dandelion-delusion

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“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

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Reblog if you have not been booped yet

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Couldn't relate more

I’m sorry to say this but…I’m a silent reader!!! IM SORRY!!! I know it’s bad, it’s one of the reasons I don’t write a lot! But I don’t interact beyond likes because I don’t want to be a bother and I’m scared of interacting on here.

I’m sorry, I’m learning to do better, I bow to all the people I follow and I just want you to know I appreciate what you have done and your contributions to this app greatly. I love you all dearly, I just don’t know how to show it beyond a like.

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Grover: True strength is forgiving a person who wasn’t even sorry

Percy: Not to be dramatic but I would literally rather die

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I hate it, I hate the fact that I can't share my pain, or feelings, or tears with anyone. Knowing how my parents cause each other pain has restrained me from sharing any of my pain. The burrden of knowlage heavy on my mind. They shouldn't have told such things to me, their child, yet they did and continue to do.

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To Be a Tree

I am a tree, forever reaching for the moon. Each pair of my limbs a fragment of time, a memory of when I needed it most, yet could not reach. Still, I am incapable of attaining her.

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Blind Eye

Carl: *Simply cleaning his knife before he goes on a run*

Carl: *Turns to get up* Holy Fuck Y/n!

Y/n: * Y/n crouching with her face close to Carls right eye cause she knows he can't see her* hi

Carl: You've got to stop doing that, jesus christ *walks out of the room*

Y/n: *following him out on his right side cause he can't see her*

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“this is a bad idea. stand up.” “…i can’t” “percy, stand up, i mean it!” “it’s okay. i’m okay. i’m okay. i’m okay. i’m-“ the tears in HIS eyes, the tears in HER eyes, the tears in MY EYES?!!??!!?

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There’s some Hunger Games AU fics where Peeta is from the Seam and Katniss is a Merchant and I so desperately want to make this a fic but it’ll never happen because I’ve got one braincell left —

If Katniss was born a Mellark, the youngest of three children, l fully believe Mr. Mellark and Peeta’s brothers would have loved her so god damn much. She’s the favorite no doubt. Bannock (that’s the name I headcanon for the oldest child) is keeping boys back with a baseball bat, and Rye (middle child of the Mellark household) is reading any guy who even looks at Katniss wrong to filth.

I think Mrs. Mellark would have this sort of love-hate relationship with her. I feel like a reason she was so bitter is because she wanted a girl, but she got three boys. So Katniss is a miracle for her, and she lovingly calls her ‘Kit’ and dotes on her—but also there are these really ugly moments where Katniss reminds her of the girl she used to be, and she has all this potential to be anything she wants, and Mrs. Mellark is just overcome with rage.

She always cuddles Katniss afterwards and tells her she loves her and she’s sorry when she realizes what she did, but it’s not enough. It always happens when they’re alone too, which just makes it that much more sinister when Katniss realizes her mom never has these outbursts when she’s with her dad or one of her brothers. I think despite the gender dynamic, everyone in the household realizes this isn’t normal, but no one says anything. Afterwards though, they bring her salve or a cookie they smuggled from the bakery. Bannock will wrap her wounds and Rye will tell her dirty jokes and she smiles, it’s not a lot but this feels like enough.

Peeta’s now Peeta Everdeen, Mr. Everdeen died in the mines and he’s been raising his little sister Prim ever since. I think he’s a little easier on his mom since he can relate a bit to the effect love can have on a person, and it’s scary but he’s emotionally strong enough to keep himself open to the opportunity.

I think it’s Peeta’s kindness that opens Mrs. Everdeen’s eyes to the situation, and they get their makeshift apothecary.

Peeta sucks at hunting, he relies on his friend Gale for that, but he’s great at gathering and he sells a gallon of blueberries to the baker who’s daughter, the prettiest girl in school (not that he’s noticed or anything), really likes.

Only this time she answers the door herself, and she tilts her head at the berries he presents her with a blushing face.

“Those aren’t blue berries,” she says and he flushes even harder.

