#//giggles because 'jed'

[calmcoldevening]

Little morning with slashers

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ﾟ｡⋆

Tw: no

Characters: Jedidiah Sawyer, Mark Hoffman, Brahms Heelshire, Eric Draven, Jason Voorhees

➤ Jedidiah Sawyer

• As usual, the morning in Texas was quite cool earlier. You've been sleeping surprisingly well lately, so you've been waking up early with a good night's sleep and very rested. The sun was lazily rising from the horizon, coloring the blackness of the sky with golden and orange colors, as if a couple of drops of lingonberry blood had been dropped into the dark water.

• You lazily opened your eyes, squinting at the light coming into the room through the thin curtains. The sheets were cool but damp from the hot Texas night.

• Stretching slightly, you try to get out of bed, but a strong pair of hands stops you, pulling you back to the man's chest. Jedidiah lets out a growl of displeasure, and you giggle softly. Turning to face him, you gently touch the leather straps on his cheeks with your fingers. He forgot to take them off again before going to bed. You gently run your nails over rough skin, the scars under the mask have almost healed, leaving behind uneven pink scars.

• "Good morning, honey," you whisper, briefly kissing him on the forehead. In response, he mutters something softly, pulling you closer to him. His dark hair had grown noticeably longer and was damp from sleeping. You gently brush his bangs out of his eyes, causing a slight smile to form on his lips.

• He was always particularly sloppy in the morning. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are sleepy with small shadows under his eyes. He's wearing a loose white shirt that smells of his body and your own hands. His arms wrapped around your waist like a protective ring, Jed won't let you walk away from him so easily this morning. He likes to just lie with you in the bedroom while the others are sleeping.

• You were the only one, apart from his mom, who really accepted him and saw through those terrible scars. You didn't care about his face, he was still damn handsome to you, and the guy was grateful for that. Jedidiah was so glad that you stayed by his side, became his love of his life and his wife. And he appreciated every second he spent with you.

• Finally, after a long ten minutes, you feel slightly thirsty, after all, you haven't drunk since last night. "Come on, honey, get up. I still have to make breakfast, remember?" You speak with a slight smile and Jed purrs in displeasure, but loosens his grip. You kiss his lips briefly and get out of bed, ready to start a new day. Your husband will stay in bed for a while longer until he feels the pleasant aroma of your breakfast from the kitchen.

➤ Mark Hoffman

• Mark always woke up much earlier than you. Insomnia and stressful detective work made themselves felt. He woke up around four in the morning, his hair and nightgown wet with sweat, his head buzzing after another nightmare. The man held his head with his hands, trying to bring his breathing back to normal.

• After a short introspection, the man turns his head to the side, noticing your peacefully sleeping figure. You've always been so beautiful, even in your dreams. All thoughts of the nightmare disappeared as soon as Mark's gaze lingered on your face. He gently pulls his hand towards your face, gently and gently stroking your smooth skin with his thumbs. He's so happy to have you by his side.

• After a couple of minutes, the man finally gets out of bed, heading to the bathroom and taking off his wet clothes. He takes a quick shower, trying to sober his thoughts with cold water. After that, he makes himself a black coffee. His weekday mornings are insanely simple and gray, but on weekends it's a little different because he can spend time with you in bed until you wake up.

• Mark drinks coffee and looks through some of the Jigsaw case, sometimes instead he finalizes another drawing of a new trap for John Kramer.

• When the time moves to seven in the morning, he already leaves the house, before briefly kissing you on the forehead. You won't remember it, but a sleepy, satisfied smile appears on your face. This, surprisingly, gives Mark a pleasant feeling in his chest.

• When you wake up, he won't be home anymore. You get out of bed and wander into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Mark's breakfast is already on the kitchen table with a note next to it. "I hope you eat this. I know about your problems with food, so I hope you at least have breakfast, little lady." You smile slightly, admiring the note. The omelet he made has a sloppy ketchup heart on it.

➤ Brahms Heelshire

• A morning with Brahms is always a real lottery, you never know what mood he will be in today.

• If Brahms wants to be an adult, he will certainly get up before you. Of course, you cook for him most of the time, but he does not lack the skill to cook something simple. The man will make simple ham and cheese sandwiches and tea/coffee. Having prepared everything necessary, Brahms will return to the bedroom with breakfast ready in bed for you. You're sleeping peacefully, making soft noises. He will wake you up with a gentle kiss on your forehead, and he will put stray strands of hair behind your ear. "Good morning, Princess. I brought you breakfast."

• If Brahms decides to be little, he will be clingy and moody.

• Usually the baby wakes up before you as well. He'll frown, pick up his mask from the bedside table, and just stare at you. Brahms will just lie next to you for a couple of minutes, not knowing where to put himself. At such moments, he always naively thought that when he wakes up, you should already wake up. A man will climb on top of you, putting his chin on your chest.

"Y/N, I'm hungry!"

• He will bother you for a couple of long minutes in a row until you wake up. When you finally sleepily open your eyes, he'll be giggling with his nose in your neck.

"Good morning! I missed you," he purred with happy smile, squeezing you in his arms.

• Mornings with little Brahms are never quiet.

➤ Eric Draven

• Eric usually wakes up before you, he has a fairly light sleep. The guy smiles slightly when cool gusts of wind touch his body, penetrating into the room through the open window, and his feet stand on a warm tree.

• You get up almost behind the guy. Your eyes open sleepily when you don't feel the warmth of your lover on the bed next to you, the sheets under your palms are already cool enough.

• The air is filled with the aromas of flowering plants and young forest. Probably, the decision to move from that small town to a house near the city was the best one in your whole life. You moved in not so long ago, about two months ago, but you have already turned this place into your own cozy nest.

• You get out of bed and stumble awkwardly into the kitchen. Eric was here. His broad back immediately appears in front of your eyes, covered with scars in some places. His favorite big white shirt was on you right now. Eric turns to face you, giving you a warm smile, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

• Previously, a summer morning was always a good time to stay outside. And now the two of you are sitting on the porch. Eric put his arm around you, draping a thin plaid over your shoulders. You were sitting peacefully with each other, drinking hot coffee and looking into the darkness of the forest. Your boyfriend's presence has always been so comforting. Eric looks down at you and kisses you on the forehead, leaving a small wet mark on your skin.

"Good morning, my rose."

➤ Jason Voorhees

• You woke up because you were cold. It's damn cold. You slowly opened your sleepy eyes and sat up in bed, wrapping yourself more tightly in the blanket. The seat next to you was empty. No, of course, you knew that your boyfriend was special and he didn't need to sleep, but he was usually here with you until the morning, warming you with his big body.

• Your first thought was that maybe there were intruders in the camp again. But in such a cold season, hardly anyone would dare to enter the forest 'with ghosts'. So you decided to just wait, hoping for his return soon.

• Jason returned after a long half hour. He entered the room, throwing a large number of branches in front of the fireplace, and looked at you in surprise. He hoped you were still asleep. Jason's gaze slides anxiously over your trembling body. He frowns when he notices how you're shaking from the cold and your blue lips.

• Jason quickly lights a fireplace in the room, throwing in a large number of branches and comes to your bed. He takes you in his arms with care and tenderness, putting you on his lap, and squeezes you in his arms, hoping to warm you. Seeing you like this, Jason was consumed with guilt from the inside, he was so sorry that he left you. The man just didn't expect you to wake up so quickly, he wanted to quickly go get firewood for the extinguished fireplace.

• But you were better now. The room gradually became warm because of the burning fireplace, and the pleasant warmth of Jason's chest gave you peace and comfort. You curled up on his chest like a kitten while he gently stroked your head with his big hand. You felt so good in his arms.

#slashers x reader #jedidiah sawyer #jedidiah sawyer x reader #leatherface x you #the leatherface #leatherface x reader #mark hoffman x you #mark hoffman saw #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms x reader #brahms the boy #brahms heelshire #eric draven #eric draven x reader #eric draven x you #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees

[slashingdisneypasta]

Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader || Reactions

Reacting to: Someone at the store thinking that they're your grandparent- rather then your S/O. (Just something funny I was considering for Inkubus but decided to just do for all of them ^^ XD 😅)

Characters Included: The gilfs of the fandom 😅 ? I'm thinking 50 years and above. Captain Spaulding, Drayton Sawyer, Granny Boone, Inkubus, Jedidiah Sawyer, Luda Mae Hewitt, Mayor Buckman, Mental Manny / Manual Dyer, Peepaw Michael Myers, Norman Nordstrom, Otis B. Driftwood, Pamela Voorhees, Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr, Stuart Lloyd, the Taxidermist / Walter Harris and Winslow Foxworth Coltrane.

Warnings: Major age difference, bad language, sexual references, a really awkward misunderstanding...

Captain Spaulding: Spaulding's a pretty good sport about it XD In fact, he kinda enjoys it. Cuz then he gets to rub it in the persons face what a young, hot thing he's got going here with you and what- what did you say you had again?? Nothin'?? Yeahh, that's what I thought. Fuck right off, why dontcha?

Drayton Sawyer: Drayton goes so red and is about to blow his top. He gets enough shit from his brothers over this! He does not need one more moron bothering him about it! Fuck off! *Grabs you by the arm and storms off*

Granny Boone: "... Grandma, huh? Alright then!~ " *Turns to you* "Come here, sweetie, give grandmother a kiss~ " She's about to ruin that guys whole career 😅😅😅

Inkubus: Inkubus is not amused. Grandpa?? Absolutely not, no. He'll correct the person in the most embarrassing way possible.

Jedidiah Sawyer: Jed does not care at all 😅😅 The only person who's opinion matters to him is yours, so who cares if this guy thinks he's your grandpa? Fine then, he's your grandpa. So go and mow the lawn for him while he sits on the porch and has a sweet tea.

Luda Mae Hewitt: She's is gonna tear that guy a new one. Calling her old?? Son of a bitch, where is that persons manners?? She should set her damn sons on him.

Mayor Buckman: Sorry, Buckman cannot answer this question. He's too busy choking.

