#but can i bring up motorcycles and deer

[bobwess]

#looking at you misha #you've thought about motorcycles and cars #but can i bring up motorcycles and deer #because oh boy

[jazzyoranges]

Late nights - drabble

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: sorry anon, i accidentally deleted the request 😓 but they asked for me to write a fic with tara in fem!reader’s hoodie (aka cuddly tara strikes again)

Words: 0.9k

A/n: hopefully a lil something to get me out of my writing slump. let’s hope this isn’t too bad considering i haven’t written in a few months 😅

You really didn’t mean to be out for so long

First your boss asks you to do one favor, then another, and next thing you know you’re at work for 4 hours more than you’re supposed to be. The asshole didn’t even pay you for all the extra shit you did! You made a mental note to go job hunting this week.

Maybe the gay club was looking for a stripper? Nah. Your girlfriend would get jealous

So you were angry. Angry about your paycheck

Next a few storm clouds roll up that night. Of course you forget to bring your rain jacket that day. Not to mention, rain feels like hail stones when you’re on your motorcycle. Apparently it’d be a cold day in hell before you dressed right for the weather

So along with being angry, you were cold and wet. Shitty might’ve been the lightest way you could’ve described your day

At least you could come home to your wonderful girlfriend in an apartment of your own. It took lots of convincing and hundreds of game nights to convince Sam to even accept the idea of you and Tara being alone together. Fortunately you were blessed with patience and homosexuality — two things that could withstand Sam’s will to protect her sister

Was the older Carpenter’s place on the floor right above you and Tara’s?

…

Yes. Yes it was.

But if it made your girlfriend and her sister happy, you had no reason to not be as well. Other than the elevator that never fucking worked but that was out of their hands

Your shirt and hair were absolutely soaked in rainwater by the time you reached your apartment door. The was a small trail of water behind you from where you walked but that might’ve been the least of your concerns. Fishing around in your damp pants for your keys, you fortunately find them without much effort

Opening the door with as little energy you can, you lock the door behind you and triple check you locked it just like Sam told you

Not wasting any time you slide off your wet shirt in the middle of your living room, throwing it on a chair and missing the younger Carpenter waiting on the couch for you half asleep

“Baby?” Tara rubs her eyes. You stand in the middle of your hallway like a deer in headlights. You were awfully vulnerable while wet and almost naked. Who knew.

Before you can respond, there’s shuffling behind you then something weighted and warm on your back. Tara’s leaning into you with her arms around your torso while you’re wet and almost naked in the middle of your hallway. What a sight.

“Why were you so late? You’re working tonight…” Your girlfriend’s hand dips a bit below your waistband and you have to resist the urge to shiver. From the cold? From Tara? Only god knew

“My boss had me do extra shit. I’ll find a different job that doesn’t have me out so late” You turn around to face Tara while her arms were still around you “I promise”

The younger Carpenter only hums into your chest without any sign of moving. So you don’t. It gives you the chance to really soak in the moment along with the rainwater on your skin. You only pull away when your girlfriend also starts to shiver

Of course she’s wearing nothing but a hoodie

Specifically, Tara’s wearing nothing but your hoodie

“How long have you been fighting sleep? Go to bed, love” You pick up your girlfriend with her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms loosely thrown around your neck

“Since you decided you hated me” Tara mumbles into your shoulder

“When was that?”

“When you didn’t come home on time”

“And I gave you a reason why I was late”

“Which doesn’t excuse you, because you could’ve hurried up” Tara plays with your bra strap as you stop walking toward your shared bedroom

“What I’m hearing is, you don’t want to take a late night shower with me? Even after a long day of work, where you could help me de-stress?” You say with a certain smugness in your voice

Your girlfriend whips her head up at your offer but you’ve already made it to your shared bed, not wasting a second to plop her down

“Waitbabypleaseididn’tmeanit-“ You’re already in the bathroom as Tara’s trying to scramble to you

“What? Sorry, love! Can’t hear you over the shower”

You had a childhood cat that always followed you around when you were younger. Tara reminded you of when your cat would scratch at the door whenever you went to the bathroom. Your girlfriend even had the scratching down just like your cat

