular.

So no it’s not like he doesn’t realize Leslie’s been disappointed by people before—her father, Lindsay . . . And then suddenly it clicks with him, the why behind all of this.

People leave.

In Leslie’s world, people leave her.

For some reason he’s never thought about it before, about her history and the painful lessons life’s given her. After all, he’s the one with the dead mother, the great tragedy that defined his entire fucking existence before he met her; that he wears like a poorly healed scar on his personality. Leslie always seemed so untouched by comparison.

But she’s not. He can see that now.

Because yeah, maybe his mother was ripped out his life.

But people walk out of hers.

By their own choice.

Of their own free will.

Ben drops his head to stare down at the film that’s started to form on his rapidly cooling coffee in shame as he realizes he’s been making plans to join them, to go off to college and then conscientiously extricate himself from her life, little by little, bit by bit, until he’s down to a subsistence diet. To the bare-essentials of what he needs to survive. Never once thinking about Leslie’s needs.

God, he is such an ass.

Marlene who has been silent for a little while, gets up to pour herself another cup of coffee, before coming over to sit back down and drop another bombshell on him. “You know, sometimes I wonder if your father and I should have waited until after the two of you went to college to get married.”

Oh god. He feels a cold finger of dread crawl its way down his spine at her words, and suddenly all he can think is: She knows. She knows how he feels about her daughter, and he’s going to die. Up here in all this outdoors, Marlene probably knows a dozen ways to kill him and make it look like an accident. Maybe that’s why they’re camping in the first place. Maybe this was her plan all along . . .

It’s about this time that the rest of what Marlene’s saying starts to sink in. “—it’s not that we’re not happy you two get along so well. After all, that’s the whole reason we decided to get married when we did. Give all of us the chance to try to be a family. But--” she purses her lips, and narrows her eyes, “Maybe we were a little too successful?”

And the terror’s back. “Too successful?”

“Up until two days ago, all Leslie ever talked about was going to IU and being close to home. She’s already learned the fight song.” That makes him almost smile despite himself, because of course she has. He bites the inside of his mouth just in time to stop it. Marlene continues. “And your father tells me you’ve been collecting brochures for out of state schools ever since the two of you moved to Indiana. But suddenly here I am buying sweatshirts for Purdue.”

“I didn’t ask-”

Marlen waves his protest away. “Of course you didn’t.” Then in a seeming nonsequitor: “Did you know Ann Perkins did Model UN all last year?”

-----

When I get a little more time I'll try to bullet point out for you where I was going.

#cy writes things #parks and rec #ben wyatt #leslie knope #leslie x ben #step-sibling au

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year

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Freddy Krueger+Jason Voorhees x Manipulative!Cruel!Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You’re infamous in this universe (The Leslie Vernon universe. All Slashers exist, they’re kinda like legends/celebrities), for fucking with both Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger. One of them just wasn’t enough for you. You needed love and sex (And neither one was going to give you both).

Obviously it all went up in flames when they found out about eachother, and even though nowadays you live in your own self-built prison to protect yourself from their wrath, you retain that it was fun while it lasted.

Long story short though- they find you.

Warnings: Cheating (Reader. Really, reader is terrible 😅 ), almost dacryphilia? (Again, reader. But I wouldn’t put it past Freddy either- just not here), guns (Reader and Freddy), gun wounds (Jason), violence (Reader… ) and attempted murder (Freddy and Jason).

I love writing reader into a terrible person. If you'd like to read more of the reader being evil- I recommend this work! 😈 :

Oneshot: Jennifer Check+Inkubus x EvillerReader- Turned human.

There’s a knock at your door not 15 minutes after you ordered Chinese food, and it makes you suspicious. Watching the door, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pulled taught in a firm line, you think- Your food shouldn’t be here yet… Who the hell is at the door?? After a few moments, they knock again and you swiftly get up off the couch. On your way to the door, you listen out intently for any noises outside, but all you hear is tapping- like someone really impatient is waiting out there.

When you get to the door you rise up to your tip-toes quietly and peak through the little peephole, damning the way your bones creak at the motion.

On your porch is a boy, you realise. Well, a man- but recently a boy. No one you’re interested in, either way… you like a little more, in men. This one’s too plain for your tastes. And on top of that, he’s not carrying a bag of fried rice.

Ugh… You open the door anyway and lean against the frame; Assessing him lazily with bored eyes. “Hello? Can I help you?”

“… Y/N??” The fact that he knows your name has you standing straight again, ready to slam the door in his face. You dont even give DoorDash your real name, and you have as intimate a relationship as you can have with an app, with that one. And he also looks far too pleased to see you. “Y/N L/N??”

“Uh, no, the bitch moved last year.” You attempt to lie, thinking maybe he doesn’t know what you look like. It’s worth a try, anyway. Shrugging, you cross your arms, leaning casually against the doorframe still. “Whore stopped paying her rent, so I had to kick her out. What do you want with the skank?”

“Really?? Cuz you uh, you fit her description to a T. A little older I guess, but- “

WHAT!? “Excuse you??” Older??? You are still hot as hell, thanks very much- “- Uhh, I mean… “Your face is tight as you force a smile against your cheeks, one hand on the doorhandle so as to shut it on the little twirp as soon as possible. “Well I’m not her, so… off you go. Goodluck. Thanks so much for coming by~ … “Not.

Having decided that this less-than-pleasant porch conversation is over, you try to close the door and lock it- but the guy reaches over and puts a hand on it to keep it open. Your jaw drops, surprised at the utter gall, wondering whether you should pepper spray him… when you notice the desperation on his face. It makes you pause, at least, and narrow your eyes. What is this?

“Please, Ma’am. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Okay now you’re not liking that look in his eye at all. Too excited, too pleased. What does he want?? You’ve had people track you down for all sorts of reasons before. As bait for Jason and Freddy or to sacrifice you to them, as well as to fuck you, to kill you themselves, to interview you, to ask you to kill them (There are some real freaks in this world, you came to learn over the years after what happened), and a million other crazy things that you… well, that you did actually cash in on sometimes, like the guy that wanted you to wear one pair of socks for 3 weeks at a time and then mail them to him for money, and a girl that wanted your old make-up for a good price also- and- what?! You hit hard times! The point is, you don’t like the looks of this guy and your panty-selling days are behind you.

He’s leaning so hard on the door to keep it open that when you abruptly sigh, and let it go, he falls forward into your home and only just manages to catch himself before face-planting into your carpet. “Fine, what do you want? It has been a while since a fan put in the work and found me… maybe I’ll get a laugh out of it.”

“Fan??” Oh, you don’t like the way he says that. Like it’s an utterly insane thought. Narrowing your eyes at him, though, gets him to buck up as he stands up straight again and shakes his head damn quickly. “No no! Yes, I mean, I’m a fan- a huge fan!! I just meant- you’re a goddess, to me. I’m more like a… a devoted. God- this is so exciting- meeting you! Y/N L/N! Wow. You’re just- even more beautiful than the articles say!”

Okay… he’s growing on you. Making up for that ‘older’ comment, before. A little.

You close the door behind him and lock it. Of course, he can still get out- that’s not the point. Your front door just always has to be locked. You learnt that the hard way the year that the Sawyers found you and those inbred freaks tried to take you on Jason’s behalf… Now your door is made of 6 inches of steel- not even that skin mask wearing loser can get through it with that puny chainsaw of his. And it must be locked. “So… what’s your name?”

“Leslie Vernon.” He says it with pride, like you should know it. When you just look at him blankly after, he deflates slightly. “I’m an up-and-comer!”

“… an up-and-comer?” You blink, very confused. What is this strange boy on about…?

“I’m gonna be a Slasher.” Leslie explains, and you just look at him even more dubiously. This one is a few sandwiches short of a picnic, that’s for sure- “One of the big ones. Like Jason and Freddy- I’ve been working hard for a while for it- and its finally gonna happen in a few weeks. Even got a camera crew to document it!! That’s why I’m here actually-” Okay no, you’ve heard enough.

“If you think for one second that I’m gonna be in your little movie, you are out of your damn mind, kid.” Didn’t he see your door? You do not play around with personal safety, here. If ‘Frason’ found you, you would be skinned.

And you have honestly spent too much time spreading honey and avocado and mud across your face with a stick to let it go quite so easy. Ugh, you can feel a headache coming on…

“No no! I was hoping you’d- you’d maybe… know how to find them. Like, how do I get Krueger’s attention?”

“Fishnets always did it for me.” You sigh, rubbing your temples. Through the pain in your brain, you try to think- what to do with this guy? Would anyone miss him if he just disappeared? “Also he’s got this weird thing about pigtails… “

“Where’s crystal lake?”

“Oh, yeah, you just go down Momma’s Boy Lane and then take a short cut through celibacy territory and you’re there.”

“Aww, gimmie something!!” He whines and oh- lord. You could smack him for it. The sound only makes your head feel worse, and its unbelievably obnoxious. This here is why you never had kids! - “You’ve got something I know it. I think they’d be some great colour for the movie, and if you could just, y’know, gimmie a hint- cuz you’re, you know, the Freddy Krueger-Jason Voorhees expert- “

The words stop abruptly when he notices that you’re not really listening, anymore… you’re giggling. The pain turned into delirium pretty quickly when he said their names, and it gets worse fast- turning into raucous laughter, the kind that bends you back and draws tears to your eyes. You’ve got a sweater paw covering your contorted face and muffling the noises but it’s not too helpful making Leslie thinking that you’re any less crazy, really. Which is fine; You are a little crazy. It’s okay; You’ll own it. After all, you earned that crazy. “You want… oh my gosh,” You’re struggling to speak as the cackles start dying down, because they keep bubbling up again when you try to talk. “You want… fuck, sorry sorry!!- Haha!- “

Finally, you manage to calm down, releasing a sigh. Oh, a good laugh is always appreciated - especially in your little, secluded world, - but the fun’s over. “Ahh… Alright, Fanboy.” You suddenly snap, making him jump. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but he’s still not your type. “Tell me if I have this totally wrong, here, but, did you came here to me, knowing how I’m, ya know… notorious, for betraying these Slashers you’re after, and really enjoying it also, which is not a rumour by the way, I really did… to actually ask if I can… introduce you???” Creating a temple with your fingertips together, you raise your brows at him for this next part when he doesn’t deny it. “… Are you out of your mind, kid?”

“I know you know how to get in contact with them. No one knows them better than you, Y/N. You’re the expert- “

“O-kay, that’s really, really getting old.” You roll your eyes, slipping onto the couch again and bringing your knees up to your chest. “First of all I’m more than the girl that made that big bad forest man fall for her, and fucked Freddy Krueger. I also happen to be a great chess player, and my crochets are the bomb.” Sighing, you run a hand through your hair; Bored once again. “Second of all- I’ve got dinner coming and I’m not big on sharing. I know- shocker. So yeah, you should go.”

“I just wanted to- “

“Out.”

“Come on!- “

Ughhhhh- “Did I mention I have 7 rottweilers?”

“Bye.”

“But wait hey-” Before Leslie can make it out the door, you turn back at the last second- and flash a smirk. He stops, looking suspicious. “If you do find them, it’s been a while- so give them my love.”

~ Months Later ~

You knew after you watched that stupid movie of Leslie’s that you were in for trouble. He mentioned you more than once, and your information was in the credits. Now, that probably wasn’t his doing as he supposedly ‘died’, but that didn’t piss you off any less.

Still, you didn’t leave your home. It’s not like Freddy was going to get anywhere near you with the Hypnocil you’ve been constantly half-high on for the last two decades. And you had a good set up where you are!- the whole place is built custom for you, so the walls are built up so strong that Jason couldn’t tear them down even if he came with a bulldozer, the windows are bullet proof, and the latches are military-grade. Not to mention your dogs out there ready to tear any trespasser to pieces and the security system built into every wall and floorboard. If anyone so much as huffed through the mail slot on the front door, you and everyone from here to the nearest Police Station would hear about it.

Plus you own a lotta guns, hidden in some very wacky places. Even if one of them did manage to sneak in, they wouldn’t get anywhere close to you before you created so many holes in them that they would look like Swiss cheese.

Still, though- you knew they would come, at least. Somehow, word of the movie would reach them and they would come for you.

But you’ve never been scared of them before and that was not going to start now. Come on… you ate those boys for breakfast 20 years ago. The thought that you would fear them now is honestly funny.

So when you wake up one night to the sound of metal screeching against metal, you aren’t surprised and you’re not scared- just frustrated. You don’t even open up your eyes, at first, just hoping it was in your head. But you sense eyes on you.