Mental Manny / Manual Dyer: Manny loves to correct people. He's got the biggest smile on his face as he goes oh you're mistaken- this is my beautiful partner. A little young, sure, but we sure don't mind~ Oh sweetheart, I think we're going be late for our dinner reservations. Shall we?

Peepaw Michael Myers: Like Jed he struggles to give a shit. Who cares??? He knows that he's not your grandfather and you know he's not your grandfather- that's all that matters. He doesn't care... but he does enjoy giving you a big kiss, with tongue, later when the guy sees you both again. He's a gremlin.

Norman Nordstrom: ... what? Norman is pissed at this idea, he hates it. He feels like a digusting predator (*cough* which he is, though not because you like him ^^) and it hits close to home. He's going to need you to set it straight.

Otis B. Driftwood: "... Ha! Okay, pal, check this out." He'll say, then turn around and basically make out with you right there in front of the guy. Otis is not amused at the poor insinuation and takes it out with lewd efficiency.

Pamela Voorhees: Again- not amused. As far as she's concerned, this total stranger has no business making disgusting insinuations about the two of you, anyway. So she'll ruthlessly take them down a notch with her words- and sweet smile.

Sheriff Hoyt / Charlie Hewitt Jr: "... you think you're funny? No I ain't their fucken grandpa. Didn't your bitch momma ever teach you to mind your business? Oh don't you worry, I can do it for her." Just- my friend- just keep him from taking out the damn shot gun.

Stuart Lloyd: "... oh... uh... n-no, actually- " Stuart forces himself to stutter through a quick explanation- but he wants to crawl into a whole and die (:

Taxidermist / Walter Harris: Gets the nervous giggles 😅😅😅 Doesn't correct them.

Winslow Foxworth Coltrane: Annnnd Foxy loves it XD He was already one kinky mother fucker- you can use this as foreplay. Let him smack your ass while they're still looking but call you 'Hon' or 'Sweetie'- he finds it funny and hot in equal measures.

#Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader Reactions #Older!Horror Villains x Younger!Reader #Horror Villains x Reader Reactions #Horror Villains x Reader #Winslow Foxworth Coltrane #Foxy Coltrane #Walter Harris #Stuart Lloyd #Sheriff Hoyt #Charlie Hewitt #Charlie Hewitt Jr #Pamela Voorhees #Otis B Driftwood #Norman Nordstrom #Michael Myers #Peepaw Michael Myers #Mental Manny #Manual Dyer #Mayor Buckman #Luda Mae Hewitt #Jedidiah Sawyer #Granny Boone #Inkubus #Drayton Sawyer #Captain Spaulding #x Reader #Reactions #Horror Villains #Slashers

[recreationalfanfics]

Duce in cannon that he shy when it comes to talking to girls ( other then his mom and granny ) and out of curiosity how did he react as he realizes that Daley!mc is actually a girl because they can pull any look look so fine?

Because he is but of a hbo but he is cute

*Daley! Reader is gender neutral/can be any gender you desire! For this request, however, they will go by she/her pronouns!*

Can be read as romantic/platonic

- NO BECAUSE IMAGINE THEY WEAR A DORM UNIFORM BASED OFF OF LARRY'S NIGHT GAURD ONE, but like, they end up deciding to wear something more feminine or Vil wants to dress them up to bring out that charm.

- Ace kinda knew from the start and looks at Deuce weirdly when Deuce just stares at you in flustered shock as you model the new outfit.

- "Dude, it was so obvious."

- "CLEARLY NOT TO ME, MAN!"

- He doesn't WANT to treat you differently but because of his shyness towards girls, he can't really help it as well. He has a harder time meeting your gaze and he tries to fix up his mannerisms around you more. Straightening his posture when you walk into a room, doing little grooming things like fixing his hair or patting down his uniform, and other things like that.

- He also starts to notice things about you that makes him realize he should've noticed you were a chick a long time ago. The fact that you have your own separate bathroom, the fact that Jed and Octavius would "stand gaurd" at your room door and yell at them for trying to walk in, and other subtle differences like that.

- If you call him out/ask him about this stuff, he WILL get flustered and stammer out an excuse. HE DOESN'T WANT YOU TO THINK HE'S TREATING YOU DIFFERENT BECAUSE YOU'RE A GIRL- Well, he is but it's not for any sexist reason- oh God, it sounds so bad when he says it like that-

- *cue Jed and Octavius cackling at poor Deuce*

- Don't worry! This awkward phase doesn't last forever. He adjusts to it and still jokes around and hangs out with you as usual, he does grow increasingly protective of you but he also knows when you can handle things yourself.

- I ALSO FEEL LIKE HE FEELS BAD THAT YOU DON'T HAVE ANY GIRL FRIENDS, like he notices that when you guys go to town to pick up ingredients for Trey or paint for the roses, you'll look longingly over to the girls who are out laughing and giggling with their friends, fawning over cute things, and it reminds you of your old friends back in your world.

- So he'll convince the first year gang to do more things with you that might make you happy. Such as planning a nail polishing session! Sebek is down and wants to paint his nails black like Malleus, Epel brings special "no odor" nail polish since the smell is too overwhelming for Jack (Epel won't really do jail polish but Jack would and Epel will do his nails), and Ace is hesitant but Deuce is all: "C'mon dude! They do so much for us. It's the absolute LEAST we can do for them!" and he does do it (and likes it).

- You do Deuce's nails and he gets a little shy again like how he did when he finally realized you were, in fact, a girl. However, when you take a break from your rant and look him in the eyes to thank him with a bright smile, it was totally worth it to him.

- You guys do have more nail polishing sessions because honestly, they really enjoy them.

#Deuce Spade x reader #deuce spade twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #deuce x reader twst #deuce x reader #twst deuce #twst deuce x reader #twisted night at the museum au

[cammys-imagines24]

•Having a Baby with The Corinthian•

Call me crazy but I think The Corinthian would be an amazing father.

We all saw how he was with Jed (granted he just needed to keep Jed safe for his own personal gain but still)

Like, imagine if he has a partner (you) and he loves you and you both are like "Why don't we have a kid?" he's gonna love it.

Yes, he's a literal nightmare, a serial killer, an eye ball eating, teeth for eyes being but he also would be such a cool dad.

Honestly though, there won't be much discipline from him surprisingly. You're going to have to be the tough parent if you want your kid to be well behaved in anyway.

The Corinthian is a very intimidating nightmare to say the least with an often no nonsense, practical way of going about things but with his own kid? He will burn the whole world down if it makes his kid smile.

He will also commit any and every atrocity and crime if it means getting his kid what they want.

Say your child is having a meltdown because they want ice cream, well then they're getting ice cream even if it means he has to burn down said ice cream truck (with the ice cream vendor inside)

The Corinthian is very good with not committing said murders and eating eye balls from said murder victims in front of his child though.

His more "nightmarish" traits he keeps well away from them. Hidden.

Despite being a nightmare he would never want to scare his own kid so he would keep his glasses on religiously around them as well.

But can you imagine if one day he forgets to put them on before going to check on the baby and instead of crying his kid just starts giggling at his eye teeth instead? It would warm his heart that his baby isn't afraid of him.

Okay but he would pick the most inappropriate onesies for the baby though. They'll probably say things like "Daddy's lil nightmare" and "Child of a killer dad, no literally."

The Corinthian has no concept of what is healthy for your baby. If you're not present during feedings he will just end up giving the infant raw cookie dough and candy.

Your baby will definitely not have a normal upbringing but hey, that's to be expected.

He's just having the time of his life being a father and although his ways are unorthodox no one can deny how much he loves his baby.

The fact that he, a nightmare, could create a little person of his own with the one he loves makes him feel awestruck.

And, that said baby isn't scared of him and loves him makes him feel things he's never felt before.

It makes The Corinthian feel incredibly human to be a father and have a loving significant other. He's always wanted to know what that's like and now his dream came true.

#the sandman #the sandman netflix #the corinthian #the corinthian x reader #the corinthian x reader smut #the corinthian imagine #the corinthian headcanons #the corinthian headcanon #the sandman x reader #the sandman x reader smut #the sandman imagine #the sandman headcanons #the sandman headcanon #the sandman fanfic #boyd holbrook

[thranduilland]

17 for the Soft™ fic prompt meme? 👀

17 - absently adjusting clothing Hob bites down on a sigh as Dream adjusts the collar of Hob’s shirt for the sixth time in half an hour. It had been amusing the first couple of times, just seeing Dream nervous, because until today, Hob had never seen his lover nervous. But, then the fidgeting hadn’t stopped. Hob’s not even sure Dream’s aware of it.

Hob understands this is an important meeting. He’d be nervous too, if he were in Dream’s place. But this seems incredibly excessive. He has to bite his tongue to not say anything as Dream smooths down Hob’s tie. There was nothing wrong with the tie, Hob had already checked after the first and second times Dream had done it. There was nothing wrong with the collar of his shirt either and-“

“Dream,” he finally says, with a little sigh as he turns his hand to capture Dream’s own as his lover is about to fiddle with Hob’s cufflink. “What’s wrong? Why are you so nervous about this, love?”

“I am not nervous,” Dream answers without any hesitation, Hob merely raises an eyebrow.

“We agreed we wouldn’t lie if we could help it.”

“Right, we did agree that,” Dream answers, letting out a very soft sigh. “It is… it is irrational.”

“What is, duck? Talk to me.”

“I-I want them to like you. I do not wish to have to choose between you,” Dream says, Hob sighs, squeezing his hand.

“I wouldn’t make you choose, Dream. If they don’t like me then they don’t like me, that’s just how it is. But I wouldn’t force you to choose,” Hob says, lifting Dream’s hand to his lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I promise. It’s not the end of the world, my sweet.”

“Calliope had to choose,” Dream says, barely more than a whisper.

“Because she was forced to,” Hob points out, frowning. “Do you think they’d make you choose?”

“No,” Dream answers after a very long pause. “I do not think so.”

“Then let’s see what happens, okay?” Hob asks, giving Dream’s hand another squeeze. “It’ll be fine, I promise.”

“You cannot promise that,” Dream points out, but he does seem to relax some, so Hob will take it.