When you were about to hop in the bath for a quick shower, something stops you from getting in. The imagery alone that Tara is probably leaning against the door waiting for you to get out is enough to pull at your heartstrings

You weren’t mean. You missed Tara as much as she missed you. It’s why she always wore your hoodies and you always took her shirts that fit you

So against your better judgment and the water bill you’re going to have to take Advil for, you unlock the bathroom door but you don’t open it

You’re both in the shower and you’re in Tara less than a second later

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #scream 6 #tara carpenter scream #sam carpenter

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Blake: (giving a speech to a bunch of rowdy Faunus activists as new Chieftess of Menagerie and leader of the White Fang) While the past leaders of this organization and kingdom have done their best, I intend to build up on that foundation and make-

Deer!Faunus: Aren't you in a relationship with a human?!

Blake: My relationships do not affect my ability to-

Mouse!Faunus: How can we trust a leader who willingly became a humans pet?!

Faunus Crowd: (start muttering)

Blake: (grumbling mentally as she tries to think of what to say)

Yang: (blares through the crowd on Bumblebee 2.0 with a giant trailer hitched off to the back) Blaaaaaake!

Blake: (sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose) What is it, Yang? I'm a bit busy, and you just plowed through a bunch of Faunus activists.

Yang: (parks and pulls off her helmet) Yeah, sorry about that, but I'm in a pickle. (Hops off the motorcycle and opens up the top hatch of the trailer - revealing hundreds of freshly baked cookies)

Blake: ...........

Faunus Crowd: ...........

Blake: What?

Yang: Nora, Ruby, and I decided to get the Remnant World Record for the number of cookies baked at the same time. We used my semblance to bake, Ruby's semblance to mix, and Nora's sheer crackhead energy to get everything else. But now we have too many cookies!

Blake: ......Nora and Ruby can't just eat them?

Yang: They already ate 3 trailer fulls! (Projects picture of Nora and Ruby in cookie comas) I remembered that you had a public event thing and thought maybe attendees would want some!

Blake: (lightbulb moment) Actually, that would be amazing! Thank you so much, dear, for being so considerate.

Yang: (confused by the diabetic sweetness dripping from Blake’s voice and slowly shuffles up to the podium as a few Faunus that hadn't been assholes go up to the trailer and grab a cookie) Uh, did I do something wrong? I can leave if I'm intruding.

Fox!Faunus: Nope! (Munches cookie) You're good! Thank you, Dear!

Faunus Crowd: Thank you, Dear!

Yang: (severely confused) What just happened?

Blake: (covers her microphone before kissing Yang on the cheek) Apparently, a butch, golden retriever lesbian bringing homemade baked goods is all you need to calm a bloodthirsty crowd.

#bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwby #rwby crack post #domeatic bees #butch lesbian brings home baked goods #butch golden retriever #blake isn't wrong #golden retriever himbos are a pure delight

[the-dixon-effect]

Sweet Interruptions

A/N: thanks so much @matilda4eve for this request which you can find here 💕image creds @Emotionalady on pinterest | i had so much fun writing this and i really hope you guys enjoy because as usual i was up in the earliest hours of the morning writing this 😭

summary: Y/N and Daryl are both secretly pining for each other, and it takes all manner of 'interruptions' to bring them together.

era: season 3-4, prison era

pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

words: 2.3k

warnings: suggestive, Merle being annoying, basically no warnings ^_^

The Georgian wind was hot against your bare shoulders as you stood in the prison yard. It didn't go unnoticed by the other residents how, like always, you appeared lost in your thoughts as you idly gazed at the archer who was working a considerable distance away. Despite having spoken, maybe, two words to Daryl, you were already in deep. You watched his arms flex, those irresistibly tanned biceps contract and relax as if he were a sculptor shaping a beautiful piece of art, when in reality he was simply tweaking his motorcycle. You admired the way his unkempt chocolate hair framed his pretty face, and, when you caught sight of those gorgeous cerulean eyes that seemed invisible to everyone else, it felt enough to just look at him, without needing any attention from him whatsoever. You adored all of him, not just his appearance, and simply from observation you could tell he was a troubled man. How you dreamt of wiping away those tears you knew Daryl hid away somewhere deep inside, reserved for those cold nights spent alone. You dreamt of holding him tight, feeling his big arms wrap around your waist, kissing him anywhere you could reach and-

You were enraptured. And today, it would take some groundbreaking event to drag you from your wild imagination. Just the sight of him working on his bike had you rubbing your thighs together. You loved the way his brows furrowed in concentration, and you couldn't help but imagine him doing other things with those skilled hands.