Face smooshed into the duck-feather pillow beneath your head, you continue to pretend to be sleeping… but let your arm fall down the side of your bed. Your fingertips just brush the cold metal of a gun under there, but a large hand encloses around your wrist, and you’re yanked up rapidly into a sitting position. Your eyes are wide for a moment and flicking up Jason’s form, surprised at the sudden attack… before you take a deep breath, set the giant with a stern look, and shake your head; Voice gentle when you speak. Gentler than you’ve ever truly been, except for when you were with Jason. “… Jason. Sweetheart- let me go, I’ll bruise.”

He just tightens his grip, making you almost gasp- but you manage to stop yourself. Close your mouth again, muffle the sound. You don’t like to show weakness.

Especially not in front of your own damn victims.

“Mm… Okay, okay, I get it… “Glaring, and twisting your wrist in his iron grip, you give a little yank of your own- testing his persistence. And your conjoined limbs barely move, so, its safe to say that he is really, quite determined here. Damnit. “… You’re mad… “You go on, through grit teeth. Mostly just buying for time while you give the room a quick comb over. “That’s okay, I would be too…” No sign of Freddy, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. That sound that woke you up was definitely his calling card. “So, uh- you alone, or?... “You need to know what you’re dealing with here; Your contingency plans are specific.

“You wish he was alone, princess~… “

With that you look around again with a deep frown, quite surprised to hear his voice but not see him at all. What?- Where the hell- While your wrist is stuck in Jason’s giant clenched hand, your field of vision is limited but you lean away from Jason to peak over the other side of the your bed- and-

Immediately freeze. Your own breath catches in your throat, starring down the barrel of your own gun, the one you had been reaching for before Jason caught you, behind which lay a set of familiar, cold eyes and a terrible smirk; Freddy’s finger on the trigger. You didn’t hear the safety click off but that’s not surprising- none of your guns ever have the safety on. “… Cat caught your tongue, bitch??... “

“… Hi, there, Freddy… “You greet carefully, cautiously leaning straight up again as he gets up off the floor slowly, gun still trained on your forehead. Yes, you’re being careful- but you know damn well guns have never been his style, so the chances that he’ll shoot you on purpose are… slim. He may accidentally pull the trigger, though, after he inevitably makes himself laugh like a damn howler monkey. Impulsive, ridiculous idiot that he is.

Still, just like you couldn’t help the softer tone your voice took talking to your Jason- you can’t even hope to fight the urge to raise your free hand like a criminal caught red-handed and give Freddy a smirk. Old habits do die hard, after all. “Wanna play cops and robbers, then?~ “

“In you dreams sweetheart~… “He responds, face rearing in close to yours- he just can’t help himself. And you knew that, waiting for him to get close enough before suddenly reaching up to steal the gun right out his hand and elbow him directly in the face. “Oh!”

Swiftly you then turn to Jason, pointing the gun directly against his forehead. You don’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger, causing the adorable boor to let you go and slowly lean back, not dead but surprised for sure.

“Sorry Jason!” You quickly hop off the bed while the two Slashers are reeling from the injuries, grab a pack of matches from your dresser by the door and start hurrying through the house- socks sliding against the hardwood floor a little. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I hate that dumb little ‘up-and-comer’, ugh- Oh shit!”

Freddy’s behind you in no time, having recovered from the nose-shot a lot faster than Jason could pick up his giant form off the floor. You slam a couple of doors behind you for him to run into, but only succeed in having him run face-first into the surface the first time. You even fling a vase back at him and drag an armchair into his way Sydney Prescott style, but it only buys you just enough time to stab in the code to your panic room- not enough to get in, though.

… I knew Final Girls were full of shit-

“Not this time- “Freddy growls, non-gloved hand latching onto your arm and twisting it painfully around so you turn to him. But, again, you refuse to show the pain; Instead you just grit your teeth through it, glaring in his face and the alien-green blood dripping out his nose. He’s not phased, though, smirking through his own anger. “You’re not getting away this time, bitch.” While Jason approaches dangerously behind him, machete in-hand and dirty dark-coloured blood painting his mask, Freddy raises a bladed finger to your face.

This is not your first rodeo, though. You are not scared of that diseased old thing. That thing was just foreplay for years. And you certainly aren’t scared of them, either. Freddy goes to say something more, but you raise your gun again, making him back up off you; Hands raised. You roll your eyes. “’Not this time’- what are you? A scooby-doo bad guy? I should-”

While your attention was solely on Freddy, you somehow don’t notice Jason glide by him but then that machete is dug into the wall closest to your head and the behemoth is leaning over you, breathing hard, and your eyes widen under the shadow he casts.

“… Jason.” Your voice actually goes small, under his gaze right then. You hate it, but it does. You actually loved Jason, at one point. Really, you did. Well- as deeply as you would ever be able, to love… anyone… It just wasn’t in you to be all his- or all Freddy’s for that matter though that situation was pretty different to this one.

… But the pain in Jason’s eyes, the frustration and sadness that he’s bleeding not you with those eyes- one wide open and the other still adorably droopy like he desperately needs a good nap, - is all yours. And yeah- you feel a little bit bad.

And a little something else, too. A little something that you thought dissipated in you. The love, you felt.

God, you must be evil. Because that sad look on his face turns you on.

“I… “… Okay. Taking a deep breath, you flick the safety on and tuck your gun into the side of your pyjama pants. He’s not going to listen if you’re holding a gun to his face. Never mind the one you already shot him in the head with. Duh- “Jason, I- “

~ Change of POV ~

“Don’t listen to a fucking word out of that bitch’s mouth, hockey puck- “

The glare Y/N flashes Freddy is downright violent; Vicious and visceral and if he were another man he would’ve backed up. Y/N didn’t often go rabid, but that glare was still jarring- she was always a manipulator. Everything under her control. She saw something she wanted and soon enough it was under her thumb, and even if it got out - like the two Slashers, -, she always had a contingency plan.

She would drag Jason back under her control easy as pie. Then it would be all over for Freddy; For Y/N, Jason would try to take him down like the big nitwitted flunkey he is- like if his dead mommy asked him to.

There was definitely something Freudian going on here, but Freddy would have to taunt the bed-wetter about that some other time.

He can hear Y/N talking to Jason, though, and none of its good. “… I’m so sorry Jason... I really did love you… I- I still- “Oh, the stutter was good, he’d admit. But he had to kill the mood there before it got out of hand. Freddy could already see Jason going soft, for Y/N.

… Luckily, I’m pretty damn good at killing things. A fowl grin spreads across charred features.

“Oh Y/N~ Sorry to interrupt, but remember…~ Ol’ mommy’s boy there’s not the only man around here you’ve begged~ “

#Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees x Reader Oneshot #Freddy Krueger x Reader Oneshot #Jason Voorhees x Reader Oneshot #Oneshot #Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees x Reader #Freddy Krueger x Reader #Slashers #Slashers x Reader #Jason Voorhees #Freddy Krueger #Leslie Vernon

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jessilynallendilla · 11 months

Text

MY ADVENTURES WITHSUPERMAN REACTION

EPISODE 1:

Why is child Clark wearing glasses? He has no identity to hide yet unlike in Birthright. Other than that Baby~ and the S!

His alarm clock has a rooster on it

He’s a bumbling, nervous klutz because of his powers not because he’s trying to hide them. Being an adorable nerdy dork is just a bonus

“I had to save a cat” The writers understood the assignment

Clois meet cute

Look at Babygirl trying to flirt

Lady, you work with food, you shouldn’t put your shoes on the counter

Clark is such a Babygirl~ eating three dozen donuts so often the bakers got him his own bib

Little park Roomba

Ok I’m still not onboard with the whole race swapping Jimmy and Perry but I will give them this they made Jimmy an oblivious conspiracy theorist (why does our alarm clock keep exploding) at least it’s a personality besides Superman fanboy and Perry’s personality is spot on

Every buyer or fencer disappeared, wonder why that is?

Patty, I love you

If you're trying to be inconspicuous don't have a convoy of garbage trucks run a bunch of red lights

So, Metropolis is an island in this earth

Clark calls Lois out on using people and lying about it, and she admits she was wrong and grows as a person

Is Clark infused with nanotech?

Oooh oooh animation error his tie is in the rubble when Clark stumbles into frame he isn't wearing one but after Lois hugs him and apologizes it’s miraculously there

So, there’s no police or media coverage for the giant mech fight destroying the docks? And Perry has no interest at all?

EPISODE 2:

So, the baby sized pod grew under the fields, is it using the natural minerals in the earth? I mean it's been there for decades and nothing grew there

“I don’t think that’s a language from earth, son.” It sounds like a bunch of romance languages put together so Esperanto?

I don’t blame baby Clark for being scared that shit would be terrifying to a child

Flamebird, I understood that reference

What eyewitnesses at the dock, no one else was there but you

Jimmy trying to set up Clark and Lois together

Jonathan feigns stomach problems to get out of dodge, so that’s where Clark gets it

“It grew” so the spaceship is getting bigger, how big, will it take over the whole farm, the entire state of Kansas?

“I need to find out who I am, Ma.” “I know who you are, you’re my son.” oh my heart

Well, that’s different from a bunch of crystals

Jor El’s reaction when Clark says he doesn’t know him

Magical Girl nanotech transformation suit

Ma Kent getting Clark pants so his dick won’t show

Deathstroke is giving Lotor vibes not old bitch that gets his ass kicked by teenagers

Where was Leslie hiding those shoulder pauldrons?

Is Leslie fused with Krypton electricity nanites or something?

So, Leslie’s tech was also Kryptonian and that means those “military” mechs were also alien in origin and that spaceship battle and giant portal opening in the sky was pretty ominous, was that Clark’s wormhole or something more sinister? And does Clark just have a connection to all Kryptonian tech since he’s presumably infused with nanites? And does he still get his powers from the sun or is it the nanites, or do the nanites just enhance it?

Amazo billboard, is that just a reference or will the android show up later?

Clark cleans up his mess because he’s a good boy

So, it’s not going to be a Magical Girl transformation, he can change it like normal clothes

Dammit Jimmy they were about to kiss

Cat Grant, a gossip columnist, stole the byline of the downtown anime fight, so the rivalry begins

Les-Lie Willis

Oh, shit it’s Amanda Waller

now to wait a week for Episode 3

#superman #my adventures with superman #my adventures with superman spoilers

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kendrene · 2 years

Text

There are no more birthdays, after.

Kara is aging, albeit glacially slow. They just don’t celebrate her birthday anymore. She misses the cakes, she won’t lie, and Alex’s gag gifts, but birthdays were never a thing on Krypton anyway. Her people rather focused on the milestones of a life. The day a child was judged mature enough to choose their guild. The end of their apprenticeship. The first time a Kryptonian went off-world. The moment the creation matrix matched them to another, so that they could further their line.

In a way, she’s going back to her roots.

Kara’s okay with that.

***

With college being so busy, immortality is easier to forget. Somehow, it’s also harder to ignore, especially after Leslie.

Kara doesn’t mean for them to become close, she’s not even sure about the how.

It happens, though. Leslie kisses her and they fall in bed together, and Kara’s not able to stop it. She will reason with herself later, with Leslie’s question ringing in her ears (do you want to go on a date with me, Kara?), that it’s natural to crave the normalcy of going to class while holding hands. The want for the thrill of secrets whispered against a pillow in the dark. Taking each other’s clothes off, hands roaming unhurried.

To get lost in the sounds Leslie makes, in her scent, when Kara kisses at the crux of her thighs — doesn't she deserve that?

They’re together for an entire semester, the happiest seventeen weeks of Kara’s life this far, except perhaps for the month-long high of mastering flight. Leslie is nice. Caring, if a bit bossy. Kara doesn’t mind letting her lead. One night over drinks, their small circle of friends starts to tease them about marriage, about the life that they could have together after their college years are done.

“All I’m saying is— is—” They’re well past the third round, which means Siobhan sounds a little slurred, and Leslie get more than a little handsy. “Shit, everybody knows that if a couple lasts this long in college they end up married.” Kara makes a face, and Siobhan shrugs. raising both hands. “Look, it’s the rules.”

Kara laughs it off. Leslie doesn’t, though.

Leslie doesn’t and that’s enough to remind Kara she can’t have this. Even if it made Leslie happy to get married, maybe to have kids, Kara can’t go through with it, not when the knowledge she’s going to outlive them all bears down on her shoulders with the weight of a slab of concrete.