“I-oh sorry, um, I can—”

“I’ll take them,” she says, paying him after she ushers him inside and forces him to wash his hands three times, personally inspecting both his hands and nails after he’s done.

“Thank you.”

The door slams close, and he’s left in a daze wondering what just happened.

The next week the bakers wife is dead.

And suddenly all the pieces fall into place, the way his father used to warn him about certain berries in the woods. Her insistence that he wash his hands. The way sometimes Katniss would wear long sleeves in summer, and when her shirt rode up he could see black bruises on her body.

Their eyes meet in the hallway, and she nods. He nods back, and they go their separate ways.

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Why aren’t there more walking dead fics. I don’t want rick waking up from his coma and starting all over again. I want Prison era fics spanning the time after season 3 and before season 4. Where they figure their shit out, all domestic and shit. Very much like the 2012 era Avengers towers fics. Is that too much to ask?????

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Mute Pt.1

I've been with Rick's group since the run to the city when they met Rick and I, we had been in the same hospital room, he'd gotten shot and I had damaged my vocal cords. Together we met a man named Morgan and his son Duane. They informed us about the state of the world and how to keep ourselves safe from the dead roaming the streets. 

Even if these people had kept me alive and taught me many valuable skills, I wanted them to stop talking to me about anything and everything. If I was able to speak I would most likely tell them to shut up. 

I was helping Lori with the collecting eggs from the chicken coop as she ranted about her life. She shed tears that had been suppressed by the pressure of surviving in this world. I could visibly see the sweat seeping through her skin and her eyes screaming for help, but I can't give it to her, I can't speak. How could she talk to me like she's speaking to a therapist only to have no response? How come she doesn't talk to the man she married? "I hate not knowing," She stated, without giving context, then vomited in an empty bucket on the coop's floor. "No need to worry over that, I can rinse it out later, just the morning sickness," Lori noted. That must be what she meant by "I hate not knowing"?

Once Lori's therapy, and my torture, ended I headed over to the Greene house for a checkup Hershel promised me. I sat down on the bed in a guest room as he looked me over for any major injuries. He sat beside me on the bed and asked me basic "yes" or "no" questions to which I nodded "yes" or "no". "Have you ever been able to speak?" he questioned. I nod and he continued with the questions. "Y/n, does it hurt to use your voice?" I nodded and he excused himself. The Greene's never ranted or tried too hard to keep me in the conversation, but they never made me feel like I wasn't there like the rest of the group did.

After learning that Hershel could only hope that I could get my voice back by adjusting to using it again, I headed to the R.V to clean the guns. I looked up to see Shane stomping in, cursing out Rick quite freely. Eventually he realized he wasn't alone and a look of panic flashed across his face. He looked up to identify the person, and once recognized me, rolled his eyes and continued his rant to himself aloud. He couldn't care less about what he said around me, I wouldn't be able to repeat it to someone else.

Above me, on the roof of the R.V sat Dale, keeping watch. I joined him after finishing with the guns, leaving Shane to talk as he was. A sigh escaped Dale's lips before speaking."There has been no activity all day, you sure it's worth spending your free time up here with me?" I Nodded my head, not bothering to check if he saw it or not.

 I didn't come up here to spend time with him, I came up here to enjoy the silence, glad to be a part of it. This is where I went to escape the headache that this group gave me. I felt like when I was up this high up I didn't need to be able to communicate, I was just me, as I was before. myself. The group didn't know me, I was just some girl who was capable of pulling through, incapable of simple speech. To them I was a Nobody.

When I could see the stars in the sky, long after Dale had left for bed I attempted to use my voice. It hurt, like the knife was tearing through my throat all over again, and the sound that I forced out wasn't right. At first I thought there was a walker out here with me, in the dark. It had been so long since I had made a sound that I forgot how it sounded to hear a noise of my own, instead of words from every person who wasn't me.