With blown-out pupils and parted lips, you had lost all sense of where you were and what you might look like gawking at the archer. A forceful hand on your shoulder made you practically jump out of your skin as you took in your surroundings in an instant. You turned your body sharply to face whoever had, somewhat rudely, in your opinion, interrupted your typical daydreams. You recognized the woman and thank God it was a friend, not someone with too many questions about what you were doing, you thought, now considering that your staring might have been a little excessive. It was Maggie, and that familiar Southern drawl reached your ears before you could register the mischievous look she was giving you.

"Aren't ya 'sposed to be workin' out here?" she said, with a very obvious smirk painting the subtle lines on her face. When you realised that she could see straight through you, you decided it was no use denying your little crush any longer. Rubbing your hand on the back of your clammy neck, you spoke quietly, smirking a little yourself.

"It's not like I got something better to do," you said, blushing.

"Well," she began, stringing out the syllable in a playful tone, "you could be helpin' me insteada' standin' out here like a deer in headlights."

You hummed, "Or, I could stay right here." you said with a giggle.

Sure, everybody knew about your infatuation, and sure, Daryl had noticed too. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught himself stealing glances at you too. He noticed the little things, the kind of things any other lust-filled guy wouldn't see. The silkiness of your hair, the precious flare in your cheeks after spending a day in the sun, your beautiful wide smile, the way your cheeks crease when you smile, the gleam in those bewitching eyes when you're looking at him. You were so... sweet. That's it, sweet. If he could define your being in one word, that would be it. Sweet. So sickeningly sweet, Daryl concluded that he'd never met anyone so soft and pure in his life before.

Sometimes, he hated it. What was a girl like you doing in a world like this? Surely, he thought, it would catch up to you soon enough and you'd die at the hands of-

Daryl could hear his brother's voice ringing in his ears.

Ya gon' protect her, lil' bro? She sure needs it, pretty thing won't survive long on her own.

A part of him feared that the memory of Merle's cynicism was right. Except, unlike other times, he wanted to protect you. For the first time, the idea of making a girl feel safe didn't come as a burden. The desire to keep you from harm came unfamiliar to him. It was a strange feeling that, despite the barriers he built that were supposed to guard him from these superficial affections, began to pierce his thoughts and corrupt his selfish notions. It started in the daytime, when he found himself glimpsing at you from a distance, then thinking about you, what you might feel like under his hands, so deliciously forbidden. Then thoughts of you entered his mind at night, and waves of guilt didn't cease to wash over him every time he buried his calloused hands beneath the rough denim of his jeans.

Your presence was angelic, he couldn't bring himself to deny that. If only he could work up the courage just to talk to you.

She don't wantchu, baby brother! What's a cute girl like her gon' wanna do with ya?

Nah, this time, Merle was wrong. Daryl had seen the way you looked at him, the way the corners of your mouth tugged up in a slightly mischievous grin when the two of you locked eyes across the room, right? Yes. This time, his anxiety and self-consciousness were not going to get the better of him.

The next day, Daryl's fingers tightly gripped the metal hand railing of the prison staircase, threatening to turn white if he didn't loosen his grasp. He was staring you down, having lost a little bit of the sudden confidence he found himself equipped with yesterday. Maybe he should talk to Rick, or Glenn? They were good with girls, right? Perhaps they'd offer the right advice for Daryl's foreign predicament.

Before Daryl could consider what he might say to the more 'experienced' men of the group, he was approached by Glenn, who adorned a beige button-up, black jeans, and a grin from ear to ear.

"Hey, man, why don't you just talk to her?" without really registering Glenn's words, Daryl was more focused on the sight of you in the corner of the dining area. Perched on a rusty metal seat, he couldn't shake the notion that you appeared so... out of place. Surrounded by those sporting worn clothes and sullen dispositions, you maintained a distinct luminescence that Daryl could only pine-

Shit. She's lookin' at me. An' I'm lookin' at her. An' what the fuck is Glenn saying?