Kara breaks it off with Leslie later that night, telling herself that the fact she at least waited until everyone had left means she’s marginally less of an asshole.

***

Getting close to girls is dangerous for her, Kara decides.

Girls love softly. They love with their whole heart, and deeply from the start. Everything about loving girls is pure euphoria, a marching battalion of butterflies in the pit of Kara’s stomach.

It is the kind of love found inside books or seen in movies, star-crossed and meant to be. The sort that makes her want to dance and sing and stop strangers on the street to tell them how truly in love she is. More than once Kara catches herself thinking that immortality is not so big an obstacle for such a love as this.

With boys it’s not the same; Kara makes sure to seek out those who are only interested in sex. She gets a reputation. She’s easy. She sleeps around. She brings boy after boy after boy to her dorm room, sleeps with them in her cramped bed. She’s aware, although remotely, that they say unpleasant things behind her back, but doesn’t care.

The crippling loneliness gets worse, and eventually she stops sleeping with others altogether.

Getting close to people is dangerous for her, Kara amends.

She takes this new rule in stride, something she doesn’t necessarily understand but that can’t be disputed. It simply is, and Kara stores it with the other things about herself she can’t really explain. Files it next to the fact that it icks her if the veggies in her plate touch her other food, or that she can’t wear anything made out of wool since it feels like a million and one ants are walking on her skin.

Kara has found out her life is better if she doesn’t question things like these much. It’s best not to think too hard and simply follow.

It even works, for a while.

She graduates, moves to the big city, gets a job at CatCo. Kara is alone, yes, and that can be unbearable, but she is also happy.

Mostly.

Until, one day, Lena Luthor enters the picture.

Cellular Memory - Kara has got things well in hand when it comes to her powers. She can deal with being practically immortal, as long as she doesn’t get attached. It works. for a while, until meeting Lena Luthor messes up her plans. Read it on Patreon

#Cellular memory #supercorp #kara x lena #neurodivergent kara danvers #patreon update #dren writes

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daechwitatamic · 2 years

Note

WWH Drabbles: ALSO FOR CHAPTER 4!!!!!! We cannot forget about the movie night PLEASE, THIS ONE IS A FAV!!! What was he thinking??

What Was Hidden

POV Drabble #6: Not Afraid to Lie

WC: 3k

Warnings: language, angst, Taehyung is an idiot but wbk

The request: By @pamzn and this anon!

A/N: These scenes are from Chapter 4! :) Throwback to when I posted this without context because this is how my brainstorming went (:

Anyway, please enjoy!

Taehyung was hoping he’d see you over the weekend, but considering you’d been sick he hadn’t really had his hopes up. When his longtime friend Leslie texts him to hang out, he doesn’t think twice about it.

He and Leslie were friends going back to elementary school; their dads were business partners, and they’d spent many weekend evenings in the tv room at Taehyung’s house, staying out of the way while the adults talked. They’d been close through middle school - Leslie helping Taehyung with homework almost daily, and Taehyung elbowing his friends to shut them up when they talked about Leslie in the way the middle school boys tend to do.

The protective roles did two things for them. Firstly, it cemented their friendship. Secondly, it cemented them as only friends, deep in “basically siblings” territory. By high school, they were wing-manning for each other, swapping gossip and homework but nothing else. When they realized they both had been accepted to the same university, they’d laughed; it was exactly the kind of serendipitous thing that had followed their friendship for over a decade already.

Taehyung enjoyed Leslie and her friendship - she was strong, and bold, and didn’t take shit from anyone. Taehyung had always felt that, between the two of them, she was the stronger one, emotionally.

He’d just never seen her that way. And if she had… she’d never let him know.

And things had been off with them for a while. They’d spent the first few years at college spending tons of time together - attending the same parties, eating meals together in the caf, studying at the library. But slowly those hang-outs had fizzled, and then their texts grew less frequent. Taehyung had no idea why, but Leslie wasn’t big on talking about feelings, so he’d not pushed it. When she texted him to hang out, he’d jumped at the chance, hoping it was a move back towards how things used to be.

So when Seokjin pokes his head into the living room to tell them he invited “Bridget and Company” over to watch a movie that night, Taehyung doesn’t think anything of it.

They order dinner instead of cooking that night. Taehyung and Leslie eat up in his room; he sits at his desk, her on his floor. They talk shit, music playing, until the food is gone. Then they venture downstairs for drinks.

“Taehyung,” Jin says, “will you take the garbages out before the girls come over? They don’t need to know how gross we are.”

Taehyung eyes the garbage can and the recycling can next to it; both nearly overflow.

“I’ll take the recycling,” Leslie offers, “so you only have to carry one bag.”

Now Taehyung can’t say no without looking like an ass, so he bags up the garbage and the recycling both, handing Leslie the lighter bag. They go out the back door and down the wooden steps, around the side of the house.

“Thanks,” Taehyung tells her, after hoisting the heavy garbage bag into the receptacle.

“Don’t mention it,” Leslie says easily. “So, is your new girlfriend coming over tonight?”

“If you say something stupid like that and scare her away, I will end you,” Taehyung tells her seriously. Leslie laughs from her belly, low and full.

“She’s not my girlfriend anyway,” Taehyung grumps, leading them back up the steps. “We’re barely even talking.”

“Are you gonna, like, abandon me to go cuddle?” Leslie teases.

“Are you going to be a menace all night?” Taehyung retorts.

He can practically feel her grin through the darkness, pleased at having pushed his buttons.

Taehyung steps back into the kitchen to find Jin helping the girls get drinks. You spot him and smile, raising a hand in greeting.

“Hey!” Taehyung says. Your smile flickers like a lightbulb that might go out, and then steadies.

Weird.

Taehyung leads Leslie back in to the living room, where Jungkook and Jimin are arguing over what movie to play. Taehyung plops in his normal spot on the couch, the one he always occupies when it’s just the guys at home. Leslie perches next to him, naturally, since she’s his friend.

Yoongi leads Kiko out of the kitchen and they sit near each other on the bigger sofa. Beside him, Leslie turns her phone to show Taehyung a stupid meme. He rolls his eyes, laughing. She leans against him, tucking her feet up on the couch to keep them warm. This is all so routine, so normal, that Taehyung barely notices as he shifts his arm over her shoulders to be more comfortable.

“That guy from my chem class just dm’ed me,” she murmurs, looking at her phone. “What do I say?”

Taehyung peers at her screen with her, watching as she tries to navigate the conversation, and almost misses when you and Bridget enter the room, taking the other two spots on the big couch.

When he does notice, he tries to catch your eye - ready to wave, ask how your day was, ask if you’re feeling better. You don’t look his way, instead turning to talk so quietly to Bridget that Taehyung can’t catch a word.

As the movie plays, Taehyung continues to try. You keep your eyes on the screen, your chin lifted just a touch too high, defensive. That’s the detail that strikes Taehyung, the thing that tips him off that you aren’t just super into the plot. He looks down at Leslie, who quirks an eyebrow at him.

She taps her phone and opens a note, typing, ‘she mad at you???’

Taehyung shrugs imperceptibly. Carefully, as to not be detected, he reaches for the phone and slides it onto his own leg.

‘No idea why…’ he types.

Leslie makes a very Leslie face, one that says, I have a theory.

Taehyung responds to this silent with his own raised eyebrow. She shakes her head but reaches for the phone again, erasing his sentence and typing, ‘you should talk to her later’.

At one point, you turn and your gaze snags on Taehyung’s for just a second. His heart jumps - is now his chance? But you turn away before he can so much as smile, determinedly training your eyes on the tv screen again.

What the fuck, Taehyung thinks, growing frustrated. He runs through the last day in his head; he’s sure he hadn’t said anything stupid.

When you get up, sometime after Yoongi and Kiko disappear down to the basement, Taehyung almost knocks Leslie off the couch in his rush to follow. He needs answers. He’s fine with a silent treatment if he deserves it, but he has no idea what he’d done to piss you off.

When he enters the kitchen behind you, you turn to see who it is. When you spot him, you make a wry half-smile. “Hey,” you say, turning away again. “Am I in your way?”

“No…” Taehyung says slowly. He’s not sure what game you’re playing - you literally ignored him all night, and now you’re acting super casual? “Y/N… are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

His voice comes out wrong. It’s too plaintive, too vulnerable. He shifts, tries to get it together.

When you turn to look at him, you look genuinely surprised by his question. “What? Of course not.”

Of course not? Then what the fuck is going on?

“You haven’t talked to me all night,” he points out. “You won’t even look at me.”

“I’m trying not to mess things up for you!” you retort, expression sliding a little closer to angry. “How do you think it would look to your girl if I did all that? I’ve dropped guys for less.”

It, honest-to-god, takes Taehyung almost a full minute to figure out what girl you’re talking about. He starts mentally flipping through the girls in his classes, wondering if you’d seen him talking about schoolwork with one of them and got the wrong idea. Then, it hits him. Leslie? Absolutely the hell not.

“She’s not my girl,” he protests. “We aren’t - ugh!” He breaks off, hearing how defensive he sounds. He needs to calm down. Did you really think he’d be that shitty? Is that what you think he’s like? He takes a quick breath, tries to give an explanation. “That’s… not what this is. It’s really not.”

He’s no good with words. He doesn’t know how to express the nature of this friendship, that there’s no threatening element here.

You, infuriatingly, just shrug. “It’s not my business, Taehyung.”

Just like you’d texted him after the night he got too drunk at the bar with you. And Taehyung might not be good with putting his thoughts and feelings into words, but he’s good at understanding - and he’s understanding you perfectly. “It’s not my business” means “it can’t hurt me”, and he’s not going to stand here and let you get away with that. Not when he knows it’s bullshit.

“That’s your favorite line, huh?” he retorts, crossing his arms.

“It is when it’s true,” you say calmly - and that pisses him off even more, that you’re calm and unbothered while he’s simmering with fury. He wants to tell you to drop the act, cut the crap, and be honest.

If you won’t, he will. He makes sure he has eye contact before he says - matching your calm, even tone - “I’m not sleeping with Leslie, Y/N.”

You blink at him in silence, and for a second he feels victorious, like he got through to you, battled past that thick outer wall and made it inside. Then he watches that cold look of yours, the one you sported the whole night he’d met you, as it takes over your face.

“Good for you,” you say flatly. “I don’t know why you feel the need to tell me that.”

Fuck, he’s so mad!

“Based on how you’ve acted all night, apparently I do need to tell you that!” he shouts, and you both turn to check the doorway, to see if his outburst carried. No one from the living room stirs, and you turn back to him, that same cold expression in place.

“You don’t,” you say, shaking your head to emphasize. “There’s nothing going on with you two? Great. There’s nothing going on with us, either. I don’t care what you do.”

Taehyung feels himself take a step backwards and wills himself into stillness.

This is the fucked up part - he knows it’s a lie. He knows you felt everything he did - at the diner, when he’d video-called you, at tutoring, at the bar. It was starting, he hadn’t imagined it.

So now I know you’re not afraid to lie, he thinks.

He refuses to play this game with you. There’s nothing going on? Fine. There’s nothing going on.

“Cool,” he says, as tonelessly as he can manage. “Glad we sorted that out.”

He doesn’t give you time to process or react, just turns and retreats back. Most of the occupants of the living room ignore him, but Leslie is looking, and Leslie is sharp.

“Were you yelling?” she whispers, as he settles back onto the couch next to her, temper still riled up and heart pounding.

He cuts his eyes at her, illogically mad that her presence is what made things fall apart.

“She thinks we’re… a thing. Wouldn’t listen when I said it isn’t true,” he mutters, eyes on his legs.

Leslie gives him a long, searching look that he can’t, or doesn’t want to, decipher.

“I think I’d like to go home,” she murmurs, her voice incredibly quiet and gentle - very, very unlike her. For this reason, and this reason alone, Taehyung nods slowly instead of pushing the issue.

“I’m driving Leslie home,” he says to whoever cares enough to listen, reaching for a jacket as he nears the front door. Leslie follows him out to the car, waiting patiently by the passenger side door as he presses the button to unlock it.

They sit in silence for a second as the engine starts, the radio connects to Taehyung’s phone, and the heater whirs to life.

“Did I piss you off, too?” Taehyung finally asks, feeling defeated.

The look she gives him is somehow pitying. Because she understands what he doesn’t.

“Taehyung,” she says, still gentle, and it’s so glaringly unlike how she’s ever talked to him before that it gives him a rush of adrenaline, like his bodily systems are telling him Danger! Danger! Danger!

“Leslie,” he mimics, because he’s scared and it’s his go-to defense mechanism.