#twd x teen!reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead x reader #twd x you

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FYI-Season four after the prison fell and everyone got separated

Y/n's p.o.v

There's a new hostage in the Claimers group, his name is Daryl. I say hostage because he doesn't agree with their set of rules, and was obviously disgusted when he realized why I'm still here. It's been months since I uttered even a single word, giving them no reason to recognize me as any kind of threat. They're tracking some guy that killed unfortunately only one of these monsters, this is way too much work for what's-his-face's life. With all the drama of murder I was given an opportunity to swipe a knife without them noticing anything.

The Claimer found me in a warehouse and claimed me two and a half months ago. My group had been caught in a herd the day before, I had been mourning. That's how they got the upper hand, I was sobbing, when they found me I made no verbal attempt to escape so they tied my wrists and dragged me along.

After trudging through the woods for some hours with tight ropes binding my hands together, keeping me tethered to these sick men, them and I end up at a road with a run-down vehicle sitting there along with a trio of survivors huddled around a small flame. One of them is a boy who makes eye contact with me, he continues to look at me as I divert my gaze to the ground. He looks about my age, wonder will The Claimers keep him around? And if so will it be for the same reason as me? My attention is snapped back to the people in front of me as Joe starts talking.

The leader off The Claimer's, Joe, walks up to the survivors spewing threats while dragging the rope attached to my soar arms evidently pulling me. Daryl says something about these randoms being 'good people' and then the boy gets separated from the other two and all hell brakes lose.

In the midst of it all Joe lets go of my rope so I grab the knife from up my sleeve and go to cut the tie. Once free I stand to my feet and see The Claimers losing, I step into the battle and stab the closest Claimer to me. Right in his artery. I have the blood of a monster covering my face, and I have a sense of relief flood over me and I catch my breath, every inhale new, fresh. Free.

The only people left are the trio, Daryl, and I. It has became apparent Daryl knew the people because the guy who ripped out Joe's throat with his teeth called Daryl his brother, and honestly they don't look related to me. Daryl glances at me, still sat against the vehicle "you got a name?" he asked, his voice tired and slightly demanding. With our eyes locked I nod my head. He continues to talk with his relative and I hear him say I remind him of "Beth" and that she got kidnapped.

Until I know that, for certain, I can trust these people I will not speak, they seem to be better than the claimers but you can't just go off the appearance of people anymore. well you could, but that would make you dumb. Sorry, I don't make the rules

They don't have a problem with me tagging along with them, honestly if I where them I wouldn't do that, but to each their own. I have been introduced to the trio, them being Michonne, Carl, and his dad, Rick; they're heading to Terminus, and I'm tagging along.

Carl walks to my left as I rub the bare and bloody wounds on my wrists "stop rubbing your wrists they need to heal," he tells me grabbing my hand. I give him a small nod, still not giving up my facade. Him and I walk in tangent for a good while, holding hands, until we head into the woods. The feeling of his hand in mine felt like what was happening in the world, the world where death was the only motivator, I could be serene. Like someone who would be reading in the back of the library, without a care in the world, someone effortlessly wonderful.

They are hiding their guns in the ground. I keep my blade hidden in the sleeve of my coat as we arrive, for safety reasons only. We decide to show off our trust issues and break into a safe haven. The Terminus people end up being really understanding and lead us to there colony, but not before "checking us for any weapons" which they suck at, by the way, but let us keep them anyway.

As Ricks group, the Terminus people, and I stand in the courtyard Rick looks like he was following a bee with his eyes. Then he jumps onto Gareth, putting a gun up to his head talking about ponchos and stopwatches. Many guns are pointed at my head and it's evident that they no longer trust us, if they ever did. My hands go up, what could I do with my knife? Nothing, I can't do anything, so I keep it tucked in my sleeve. Ricks people pull out their weapons, some don't have a gun, they must really trust Rick, and his instincts.

After that, the others, and I get locked into a train car with more of Rick's people and others they loosely know. I make my way to the wall of the train car and slide down, how much worse can the Terminus people treat me compared to The Claimers?