"Uh- uhh, yeah," Daryl drawled. He turned sharply, and hoped it actually was a question to which he answered appropriately. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to think that the stoic hunter was crumbling under the gaze of a dead-girl-walking. It seemed, however, that he was too late.

"Look man, she obviously likes you and- and this world's too unpredictable not to tell her the truth about how you feel. I mean, look at what me and Maggie have." Daryl nodded. He somehow couldn't meet the other man's eyes. He agreed, though, that Glenn was right. In a world where love seemed like the most unattainable possibility, one look around this new residency revealed that love, however frivolous (and, dangerous), was blossoming all around. Glenn and Maggie, Judith, Tyreese and Karen, and ever-observant Daryl hadn't failed to notice the stolen glances between Rick and the newcomer Michonne. Maybe, despite the world outside the walls, Daryl could let himself love you. And let himself be loved by you.

With a pat on the shoulder and a nod goodbye, Daryl was left alone on the staircase with a grip on the rail a little looser than it was previously. At least, if he couldn't man up and straight up talk to you, he could find a way to show his love.

Show, don't tell, he decided.

ONE WEEK LATER Daryl stood in the prison yard, one leg swung over the seat of his bike, lost in the fond memory of a conversation you engaged him in the other day. He struggled even to remember what you spoke about. His thoughts were clouded with visions of you, the way your mouth looked when you smiled and talked at the same time, the way your eyes widened a little and your pupils expanded. Was that... just for him? Oh yes, that was it. He was going on a run and... you needed a new jacket, since you lost the old one during the transition from the farm to the prison, and now winter was approaching. Daryl was uncharacteristically nervous about whether you would like it, whether it would fit. Your sweet voice immediately snapped him out of his anxiety (which he had no idea how to handle) when you held up his gift and thanked him graciously.

"Hey, Daryl, I was... uhh- since you're visiting that old mall, I was just wondering if you could maybe pick up a jacket for me from a clothing store... or something? I lost mine and it's getting kinda cold... Don't bother if it's too much trouble!"

"Yeah, yeah, of course,"

You tried suppressing a little bit of shock after he agreed without a snarky remark, or without an irritated huff leaving his thin lips. As you stood rocking on your heels, you couldn't help but blush at the fact that his reaction was different for you than for everyone else.

Before Daryl could register the presence of a woman beside him and cease his musing for another day, he felt a brush of distinctly soft skin on the hand that rested on the seat of his bike. He turned to face whoever had just interrupted his romantic daze, preparing to brush them off as fast as he could, but- It was you. And were wearing that jacket. The one that he'd given to you. He almost melted at the sight and he had to compose himself before attempting to address you. He couldn't avoid, however, furrowing his brows and softening his eyes in the way you adored so.

"Uh, hey," he drawled, as his eyes wandered the lengths of your body and took in the sight of you, standing so close to him.

"Hey Daryl, I just... wanted to say thanks so much! I really appreciate you going out to get this for me," you said, softly and dreamily. You paused for a moment, averting your gaze down at your feet, contemplating how Daryl's eyes hadn't ceased studying your image since you approached him.

"I just wonder if there's anything I could do to return the favour?" Your wide eyes seemed to be speaking a different language, and Daryl could interpret only this;

I see the way you look at me,

I know you want me too,

Come inside.

"Nah, dun' worry 'bout it. Glad you like it."

"Alright, well, thanks anyway!" In that moment, you searched every cell of your body for the courage you needed to do what you were about to do. Rising up to your tiptoes, you swiftly but softly pecked a kiss on his cheek and began to quickly stride back to the prison entrance, before he had a chance to berate you.

"Hey, Y/N," he called out. You hummed in response, realising that you hadn't managed to make it as far as you wanted. A wave of guilt rushed through you, suddenly. It's not a big deal, it's just a kiss on the cheek, right?

"Rick said something about wanting us to talk later, you and me,"

"Rick did? Why later, why not now?"

Daryl was lost. He hadn't planned what to say next in this conversation. In truth, he just wanted you to stay, and if that meant succumbing to stuttering in front of you, then so be it.