“I just did, so tough,” he says, with a grin.

The bell above the door dings and he turns towards it in curiosity. Immediately, Dream is tense again and Hob mourns the small gain he’d made even as one of his students and her little brother come into the Inn, chatting intensely about something he cannot hear. His student glances up, sees him and Dream and she raises an eyebrow as she all but bounds towards them, her brother trailing behind her.

“Hey, Uncle Dream!” she says, shooting Dream a giant smile as she turns to Hob, that eyebrow still raised. “Hey, Prof G, didn’t know you guys knew each other?” she asks, Hob blinks, then bursts out laughing as beside him Dream stares in shock.

“You have met before?” Dream asks, while Hob is too busy giggling to be of any help.

“Yeah, course! Prof G’s my mentor. He helped me get into that internship program I was telling you about last week,” Rose says, as she sits herself down at the table, Jed claiming the chair beside her.

“I told you it would be fine, Dream,” Hob says, wiping tears from his eyes. “Will you stop adjusting my clothes, now?”

“What?”

“Oh, he does that when he’s nervous. He introduced us to Aunty Death last month, and the whole time he kept obsessing over straightening up our clothes. I don’t even think Aunty Death noticed!” Rose says with a smile.

“Made me dress up all nice and everything and she didn’t even care!” Jed grumbles, glaring at the table.

“I thought it was sweet!” Rose exclaims, shaking her head. “Uncle Dream just wanted us to make a good first impression, because you only get one of them!”

“Right. Well, considering I called Death stupid in her hearing before I ever met her, I made a very bad first impression,” Hob says, as Dream starts to relax beside him, obviously trusting now that things aren’t about to fall apart as he’d been expecting. “Anyway, how-“ Hob pauses, turning to give his lover a look when he reaches up with his free hand to adjust the collar of Hob’s shirt. “Dream.”

“It was crooked!” Dream defends, but there is a smile playing on his lips and Hob huffs, as Rose and Jed laugh.

“I’m sure it was, my love. I’m sure it was.”

#Dreamling #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #Rose Walker #Jed Walker #The Sandman #my fics #ask prompts

[9leaguesofmirrors]

Dating Jed Hunter Headcanons

Got this from a screenshot of an edit, credits to @mltvd on Instagram

I told y'all I'd do this! And I am a woman of my word! This is mainly for giggles, so I might not make another one (unless... /hj), but I was surprised by how well my Jed appreciation post did so I decided to make this for all the Jed Hunter fans and appreciators out there

This man puts the gentlemen in League Of Gentlemen. He'll always offer to pay, but won't push if you want to because he respects your right to choose. He'll offer to walk/drive you home and makes sure you get in safely. And he'll always compliment you whenever he gets the chance

He's the King of really bad dad jokes that he knows are awful

He also LOVES telling you dumb pick-up lines to make you both laugh. He'll come up behind you while you're doing something, wrap his arms around your waist, kiss your cheek, then say some corny line as he tries to hold his giggles in. Or he'll text you one without context occasionally

Whenever he struggles with casting, he'll show you audition footage and asks for your opinions - no matter how much acting experience you have, he truly appreciates your feedback

Cinema and drive-in theatre dates are an absolute guarentee. He likes discussing the film afterwards and hearing what you thought of it, even if your opinions differ. In fact, that makes it fun!

He's also down to watch something at home with snacks, he isn't fussed either way - time spent with you is time well spent

He could listen to you talk for ages. No matter what the subject is, even if he has no clue what you're on about, he loves seeing you get excited when you talk about things you're passionate about. He just thinks you're 👌🏻 kewl 👌🏻

This guy gives the best hugs. Seriously, they're warm and strong without crushing your bones. And he'll always give you one when you need it

Sometimes he worries that his worklife means he ends up neglecting you since being in the entertainment industry is very time-consuming ("so is eating a clock" would be his response) and it's too important to him to give it up. He sometimes fears that you might think he loves his job more than you, which is not true, so he'll try and make it up to you by getting you involved in projects he does. Backstage jobs, small roles in the background, he'll always offer if there's a space for you - but of course, he'll never push the point. His logic is, rather than having to choose between the two things he loves, why not blend them together?

But make no mistake, he's always up for getting stuck in with your hobbies too! No matter what it is, he's always up to try something new. Even if it's super niche, Jed is open for it

Although he always prioritises treating everyone equally... he's not opposed to giving you discounts to any shows/films he puts on - and they just happen to be the best seats in the house

Dating Jed is like dating your best friend: fun and completely relaxed

#reece shearsmith #steve pemberton #mark gatiss #jeremy dyson #league of gentlemen #the league of gentlemen #britcom #british comedy #jed hunter

[unseenacademic]

new hampshire: it's what's new, and dead irish writers?

New Hampshire: It's What's New: Once upon a time there was a girl who'd write thousands of words based on a single line spoken by one of her favorite characters. Spoiler alert: I'm that girl, that girl's me! Lol! So, the title obviously comes from the silly slogan we see in the flashback in "Bartlet for America" while Jed's still the governor of NH. The plot is relatively simple, Jed and Abbey are having dinner after a long, busy day and he tells her that Leo wants him to run for president. And they make a deal.

Have a snippet:

“New Hampshire. It’s what’s new.” “New Hampshire, it’s what’s new?” Abbey repeated. “Sure, because it’s 1632.” Jed laughed. “My aids came up with a new slogan that’s gonna earn us 367 million dollars in revenue. In snowmobiling.” “And ‘Live Free or Die’ is gonna earn us only 350 million dollars in revenue?” Abbey asked drily.

The Dead Irish Writers Missing/Drinking scene: I posted a couple of snippets from this fic on the server (reason #235081 why you should join us, just sayin') but it's just a plotless, little, self-indulgent fic with the rest of the scene where CJ, Donna and Amy get drunk with the First Lady.

Le snippet:

“Amy wants to write a book about me. You know who also wrote a book about me, CJ?” “F. Scott Fitzgerald?” CJ suggested.  Amy giggled. Abbey looked from CJ to Amy and back to CJ over the rim of her glass.  “No, Danny,” she said.  “Who’s Danny?” Amy reached for the bottle to fill her glass.  “Danny Concannon.” “Danny Concannon?” Donna asked, and held her glass towards Amy who filled it with wine.  “Danny Concannon?” Amy echoed.  “A reporter—” CJ started.  “CJ’s crush,” Abbey chorused with her.  CJ glared at Abbey, or at least the look she directed her way was as nasty as she dared to use on the boss’s wife. Abbey grinned.  “Danny Concannon is a reporter who worked for The Washington Post—” “—and whom our CJ had a crush on.” Abbey finished, with a special emphasis on the word ‘whom’. Jed wasn’t the only person in their marriage who could torture people with the rules of prescriptive grammar. Jackass.  “CJ has a crush on Danny!” Amy drawled in a voice that reminded Abbey of her daughters in various stages of their teen and pre-teen years.

Thank you, friend! 💜💜💜💜💜

#ask game

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter Fourteen: Odd Occurrences

Mentions of: Stalking, Gaslighting/Manipulation? Paranoia, Anxiety, Sleep Deprivation and Danny being a little shit and fucking w mcs head

A/N: Poor, Poor, Reader…Unfortunately Ghostface is just getting started.

Tags: @mama-miya @vandeaad @moonshineinasippycup @dead-bxxxtch-walking @stwbwwychan @the-fandoms-georgie @froegis

Weird things have been happening. For the past couple of weeks, you keep on getting these strange occurrences in your apartment. You didn’t notice it at first, but when you did, you assumed it was typical forgetfulness.

You’re busy and stressed from work. You’ve lost things and found them in different places plenty of times before, and that’s what you assumed it was.

But then things got weirder. Your shoes, which you would normally take off at the front door, would be found in the bathroom. Your clothes would go missing, especially your underwear. Your books and journals would be moved to separate shelves, and so would the photos of you and your family.

No one had the keys to your apartment, besides the landlord. Considering the fact that she’s sixty-five and is never around, you doubt that she would come into your place and move your shit everywhere.

There were no signs of a break-in, and you had no idea how anyone could be getting into your apartment. For a moment, you almost thought it was haunted. But then, you knew you were being ridiculous. There’s no such thing as ghosts.

But you can’t find a rational explanation for what’s happening, and you’re getting…scared. You feel like you can never be alone anymore, having Jesse drive you to and from work. Most nights you barely get any sleep. Sometimes you don’t even want to leave the Gazette, because that’s the only place where you feel safe.

“______, ______, Hello?” A familiar voice called your name, causing you to flinch. Your bloodshot eyes snapped up from the monitor, spotting Jed standing in front of you.

“Are you alright there? You seem….jumpy.” He asked, a look of concern dawned on his features.

You glanced around, seeing that it was five minutes before closing time and everyone was packing up. You flashed him a small smile, sighing softly. “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired.”

“Jamison’s working you to the bone, huh?” He leaned over your desk, grinning at you. You nodded, letting out a small giggle.

You turned off your computer and grabbed your purse and jacket, preparing to leave for the day. Jed followed after you. “Do you want me to walk you out?”

“Sure, that would be nice.” The two of you exited the building together, making some brief small talk as you left.

You barely know how to make conversation right now, and you can’t focus. All you ever think about is your apartment, and what’s happening. But it’s not just at your apartment.

You’ve also been feeling very paranoid. There’s been this nagging feeling that you can’t explain. It just feels like you’re being watched and followed wherever you go. Even when you’re in public, you don’t feel safe.

You’re hypervigilant, jumping and flinching easily, and frantically searching for anything and everything. A loud noise, a shadow creeping in the corner of your eye, a hooded figure following you..

“Are you sure you’re okay, ______? Lately, you’ve been really out of it.” Jed placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Your body immediately tensed up, his touch burning against your skin.

“Uh yeah, I’ve just been a bit stressed from work and all. I’m fine, I just could use some rest, is all. Thank you, for your concern though.” You rambled nervously, trying your best not to stumble over your words or stutter.

You haven't told anyone about what’s been happening at your Apartment, and you’re definitely not telling Jed. He’d think you were crazy, and at this point, you wouldn’t disagree with him.