“Imagine how it looks from the outside,” she says, after a long silence. “This thing with you guys has been slowly gaining momentum, and then - to her - you show up with another girl. Did you say anything to her ahead of time, that you were with a friend, or that you were looking forward to seeing her? Anything?”

“....No,” Taehyung admits, gut twisting. It hadn’t occurred to him that he should do that.

“My dummy,” Leslie says affectionately, reaching over to pat his shoulder.

“I’m allowed to have friends,” Taehyung defends himself hotly.

“You are,” Leslie agrees. “But how well does she know you, really? What does she know about you, about your character?”

Taehyung sulks and shifts the car into reverse, finally backing out of the driveway, instead of answering. In his opinion, you should know him better than to think he’d be playing you.

“It’s scary to open up to someone,” Leslie says a few minutes later, prompted by nothing more than her own mind still working over the situation. “It takes a lot to trust someone not to fuck with you.”

Sure, Taehyung thinks. That’s true enough. But, there’s nothing going on with us? I don’t care what you do? Fuck.

“It doesn’t matter,” Taehuyng mutters, flicking on the turn-signal to pull into campus. “She said she’s done.”

Leslie reaches down to the floor of the car and picks up her purse as Taehyung pulls over in front of her dorm. “Talk to her,” she says, as she unbuckles and opens the car door. She pauses, considers her next words. As she climbs out and turns around to shut the door, she repeats, “Talk to her. She’s not done.”

“What do you mean?” Taehyung blurts, leaning forward over the steering wheel to peer at her. “What does that mean?!”

She gives him a tiny smile, shaking her head, and shuts the door. Taehyung keeps his eyes on her, hoping she’ll turn around and give him some answers, but she never looks back.

–

When Taehyung lets himself back into the house, there are no girls in sight, only his house-mates - minus Yoongi. They all turn to look at him as he comes through the door, and one by one they join a slow-clap.

“Oh, fuck you guys,” Taehyung grouses, slapping his keys into the little basket by the door.

“Breaking the hearts of not one but two beautiful women tonight!” Jimin sings, as if overcome with pride for his friend, one hand clutching his chest dramatically.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Taehyung snaps, eyes narrowing.

“Which part is confusing?” Jungkook asks, lips twitching.

“Well, obviously inviting over Y/N -.”

“I didn’t invite her, Jin did!” Taehyung interrupts Jimin hotly.

“-inviting over Y/N when you already had Leslie over was a super douchey move.”

Taehyung groans, over it. “I know,” he whines. “I didn’t think about it like that. It’s just Leslie.”

“And there you have the breaking of Heart Number Two,” Jimin quips.

Taehyung looks at him blankly. Jimin’s mouth goes slack.

“You don’t know? Oh, my God, look at his face, he doesn’t know.”

Yoongi chooses this moment to breeze through the basement door, heading for the kitchen. “Leslie’s in love with you, you absolute moron.”

“No she’s not,” Taehyung scoffs instinctively, then looks at all the faces in the room, all looking at him like oh, isn’t he cute.

“You had to know,” Jungkook says skeptically. “How could you not know?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer; he’s shocked into silence, into stillness, into fight or flight. He needs time to process this, to deal with it. He needs to enact a game plan to determine if it’s true, he needs to reexamine every interaction they’d had over the last ten years and figure out if he’s been an asshole or just stupid.

“So which heart are we mending?” Jimin asks, a little kinder now as he watches the clash of emotions on his friend’s face.

Taehyung’s already mentally gone from the conversation, already mentally up in his room pacing and thinking, already texting Leslie tell me the truth, have I fucked up our friendship at any point, have you been letting me just think it’s okay?

But still, some part of his brain is listening. Some part of his brain knows the answer - the only answer.

“Y/N,” he says simply, and turns for the stairs.

did I....... did I create a secret Plot C for wwh..... oh no....

You can find my full Masterlist here!

#fic: what was hidden #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung drabble

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autisticredhood · 2 years

Note

seek or blank for the wip ask !!!

the only seek I have is a bullet point for ghost jason at the manor playing hide & seek with ghost martha & thomas :3

i have 2 blank(ly)'s though!

a jaykyle for u!!!! its about miscommunication over why jason never spends the night for personal reasons but kyle thinks its bc jay doesnt care about him. hes suffering from a concussion in this scene ^_^

“Jesus Christ, will you lie the fuck down?” Kyle demands. “You need rest. You won’t catch feelings just because you spend the night in my bed.”

Jason stares back blankly. Kyle is always saying things that never make any fucking sense. How can he catch feelings when he already has feelings? And what does spending the night have to do with that? Jason looks at Kyle’s scowling face and doesn’t know how to put it into words that waking up and thinking he’s in the past and then realizing he’s in the present and injured and alone sounds like hell.

“You won’t be alone, you idiot. I’ll be here.”

Jason doesn’t know how to say that’s not what he means by alone–he means being fatherless. But that terrified little creature inside Jason’s ribs pauses at Kyle’s words and settles.

& supernatural-thing jason

“Jason?” Leslie whispers.

Jason stares back blankly. Leslie’s eyes glisten and then her gaze shifts to the patient and she snaps out of her reverie. Later, after blood and bandages, the patient says, “They look like my mom.”

“Who?” Leslie asks.

“Them,” she weakly gestures at Jason. “I miss my mom. Do you miss Jason?”

Leslie sits. “Yes,” she says.

#my writing #i wrote the jaykyle when i was high i got like really possessed to write a story of jason being v autistic & not picking up on things kyle #says & kyle doesnt realize jasons autistic. & the misscommunication is funny as hell

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pkmngame-fankids · 1 year

Text

Pokémon fankid week day 2: Family

Owen is almost six when he realizes his family is... different.

He’s always known that it was odd that his mommy and daddy always say stuff like “Owen, be more like Ezra” or “Owen, can’t you be like Briar? He never causes trouble” (his Granny Leslie tells him every time Mommy sees her), but he’s never really thought about it. It’s just normal! Everyone has parents that ask them to be different, be better, it’s how the world works.

Then his teacher asks everyone to draw their families and tell the class about them. That names would be drawn out of a hat, and that’s the order they’d go in. So Owen draws his family (and if he accidentally forgets about himself until he’s colouring in the sky, then nobody has to know except him and the crayon box). He makes sure he gets Mommy’s lipstick the right shade of pink because that’s important. He makes sure that everyone is smiling because his family has nice smiles, even though they don’t smile as often as they should. He makes sure everything is just right, like how Ezra would make it.

He’s the first name drawn, and so he goes up and shows his picture to the class and talks about his family. He talks about how it’s always “Owen you’re better than this” and “Ezra never causes scenes” and how he and his brothers are dropped off at one of their grandparents so often that Grandpa Felix says that it’s like raising kids all over again. He gets questions about what his Mommy and Daddy do and ignores the worried look his teacher gives him after he talks and talks and talks about his family.

(It’s the eighth person after him when he realizes that no one else has a family even slightly similar to his. Which is weird because everyone has the same kind of family where the grandparents do most of the work and the parents are always busy doing something else, right?)

It’s only when he gets home after class, a rare day when his Daddy picks him up when he really gets to show his work to people that he knows will like it. After all, Ezra��s drawings always get praise!

When he shows his Daddy his work though, the drawing that he spent so long on and even longer talking about, he gets a blank stare.

“You spelt ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ wrong, Owen. You should talk to Ezra about that, spelling is very important and he’s very good at it.” His Daddy says, and then goes back to making supper.

And Owen frowns at that, because he already did ask Ezra for help in spelling and he said that the way he spelt ‘mommy’ and ‘daddy’ is right. Ezra would never lie to him, and Ezra is never wrong, so obviously the only correct answer is that his Daddy is wrong, but that seems wrong too.

Instead of asking Ezra for help though, Owen leaves his work of art on the counter next to his Daddy so that his Mommy can see it when she gets home. He knows that she will be happy that he made sure he got the right shade of lipstick for her!

He forgets to ask her if she saw his art after supper when she gets home.

(It’s the next day when he finds his art in the garbage with leftovers from supper on top of it when he remembers. And he cries because that is his hard work that is now forever ruined, unlike Ezra’s or Briar’s. He doesn’t understand why it’s his work in the garbage underneath food that is partially eaten. He doesn’t understand why his family is not like the ones he heard about the day before from his classmates.)

He’s almost six when he realizes that his family is different and does not like him.

#Admin's Art #admin's writing #pkmn fankids #fankidweek #Almiashipping #owen #kellyn

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lightofthemoonglow · 2 years

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chapter one - where i am now

summary: 20 years ago, the citizens of Glen Echo took justice into their own hands. Now, Leslie Vernon is back. But of course, there are complications, distractions. And one of them takes the form of Remi, a town native with a true crime podcast and a desire to know what happened all those years ago.

Chapter One of Devil's Backbone

series masterlist

co-written with @deviantdrkate

twenty years ago

It’s dark out, dinner had been over for a while. The little girl crouched on the stairs, watching and listening to her parents still feels full of mac and cheese, broccoli and milk. Her stomach is churning as she listens to the not very hushed voices of her parents argue over something that seems to have come out of nowhere. Something bad happened, that’s all she knows. But it isn’t the usual kind of bad. It’s something more, something that deep down, she knows should scare her.

"He's just a little boy-" Cora Lockton cries out, moving to grab her husband’s arm as he goes to grab his coat.

"And he's guilty as sin." Grant Lockton snaps back, yanking his arm away from her grasp, glowering down at her for a moment. “You didn’t see what he did to them!”

“But does that mean he deserves-”

“WINCHESTER! Ya got your shoes and coat on, boy?” Grant is clearly done with the conversation while his wife is not, as evident by the look on her face and how she tries to grab his arm as he moves towards the front door.

The boy that emerges from the other room is small for his age, nearly swallowed by a coat that’s too big. His eyes are wide, apprehensive, the brim of his knit hat nearly covering his eyes. It’s identical to the one his father is wearing, just like his coat and boots. At only nine, Winchester has expectations more suited for a man twice his age, maybe thrice. He’s the future head of the family, his father’s pride and joy, but only if he becomes the man that they expect him to be.

The girl on the stairs, Remington, is nearly seven and already knows, on some level, that she’s second in more ways than one. Not even the spare to her brother’s heir. Which is fine, it allows her to watch from the shadows.

“Today, you become a man.” Grant claps his son on the back hard enough to make the boy wobble and then they’re gone, the door slamming hard enough to shake the knick-knacks on the shelf nearby. Cora’s face contorts for a moment and she covers it with both hands, standing with her back against the wall. Her knees tremble, as if her body is going to sink to the floor at any moment.

It’s only the sight of Remi standing right in front of her that makes her straighten up and wipe her eyes. “What are you doing up so late, pumpkin?”

“I heard yelling.”

“What did you hear?” Cora doesn’t even need to think about moving to pull a lock of hair out of Remi’s mouth, though unlike every other time this has and will happen, she doesn’t internally sigh and wish that her daughter had a different tic than trying to eat her hair. Though it could be worse. It could be the hair of others.

There’s a pause, Remi quickly mulling over her options. “I don't know.” Which is the truth, in a way. She’s not sure what they’re talking about or why, but it has to be important. Maybe even bad. She’s not sure what Leslie Vernon even did to make everyone so upset but it must have been something really bad. It’s enough to mobilize her father and the neighbors. It had been the chaos outside that had drawn the girl out of her room in the first place. Doors slamming, people shouting, even some brief crying. And it was all about Leslie Vernon, a boy no one really knew because he was home all the time.

“Okay, okay. Did you do your homework?”

“Yeah.” A small lie, but she can do the reading on the school bus.

“Good girl.” There’s a brief pause, Cora’s eyes darting from Remi to the door, her mind racing. “Just for tonight, you can play the Atari.” The gaming system was only allowed to be used on weekends or holidays, and it’s a Tuesday night. An older child would have realized that it was a distraction tactic, only a little better than yelling ‘look over there!’.

But at six, the full implications don’t hit Remi, who happily skips over to the family room. They won’t hit her for a long time.

The front door opens loudly, causing Remi to drop the controller. It’s a few hours past her usual bedtime, but without the usual rules in place, there hasn’t been anything to stop her from playing Mario Bros or Pac-Man, which she’s been doing for hours. Her mother fell asleep a while ago, drifting off on the couch, curled up under an afghan.

“Here ya go, Remington! I know you like the apple cinnamon ones!” Grant hands her the bag, instead of tossing it in her general direction.