"I, uhh- I dunno', I guess he thinks there's... things we oughta' discuss?"

One corner of your mouth tugged up when you realised just how utterly clueless Daryl really was. "Yeah, like what?" Let's see how he plays this one out, you thought.

"I dunno', unspoken stuff, I guess?" It was clear Daryl didn't know how to operate when attempting to vocalize his feelings. His glossy hair was falling over his eyes and framing his pretty face so perfectly, in a way that caught the last of the sunlight and lingered before it disappeared behind the trees.

You couldn't help yourself.

Approaching the archer, you removed your hands from the back pockets of your jeans and held eye contact for a moment. When his thin lips pressed together in what you recognised as a smile, you leaned in, pressing one hand to the side of his face and feeling the warmth of his flushed cheeks. Rising to your tiptoes once more, you closed the small distance between the two of you and waited for him to return the sweet kiss. It must have taken him a couple seconds to register what was happening because, when he did, you relaxed into the beautiful embrace of your tongues.

He tasted like pinewood, cinnamon, and stormy weather. It was delicious, and you couldn't get enough. When he allowed himself to place his hands on your hips, you felt the need for air rise up from the pit of your stomach to your throat. Placing your other hand on the back of Daryl's neck, you moved away slowly, not yet withdrawing from the closeness, and spoke,

"You can tell Rick that you're gonna come find me later."

#brandy writes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl x you #twd fluff #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl twd #daryl dixon x female reader #fem reader #daryl dixon twd

[trivialbob]

Last night I watched some clips from Smokey and the Bandit. As a kid I watched that movie in a theater. In those days I was genuinely sad when movies ended, and we had to leave the theater. Smokey and the Bandit was no different.

No matter how much I begged, my parents would not install a CB radio in our station wagon. They probably never even watched how much fun Bandit had.

This morning I decided I would cross state lines to buy beer that is not available in Minnesota. I donned my motorcycle gear and headed east to Wisconsin: land of cheese, beef sticks, more cheese, deer carcasses on highway shoulders, and--of course--lots of beer.

My destination was Nelson, WI. It's a pleasant 90 minute ride from home. The outside temperature rose as I rode down US 35, along the Mississippi River and Lake Pepin. Since I was hot my first top was the Nelson Creamery for ice cream. This time I didn't drip any on my hands or clothing. The creamery also sells cheese, beef sticks, and more cheese. I selected some items to bring home in my little cooler.

Whenever meat or cheese is priced per pound I examine every package and select the one with the lowest price. They all look the same, so to me I'm just wisely saving money. Here I saved $0.16 with the one in the top of the picture, but there's no way anyone can tell the two packages of string cheese are any different.

The creamery also sells local beer and wine. The Spotted Cow I wanted they didn't have in cans. A small liquor store a block away had those cans.

With cheese, beer, beef sticks and some more cheese on board, I crossed the river and headed for home, going up along the river on the Minnesota side.

#My Spotted Cow is much better than the Coors Big Enos Burdette and his son Little Enos had Bandit get for them #I hummed Eastbound and Down as I rode

[bubblygiggles]

A best friend thing (CAROLXDARYL TICKLE FIC) Season 10 SPOILERS WARNING

as per requested, i hope you enjoy <;3 @rwateringcan03

The revving of the motorcycle’s engine roared through the forest. Upon Carol’s request, Daryl and she were on their way to a spot where they could hunt. She rested her head on his back, wrapping her arms around his waist, trying to engrave this moment into her traumatized memory. Being away from him for so long felt strange, lonely almost, even though that’s what she intended to find comfort in when she sailed across the sea on her small boat. Their friendship, his presence, and dog made her feel safe. Lost in her thoughts, she played with the folds of his shirt, hugging him from behind. She would have never thought the redneck squirrel eater that she shared a camp with would become her closest friend. What would he have done to her ex-husband if he was still alive now? Would they have been friends had he lived? she felt Daryl move her hand away from his stomach. 

“Don’t tickle me when I’m driving woman” he barked over his shoulder.