Suddenly, there was a beep of a car horn, making both of you jump. You turned, spotting Jesse pulling up to the curb. “That’s my ride. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jed.”

“See you tomorrow.” With that, you hopped into Jesse’s car, buckling yourself in the passenger’s seat. “Seems like I witnessed a pretty steamy moment. Hand on shoulder? Wow.”

“Just drive, dipshit.”

–

Letting out a long sigh, you pulled your keys out from your purse, fiddling with them briefly. You were so swamped at the restaurant that you completely forgot about what was happening at home. But now, when you stood in the empty hall of your apartment complex, all you could do was think about it.

Might as well get it over with.

You thought to yourself, twisting the key a few times and jiggling the doorknob before it finally opened. As usual, your things had been moved. Just when you thought you could get a break.

One of your favorite blouses was on the kitchen table, its eggshell white colors now being stained bright red. Upon closer inspection, you realized it wasn’t blood or wine, it was your lipstick.

On the back of it, there was a smiley face drawn on it and a heart. You felt a sick sense of deja vu.

That night at the diner, someone had drawn a circle on the sign in paper. You assumed it was Nate pulling a prank on you, but now you’re not so sure.

Someone or something is fucking with you, and you’ve had it. You panicked, impulsively grabbing your phone and dialing 911. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but I think there’s someone in my apartment, or breaking into my apartment when I’m not there. Every time I come home, things have moved around. Like my clothes, my books, and stuff. But there’s no sign of a break-in or anything.” You ranted.

“Has anything been taken from your apartment?” The operator asked.

“Yeah, I think. My Uhm, my underwear. I’ve been losing pairs left and right and I- I don’t know where they went.” You felt your face flush with embarrassment. God, you sound insane. You couldn’t believe you were saying this.

“Is there anyone you know that would do this? How long has it been going on for?”

“No, and that’s why it’s so weird. It’s been happening for a couple of weeks, I think? Maybe more. At first, I thought it was my doing, like I would just put things in other places and forget about them, but it’s getting really strange. Tonight, it was the worst. When I came home, I found this shirt, stained with my lipstick, and there was a smiley face and a heart drawn on the back.”

You paced around nervously, walking over to the kitchen to find the shirt. To your surprise, it was gone. Like it was never there in the first place. You didn’t hear anything or see anyone-

What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? Is this all in my head?

“What’s your address, ma’am? I can have a car over and have someone check it out. Is there somewhere else you can stay? Somewhere you feel safe?”

You couldn’t answer. You didn’t feel safe anywhere anymore. You didn’t even know what was real.

The last thing you wanted was to waste any more of the police’s time just because you were having a mental breakdown. “I-It’s fine. Nevermind. I’m just being crazy. Thank you, but forget it.”

With that, you hung up the phone. You groaned to yourself, hiding your face in your hands.

What are you going to do?

#dead by deadlight #dbd #dbd killer #dbd x reader #killer x reader #jed olsen x reader #dbd jed olsen #jed olsen #dbd danny #dbd danny johnson #danny johnson dbd #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #ghostface dbd #dbd ghostface #ghostface fanfic #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface #killer x you

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Bewitching Fate/New Self-Insert?

So as y'all know I've been hyperfixated mainly on FF14 and FFSOP as of late. Y'all also know that my royal s/i is my ff14 s/i because I want all my loves together~! (Canon be damned, my worlds now!)

BEWARE: Spoilers for FFSOP and FF14 (mainly Shadowbringers)

So some of you also know that at the end of SOP Jack and his friends become the bringers of darkness Chaos and the Fiends of Chaos in order to create new Warriors of Light for the land they inhabit. Well, in FF14, Guess what your character becomes?

Ding Ding Ding If you guessed a Warrior of Light, you get a cookie and kisses from your f/o (the kisses were gonna happen regardless, but yeah)

Well, the organization that Thancred and all my friends/family are in -- the scions -- work with the Warrior of Light to bring light to Eorzea! And any beings of darkness are considered an enemy...

Well, Jack still has his 'day job' as my s/i's royal guard! So when she ventures off and ends up staying in Eorzea longer than planned, you know he and our friends aren't too far behind. The only problem on top of the internal cruel twist of fate of me being a WoL is that people in Eorzea can see others' aetherial balance...

So let's just say the first meeting between factions was very... tense to put it lightly. If it wasn't for me so excited to see Jack, Jed, Ash, Neon, and Sophia, then vouching for them to the point I said "I'm a princess and the only one who can slay primals! If you wanna fight these guys, I hope you found someone else who won't become a mindless slave to the primals 'cause I'll quit. Not my land so it really shouldn't be my problem BUT IT IS!"

Needless to say, everyone lowered their weapons but kept their eyes peeled for any sort of slip-up from the other side. Especially Thancred when it came to Jack... If anyone asked, he said it was simply because he couldn't risk such darkness corrupting their strongest ally further... But who knows why he'd spy in on softer moments..?

--

Now fast forward to ShadowBringers where I and the scions find ourselves in a situation to save a world overrun with Light. This place is so off-balance that the light has turned many of its inhabitants into angelic-looking monsters known as sin eaters who only live to consume aether!

So now it's my job to slay the mightiest sin eaters known as Light Wardens in order to bring darkness back to the realm and restore balance.

The only problem is I'm the only one who can take in their light without transforming immediately myself. But even then we don't know how much light I can take...

Fast forward EVEN MORE to the death of the final Light Warden and me taking in their light. That was the straw that broke my frail form's back and instilled the beginning of a transformation.

My daughter Ryne (A girl originally known as another Minfilia since she was bestowed powers to prevent a total flood of light) was powerful enough to halt the corruption but not cleanse it and no way is currently known!

SO with that said what if Jack and our friends were also with the scions. Therefore when they see the transformation and how some of my allies will be so quick to turn against me should I show any signs, they decide to join me in the enduring battles since who better to bring back the darkness then those who embody it?

Also cue a moment where I make Jack promise to kill me if and when I lose myself, much to our mutual dismay

But with that said: a whole sin-eater AU has been in my mind so I even have a design at behest of my bestie @floweringforgetfulness for biblically accurate Becca (I still lose myself to giggles with that) I have a design (THANK YOU BESTIE!!!!!!)

The only thing is that as a Light Warden/Sin Eater they usually go by names like "Innocence" "Tesleen the Forgiven" "Eros" "Philia" so I kinda wanna keep that name so I was thinking something along the line of Paitence since the others are like greek forms of love/virtues

So any ideas would be appreciated!!

taglist: @jellyfish-ships @canongf !@hadesgoddess @nyandereneko @disneymarina @goldenworldsabound @singingdeepinme @violetsandmilk

#fo community #selfshipdom #self insert community #selfship community #self ship community #angel au #au idea #oc x canon #friends art #ship: paradise found #ship: stories along the stream

[tortoisesshells]

ask game: 4, 13, 22? please and thanks <3

4. ... with dialogue I'm proud of:

answered here, and here, but this is an oldie. From her eye discourses, in which the patients and staff of a Union hospital argue about performing Shakespeare.

“So, our Seccesh nurse is our Juliet, our hapless Chaplain not our Friar but a Romeo, and Mary Phinney takes for herself the humble roll of Nurse. Where am I in this production?” “You seem a Mercutio to me,” Mary said, and a small smile, like a cat’s, crept onto her face. Jed could not help but smile in return. It was not at her words, though he minded them, but at her voice, her smile, the weak candle-light in her hair, the ease with which she engaged him and – yes – smiled. “Are you saying you’d see me run through?” “Not in the least.” “Well, then, I pray thee, Nurse,” he said, grandly, to his audience of one, “explain thyself.” “You’re clever,” she replied, her gaze frank and eyes sparkling in the lamplight, “And you enjoy your own cleverness. You perform it, at times, I think, and not for any persons’ benefit but your own.”

13. ... that helped me understand a character better:

answered here, and I'm not sure I understand anything about any characters from 1899, but, I did feel like I answered some of my questions about 'was the fire that killed Eyk's family an accident' and 'what happened to Sara Larsen'?

They talked more, until their home was before them and he had to hold her arm on the narrow stairs; in hindsight, he saw that he had never answered her questions – that Keats had gone untranslated, and he was at sea when the concert took place, so Sara had gone with Luise Ferner and her husband. He had not seen it then – nor did he heed what followed – Sara sat giggling at her dressing table, twiddling her fingers in the candlelight and humming, unwilling to dress for bed. He thought, if she would let him, he should do it for her; he was young, after all, not long married – easily flustered by the sight of Sara’s long hair over her bare shoulders. Still a little punchy from the wine, she had started to draw her hand back and forth through the flame. “You’ll hurt yourself, sweetheart,” he protested, taking her hand in his. She giggled again, and made to pull her hand out of his; because he was young, and Sara was bright-eyed and pretty, and because he could not see the future, he brought her hand up and kissed it. “I will not hurt myself if I am quick enough,” Sara said, pulling her hand away, and demonstrating, “See? You see?”

22. ... that is so blissfully self-indulgent:

I am going to cheat and share something for the seriously delayed ch. 31 of Customs. Unbelievably, I wrote this before my favorite dead side character in DS showed up as a seaweed-covered ghost.

In her dreams, Lieutenant Nibley was standing in her parlor, streaming salt-water and rot. Eyes gone, flesh half-eaten. She felt sick with fear at the sight of him, but could not say it or give sign of it. Skin shredded. Blue. Barnacles, open as if to a current. That fine blue coat ragged, as much bladder-wrack as gold braid and wool. A – a crab, scuttling into the empty socket. The tea tray was on the table and she busied herself with it, while he spoke to her. At her. Accusation. She swallowed and handed him a piece of molasses cake, the dish of tea. His hand was – God help her, she thought when she woke – clammy, cold and claw-like as Samuel’s had been the morning after his passing. She remembered his living hand on her wrist, pulling her down into the harbor and – And she was awake, then. Cold and alone in her own bed, Nellie gritted her teeth and brought her forehead to her knees, curling up as tightly as she could. Had she cried out? She prayed not, listening for the sounds of her children stirring, or footsteps in the hall. Nothing, thank God. There was rain on the roof, against the windows; the storm had come in from the south, hot to the touch. Some part of her remembered the unseasonable hurricane that had nearly ripped the Constance in two only just earlier in the year; May seemed like it had been years ago, rather than a season, and the Nellie Treat who had spent hours at the pumps praying for their trials to end another being entirely. Perhaps she was: it was hard to imagine the woman who had drunk rum in a Nassau tavern with a pirate crew was the same who’d gotten her hands under Commodore Norrington’s collar in a dark garden. Rather than reconciling the two – well. She didn’t want to dwell on it, but then, her mind, of late, was a street cur that would find something gruesome to gnaw on.