Behind him, Chester is holding a bag of his own and normally he would be happier. But there’s something in his eyes, a look that says whatever he’s feeling won’t be eased by any sort of dessert.

Cora stirs from her slumber to the sight of her children sitting on the floor, eating sugar far too late and her husband grinning wildly, his eyes lit up with the sort of excitement that she only sees during hunting season or when it’s time for them to be man and wife behind closed doors.

“How did it go?” she asks, dread creeping into her voice. Because deep down she knows.

The children don’t see what their father shows their mother, but they see the look on her face. Cold anger and then what they’ll come to realize is faux-calm and sweetness. “Go put that on the vanity. I’ll look at it later.”

For once, Grant listens.

And after that night, Leslie Vernon becomes a dirty word in Glen Echo. Some parents do their best to try and make their children forget. But he’ll never be allowed to rest, his story becoming a campfire tale to titillate, instead of the tragedy it is.

—

Present Day

The first glimpse of her is through the gaps in the bookshelves. It’s not much, barely enough for him to confirm that she’s who he came here to find. This trip into town isn’t going to be too much of a waste after all.

Ever since he had come to Glen Echo and slowly begun to establish himself, Leslie has tried to avoid going into town too much. He needs to be established, to avoid suspicion from the local authorities. His debut needs to go off perfectly, or else there would be no further outings. Being new in town, with his name, had already earned him some vaguely suspicious looks from the locals. If he started anything too soon, then they would immediately suspect him.

In the grand scheme of things, twenty years isn’t that long ago. Sure, change has probably come to Glen Echo, but this is still the town where they believed that an abused child lashing out was possessed by unfathomable evil and the only solution was to kill him. The participants in that act are likely still relatively young. At least they’re young enough to put up a fair fight, maybe the chase would be worth the effort.

Though going after those responsible for the events of twenty years ago isn’t high on his agenda. While Leslie could do that, he needs to fly under the radar and he can’t do that if he’s asking about his murder of his ‘distant cousin’.

In fact, if this hadn’t fallen into his lap, he wouldn’t be here, looking for the one person in town who seems to care about Leslie Vernon almost as much as he does.

The night before, he had been at the bar, just taking in the locals when a man a few stools down had started running his mouth after consuming three beers, at least by Leslie’s count. The man, Grant, had been complaining about his daughter, who had returned after a long absence, from what Leslie had been able to gather. He would have written the man off as just another drunk if he hadn’t name dropped.

“Damn bitch won’t leave it alone.”

The man’s bitterness can be heard throughout the bar, and normally Leslie wouldn’t pay any attention to the man, but it’s been quiet all night and he’s been nursing this one beer for a while, so he’s bored. It’s either listen or leave. He almost goes with the latter, but then the man says the magic words.

“It’s been twenty years. Don’t understand why she gives a shit about Leslie Vernon.”

It had been easy to move closer to the man and listen to what he had to say. The man, who the bartender had called Grant, had quite the mouth. In less than an hour, Leslie knew the name of his troublesome daughter, the name of her podcast, she had returned to Glen Echo to help care for her ill mother, who had died recently and that Grant could not wait for her to leave again.

From there, Leslie had been able to track down the podcast in question. Solved But Sinister focused on true crime, cases that had been solved but still haunted the host. As he listened to the episode on Ed Gein, Leslie tracked down her myspace page. A journal entry said that she would be at the bookstore to take advantage of a sale and he had been able to pinpoint when she’d be there from other posts, even though they were vague. There weren’t many photos of Remi Lockton available online, but he only needed one to be able to find her. Though the small, low-quality photo didn’t do her justice.

The first thing Leslie notices is that she has nice hands, which come into view when she puts a book back on the shelf. Elegant fingers, the nails painted a pleasing shade of dark red, though there are small chips in a few places. There are a few rings, though none on her left ring finger. He watches as she plays with her hair, which makes him realize that her hair is actually in what looks like hundreds of tiny braids.. The plain silver stud in her nose is new, it was not in any of the pictures he was able to find. She’s wearing a long red, flowing skirt that looks straight out of the 60s or 70s and a black tank top. There’s a tattoo on her right forearm. An apple with a ribbon around it, the text on the ribbon reading ‘hell is’, with ‘other people’ under the apple.

It’s the perfect opening. So he makes his way to where she is, sidling up next to her, pretending to be interested in Steinbeck for a few moments before he speaks.

“I love fruity tattoos.”

All he gets in response is a blank stare, then her brows furrowing as her dark eyes went to her arm and then back to meeting his. “Oh…because of my tattoo. I get it. Kinda funny.”

It’s not the reaction he expected. Leslie is at a loss, unable to come up with a response to that. How can you respond to nothing?

“Do you approach strange women in bookstores often or is this your first time?” Remi asks, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards. Leslie feels oddly relieved over this being salvageable. Her voice is less modulated than it is when she does her podcast, but it’s still got the same effect. Steady, but honeyed words pass her lips. Her pleasant, almost sweet voice confirms why her show is popular despite the otherwise low production value

"You got me. I don’t do this often.” Leslie rubs the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “And now I’m aware of how that was kinda creepy.”

“No, you pulled it off. Somehow.” She smiles fully now and he finds the sight pleasing. “I’m Remi.”

Leslie shakes her hand for a moment too long, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “Leslie.” He’s not going to tell her his last name just yet, not when his first name made her smile waver and caused her to gulp just a bit. “It’s a family name. Firstborns get stuck with it a lot.” That seems to put her at ease. He can see the tension leave her body language.

“Nice to meet you. I take it you’re new in town.”

“You could say that. Used to come here when I had family in town but it’s just me now.” Not exactly the truth, but as far as he knows, this isn’t the situation that calls for the truth. It’s not like he’s going to be spending the rest of his life with this woman. Before she can say anything else, he quickly switches topics. “So, what’s Remi short for?”

“Guess.” She’s not asking him, she’s telling him, her voice still playful, but with a hint of firmness that makes it obvious, at least to him, that he must guess. And to his surprise, he kind of likes it.

“Remedy.” It’s the first thing that pops into his mind and it makes her giggle, her hand going to cover her mouth for a moment, likely attempting to muffle the snorts that come with her laugh. It doesn’t work, not entirely. He doesn’t care, not that he has any right to.

But for the first time in a long time, Leslie likes the sound of someone’s laugh.

“I fucking wish.” Remi shakes her head, dropping her hand. But before she does, he notes a ring on her right ring finger. The silver of the claddagh ring stands out on her umber skin and he nearly smiles when he realizes it’s turned outwards. While he’s far from Irish, at least he thinks so, he knows enough to know that it means she’s single. Leslie tells himself that the warmth spreading through him is because there’s one less complication.

“Are you gonna tell me?” Leslie asks, holding eye contact. Her eyes aren’t that dark, and yet they make him think of some vague abyss.

“That’s something you have to earn, Leslie.” Remi smirks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He likes the sound of his name when she says it and for the first time, he’s happy that he chose a persona that shares his real name.

“How can I earn it?”

Remi pauses, biting her lower lip. “Do you know any magic tricks?” It’s not what he expected, but he can’t deny that’s what he wanted to hear.

“I’ve been known….” Leslie says, prepping the trick, maintaining eye contact to keep her focus off his hands. “To dabble in the dark arts.”

“How dark are we talking?”

“You have no idea,” Leslie grins as he pulls the coin seemingly from behind her ear. It’s not currency, just a souvenir coin from the Grand Canyon he had picked up on his way to Maryland. “Voila.” He holds out the coin for her to examine, which she does.

As she takes it, he runs a finger along one of hers, not even really meaning to do it. It just happens and he should know better than to slip up. Stuff like that is just going to get in the way of his plans. Even if he’s having a bit of a mental block, that doesn’t mean he can go gallivanting around town.

But that bit of contact sends a frisson of sensation down his spine and by the look in her eyes, Remi has to be feeling something too. It’s the most Leslie has felt in a long time, at least when it comes to another person. This should make him want to leave, not glance down at the books in her basket in hopes of finding a reason to continue the conversation,

Hannibal, Three Weeks In October, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon and Outlander. The latter is the odd man out, maybe an attempt to diversify her reading material. So he chooses to ignore it and focus on the rest.

“One of the greatest love stories of our time.”

“You’ve read Outlander?” Remi furrows her brow, clearly skeptical. She stares him down, her eyes practically burning into his soul.

“Oh, I’m talking about Hannibal. It’s a damn shame that they cut it out of the movie.”

“Spoilers.” But she’s smiling, her eyes are practically twinkling. “You owe me for that. Even though I saw it coming a mile away.” Remi tucks a braid behind her ear, biting her plush lower lip for a moment. “Maybe I should spoil Stab 5. You look like a Stab guy.”

“I am. How did you know I haven’t seen it yet?” The theatrical release of the movie had been limited and short, due to a studio issue, which was likely also the reason it had taken longer than usual to be released on home video. So it’s a logical assumption. But a superfan would have found a way to see it.

“Call it a lucky guess. You did just move here, after all. Moving is…hectic. Believe me, I know.” Remi checks her watch and sighs. “Shit, they’re gonna close soon.” It’s a half hour until closing, which some might not consider ‘soon’, but it’s oddly adjacent enough to be considerate. It says more than one would think. “So…I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. Hopefully soon.” Leslie smiles and walks away, still feeling that oddly warm sensation in his chest.

‘Soon’ is five minutes later, outside of the bookstore. Leslie is pretending to consider what part of the Glen Echo nightlife to experience next when Remi comes outside.

“Exciting town, huh?” she says dryly, lingering next to him.

“I’ve been in worse places.” It’s not exactly a lie. Glen Echo isn’t very stimulating when the residents aren’t being whipped into a frenzied mob, but it’s better than the hospital. At least he has his freedom here. “It seemed a lot more exciting when I was a kid. I have no idea where to go to kill time.”

Instead of prying, Remi manages to surprise him yet again. “Want to take a ride with me?” No further information is offered, and Leslie can’t figure out what her game is. She has an excellent poker face.

As they walk to her car, Leslie tells himself that this is the research. Though for what eludes him.

The large station wagon is a dull brown, the back decorated with stickers that he doesn’t get a chance to study before she opens the passenger side door for him. The car is mostly neat, save for a fast-food bag on the floor in the back, a jacket and some boxes in the backseat and an empty coffee cup in the cupholder. There’s a backpack on the floor of the passenger seat area, which she moves to the backseat before he gets in.

“It’s a bit out of the way, but worth it,” Remi says as they drive down the town’s main street, towards the more rural parts of the already rural town.

“Are you taking me out there to kill me?” he asks mirthfully. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye with a wry smile.

“Let’s see where the night takes us.”

A little voice in the back of his mind tells him how fucked he is. Leslie chooses to ignore it.

By now, Remi can find the Vernon house from any point in Glen Echo. It’s her sick little talent that has only been useful once; tonight.

Coming back for more than a few days had never been part of the plan. But then her mother had gotten sick. The cancer had summoned Remi back to the town that Remi hated so much that it burned. If it weren’t for her sister, Remi would have moved back to Baltimore a long time ago. But Harper was only nine, a little kid. Leaving her felt wrong, even though their father treated Harper better than he had treated Remi at that age. But without their mom, that could change. Though tonight, Harper was at a sleepover. The next fifteen hours were all Remi’s.

And she was choosing to spend them with a total stranger.

Of course, her mind had gone to the obvious place when he’d told her his name. Remi, her brother and their peers had claimed to not remember that night, contributing to it becoming a distant event in everyone’s minds. People talked about it as if it had happened in the 1880s, not the 1980s. That had never sat right with Remi, even when she’d been a kid.

No one was going to pay for that night, not when it had been a team effort. But the truth still needed to be put out there. Or at least something close to it.

“How much do you know about the town’s history?” Remi asked, derailing the small talk. They were getting close, after all. Now was as good a time as any.

“Not a whole lot. But I’m down for a history lesson.” Leslie actually sounds interested, as opposed to feigning interest in hopes of getting to cop a feel later.

“We only have one interesting story. But it’s a doozy.” They’re on the path leading to the house. It’s too overgrown and unused to be called a driveway at this point. “And it happened right here.”

The house comes into view right then. It’s rundown, no one has ever even tried to make it look good. It certainly looks the part of a house from an urban legend. “No one has lived here for twenty years. Not since…what happened.”

It’s the first time that Remi has been to the Vernon house since her return to Glen Echo. Just as it had the first time she had come here, it fills her with a sense of foreboding. And she knows why, it’s because she knows what happened here. The house isn’t haunted or filled with bad energy. She turns to Leslie, does her best to smile. For a moment, she considers holding out her hands for him to take, but she chooses to just gesture for him to follow her instead.