“Sorry” 

She forgot that he was ticklish there. One of her favourite things was to tease Daryl and make him crack a smile. He’s always so grumpy and serious, especially since losing Rick. She didn’t blame him, they lost so many people along the way, it would drain anyone from their last drop of joy. 

They finally arrived to a spot near a river, where they hunted for little critters and fish. Carol spotted a deer which she hit with an arrow, but it escaped into the territory of the Whisperers. Daryl had to stop her before she crossed the invisible line. She had so much vengeful hate for that horrible woman, calling herself Alpha like she’s someone important. Daryl had to bring her back to reality, away from the enemies’s ground. 

They sat down on a fallen tree, surrounded by shy bird songs and the echo of the forrest. 

“Let’s runaway together.” Carol broke the silence.

“On your boat?”

“Yes, you and me.”

“And dog?”

“And dog.”

“The sea ain’t my thing… You could come home instead?” He glanced at her reaction, which saddened at the thought of going back to the place where she lost her son. She shook her head as to shake out the bad thoughts from her head. 

“Fine, let’s take your bike instead. Drive into the unknown!” 

“We ain’t got enough gas for that. We’ll just end up stranded somewhere.”

She rolled her eyes. “Since when did you become such a party pooper?”

“Since I haven’t seen my best friend for too long.” 

They looked at each other, exchanging a slight smile. 

“Are we going to have matching bracelets?” She teased.

“Shut up.” He playfully pushed her, chuckling.

“We can make a matching one for Dog too.”

“Yeah, we could.” 

The silence returned, making itself comfortable between them. She felt the distance that she created in their connection by leaving him for so long. He has been alone, and so has she, it’s almost as if they forgot how to be around each other. She didn’t like that, not at all. 

“Why are you so quiet?” She kicked her legs slightly, saying it while she looked at the ground.

“What do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t know..”

“Yeah, my point exactly.”

“Well, you can sing or something..” a smile formed on her face from the thought of him singing 

He looked at her with the most dreadful look possible. It’s the silliest thing he heard her say in a long time. 

“Or laugh at least!” She poked his stomach, making him crunch up in defence. 

She kept on poking with one hand until she slipped in her other, now clawing at his sensitive belly. The sensation was too overwhelming for him to handle, forcing him to bring his knees to his chest, hoping to block her evil fingers. But all that did was make him lose his balance and fall backwards onto the ground, legs hanging over the fallen tree. She laughed out loud in surprise. Oh how she missed their tickle fights.

Dog got up and delivered an abundance of wet kisses onto Daryl’s face, giving Carol the perfect opportunity to attack. She lunged at him, clawing gently at his exposed stomach, his shirt rid up a little from the fall. 

“NAHAHA CAHAHAROHOL STOHOHOP!” He desperately tried getting a grip of her hands, but she was too quick for him to catch them. He wiggled around like a worm on a hook, throwing her off and getting up as fast as he could. 

“Oh no we aren’t done here” she got up too, a playful grin on her face.

“Carol…” he backed away slowly, as she followed his steps.

“Do you remember how I used to wreck you back at the prison?”

“It’s not fair… You’re not ticklish.”

“Well, sucks for you.” 

At that, he made a run for it, using the trees to pivot faster and try to throw her off his trail. But she was in a playful mood, there was no winning for him and he knew that. She chased him around a little more until he slipped on muddy leaves, landing right on his back. Next thing he knew, her weight pinned his torso down and he felt his shirt being pulled up.

“AAAAH HAHAHA”  his husky scream was followed by a hoarse laughter.

She blew a raspberry right on his belly button, making him kick his feet in the air. God he hated when she did that. 

“Another one?” She teased.

“NononoOnoOnono PLEASE just gentle tiCKLes” his voice jumped with every tickle he felt.

“Okay Pooki” She resumed her attack, lightly scratching his stomach underneath his shirt. He bucked, he rolled from side to side, he squeaked and yelped and kicked, but he never stopped her. Seems like he missed their tickle fights too.

His raspy laughter soon went silent, laying on the cold ground as waves of tickles tormented his body. He couldn’t even open his eyes he was laughing so much. Carol eased up on him, pushing his sweaty bangs covering his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, exhausted laughter gradually stopping. She lay down beside him, resting her face against his arm. 

“I missed you.” She gently said.