Carl slides down next to me after hugging a few of the other people. His gaze is turned my way so I turn my head to look his way. His vibrant blue eyes hold my stare. Carl takes my hand in his and asks "how're your wrists?" while turning over my hands his eyes shift from my eyes to my wrists. He ends up asleep with my hand intertwined with his.

Eventually the people of Terminus either died or fled the scene of what used to be a cannibal hot spot. Now it is still that, but most smart people don't trust walkers enough to not eat them.

We're currently huddled up at a church with a total fool who refuses to kill the dead. His name is Gabriel, he's a priest, that's why he refuses to be violent with the flesh eating monsters.

Part two?

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Thank you to everyone who got me to 100 likes!

#100 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

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Incorrect Quotes From The Power-Couple, Carl x y/n

Carl: Pros and cons of dating me. Carl: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Carl: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and- Carl: No returns. Demon: sobbing But it's making me sad…

y/n : I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

y/n : Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

y/n , at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way.

y/n : What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

y/n : I'm usually that person who has no idea what's going on.

Carl: Don't ask me what I'm talking about. I don't know, okay? I'm just the vessel. The message has been gifted. I've moved on.

y/n : If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will

Carl: I hate when people ask me, 'What did you do today?' Buddy listen, I woke up at noon and then it was five p.m., okay? I don't KNOW!

Carl: If the thought of something makes any of you giggle for longer than 15 seconds, you are to assume you’re not allowed to do it.

y/n : I didn’t even realize how sarcastic I was being. It’s starting to become a problem, I think.

Carl: I know what a prism is! It's where you put bad people.

Carl: I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

All quotes from an incorrect quote generator.

#carl grimes #carl x reader #incorrect quotes

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Taming Fear

Teen Wolf x reader x The Avengers

Warnings: mention of needles, trauma

My heart beats faster than usual, not because I've been running all night through the woods, but because I finally got out. Now I just have to stay out, which is easier said than done. They must know that I got out by now. It's only a matter of time until they shoot me with a dart and lock me back up.

When the woods end I don't stop running, I do the opposite and speed up.

I'm pushed backwards and to the ground. The sound of tires screeching and a horn blaring floods my ears. I didn't get up from the cold gravel. The door of the vehicle opening and closing pulls my eyes open.

"Oh my god! She might be dead, no wait, her eyes are open. Should I check for a pulse?" A girl, a teenager probably says to her phone. She leans over me to look at my face and I blink, inspiring her to take a breath of relief.

"She's alive... I know because they blinked and are now staring at me. I'll drive them to the hospital thanks," the girl said and hung up.

She sticks out her hand to help me up and after a moment of deliberation I take it. Once I'm standing she takes a proper look at me and asks,

"What were you running from?"

The way she asks leaves no room of possibility. I had been running from something, she knows. she walk's me to her car and we climb in bet the moment I close the door she leans in and whispers,

"I know it was something, so tell me," She shifts the vehicle into drive and continues into town while I tell her about the thin slices of a life that used to be mine. How that was taken from me and how I was forced to take on the mask of a stoic murder against my will, and stripped of my memories.

The conversation lightened as the drive persisted. Lydia and I chatted idly while pulling into the parking lot of a police station.

"Why are we here?" I question as I step out of Lydia's vehicle.

"Well we're here to report you as a foundation person and try to figure out what to do with you" Lydia answers climbing the station stairs.

#Teen Wolf x reader x The Avengers #avengers x teen!reader #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #Teen wolf x teen!reader #Teen wolf fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers x fem!reader

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#the walking dead #carl grimes #carl grimes fanart

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TWD Carl x reader

In the forest, the air was warm and dewy as I ran for my life; and the scenery was slightly too bright and cold for my stiff body at the moment. Water made its way into my worn out shoes from the many puddles that littered the ground.

I used to dream of this moment like it would be the "happiest ever after," but now that it's happening, I would rather be sitting in the dark cell imagining it all.