The door groans loudly when she pushes it open. There is a thick layer of dust over everything, it’s clearly been a while since anyone has been here. Not even local teens have been using it to party, it seems. It’s dark, but Remi has a battery operated lantern in her backpack, a purchase from earlier in the evening. There was also a bottle of wine and some batteries, both for the light and her vibrator. Until she had met Leslie, her plans had been to spend the night in her trailer, getting wine drunk and masturbating

“This is the old Vernon place. It used to be nice. The apple orchard was beautiful back when I was a kid. They act like it happened a long time ago, but it didn’t. It all went down only twenty years ago.”

Remi does a bit of a spin when she turns to face Leslie, who is staring at her with an intensity that makes her stomach clench. The hem of her skirt flares out with the movement, settling back down as she resumes her tale. “Molly Vernon was….attacked by a drifter and had a son as a result. It’s not my place to theorize what her mental state was. But I can recount the facts. The whole town knew what was going on. Even some of the kids. But no one did anything to help poor Leslie Vernon. Maybe it was some sins of the father bullshit. Or maybe they didn’t want to invite scrutiny into their own homes. It’s a small town, after all. Too small sometimes.”

When she had returned, practically the whole town had heard before she had finished moving her things into the trailer at the edge of her family’s property. Though it was not always bad. People had supported the Lockton family during her mother’s illness and her funeral had been packed. They were still bringing food and offering help as of a week ago. It was nice, in its own way. Though most of the people who were doing that weren’t involved in what had happened twenty years ago.

“Eventually, Leslie snapped. Or so they say. Honestly, I don’t blame him, if he did it. The story is that he killed his step-father, stabbed him to death and threw him in a shallow grave. And then he hung his mother from a tree. Some local kids found her hanging from there. Some say she was still swinging, but it had been days. So probably not.

“It didn’t take long for them to figure out who did it.” Remi pauses, staring at nothing as the memories came rushing back. “The cops took too long figuring out what to do. So some of the men…fathers, husbands, a bunch of ordinary guys, decided to take care of it themselves. They got together in the middle of the night and grabbed him out of this very house. They dragged him to the falls and threw him over.”

There’s a hitch in her voice by the end. Even now, after spending several years studying monsters in human clothing, Remi still can’t grasp why they did it. It just feels so wrong. Everyone had known what had happened in this house for that poor boy’s entire life. And they hadn’t cared. Not until it was too late and even then, they had been focused on the wrong thing.

“Hey, hey…” Leslie approaches, closing the gap between them, a hand coming up to touch her face. Remi needs to stop herself from flinching. It’s been a long time since she’s had anyone touch her like that. “Don't think about it right now.” He ducks his head down and brushes his lips against the neck, so gently that it makes her shudder, hands going to grip his arms.

“Okay…”

It’s easy not to think when Leslie’s mouth feels so divine. Remi finds herself guiding him towards the old, worn sofa, wanting more of the kisses that are coming closer and closer to her mouth every time he makes contact. This isn’t like her, not at all. She’s always kept everyone at a distance. Always been the girl on the sidelines, the designated driver, the one who didn’t participate because not doing so felt safer. Easier.

But this is the easiest thing of all.

They’re kissing on the sofa, his hands respectfully planted on her hips while her hands are on his shoulders. It’s almost like she’s been possessed. People have always been a bit of a mystery. As hard as she had tried, and Remi had spent a good deal of her life trying, she couldn’t fully understand most of them. But there was something about Leslie that drew her in, made her want more.

"I didn't think a campfire story would get this sort of reaction." She laughs a little, leaning in for another kiss

"I've heard that story before, I like the way you tell it." Leslie kisses her again and again, stroking her head for a moment, fiddling with the ends of some of her braids.

“Oh?” Remi giggles, actually giggles, for the second time that night and somewhere in the back of her mind, she notes that he’s made her giggle twice in one night and no one usually can. Maybe this guy is special.

“Yeah. I, uh…, actually used to come here all the time as a kid.” Leslie pulls back, rubbing the back of his neck.

Realization dawns, despite how his hands have started going up her torso, along her ribs. She pulls back, her lips feeling swollen, her lip balm long gone. “Your last name is Vernon, isn’t it?”

Leslie’s hands finally lift and for the briefest of moments, Remi feels bereft. “Yeah,” he mumbles, looking away. “I, um, decided to come back. Kind of. I don’t live here.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.” If someone was living here, they would be someone that clearly needed help. The house was still as worn down, bordering on dirty, as it had been for a very long time. “So you just let me tell you all of that. I must have sounded like such a fucking asshole, Jesus-.”

“No, you didn’t.” Leslie grabs her hand, pulling her closer to him. “You made it sound better than anyone else. It felt real. Instead of just a story. I had to piece together what happened, because no one told me the whole thing. So…thank you.”

It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear. The one thing that would make her shrivel up and die, or at least want to, is to hear that she’s become the sort of person she hates. Lurid, exploitative content had been why she started the show. The facts were what mattered, not flair. And for the most part, she was able to be objective.

The Vernon case was one of the ones that just got to her.

“Thanks. It really means a lot…” It feels so banal but it’s all she can say. It’s easier when she just has to type a response. Something about hearing it in person feels strange. It makes her tongue feel thick, heavy. Actual words become blocked in her throat and only generic phrases can get out. And somehow, Leslie makes it worse.

People shouldn’t make her feel that way.

But Leslie is murmuring that she did such a good job and it’s making her feel weak. Her knees almost feel as if they’re twitching as her body almost goes entirely limp, sagging against his. His hand goes up her torso, fingers skimming along the cotton of her shirt before his palm finally, finally, reaches the swell of her breast. His hand is so warm that she can feel it through the layer of fabric.

There’s something about the feeling of her hardened nipple against his thumb, even with her shirt in the way, that sends Leslie to a whole other plane of existence. A place where his plans didn’t exist, a place where it was only the two of them and nothing else mattered. Not even them being on a couch that hadn’t been used in decades, worn and musty.

That need to feel more overtakes him and his hand moves away, her mouth parting, as if to protest, before closing as his hand slides under her shirt. Leslie flinches as his fingers brush over bare skin, even before he cups her bare breast, finding an odd delight in her not wearing a bra.

“So warm,” he whispers, noting that even that relatively neutral statement makes her twitch against him. It makes him kiss her harder as his other hand disappears inside of her shirt, unable to stop touching her. She kisses back, her tongue shoving into his mouth. It’s hungry, primal, even before he sinks his teeth into her plush lower lip. The noise she makes isn’t one of displeasure, quite the opposite. Remi is practically whimpering into his mouth, as if asking for more.

And who is he to deny her?

“Good girl.” It just slips out of his mouth, and he twitches, fucking twitches, in his pants even before he begins to pull up the hem of her skirt. It seems endless, like pulling scarves out of a hat, but he finally has it bunched up around her thighs and he’s slotted between her legs. “Can I?” Leslie asks, not sure what he’s asking for.

“I’m a…I’m a…” Her eyes dart about and she licks her kiss swollen lips. “I’ve never done…it before.”

Survivor Girl material rings out in his mind, an intrusive thought that makes him nearly flinch. It’s not exactly familiar territory for him either, not that it matters. This isn’t the place for that, even setting aside that this isn’t even a date, he just met her.

“We don’t have to do that.” Leslie shifts his body around, trying not to grind directly against her. “There’s other stuff we can do. If you want.”

“I want to.” She’s looking at him with blown pupils, her lips parted even after she’s done speaking. Leslie can feel how much it aches between his legs but he’s not focused on that. His mind is focused on what’s under that skirt, how warm and wet she is, even when his fingers first brush against her bare flesh. She shudders, clenches her thighs.

“You’re so wet.” Leslie is in awe, fascinated by how her body responds to his touch. A finger slowly slides inside and she gasps, but doesn’t try and pull away.

There’s something different about having someone else’s finger inside of her. Remi closes her eyes tightly, unable to process what’s happening, despite knowing what’s happening. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s verging on too much, even before his tongue grazes over her clit. She needs to clap a hand over her mouth as his mouth just keeps going, a second finger sliding in as his tongue seems to find places that even she has no idea about.

It's too fast, but she can’t help but enjoy it, she needs more and more. Remi has barely let anyone cop a feel before and now there’s a man between her legs, feasting on her like he’s never had a meal before in his life.

“You taste so fucking good.” He comes up for breath, looking at her in a way that makes her stomach twist and her hands go to his hair, pushing him back because she’s so close and when it happens, she’s screaming, lost in the sensations that are coursing through her.

When she finally starts coming down, Leslie is on her, kissing her and she doesn’t care that she can taste herself on his lips. He’s hard against her thigh and he ruts against her for a few moments. And then he’s gasping too, bucking against her as he comes in his pants.

They just stare at each other for a few moments, the silence lasting forever before she speaks.

“I’m not looking for anything,” Remi whispers, unable to stop herself. “If that’s like…what you thought. I’m sorry. But there’s a lot going on in my life and I don’t know if I can really commit to anything.”

“Hey, I’m not looking for anything either. Just wanted to have a good time.” Leslie smiles and for a moment, she considers changing her mind.

But instead, she gets up and they walk out of the house, back to her car, in near silence. It’s not uncomfortable and when she turns on the radio, he sings along in a way that makes her smile.

“See you around,” Remi says after she drops him back off at his car.

“Maybe you will,” Leslie replies. As he walks away, a little voice in the back of his mind says that the maybe is a damn lie, he’s going to make sure he sees her very soon.

#leslie vernon x oc #my writing #leslie vernon fanfic #horror fanfic

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ao3feed-tedlasso · 1 year

Text

Mumble a Reply (Followed by a Lie)

by songbirdscoo

Four times Will Kitman keeps his mouth shut (and one time he doesn't).

Words: 4874, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Ted Lasso (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Will Kitman, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard (Ted Lasso), Trent Crimm, Nathan Shelley, Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent, Keeley Jones, Rebecca Welton, Colin Hughes, Leslie Higgins

Relationships: Will Kitman & Ted Lasso, Will Kitman & Jamie Tartt, Will Kitman & Trent Crimm, Will Kitman & Nathan Shelley, Keeley Jones & Rebecca Welton

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, AFC Richmond Players are Himbos (Ted Lasso), i cannot believe that is a common tag, i love it, Men Crying, Will Kitman Needs a Hug, Jamie Tartt Needs a Hug, oooh bet you weren't expecting that one, Hurt Jamie Tartt, just a little though, Hurt Will Kitman, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, nathan shelley is NOT a villain, ok well kind of, it's complicated - Freeform, My First Work in This Fandom, Swearing, obviously it's roy kent what did you expect, 5+1 Things, except it's 4 because i'm a rebel

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/46117699

#Ted Lasso #Ted Lasso Fic #ao3feed

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gldenhrs · 1 year

Photo

(—) ★ spotted !! OLIVIA JAMES on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid ! many say that the 34 year old looks like CANDICE KING , but i don’t really see it. while the ACTRESS is known for being CARING my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be BOSSY i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song LOVER BY TAYLOR SWIFT .

* ◞ ╰ general .

full name : olivia marie james ( nee richardson ) . nicknames : liv , livvie birthdate / zodiac sign : somewhere in march during aries season . birthplace : houston , tx . sexual orientation : heterosexual . family : emily richardson ( mother ) & zach richardson ( father ) siblings : none relationship status : married children : emma james ( daughter , 5 years old ) + another daughter on the way pets : golden retriever named sammy occupation : actress . love language : physical touch , deeds , words . + traits : loyal , caring , organized , valiant & courageous . - traits : bossy , stubborn , workaholic & controlling . aesthetic : matte lipstick , family beach days , blowdried bouncy hair , lipstick stained coffee mugs , matte nail polish , freshly cleaned sheets , gentle touch , game nights , day drinking , sneakers instead of heels , long talks on the phone , mom vibes , oscars stocked shelves . muse inspo : monica geller ( friends ) , haley james scott ( one tree hill ) , caroline forbes ( vampire diares ) , lorelai gilmore ( gilmore girls ) , prue halliwell ( charmed ) , amy santiago ( brooklyn nine-nine ) , leslie knope ( parks & recreation ) , claire dunphy ( modern family ) , dorothy zbornak ( golden girls )

* ◞ ╰ quick history .

ok so , liv grew up in houston with a loving , caring af family which set her values high from the start . the fam was never rich but they also never truly lacked anything ??

it was clear from a rather early age that liv possessed insane talent when it came for acting , so after a couple of lessons , school plays & whatnot , her parents decided to relocate to california so she could pursue acting full time ( which was a big thing considering she was just 5 , but they believed in her ! )

so obvi , since she was a cute lil blonde girl with immense talent , it didn’t take long for her to book her first big shot movie , & soon enough liv was a household name !!

growing up , she was careful what she picked & even more careful of the company she kept ( aka fame never got in her head that much ) so with that more blockbuster movies followed , so did appearances on tv , commercials , etc ... u name it ! she was basically hollywood’s sweetheart ( think hilary duff grows up to be kate winslet or kate blanchett ) & i have the list of movies she’s made HERE to make it easier for u :))

fast forward a couple of more years & now she’s a big a-list actress , is happily married ( which is a shock itself for hollywood standards ) to the love of her life for about 7 years now ( think of blake lively and ryan reynolds on this one !! ) , has a beautiful daughter named emma who just turned 5 , owns a golden retriever called sammy ( american cliche what can i say ) && is about seven months pregnant with ANOTHER baby girl !!