“I missed you too.” 

#carol x daryl #ticklish daryl #Twd tickle #tickle fluff #tickle #tickle content #the walking dead #tickle fic #tickle headcanons

[raulfernandez]

Mmm Fermin/Alonso vampire au and Jaume/Adrian but you get to pick the au :)

Oh hello anon, thank you so much!!

TW: blood/dead animals

Fermin/Alonso:

Okay universe where you can be born a vampire if both your parents are vampires. Alonso was born a vampire, Fermin was recently turned into one (by somebody else, I dunno)

Fermin is still new to this whole vampire thing, he's inexperienced and scared, doesn't really know how to help himself

Alonso runs into him in the forest when he's on a run. Fermin is sat on the floor, a dead rabbit in hand. He doesn't want to hurt humans, it scares him, so he tries to substitute it with animals.

Alonso instantly notices what's happening, has seen the same thing from different people before, so he comes over to Fermin, trying not to scare him and just sits next to him for a while. Fermin is scared at first but he lets it happen

They talk for a while, Alonso offers to help him out in this new life, share all the advice he has and help him adapt to all the new things

Adrian/Jaume alien AU (suggested by my lovely Libby<3) (this still involves them being motogp riders lol)

Aliens are trained to be like the species they're meant to live with, so Adrian was trained on how humans behave, interact with each other and their surroundings and all that, before being sent to earth (for god knows what reason.) He doesn't really have any cool powers, he's just almost invincible to physical pain (big plus when he ends up being a motorcycle racer)) and he can feel the frequency of people's emotions

Adrian is sent to earth and gets adopted when he's said to be 17 in human years (because I need a reason for him to just randomly appear and for him to be an alien, but Raul not to be one (but I still need them to be brothers ofc)) Raul figures out Adrian is different and soon realises that he's not from this world when he sees some tiny antennas sticking out of his head (he can hide them, but in that moment he didn't because it's exhausting and he thought he was alone.) Raul honestly can't bring himself to care, he has a little brother now and the coolest one ever at that!!

Nobody but Raul knows, not even their parents, and Jaume doesn't notice either at first. Adrian wears hats all the time to hide his antennas anyways, and there is no other unusual-ness about him that would let anybody suspect. He's just a really curious person, always easily intrigued by something new. And aliens don't exist anyways, right?

But it happens as it has to, in the same way that Raul found out, Jaume finds out aswell. He bursts into Adrian's motorhome one night, wanting to tell him about something he noticed when going over the data of the day once again, and then he comes face to face with an Adrian who looks like a deer caught in headlines. Adrian prays he doesn't notice, he doesn't have the strength to hide them anymore, has done it all day already. At first Jaume doesn't notice, keeps rambling about the one curb that was making them problems the whole day, while walking further into the room. Then he looks at Adrian's face again and suddenly stops in his tracks before stepping closer to him. Adrian flinches away when he comes closer, tries his hardest to hide them but it just won't work. They stare at eachother some more before Jaume asks about it.

Jaume has always been fascinated by outer space and the possibility of life out there. Something about Adrian had always seemed a bit off to him, his curiosity and confusion at everyday things almost reminding him of the books he had read about aliens. They're great at mixing in with the species they live with and are really curious beings. They've never been on this planet before, don't know things like humans do, they get easily fascinated and amazed. All things he had noticed about Adrian before, after spending so much time with him every weekend. So when he sees the antennas he's read about poking out of Adrian's messy hair there's no more question to it. "You're.... are you... you're really not from this world, are you?"

#motogp rpf #fucking love these lol #I am actually going insane over that alien au like I am OBSESSED WTF #THANK YOU LIBBY #anna author era

[iluffyouxo]

†råñ§þårêñ† §ðµl ☾ || Daryl Dixon ♡

the walking dead — daryl dixon x black, female oc

The sun rays burned against my otherwise pale brown skin, seeping its light into my pores to bring more discoloration to my skin. Though, from what I could tell, it was some time past five o’clock, the sky was still as bright and as blue as it was in the afternoon. My vision was blurred as I rubbed at my eyes, squinting just so to be able to make out what I was seeing past the blinding yellow and high heat waves. I could make out a tuft of black hair walking next to longer black locks. “Glenn? Michonne?” At the beckoning of their names, the pair looks towards me and, what I assume, smiles in my direction, too. “Shinra!” Glenn happily exclaims, and I find myself smiling at the fact that I can recognize the people I’ve come to know as family even without being able to see. I’m soon able to make out their faces once we’re about ten feet apart. Glenn’s smile falters as he takes in my dazed appearance. “Shinra, where are your glasses?” I puff out an exaggerated sigh. “I lost them on my last run. I dunno what I’m gonna do.”