Send me a number and I'll share an excerpt of my writing!

#thank you for the ask kind friend! #polkaknox talks #ask meme #customs and duties

[darthstitch]

Fic Snippet: DART (...still a WIP)

Here's the thing about having the personification of the collective human unconscious as your Dungeon Master.

He's a Ridiculousness Magnet™ - even if he's actually not using any magical shenanigans to affect the outcome of the game.

"I believe it would be unfair and certainly untrue to the spirit of the game," Dream of the Endless had said, once the Hellfire Club had realized what he really was.  "Also, I would rather that any powers I might choose to wield might be better suited to turning impudent little mortal children into frogs."  

"Awww, but you love us too much, right, Murphy?" said Dustin cheerfully.

The King of Dreams leaned back in his seat and pursed his lips.  "Perhaps I might consider mushrooms.  Or a particularly odorous toadstool.  There are a number of them in the Dreaming - I could always use a few more."

"But nephews are safe, right, Uncle Dream?" said Jed, giggling.  

A long, elegant finger gently booped the boy on the nose.  "Perhaps a mouse would suit you better, little nephew."  

That being said, ridiculousness still happened on a regular basis during the game.  

"Dustin," Eddie said patiently.  "You found a weird critter in the garbage can.  Why aren't you going to blast it to Kingdom Come?"

"Just because it's weird-looking doesn't necessarily mean it's dangerous!"

"It could grow up to EAT you, numbnuts!  Or worse!  Come on, Murphy, talk some sense into him."

Dream shrugged.  "It is his choice."

"Oh Jesus Christ.  Roll the dice, kiddo - and don't blame us if that thing grows up into some kind of Lovecraftian monster - especially since our DM here is probably responsible for all of Lovecraft's demented shit."

"Perhaps it would not comfort you to know that his brand of cosmic horror has some basis in reality...?"

"AUGH! WE DON'T WANT TO KNOW!"

"I am Lord of Nightmares for a reason.  Fear and tremble before me, mortal children."

"Uncle Dream, it's kinda hard to do the required grovelling when we've seen you plop yourself into Professor G's lap and demand cuddles," Rose said archly.  "It's disgustingly cute and adorable and brain bleaching all at the same time."

"Alas, my dear niece, my husband is too tempting to resist.  Dustin - if you please."

Of course, Dustin rolls successfully and the critter is officially adopted, as far as the game was concerned.  

"I'm naming him D'Artagnan," Dustin said gleefully.  "Dart, for short!" 

-tbc-

*runs*

#dreamling #dream of the endless #rose walker #the history class cryptids series #history class cryptids #stranger things fusion #i crack what i want #plot bunnies afoot #shhh nobody tell neil

[goorehound]

should I be working on requests? yes. am I overcome with the urge to write out some Danny headcanons? also yes. this is a bit of a mess but I’m self indulgent and I want to start posting about Danny.

disclaimer that Danny and Jed are written as the same person, not separate personalities or anything of the sort. Just the man and his geeky persona.

Dating Danny vs dating Jed Olsen headcanons

Dating Jed Olsen

Jed is sweet. He’s the planning out dates, random little gift trinkets kind of guy. You might just be a ploy for him to fit in better, to divert suspicion, or because he couldn’t keep his eyes off you - but fuck is he going to try and ace the boyfriend role. The happier you are, the less questions you’ll ask.

Jed is good at talking. He says just enough that makes you feel like you know him well, but when you’re put on the spot you couldn’t list five personal facts about him. Where was he born? Who’s his best friend? Who are any of his friends? Does he have any hobbies? What’s his family like?

Jed is respectful. He asks things like are you sure? The first time you kiss him. He gets flustered if you catch him staring. He gets bashful when he makes the first move. It’s almost too sweet.

He stays in late for work a lot. Not enough to rise any suspicions, and it only makes him come across as a more diligent and professional journalist.

Sometimes it’s a little off putting how much Jed knows about you. But he always soothes away those alarm bells with an explanation that seems plausible enough. Besides. It’s Jed, he’s just attentive that’s all.

Dating Danny Johnson

He’s goofy as fuck. Genuinely sometimes you don’t understand how people are scared of him - he cracks stupid jokes, he giggles for gods sake. Once in a while you get lost in his easy and funny behaviour that you forget he’s dangerous.

And then comes the temper. If you’ve forgotten that he’s dangerous you’ll soon be reminded - though it’s usually set off by odd little things. Phrasing is everything with him. If you somehow infer he’s plain or predictable, his mood will sour. If you infer he’s sloppy or anything less than meticulous, he’ll go eerily silent. If you make him feel like he’s lost control of the situation it can go one of two ways - it’ll excite him or set him off. It’s a 50/50 chance there and a complete gamble.

When things are good with Danny they can feel so, so good. When things are bad with Danny you’ll find yourself wishing you’d never had the misfortune to meet him.

It’s almost endearing how much he dedicates to knowing everything he can about you. A little uncomfortable. But he knew your comfort foods, your routine, your favourite clothing brand, what meals you’d order, he knows what you like to do what you’re alone, he can tell when something is troubling you (and can usually puzzle out what it is that’s bothering you,) the list goes on.

He’s good with his words. If he wants something, he’ll make you want it to - and make it seem like it was all your idea. He’s not a huge fan of having his ideas shot down.

If he wants to tell you he loves you, he’ll make sure you do it first. But if you say it by yourself before he planned it out, you’ll absolutely break his brain. The idea that someone would love him without him forcing them to? Loving him for himself, and not Jed? Windows error. Danny.exe is no longer responding.

He’s got mommy issues. That’s all I’m gonna say on that one.

He has a hoard of photos of you. Some taken while you’re smiling and posing. Some of you sleeping. Showering. Walking to work. Talking with friends. Cooking. During sex - with him and before him.

#danny johnson #ghostface #dead by daylight #Jed Olsen #headcanons

[homesickghoul]

Ascending Heaven chapter 3

Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson / Reader (fem) tw everything (nsfw, gore, horror, dubious consent, torture, dead dove: no not eat, cosmic horror, suicide themes, substance abuse and addiction, hurt no comfort etc) proceed with this in mind originally published by gghouleh in AO3 2021-09-25 -> ongoing Chapter 3

You find yourself standing near a farmhouse. It’s warm, the burning midday sun shining and so, because you’ve grown used to the endless darkness, it blinds you momentarily. It’s alright, it is something new to feel at last. You can feel the ultraviolet kissing your skin gently, and a wide smile climbs onto your face. You let a choked giggle escape your chapped lips. The air feels and smells clean compared to the one at the campsite. You drop your gaze onto your hands, inspecting the dirt covering them, noticing some of your nail’s chipping and breaking. Your head is pounding, and you feel like an elderly dog warming their old bones in the sun, but still for a moment you feel like you’re home again, alive like you used to be, a human, of flesh and blood.

It must’ve been a half a minute, or even a full one, but you’re still very much processing the change of scenery when someone grabs you by the hand, interrupting your daydreams and forces you to run next to them. “Stay close, I’ll show you.” Dwight promises. He’s a good guy, and like many, you too consider him to be the leader of the group; you trust him. He’s been nothing but nice to you. “Thanks.” You stutter under your breath, confused and lightheaded. You two stop by a generator, which Dwight starts working on, not wanting to waste any time. Time is money and money is life.

“Like this, look.” He goes on and grabs a handful of different colored wires and begins to rewire them with precision. You kneel next to Dwight and try your best to copy his handiwork. “You’re doing well.” Dwight smiles, causing your cheeks to burn slightly. You try to hide behind your hair, turning your head away from the man. Gosh, you’re acting like a schoolgirl. Focus, we must focus, brothers.

“Had a great teacher.” You answer and you two laugh about it together. “It’s important to keep an eye on your surroundings. Watch out that no-one sneaks up on you.” Dwight’s tone gets serious, just as you thought you guys were having fun. “And? What happens then?” You ask, rightfully confused. No answer. “Dwight?” “Just don’t get caught, okay?” “What?” “We’ll do our best to save you.” “What?” “I’m sorry.” Is all Dwight whispers, leaving you curious, in need of more details, an explanation, anything more. The gen pops and the light above it ignites. Dwight gets up from the ground, observing his surroundings. You look up to him with big, concerned eyes – there’s a spark of fear behind them.

“Walk over to the little shack over there, saw Feng Min going in there earlier. I’ll keep him busy.” Keep what busy? Huh?

Then you see it. I t. Oh. You get up quickly, but way too delayed than you’d like to admit, noticing a strange man in the distance, getting closer and closer. Suddenly your whole being fills with pure terror. You hear a heartbeat. It’s having a rave between your ears, making a nest in your brain. For a moment, you’re frozen still and might’ve never moved a muscle if not was for Dwight who pushes you. After that you don’t need to be told twice. Instead of walking you start running as fast as you can, only once daring to look behind, then noticing Dwight run to the opposite direction with the tall, masked man on his trail. Just looking at the being, man-thing? Made you feel sick to your stomach. He’s tall, unbelievably so, muscular, and yes, might possess two legs and two hands with thumbs, but those are the only qualities that you’re able to describe as humanoid. He’s wearing a muddy, bloody white mask with a creepy, sewn smile on it. His skin is dirty, dead, flakey, spikes of metal poking out of him. Oh, and not to forget, on his hand rests a bloodied blade. It’s clear to you now: the others had left many, important things unsaid. Experiencing the crippling emotions of betrayal and anger, you finally reach the shack, seeing Feng in there fixing a generator. At the entrance, on the ground, you see a rusty thing, what, a trap? “Bear trap. Don’t step in them. That one’s safe though, it’s not activated.” Feng Min mentions just in time and motions you to come closer. “Oh.” You choke, this new information acting as the final straw to your list. You’re done, sick and tired, what else was there to know? You did know beforehand that there would be someone to chase after you four, but with beartraps and a huge fucking blade? No, no, now that would’ve been very, very nice to know. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Feng states as you begin to help her. Biting you lip, you try to control yourself so you wouldn’t snap and let frogs out of your mouth.  You’re so incredibly unwell, angry, but you try not to show it. Because maybe, just maybe, everything has a logical explanation, and all would turn out okay. No, you’re not that naïve. 