* ◞ ╰ personality & cute facts .

not gonna lie she’s totally based off monica geller from friends & i regret nothing .

also a huge coffee addict ( surprise , surprise )

wears glasses for reading & cleans when frustrated !!

the mom friend of every group so .... will protect anyone who needs it .

doesn’t tolerate nonsense & is quick to give u a smartypants comment to a stupid question or overall give u lectures on the bad decisions u make .

does not too well when she’s on the receiving end of criticism & hates admitting she’s in the wrong .

famous lines include “ you did not just say that “ & “ i told you so “

can do her makeup even drunk ;))

still cries like a baby when mufasa dies & susan forgets about narnia .

likes having a glass of wine every night before bed to calm her nerves lolol .

goes lowkey crazy during superbowl season bc .... she’s a big football fan .

a total momma bear & will hurt u if u hurt her family .

lowkey hates going to all the award shows bc the press always makes a big deal out of it meanwhile all she wants to do is stay home .

her husband & her love cracking jokes / tease each other thru social media so they often post ridiculous pics / twitter posts & the fans eat it up !!

* ◞ ╰ connections .

childhood best friend aka the rachel to her monica !! <3

a group of FRIENDS ( see what i did there fdjnrjtdg ) give me ross , phoebe , joey & chandler pls !!

friends that often barbecue together on the weekends ??

hollywood couple friends !!!

maybe her first love ?? like a guy she dated when she was 14 , and it was totally cute & innocent

also exes she dated before meeting her husband ( think taylor swift before she met joe alwyn ) <3

also co-actors on her films would be grand too !!

ok so since i know our group is full of QUESTIONABLE people , maybe someone she watches over , protects , lectures , etc ?? just let her be a mom friend pls !

frenemies , coworkers , protective friendship , sibling like friendship , unfaithful friends , unlikely friends , friends who used to be enemies , ex best friends , friends who balance each other out , competition , rivarly , friends by association , family friends , her husband’s friends :))

#hillzhqsintro #here we go :)))

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buffysummers · 2 years

Note

Hi! I love your blog and gifs so much! I watched the movie Cha Cha real smooth cuz you recommended it but I feel like it was just okay or I didn't really get it. Can you explain why you liked it? I thought it was fine and not bad but the guy looked way older in my opinion..and I didn't know what the message of the movie was supposed to be.

Hi, thanks so much!

It’s funny because I actually thought the same thing about Cooper Raiff, but he was around that age when he filmed the movie. He’s only 25 now, but when filming he was probably anywhere between 23/24, most likely 23, and his character was meant to be 22/23. I think he’s super cute but he just looks older, which is unfortunate for him because obviously he wants to make movies about his own life experiences but he looks more like he’s in his early-to-mid 30s.

Moving on, the movie itself isn’t exactly very action-packed. If you’re looking for a super tense drama, then this isn’t the film for you. What I loved about it was how genuine it felt. It’s a beautiful exploration of what it means to be human. It’s a character study, and those films tend to be less eventful. The film just feels so honest and raw and real. It’s about human connection and how powerful that can be.

Andrew (Cooper Raiff) is in a very transitional and confusing phase of his life. He has no idea who he is or what he’s meant to be, and I found that to be extremely relatable and also such a universal feeling that I’m sure most people, especially those also in their 20s, can really connect with. I also found its exploration of depression to be rather profound. You see this with Andrew himself as well as Domino (Dakota Johnson) and his mom, Lisa (Leslie Mann.)

The film chronicles four different stages of life. You have early adolescence with his brother, David, and of course there’s Andrew, fresh out of college. Then you have Domino who is in her early 30s with a teenage daughter, who is struggling to make good choices for herself due to her depression. And then you have Andrew’s mom, who has two kids and is remarried but has episodes due to her manic depression. There’s two different perspectives on parenting, both equally moving, and then there’s Andrew who attempts to guide his brother while harboring the secret of life: no one really knows what they’re doing. I found Andrew’s conflict of wanting to teach his brother while also simultaneously wanting to shield him from life’s harsh realties very compelling.

I found the film to be such a lovely glimpse into the complexity of life. It wasn’t trying to be flashy or edgy. It wasn’t trying to make some profound statement on life. It simply just... was. And that’s what makes it profound. And I think that’s the message of the film. We are all just here trying to make it. Most of us struggle, most of us lie and hide from ourselves. That’s how life is but that doesn’t make it any less beautiful or any less meaningful. Sometimes our experiences in life can feel so isolating and singular, but it turns out, there is something so universal about feeling lost and needing human connection.

I don’t know if this helped you at all, but I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy the film!

#anonymous #answered #cha cha real smooth #cooper raiff

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the-blonde-adventurer · 2 years

Text

Never Ending Truths (21)

Indiana Jones x Harley

Words: 2983

Summary: Indy comes back from his adventure causing him and Harley to discover something mindblowing.

Indy has been gone for three days, and he hasn't tried to reach out to me or use our connection. The only thing I could feel was his heart and feelings, and I had to draw my own conclusions. I know whatever he is doing is getting him stressed out and he’s constantly angry. I can feel all the fights he’s in and all the punches he received. He did something to his left hand that made me groan in pain feeling the constant ache. He’s told me before he use to slightly close our connection when he went on adventures so I wouldn’t get hurt. I guess he doesn’t care if I get hurt this time. I didn’t want to close the connection even though I kept getting beat by invisible hands, I feel I deserve this after how I treated Indy. I just want him to use our connection and reach out to know we are okay. I hated being here all alone, not seeing my soulmate and knowing how he didn't want to see me.

Madrina has noticed I was in a funk and asked me what happened, and I told her Indy, and I got into a fight. I didn't give her all the details, not wanting her to think badly of Indy. I mostly stuck to myself, wanting to be alone with my thoughts.

****four days later***

I drag myself to Archeology, not wanting to be here and see that woman teaching his class. I was shocked when I saw Indy sitting at his desk grading papers with a bandaged left hand. "When did you get back?" I ask him as I take my seat.

"Last night." He mumbles, not bothering to look at me. He got back last night and didn't come home; he's still pissed off at me. "I see." I sigh as I take my seat. "Must be test day?" I try to carry on a conversation with him. He didn't look up at me but kept grading the papers as he ignored me. I guess we aren't on talking terms still. "It is; I'm trying to grade, so I don't have to when I go home." He tells me flatly as his glasses hang on his nose.

"Okay, I'll shut up; I'm sorry." I take the hint and mumble before I start drawing. I already did my homework at lunch to distract myself from crying. I kept drawing to keep myself focused and not bother him while he worked. I learned my lesson on bothering him. What is the planning? Is he stressed? Is he going to come home tonight? Will he try to talk to me? I tried to feel his emotions, but I couldn't feel anything, not even his heart. I felt him all day, but as soon as I walked in here, I couldn't feel anything. I look up at him, shocked and heartbroken, knowing he cut me off. Is he that angry with me still he wants to cut our connection? "Why?" I ask him weakly.

"Why what?" He groans.

"You cut me off. Why? Do you hate me that much?" I ask him as I try not to cry.

"What are you going on about?" He grumbles.

"I can't..." I started, but students started coming into the room. "The door is closed," I tell him, trying to hide my pain. He looked at me, studying my expression, realizing it as well; he couldn't feel it either. I tried to hide my pain, but I knew he saw it on my face. I wouldn't say I like this; I hate being alone and not feeling his heartbeat or feelings. I'm alone, feeling nothing but pain and sorrow. "Harley, are you okay?" Collin asks me as he takes a seat.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lie to him. I look down at my desk, trying to reach out to Indy wanting our connection back. I looked up at Indy to see he was staring at me as he clenched his jaw and squinted at me. I guess he wants nothing to do with me. Why is he blocking me out?

He passed the tests to Leslie to pass down to everyone before taking his seat. I took my test, trying my best to focus. I kept glancing at him to make sure he was still there, and he was okay. It was difficult to judge his emotions when I couldn't feel them. I finish my test and turn it in, shooting him a glare for cutting me out like this. He knows how dangerous it is for us to have the connection closed, and he goes and closes it! I go back to my seat and start drawing again to calm myself down, not wanting to make a fool out of myself. I try everything in my power to stop the tears from flowing.

The bell rang, and everyone started packing up, even myself. "LaCarrubba, stay behind." He tells me using his deep, monotone voice. I exhale slowly, trying to keep myself from crying. Soon everyone exited the class, and I sat in my chair waiting for the students to stop passing the door so that I could shut it. I couldn't help as my tears ran down my cheek as I looked out the window, not wanting him to see me cry. I secretly wipe my tears as I take deep breaths. I looked over at the door to see the hall was empty. I get up, close the door and lock it before pulling the blinds down and walking over to him. "Why? What did I do?" I ask him hearing my voice crack as I hang my head before slowly looking back up at him. "Are you cutting me off for good?" Does he really want nothing to do with me?

He looked up at me, and I could see the pain in his eyes before he looked down at his hands. "You didn't do anything; it was me."

"Why? Do you want me to move out too?" I felt the warm tears finally breakthrough and drip down my cheeks.

"I didn't mean to. I never knew how you did it. I guess I accidentally closed the door. No, I don't want you to move out." He tells me softly. "Please open it back up; I don't like this." I fiddle with my hands, too nervous to look at him. "Please, I'll do anything, just open it back," I beg him as I sniffle my running nose.

"Harley, it's going to be okay. I didn't mean to shut it. I don't know how it happened." His voice was surprisingly soft. "Come here." He sighs. I look up at him and slowly walk over to him, afraid of what he was planning. He took my hand and placed a kiss on it before pulling me into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me as one hand was on the back of my head, holding me close to him. I put my hand on his chest, trying to feel his heart and get some kind of connection with him.

"Listen, I'm not mad at you." He mumbles. "We will talk more about that when we get home. For now, I want to fix our connection because I don't like this any more than you do." He explains as he rubs my back.

"What were you thinking?" I pull back and look into his eyes, trying to search his face.

"I was thinking I wanted to..." he trails off.

"Be alone?" I finish his sentence knowing all too well how it works for me. He nodded his head as if he were ashamed of the thought.

"Please tell me how to open it." He asks me softly as he brushes a piece of stay hair behind my ear.

"You have to want it; focus on reaching me and feeling me. What do you picture our connection as?"

"A door." He tells me.

"Picture the door." I tell him. He stared at me as if he was looking through me a million miles away. "Close your eyes and focus," I tell him softly as I gently caress his face. He focused on me before letting out a heavy breath and closing his eyes as he gripped me tighter as if I'd disappear. "Picture our connection." I tell him softly. "Do you see it?" I breathe.

"Yes." He mumbles.

"Walk towards it." I instructed him what I usually did. "It's harder to open the connection than close it."

"What if.."

"No, don't. No, what-ifs. You will open it, amore Mio. You need complete confidence to open the door." I tell him, trying to help him. "Walk to the door until you are standing in front of it. Tell me what you see."

"I see the door a few feet in front of me."

"Describe the door." I try to make him have a better picture of it so he won't lose it.

"It's an old rustic medieval door with dark wood and black metal decorative hinges, black circular door knockers on either side, giant metal nails that were put for decoration. There are metal bars over the peepholes. The doors are curved at the top surrounded by stone."

"Doors? There's multiple?"

"It's a double door. Normally one is always open." He tells me. He's the one blocking out our full connection. My door is a singular oak door with a gold decorative nob.

"What now?" He asks me, starting to get nervous.