-Carl's p.o.v-

My father and I walked through the dense woods scavenging for un-raided buildings or bunnies. The prison was starting off well but had limited food—plus, Mom had eaten much of our rations during her pregnancy, not to mention baby food. Glenn and Maggie are also on a run at the moment, looking for baby supplies, while Dad and I are looking for food and weapons.

The soft crunching of our footsteps were silenced by someone else's. They were running. Fast. Dad and I shared a glance and raised our guns in the noise's direction. The sound of crunching leaves became deafening, probably because it's the only thing I could focus on.

Through the closely packed trees emerged a girl with a sweaty, dirty face and a small satchel across her torso. She stopped in her tracks and, very quickly, put her hands up. "Please, please don't take me back! I don't have an actual reason for you not to, but... please," her voice was surprisingly steady and as calm as it could be, considering the two guns pointed at her face.

Again, I looked to my dad, but he kept his gaze locked on the girl. "Who would we be taking you back to?" he asked, his gun still pointing at her forehead.

"Is this some sort of sick joke? Is this entertaining to you, because if so why don't you call over all the other deranged guys you hide behind?" Her lower lip had begun quivering and her eyes had pooled with tears as she spoke.

My face and neck trained forward, but my eyes shifted from my father to the girl. Dad shaked his gun arm threateningly. "Who would we be taking you back to?" he repeated, more harsh this time.

"Th-the Living, but please, please don't." By now her voice started to shake and she shut her eyes tight. "I won't cause any problems, I promise, I'll do anything I'm asked to, I won't say another word. I've only just escaped! Stop, will you please stop? I'm scared!"

Her voice rang through my head, and I lowered my gun, Dad following suit. Small twigs snapped under my feet as I walked towards her slowly as if she was as skittish as a deer knowing she was scared and tried to come off without threat.

"Hey, we aren't with The Living. We live at a nearby prison; it's really secure. Would you like to come with us?"

Her eyes finally unscrewed when I lightly placed my hand on her shoulder and got a good look into them, noticing the beautiful colours and depth. Stunning. She stared back at me, gradually relaxing. "Wh-who else is at this prison?" she whispered, still very wary of us.

My remaining parent spoke up from behind us. "We have a large group of forty to fifty people, and enough food to feed all of us, including you"—her staggeringly beautiful eyes left mine to look at Dad before she spoke.

"I would like to go with you to your prison." Her voice was pleasant in my ears, but anxiety was still evident in her tone. However, she still had to earn our trust.

"Before we reveal the location of our prison, we have three, only three, questions for you," I said and composed myself, averting my gaze to the surrounding woods.

"Well...what are the questions?" she asked, looking between me and Dad.

"How many walkers have you killed?" my father asked.

"Was I supposed to be keeping count?" she responds.

"How many people have you killed?" I said, ignoring her question and looking back at her.

"Two." The word was spoken without a hint of regret.

And the most important question, by far: "Why?" I asked, holding eye contact.

"I killed them," she paused, her gaze drifting down to the ground, "so I could get away from the Living."

My Dad spoke, once again pulling my watch from her face. "What have they done to you?" Silence passed through the woods like a title wave. By then we had come to the realization, the world really has no hope left.

Dad and I looked at each other and he nodded. I face the girl in front of me and remain quiet for a moment as she plays with the hem of her shirt, unsure at the leaves in front of her shoe. Appearing to catch her by surprise, I stuck my hand out, smiling gently. "I'm Carl" I announce

Hesitantly, she took it, her palm fitting perfectly in mine, and I noticed the warmth. "Y/n," she said, briefly squeezing my hand before letting go, making it extremely hard not to blush.

The three of us made our way through a neighborhood to grab her some clothes before continuing to the prison. Halfway through, we started up a conversation, instantly getting along. She is the most adorable person to walk the earth nowadays, the way she messes with the hems on her clothes when nervous, or how she doesn't notice the cracks in the road and nearly face plants every time we pass one—and it's not like she tries to be, she just is...

I might have a slight crush on a cute girl named Y/n.

#carl grimes #twd fanfiction #twd #twd x reader #twd x teen!reader #twd x you #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n