“What happens when it catches you?” You ask, keeping your eyes tight on the generator. You need answers, it’s killing you, munching on your insides. You deserve to know, and Feng Min provides. “It depends. Usually they down you, hang you on a hook after...” Feng starts and as she goes on, you get a bit too caught up on her words that you almost manage to blow up the gen and your fingers with it. “You can… take it for a few minutes…” She lowers her voice, like afraid to finish what she had started. “We’ll save you though, I promise.” “And if not?” You ask and demand, letting go of the generator, staring at Feng with piercing eyes. “Feng?” She’s fixing the gen, trying to avoid your gaze, dodging your question, while you in turn grow impatient, angrier, terrified, hear the heartbeat, the rushing blood, vision blurrier, knuckles turning white. “Feng, what happens then?” “You die…” Feng reveals with an exhale, ready to explain herself more, but you pretty much stopped listening after hearing the first part. “We’re not going to let that happen! We promised! And it’s not like you… actually…” Die? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Holding your temples and then getting up from the floor, you decide to kick the generator. It hurts your foot, and you loudly curse. This isn’t what you signed up for ­­– funny, like this is what you wanted anyway. You didn’t agree to any of this, you were forced. But so were the others; in your state you forget about it. There’s a series of unfortunate thoughts racing in your head as you escape the shack. You can hear Feng calling out to you, begging you to come back. Your steps turn into a run and your headache gets ten times worse. You’re asking to yourself why no one told you the truth earlier? Why wait? Do they want you to die, to fail, to suffer? Your so-called friends? Is it even possible, heck, legal even, to die twice? Because what kind of sick joke is this? Let it out. Good. That’s my good girl. You scream when a piercing pain slashes through your body causing agony so great that it makes your vision go completely black for seconds. When you’re able, you’re hesitant to look down where it hurts. And it’s not like you’re afraid of little blood, but this, the sight of you, makes you want to vomit. You’ve stepped into a bear trap, same kind as the one from before, those that Feng told you to not to step in. But why is it here, in the middle of nowhere? The trap before was in plain sight, but this one is hidden in some fucking grass. You hear a heartbeat again, your own you suppose. You crouch down, try to pull the traps mouth open in an attempt to free yourself from its grasp. Breathing hard, whimpering, and sobbing with every attempt as the claws only seem to bite your ankle more and more. It’s pretty clear that it’s latched onto your bone. You’re bleeding onto the rusty metal, making it slippery, harder to get out of.

Bet there’s a hidden camera somewhere and a filming crew hiding behind the brick wall on your right. Watching as you finally to lose it, your precious sanity. Then, after the climax, those greedy little piggies would crawl out of their little hiding spot with thirsty, curious eyes, laughing and snorting. They’d push your buttons a little more but then realizing that you’re gone, absolutely beyond saving, they’d slaughter you, let you out of your misery like a sick farm animal. They’d enjoy that, you know that for sure. Hang you onto that tree over there, with the other pigs, and slice your throat, watch as blood flows from your neck. Sick fucks. “Shit, shit, fuck.” You keep cursing, nothing seeming to help. You start pulling your leg out of the trap, but it only causes more damage. Nearly fainting from nausea, experiencing how your skin and flesh gets tourn open, even some bone peeks from the wound. Like that wasn’t enough, as you look around desperate for some help, you notice the horrific, masked man from earlier heading towards you. You look like a deer in headlights. Your heart sinks, skin going pale. Pulling your leg in panic like a wounded animal, not caring how much it hurt, how much damage it’s doing. Only knowing that you need to get out, need to survive, need to live. “Please, please, don’t.” You whisper, beg. Holy shit, begging for your life? A low point for you, but honestly, you don’t give a fuck anymore. You’re not dying twice. No, no, no more. Please. A blade sinks to the side of your chest, and you fall to the ground with a yelp. Your lower lip is shaking, as if you were to say something but nothing comes out. You don’t believe it; the situation you’re in, it doesn’t seem real. Where the fuck are you? Who is doing this? Why? The man, that abomination takes you by the waist and places you onto his shoulder. He starts walking and you feel seasick from the movement and the loss of blood. It doesn’t even cross your mind to wiggle, attempt to struggle, but maybe you should. He seems to be walking forever; you have enough time to wonder where he’s taking you. Then, you get reminded. A meat hook pierces your shoulder, and you can’t help but to scream in pain again. You’re grabbing the hook, trying to pull yourself up and out, trying to get away from the pain that is taking over your body. Looking down, you see something unnatural slowly creeping up, trying to reach you. You can’t breathe. You’re choking. Enough, enough, you keep repeating.

You don’t know how much time has passed, but way too much for your comfort, when you notice Dwight running up to you, grabbing you and helping you off the hook. He notices how frightened you are and so makes a choice to not wait for your consent and reaction, just quickly grabs your hand and drags you to the corner of the corn field. “I remember my first time. I know how you’re feeling.” Dwight starts, stopping by one of the plank walls. You stand there, staring at the rotting wall this, plank, empty look on your face and perhaps just stare right through it. The corner of your eye twitches, eyes dry. “I really am sorry. Promise we’ll explain all of this.” Dwight continues, now starting to patch up your wounds with some ban-aids. You stay quiet, not ready to talk about it yet. You just want to get this over with, wishing Dwight to take the hint and stay quiet. You find yourself missing the campfire. Anything over this. “There is one generator left before we can open the exit gates, you should go stand by one. Open it as soon as you can, we’ll be fine.” Dwight continues, and as he goes on, you’re starting to feel a little bad for being so angry, visibly upset. Dwight seems to understand, judging by how sweet and calm he is about it. But still, the stinging betrayal keeps nesting in your chest. You nod, perhaps as a thank you. You go stand by an exit gate like you were told to and soon enough you hear the last gen pop, remembering your simple, given job, so you pull the rusty lever and start powering up the gate. It’s taking surprisingly long. Looking behind your shoulder, in the distance you notice the others heading towards you. Feng is holding her stomach and limping, bleeding all over herself. Suddenly you’re pulling the lever harder. It makes a loud sound and pops open. The masked man is closing distance between the group and the exit gates, managing to hit Dwight’s shoulder. You yelp in distress and take a step forward. And even though you’re hurt physically, but mentally too, you feel the need to help your friends, agreeing to the tiny voice in your head screaming fuck it. You refuse to stand there and watch as the others were being chased and slaughtered by a ruthless killer. You can’t explain the feeling, it’s like you’re getting possessed by something, by someone, when suddenly against your every instinct you find yourself running towards the group, straight to the killer who had mercilessly sliced you open earlier. You run past Dwight who’s bleeding, meeting his worried eyes with your own glimmering ones, with this new shine in them letting the others know that you’d be fine. The killer swings his weapon at you, but you quickly crouch and dodge it, almost like predicting his movement. No idea what you’re doing, or how, your move surprises the other. You take the two seconds you’re given afterwards to run back to your teammates, who are waiting for you at the gate, looking real confused. You run out of the gates together, all four of you, hurt, but alive. ­––––––––––– “What was that? Wow. You gotta teach me that.” Feng starts with a wide smile on her face. She’s glowing. You stare at the group, realizing that you’re all back and standing at the campfire. No longer in pain, all injuries, and clothes magically fixed, like it had never happened. All but a bad dream. “I can’t remember the last time someone survived their first trial. That was insane.” Dwight sounds proud and taps your shoulder, proud.

“Trapper’s no match to you.” Jake laughs. They’re trying to celebrate, you realize. Make you feel better. Perhaps trying to distract you from the fact how they lied? Maybe not lied but left out some extremely critical information. And it’s very much still bothering you. “Hey, stop.” You start, stepping further away from the others, hands straightened in front of your chest, body language signaling not to come any closer. “You don’t get to celebrate. What the fuck was that?” You start, pointing your finger up when Dwight tries to open his mouth. Claudette and Kate are walking closer, but you don’t even wish to look at them in the eye. “You lied to me. No one didn’t think to mention the chopping, slicing, hooking and killing part? No one?” You make your feelings clear, and you’d like to think it’s understandable. Claudette is still walking closer. You start backing away.

“She didn’t let us.” Claudette says, stops and crosses her arms over her torso. The smiles on your teammate’s faces are long gone. The air feels instantly colder, hostile even. There is this odd feeling, like someone’s staring you from behind, following, observing in the dark. “She feeds off fear. We were not allowed to tell you. Please trust us. We mean no harm.” Dwight joins Claudette. “We are so sorry, truly.” Everyone gathers to sit by the fire. Each and every one having something to say. Everyone, together, slowly and fully explaining everything there is to know. You allow it and listen in silence. You no longer feel like crying. You’re just angry: at Her. –––––––––––––––––– You do more trials, every time doing better, getting faster, smarter, learning the different kind of killers. You grow to dislike going against Wraith and Spirit. Some trials are bad, but in balance, some are good. You get hooked, sometimes you don’t. You’d never forget about the first time She took you. You find comfort coming back to the campfire and hanging out with the others. It’s your light, the spark of hope in the dark. Sometimes, you even have… fun.