"Open the door, thinking about wanting to reach me." I explain to him as I place my forehead on his cheek. "You have to want to find me. Open the door and walk through." I tell him softly, wanting to feel him once more.

I felt his heartbeat next to mine and the worry that lingers in his mind. "Indy." I hug him as if I haven't seen him in years as I nuzzle my face into his neck, taking in his scent. His arms wrapped around me, hugging me tighter as he took steady breaths making his chest rise and fall gently. "I'm sorry, my soul." He breathes as quiet as a whisper.

"Please don't do that to me again." I beg him, not wanting to feel alone. "I hate it."

"Me too; I'm sorry, I didn't mean to close it."

"When we get home, I want to try something. I think I figured our connection out." I tell him as I place my forehead on his.

"What did you figure out?"

"I'll tell you when we get home. If I tell you now, we'd never leave because you would want to try it."

"Well, we better hurry home. I still want to talk to you about our disagreement." He pats my shoulder for me to get up. I get off of him then grab my things before going over to him. Is he going to tell me everything is my fault? I'm the one who overreacted? "I'll see you at home." I say as I want confirmation he will actually be there as I walk out the door. I felt a kiss on my hand, causing me to smile.

****

I made it home before he did and tried to convince myself he wasn't lying about coming home. What if he lied and isn't coming back? Where else would he go? This is his house. I grab the book on soulmates flipping to the page about the two lovers with the same connection. Indy walked in, placing his hat and keys on the rack before turning to see me.

"Before we do this, we need to talk and clear a few things up." He sighs. I knew this conversation would be a tough one with all that happened, and neither one of us wanted to fight again. He came over to the sofa, sitting next to me as our shoulders touched. "Harley, I'm sorry. I said some things I shouldn't have said, and I regret everything. You aren't a damsel in distress. You have proven countless times you can take care of yourself. I just get worried, and I don't want anything to happen to you; I'm very protective. I said those things out of anger, and I shouldn't have because I hurt you. It was my fault you ended up going for a walk and getting in that situation. I was worried that I would never see you again. When you came home, and I saw you covered in blood, I was afraid. My fear turned into anger, and I took it out on you once more." He fumbles with his fingers as he explains from his heart. "I never want to see that look on your face ever again, the look of fear, from me. Knowing you were afraid of me killed me, and it made me take a step back and look at everything I did. I was ashamed I treated you like that and scared you. I had to get away. I couldn't be around you and hurt you more than I did. I felt your sorrow; I felt that emotion I caused you. I thought you wouldn't want to see me after that, and you were still upset. I've never seen or felt you cry as much as you did and know I'm the cause of that." He sighs as he hangs his head in shame. "The next morning, I got up to leave, and I knew you were watching me, but I only felt your steady heart. You didn't have any emotions. I left because I was too ashamed to look at you. Hurting the woman I love, I couldn't live with myself. The entire week I was gone, I felt how depressed you were, and I figured you wouldn't like it if I used our connection to feel me so I left it open if you wanted to reach out. I didn't come home last night because I felt you didn't want me anymore didn't want anything to do with me."

"It's not your fault; it's mine. I was selfish because I wanted to go and not be alone here. I understand it's your job, and I should have been excited for you, but I turned it into all about me. I'm the one to blame for starting the argument and ruining the evening. I'm sorry, I should have just kept my mouth shut. You were right; all I do is get myself into bad situations where you have to come and get me out of it. I just think I'm invincible, and I can do anything, but that's not the case. I didn't even notice where I was walking because I was kicking a small rock, looking down, and battling myself inside my head. I should have never gone down there or even stormed out of the house. I understand why you were upset, and you have every right to be."

"I think we are both to blame; I just don't ever want to get so angry you think I'm going to hit you." He places his hand on my thigh, slowly rubbing it with his thumb.

"Honestly, I think I was still shaken up from the whole fight with that man." I admit as I look down at my lap.

"I should have considered that. I'm sorry, my soul. Next time we have a disagreement, we need to talk about it afterward instead of assuming." He suggested.

"I agree."

"I'm glad we got that all cleared up." He puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "I love you."

"I love you too." I smile as I lay my head on his shoulder.

"Alright, now what did you figure out?" He smiles, looking down at me.

"So you said you have a set of double doors? Have you ever opened that other door?" I ask him as I form my theory.

"No, it's always just been the one door. You think if I open them both, we can read each other's minds?" He leans back deep in thought. "Let's try it." He closed his eyes, probably focusing on the door. I waited for something to happen, not knowing if I'd notice if it did. The book said to break down some walls, and they grew closer together. Maybe their connection was a wall while ours is doors. I looked over at Indy, who still had his eyes closed as if he was trying to focus. Did he open the door yet?

'I did.' I heard his voice in my head. I gasped as I listened to his thoughts, and he heard mine. It worked. 'Yeah, you were right. Both doors need to be open for the full connection.'

'This is crazy.'

'Tell me about it; I hear your voice as if you were actually talking to me.' He thinks.

'Same.' I think back.

'I'm curious as to what you think about during the day.' He smiles as he turns to me.

'So many things, honestly.' I shake my head at my constant thoughts.

'I'm curious to see how bad your ADHD is without you masking it.' He turns to smirk at me. I laugh at him and nudge his shoulder with mine. 'I'd probably drive you crazy with my constant thoughts. They don't turn off and just keep going. The times that I don't think I end up falling asleep.'

"Oh boy." He laughs at me before placing a kiss on my head. "Alright, honey, let's get some rest. Tomorrow is a school day, and you definitely need to be well-rested from this stressful week."

"Okay." I say out loud. We go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. I finish my nightly routine then grab Indy's old shirt he gave me to sleep in because I kept taking his clothes. I start undressing while I had my back turned to Indy while he brushed his teeth. 'She's so gorgeous, shit those underwear are sexy on her. Are those new?’ I turn around and smirk at him to see he was watching me in the mirror. He realized I could still hear him and then winked at me. I blush and shake my head before crawling into bed. Indy came over and turned his lamp off before pulling me closer to him pressing his body against mine. I scoot back to feel every inch of him feeling his warmth. 'She drives me crazy.'

'You drive me crazy too.' I think back.

"Good night, my soul." He breaths. I turn around and kiss his lips.

"Good night."

#indy #fanfic #adventure #harrison ford #indiana jones #soulmate #romance #never ending truths #raiders of the lost ark #teacher x student

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dancedwiththe666 · 2 years

Text

Dancing with the Devil and his name is: Kirk Leslie Naziel Reid AKA Kirk Reid

(He who shall not be named)

This blog was made to help woman escape the burden woman hold when meeting this man. Since more woman are learning of this post, it has done its job to save some woman who have reached out. He who shall not be named doesn’t get the luxury of harming more woman. The truth of the matter of he who shall not be named is that.

He is an abusive mother fucker.

He does owe all of the woman he fakes a future with. (Hundreds – thousands)

He will give you a bladder infection. (Because his junk is disgusting, it’s a thing that happens with all narcissist’s)

He will say he’s going to kill himself (oh don’t all of us with he was brave enough)

He will use anything fucked up story to make you afraid of him. Planting seeds of shit he’s supposedly done (but don’t worry, He’s just a bitch)

Don’t be afraid of this loser. Period.

The author of this blog is leaving it as is, and will no longer be checking it. Hopefully more woman can come foreword and comment or share.

This man will give you a fantasy when he meets you. He does this to every woman. Narcissist’s like to FAKE a future with every woman, but people aren’t people to them. They are supply. Kirk will open your doors, will insist to open the car door. Carry your things. Get you coffee and flowers, but GIRL! I am here to tell you that will be the most expensive flowers and coffee you will ever buy. His chivalrous act he gets from movies and books on manipulation. This is where he is doing his best acting in the beginning. He acts so charming, charming the panties right off of you. And any man. Men love Kirk too. He seems like a man’s man. But under the mask he’s a Bitch.

He will then seem so open and honest and get you to open up in the same way. But every thing and I mean EVERYTHING he says is a lie. Kirk doesn’t live in the real world, he lives in a fantasy, so everything he tells you is a lie. One of his best qualities is his lying memory bank.

He will make sure to study you and knows everything about you fast because you tell him, he will mould himself into being the man of your dreams. Then comes the sad stories…

Stories of his childhood, abandonment, sexual assault. He will also tell you about all the woman who cheated on him (this is a huge lie) He has cheated on EVERYONE. He will use this to play the victim of why he’s been to jail so much. He uses this as a way to get what he wants from you. What does he want from you? – Pity – love – money – your body – your ass. He wants to drain everything from you. He will use this to drain you of everything emotionally and physically.

While you are falling for this man of your dreams. He will be working on other supply. He will be messaging other woman on many different fake accounts. This is why he has 2 phone numbers. He will tell you he’s the best loyal guy, while he’s sticking his Dirty Chicken Nugget in every Tuna Canoe in town. He will leave you with a STD cocktail of Syphilis and Chlamydia.

Then he emails all the raunchy pictures of himself and his victims to one of his emails. So many pictures of may woman over the last year. Everyone of these women think they found someone special LOL

He also lies to his friends, especially the woman friends. And so-called best friends, like Danielle. She probably thinks he’s a good guy. Besides the point. Every Woman friend or Man friend Kirk USES. He will only pop up every few months or years and what does he need? FAVORS. A place to stay perhaps, a loan, work done a truck, a ride. Maybe for you to loan him tools. Whatever it is, everyone will do it because they believe his bullshit stories. And another one of his best scam qualities he’s charming. If that doesn’t work, he’s the sad lost puppy. The sad lost puppy who destroys lives.

His so-called Best Friend Merlin will always have his back, but doesn’t know how much Kirk talks shit about him behind his back. He has the audacity to call Merlin a shitty father, to all of his girlfriends! But Kirk has barley paid child support to his 2 children besides a few hundred dollars. Why does he shit talk his friends because Psychopaths can’t have friends, they only see competition. The next step after a narcissist is to become a psychopath. This is what one of his Ex’s therapists labelled him as. We all need therapy after Kirk enters your life.

Kirk will tell you what he needs to in regards to his criminal record, because you can google it. The reason he was sent to the PEN in 2017 is because his Ex Mellissa was 4 months pregnant, Kirk was getting aggressive (even though he says he’s never been physical with a woman). She was leaving him. Kirk didn’t like that, so he sent people to slash her tires. He then began threatening her sister and her other vehicles. So, she told the cops, and because of his 2015 grand thefts long with 3 other warrants he went to jail. Kirk also owes Melissa child support for 4 years on top of that over 12K while they dated.

This is where Kirk and money get interesting, he rarely works. Always makes up stories about how much he makes or what he will do when he retires. Or his next big jobs or BIG PAYOUTS he’s getting. He will borrow money from You, your best friend and dead uncle if he could. He tells his friends he’s going to get 100k loan form the government. No government agency is going to lend a criminal with a record that can go from here to the moon.

Kirk owes his friend Glen over 10k, as well as more friends he borrowed from over the year. Because Kirk is a sad lost puppy, his friends will always be offering him a job, then they find out he’s a shit worker.

Kirk owes his ex-Tara a truck. He totaled the truck that was put in her name, then stopped paying her the payments. But he talks about how its his, and how he’s getting it paid out for insurance. She’s probably still paying for it.

Kirk lied his way back into his ex-Kim’s life last year. He has a 5-year-old with her. He talks about what a great dad he is, and he barley had time to spend with his kid. His children are more like inconveniences, but to everyone else He’s the best dad he says. He owes Kim 5 years of child support and a few 1000 he borrowed from when he was with her.

Imagine a man that has barley paid child support asking the mother that raised his child for years while he was in jail, for money. He’s really a disgusting man.

Rachel is Kirks ex from last year he owes her over 10k as well. Kirk told her he was Christian and fucking prayed with this girl. He also told her he got the Covid vaccine for her because she believes in it. (He got the shot for work). She didn’t even know he had kids for over a year.

Have you seen “THECON” on Disney? He is those characters.

He is also the “THE TINDER SWINDLER” – Except you don’t get any fancy trips or money flow. You just get a homeless man with bad hygiene, and a drug and alcohol problem. Who moves in right away, and how does he get so comfortable so fast!

And the Dick, “is the dick good though?” or is it the only consistent thing he can give you, because well, its FREE!

There are so many other scams Kirk has run and is running now. So much that whole chapter books can be written.

Kirk needs to be avoided at all costs. He will lie, manipulate, abuse you. Physically and emotionally.

All his Ex’s agree he would be better in jail or on another spiritual plain. He is a text book Psychopath/Sociopath.

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