Life, if that’s what you can call it, are almost bearable. The passing days, sleepless nights. Perhaps it’s because you don’t have any other choice but obey Her. On survival mode, believing that one day you’d be free. Guess you’re that naïve after all. So, when you see him, you don’t know what to think, what to do. He sees you. You see him. He stares at you; you stare back at him. You know that it’s him behind the mask. He knows too. Your original killer. Life seems to turn upside down. You had thought that things were bad before, full heartedly believing that it couldn’t get any worse. So, living in what now felt like a lie, it didn’t even cross your mind that he could be here too. You feel stupid. Sick games.

#danny johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #danny johnson #dead by daylight #dbd #ghostface x you #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x reader #jed olsen #fanfic #dbd ghostface #ghostface

[floripire]

the one with the green knight.

"the lower school is finger painting, this is where i belong." pedro says it with such conviction as he cracks his knuckles that floribeth has to turn away and hide her giggle-snort behind her hand. pedro is tiny. really and truly. genuinely so. there would have to be seven pedro's stacked atop each other to be able to get the sword from the stone.

(and, wow, what a world she lives in. floribeth never once realized there would come a time where this would be her new normal.)

luckily, jed speaks up and takes the attention off of the kid because the thought of pedro getting anywhere near the lady of the lake for any reason at all is sickening.

"well, you came to the right place, lady, 'cause killing monsters is kinda what we do."

right there, in the space between breaths and heartbeats, floribeth meets jed's eyes. she wants to tell him to be careful. but the moment passes and shatters into a thousand pieces when alyssa voices something that floribeth can't help but agree with: "that's so hot."

"you're damn right it is. i'm gonna recycle this tin can."

the low timbre of his voice soothes her nerves as much as it ignites her and floribeth is not alyssa's biggest fan and never wants to hear her say something like that ever again because this makes it tougher to keep her fangs to herself. but she's right. alyssa is right. it is hot.

and dangerous.

very, very dangerous.

his eyes blaze gold and he growls - and floribeth's stomach does flips and then a cartwheel just to make the point clear - and takes off like a shot.

jed lunges, then, at the green knight who bats him away like a fly.

floribeth gasps as jed crashes to the ground, his face marred with cuts and bumps, bruises, dirt and filth. there is so much blood. it's almost dizzying. and the lady of the lake speaks again but floribeth can't hear her over the rushing in her ears and the panicked beating of her own heart.

wordlessly, she speeds over and helps him up and if her touch lingers longer than necessary, well, that's because this is a stressful situation. and because she needs to feel his heartbeat underneath her palm to tell her that yes, he's okay, he's alive.

the only thing that's bruised is his ego. probably. potentially. hopefully. she makes a mental note to drag him to the school healers afterwards. just in case.

"you tried and that's what matters. now it's my turn to try something, okay?" floribeth whispers to him, and he nods.

she turns away from jed and walks towards the green knight with her hands raised. "my name is flori," she says when she gets close enough, "i know you can hear me and i know you don't really want to hurt anybody. you don't have to do that anymore. you don't have to listen to her anymore. gawain, please---"

at the mention of his name, the green knight stops moving. floribeth whispers his name again and it sounds like she's addressing a lover. the armor cracks and opens up. in it, there is a boy about her own age. fair skinned. green eyes. he pitches forward and floribeth catches him before he can hit the ground.

she cradles him ever so softly as she lowers him to the ground. "florie?" his voice is raspy and she nods. "it's okay. it's okay, you can rest now. you did good. we can take it from here."

later, floribeth will open up about gawain's final memory. but for now, gawain breathes his last with a peaceful sigh and for a minute, floribeth thinks it's over, but then lizzie's scream pierces the air because the armor is reassembling itself.

of course it is.

loren and mia jump into action immediately.

"no! i can't leave him like this!" floribeth shrieks, almost hysterical, as loren and mia drag her away. "we can't leave him like this!"

but the armor's done with reassembling itself. it is already moving again, as if pushed around by an invisible hand or someone's final command. as if compelled to finish the task it was given: get to excalibur or die trying.

"there is nothing you can do for him now," josie's voice reaches floribeth's ears once she's been dragged to safety. "he's already gone."

it's rafael, who is now holding the sword; it's rafael who finishes the job.

the lady of the lake instantly dissipates, leaving nothing but a puddle of water behind where she once stood.

the ride back to the school is silent. well, mostly. the boys seem awfully excited about rafael being a descendant of the once and future king.

the next day, floribeth wears black.

#long post / #floribeth dalisay / drabbles. #//i wanted flori to have her moment but i also didn't want to take raf's moment away from him #queue.

[recycledchicken]

A Historic Moment in Gaming (Chapter 2)

Part 1 / Part 2 (You are here!) / Part 3 

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/40814790/chapters/102965613#workskin)

Summary: The museum is restless and the exhibits have gone stir crazy. Larry Daley can only think of one solution; buy a Wii.

A buzz had spread across the museum.    

No, I am not referring to that one time where a hive was discovered in the Western Diorama and the miniature cowboys attempted to tame the swarm as if they were flying fuzzy horses.

I guess you can say they weren't very friendly neigh-buzz.

Neither am I talking about the time where a fire-drill happened and most of the exhibits treated the buzzing alarm as the end of the world.  

Since the night of Larry’s break-down, rumours had spread from exhibit to exhibit; they all knew he had come up with some sort of solution to stop everyone causing anarchy around the museum, but what the solution was they didn’t know.  

So, when Larry emerged from the security office carrying a large brown box, his closest friends were eagerly waiting for him at the front desk.  

“What have you got in that there box, sonny?” Theodore Roosevelt asked. He was standing next to Sacajawea, their hands interlocked.  

Larry momentarily frowned. Two wax figures could find love, but he couldn’t?  

“Well,” Larry shook off his divorced-dad mentality and slipped into his previous salesman identity that he had used during his television appearances.

“It is something that is going to change your life.” he grinned.

Sacajawea’s eyes widened. “Is it new clothes so we don’t have to wear the same thing every night?” she asked hopefully.  

Larry’s grin faltered for a split second. “Uh, no.”  

Octavius padded to the edge of the information desk and stared up. “You have discovered a new tablet that allows us to roam around during the day?”  

“Still no.” Larry’s smile had become forced. When he saw Teddy about to open his mouth, Larry quickly interrupted him.

“But!” he shouted a little too brash. Teddy shut his mouth, slightly offended.  

Larry internally sighed. He didn’t want to disappoint them even more. Besides, the Wii would still impress them, right? You could play ‘Animal Crossing’ and ‘Kirby’s Adventure’ on that thing. Or so he was told. Nicky was more of a gamer than him. Although, not to toot his own horn or anything, but Larry was the Wii Sports Tennis Champion of the family.

Well, that was a self-proclaimed title.

Larry added some enthusiasm to his voice as he lowered the box onto the desk.  

“It's actually a-”  

“Woah there, Gigantor!”    

Larry swiftly lifted the box back into the air. Under the shadow of the box, Jedediah stood protectively in front of Octavius. His hands threateningly hovered over his gun holders.

“Watch where you’re puttin’ stuff!” the cowboy miniature hollered. “You nearly flattened Octavius.”

He paused before adding. “And me.”  

Larry put the box onto the floor and then held up his hands. “Sorry, Jed. Didn't, uh, see you there.”  

“That's what all you big people say!” Jedediah huffed and pointed a gloved finger.  “And what do you need a box for, anyhow? I was promised humiliation at his finest!”

“Humiliation?” Larry asked. He blinked and looked around. No one else seemed surprised at what was just said.  

“Uh, okay. Well,” Larry said. “I don’t know who promised you that. But you’re in for a surprise, because inside that box is a-”

Octavius smirked and nudged Jedediah. “Doesn’t he mean, ‘Urine’ for a surprise?”  

“Whoo!” the two miniatures laughed and high-fived each other.  

“Phew, awh’ man,” Jedediah wiped a tear from his eye. “Sometimes it scares me, y’know? - How much ofa’ comedic genius I am.”

Octavius leaned towards him. “But that was my joke.” Jedediah waved a dismissive hand.

“Yeah, well, we’re a team. All your ideas are technically mine.”

Larry raised his hands in desperation. “What is going on?”

“Oh! Oh!” Jedediah whispered loudly to Octavius. “Bet he’s going to do it into the box!” They both giggled like high-school bullies. Larry looked around for an explanation, but none was offered.

“Does anyone want to, I don’t know, kindly explain what is going on? Is this some sort of funny inside joke? A little inside joke that the nightguard isn’t allowed to know?” Larry asked.

“Why,” Ahkmenrah said calmly, pouting his lip and glancing at the ceiling. “I merely said to everyone you were going to present your ‘Wii’ to us.”

“And you explained what a Wii is, right?” Larry interrogated. Ahkmenrah couldn’t meet his eye.

“You explained what a Wii is, right?” Larry repeated in a strained, panicked voice. His mouth was agape. He thought Ahkmenrah was a good-hearted prince. But despite 4,000 years to become wise he had not lost his teenage immaturity.

Oh, Larry would not forget this.

Before Larry could explain himself, Teddy unhooked his arm from Sacajawea and stepped forward.  

“I, for one, find your decision most brave, Lawrence.” He placed a hand on Larry’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Back in my day, to show my authority, I would hunt and kill the most dangerous animals I could find.”  

He shook his head and chuckled softly. “But I never would’ve had the confidence to relieve myself in front of an audience to affirm my leadership.”  

“Thanks, Teddy, but I'm not-”  

The president had already made his way back to his partner. Sacajawea slipped her hand back into his. He put his mouth to her ear.  

“Must be a modern thing.” he whispered.

“Or maybe he’s finally snapped. People cope with stress in strange ways. And he’s been under a lot of stress.” she whispered back. They both looked at Larry with similar sympathetic expressions. Larry felt a vein bulge on his forehead.  

He took a deep breath, held for five seconds and then let out a slow, loud sigh.    

This was a technique he and Ahkmenrah had taught the Huns and Civil War Mannequins in an attempt to subdue their anger and decrease fights. The Mannequins may not have mouths, but it was the thought that counted. Actually, it greatly distressed them and made them even worse. Larry theorised it was because they realised, they couldn’t breathe. Or talk. Or scream. Even theorising didn’t help the situation as the topic of screaming sent Ahkmenrah into a tizzy.  

Speaking of Huns, Atilla was stood next to Ahkmenrah, watching the amusing situation play out. Lately, he had been very adamant on leaning the English language and would only nudge the pharaoh when he struggled to understand what had just been said. His warrior pride made him a more independent learner.      

“Well, there has been a... misunderstanding.” Larry swallowed. “But what's in here is going to change your-... It's going to stop you guys stop making a mess of the museum.”  

Atilla placed Jedediah and Octavius on each of his shoulders. Larry put the box onto the desk.

Larry let a few seconds go by to build up suspense. This was a technique he used to help sell his inventions when he-  

“Oh, good God, man!” Octavius shouted out impatiently. “Open it up already!”

Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed writing this!

#night at the museum #fanfic #larry daley #natm octavius #ahkmenrah #natm sacagawea #natm jedediah #natm teddy roosevelt #natm

[lunaticus-platina]

It is merry chrysler. I mean crisis. I mean Santa day. The day that makes ya stressed because capitalistic marketing says you gotta buy stuff to give and people start doing charities that they forgot to do for the whole year. Also it makes ya sentimental. Why not write something about Christmas then hahaha.

Travis Hackett x oc where they share Christmas headache and some melancholy that follows it.

Christmas with BK is a chaos. To put it mildy.

Travis being a man he is, he chooses to try and be somewhat present at his own Family's dreadful Christmas. Not that he had that much chance to stray far from North Kill in the first place, but no excuse is enough to bail out of family holidays. Even when there is no longer his mother there to enforce it.

About two weeks prior, however, BK mentions the family dinner he had to attend on 18th, and says his family rarely celebrates any holidays together, so they all decided to have the annual family gathering a little closer to Christmas this time.

Brief shock on Travis' face from the invitation must've been poorly masked, because BK's rare, sheepish side is suddenly searching for words to explain that usually they all bring friends or co-workers to make the party merrier.

"Forget I said anything." He says, now feeling stupid to bring it up at all. "Things are gonna get hectic anyway, always do. No need to-"

But here's the thing. Travis has never been invited to Christmas parties before. His Family's doesn't count, and him having been a hardass cop most of his life didn't help either. Seeing the former hunter this nervous is refreshing too, so he says, "No, no. I'll....think about it."

That was his first mistake.

There's smoke pouring out of the kitchen. For some godforsaken reason the smoke detector is not going haywire, and a man in the corner tossing darts won't stop looking at him intently whenever their eyes meet.

BK's youngest brother has 3 kids, expecting one more. "Where's our preeeesentssssss" "Uncle Renny, who's that?" "Yeah! Is he your boyfriend???" All three erupt into giggle feat. The room's too warm for Travis and BK's busy explaining that T is his friend.

The kids ooh and next thing he knows, they are all running around screaming, 'We have a new uncle'. The smoke is still coming out of kitchen, only this time there is added exclamation from BK. "How the fuck did you burn water???" Some people at the table are discussing about different versions of death gamble around the world, a guy catching a falling kid from the Christmas tree, a red haired woman sneaking a jar of candy canes out of the room and accidentally dropping it, etc.

Headache only grows. Until it stops.

Once a woman with salt n pepper hair and steely eyes enters the room, everyone falls silent. Only when the kids zoom towards her shouting, "Nana!" does he understand that this is BK's mother. He marvels at the way she takes control of the situation, assigning everyone to their roles and places like a commanding officer. Despite his concern, the handshake and knowing look from her are approving enough. And that is all of their exchange. Although the kids keep asking her if 'uncle trav is joining them', which makes his ears burn.

BK's in the kitchen stirring pans here and there, seasoning and cutting like he's worked there all his life. Travis helps where he can. Dinner's twice more pleasant with everyone seated and not causing a ruckus. When T heads out the door, it's with full stomach, full hands, and full heart, though his head is light with alcohol and contentment. He'll later grimace at the ugly Christmas sweater in the unwrapped box, but the card still makes him smile.

Christmas arrives. It could be worse, to put it simply.

Kaylee decided to spend her first curse-free Christmas at the party with her friends. College life is doing good for the kid, Travis thinks. He doesn't know if the relief he feels from his mother's absence makes him a piece of shit. Then again, he's always been a failure to her. Jed doesn't comment on BK being there. In fact, he doesn't acknowledge his presence at all. Small mercy, he guesses. Last thing Travis wants is violence on a goddamn Christmas.

Bobby helped with the decorations around the house, laughing like a child on, well, on Christmas morning. Chris and Caleb set the table, Travis is cooking, until they all hear shouting from another room.

Jed standing with heaving chest. BK wiping his busted lip. There's blood on the old man's knuckles. "You ain't get to walk around this house like you own it boy! I'll make sure you go to hell for what ya did!"

BK looks slightly inconvenienced, licking at his newly acquired wound. "First of all, I was invited. Second. She got herself killed by not listening to me. Ain't my fault she dug her grave and jumped right in."

"You sonova-" Chris drags his father out of the room before the second blow connects. Caleb gives him a long look and quietly leaves. Travis grits his teeth. But the anger that bubbles to surface pops and simmers down when BK quietly mutters his apology. It's not like they all didn't do unforgivable things in the name of survival.

She couldn't be saved. He still doubts if his family even deserved to be saved, but that thought is for another drunken night.

Dinner's short and tense. Jed leaves first. When Caleb gets up to leave, BK hands him a small box wrapped in green ribbon. When Travis sees Caleb smile, he lets go of a piece of burden that suffocated him for the whole evening.

BK and the Hackett brothers head to a bar. To enjoy the holiday for once, it's a nice change. There's laughter. Chris wistfully mentions how his little girl is all grown up and away from the nest. Wishes his wife was there to celebrate with. Travis remembers the night his brother wailed like never before, repeating over and over again 'How am I supposed to do this without you?' That's why he needed to be here. With family. They needed him. Even before the curse. Even before he got his job. He looks at the glass and ponders. Some more talk happens. Chris and Bobby head home.

Two remaining men head to T's place, the half empty whiskey bottle stands between the two. It's late. It's snowing. TV volume is at the lowest, some cheesy Christmas Rom-com playing.

Travis' pondering(sulking) is interrupted when a small grey box enters his view. BK answers his confusion with 'merry Christmas'.

"But you already gave me a present."

"That was obviously a joke. Your reaction was worth it though. Why didn't you wear it by the way? Don't like sweaters?"

Travis deadpans. "In that case, I have something to give you as well." He says instead.

BK is smug, clearly already imagining Travis in that monstrosity. "Aw, you didn't have to." He gratefully takes the present.

In the carefully wrapped brown box is a...an earbud?

No. It's a hearing aid.

BK stares at it for a moment. Travis rambles on nervously. "You said the one you have is broken. Kaylee helped me look up things but there wasn't much to choose, some were too big, some were just plain garbages, then I thought maybe it could be something you need. Kaylee said it could work like those airpods she has, and you are always listening to that radio, so I thought-"

"Wait, wait." BK shakes out of whatever thought he was in. "Are you saying this has bluetooth?"

"Yes."

There's that stare again. This time aimed straight at Travis. It's making his palms sweat.

"Travis. How much did you spend on this."

"Not too much."

BK looks at the box again. "Fucking Christ." He looks at Travis. "It's rechargeable. Got the case and all. Pretty sure I know this brand. How much did you spend on this Travis." He sounds incredulous.

"Look it doesn't matter okay? It's for your ear, what use is it if it's crap?"

"It's not like I'm completely deaf. Didn't have to bother getting a good one when I can survive without it. But..." BK purses his lips, lowering his gaze. There's gentle sadness in his eyes. A strange sight. When he speaks again, it's barely above a whisper. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you. Not often I get any gifts, let alone something this thoughtful."

All Travis can do is mumbling 'you're welcome' and start unwrapping his gift. It's a tiny, long and silvery whistle. On the sides there are intricate patterns adorning them. It's attached to a chain, and the whistle itself is beautiful enough to make it look like a jewelry. He arches a brow.

"Go on. Blow it." BK says. And Travis does just that, but the whistle is silent.

Travis isn't sure if this is another joke. "You gave me a...dog whistle?"

BK bursts into laughter. "Not exactly. It's a magic whistle."

"Magic." Travis repeats, unimpressed.

"Yes. And as you've seen before, it's very real. You see, that whistle's enchanted, so when you blow no one can hear it...... But I can."

BK smirks. "I'll tell you how it works later. But for now, all you need to know is I can hear that sound even from the other side of the earth. You blow it, I come and help you out when yer in a pickle. Consider it a thank you for saving my life."

Travis smooths his thumb over the patterns, thinking of the night when it all ended. "You helped me first."

"It's my job." BK shrugs. He knows what the man is thinking. At least the main bits. His ma, his life, his family, etc. Maybe the earlier shit with his dad.

"I saw you wincing."

There it is. BK only looks.

"Earlier. When we were drinking."

"It's just a small tear. It'll heal."

"I'm sorry that he did that."

"Not your fault."

Two are silent.

This time it's BK that mutters out. "I'm sorry about your mother."

Travis grunts.

They empty the whole bottle. BK tries to sneak out but Travis is not having it. He also wouldn't have let BK take the couch if he wasn't already collapsed on it like a log. So instead he heads to bed. When he turns he hears BK say 'Merry Christmas Travis', muffled against the couch. 'Merry Christmas Brennen', he replies, and there's warmth to it.

Travis crumbles on the inviting bed. It's warm, the whiskey boils in him. His chest is warm too, not hollow and chilled like many other nights. All in all, this Christmas wasn't too bad, he thinks, looking at the glittering whistle on the nightstand.

#the quarry #travis hackett #sheriff hackett #officer hackett #travis hackett x oc #original character #my writing #oc bk #oc code: lumber #christmas fic I guess #everyone: oooooh christmas!!!! #Travis: Fuck. #big mood big guy big mood #travis hackett and how to survive family holidays #how do two depressed dudes spend Christmas? drinking and gift exchanging ofc #discussing feelings? what feelings. gifts given. enough said. #no more lonely stressed out christmas travis #only somewhat tolerable and I-can-live-with-this type of christmas travis