“Did you ask Rick if you could go out and search for them?” Michonne inquires about her newly snagged up boyfriend, placing a hand on her hip. “Yeah,” I groan, “But, he says it’s too far for me to go searching on my own—especially now that I can barely see—so I’ll have to wait.” Glenn’s face falls, “Wait…? You’re an important asset to our group! Without you going out on runs, we won’t get half of the supplies we usually would with you!” If my skin tone allowed me I’d be beet red at the flattery that my brother just frantically spat out. “Since when do we Rhee’s compliment each other?” I grin. “Since the world went to shit and compliments became hard to come by,” he chuckles.

“However,” Michonne began, “Glenn is right. You’re important to our group. Now that you can’t see, we’re in some deep shit.” Leave it up to Michonne to get back to the task at hand without a single laugh, I think with a slight grin. “We should go help her look, M,” Glenn suggests. My eyes grow wide and I shake my head. “Rick would have a fit; there’s no way he’d let us go just to find my glasses.” The two glance down at me. “Well, he’s going to have to. Those are the only glasses that have your prescription.” My eyes grow as wide as saucers at the realization. “Oh, man, I have to find my glasses.”

•

“So, where we goin’ n’ why?” The engine roared loudly as we drove past a couple of Walkers stalking out of the woods, a deer leg in the clenching jaws of the one on the right. Despite the world glaring like static right now, I’m fairly certain it looked like my third grade teacher, Mrs. Bluereguard. I shake my head at the thought and glance forward. “We’re going to the grocery store about ten minutes out, we’re looking for my glasses,” I reply crossing my arms. Currently, I was sat in the passenger seat of one of our older cars. Michonne, Glenn and Carol were seated in the back seats while Daryl opted to be the driver (per his request). “Ya lost yer glasses?” Daryl snorts. “Yeah, just like you lost your motorcycle,” I snap back. “Oh, that’s rich, Velma.” I roll my eyes. “I’m the comedian of the year, Streetrat.” Daryl flinches at that and only shifts his gaze my way for a few seconds before turning back to stare out into the empty road. “Yeah, well, whatever,” he mumbles. I couldn’t help but to feel the shift in atmosphere. I had said something I shouldn’t have, and, man, was that a shitty feeling.

The grocery store was a in-the-middle-of-nowhere Wal-Mart nearly fifteen minutes away from Alexandria. Surprisingly, the store was still intact. Stuck in time as if a whole ass pandemic hadn’t happened four years prior. We hopped out of the car, gathering our weapons and bags for supplies, before splitting up into groups of two: Carol, Michonne and Glenn; Daryl and I. Michonne and Carol pulled me to the side before we left to, hopefully, find my glasses successfully. “You need to apologize to Daryl,” Carol starts. Michonne nods in agreement. My eyes slit in a confused glare. “What?” Michonne sighs. “You might not know it but, Daryl cares a lot about what you think of him.” I blink slowly. “What?” Carol hits the side of my head with the open palm of her right hand. “You’re so blind even with glasses. Daryl is so transparent, you’d have to be ridiculously dense to not catch on.” I inhale. “W h a t…?” The pair shakes their heads in unison with heavy, exasperated sighs. “You’ll get it eventually—“ They pick up their things and began to walk away, “—just remember to apologize, Shinra.” Glenn scrambles after them.

•

It was dark and moldy and dusty. It took everything in me to not sneeze in the awkward quietness of Daryl’s company as he stalked around corners in front of me in a hunting-like stance. He held his bow (loaded and ready) in front of him despite the fact that we had done a sweep of this place a mere two days ago. It was only until I saw the blurred image of babies that I recognized where we were. “Here! This is it! This is where I dropped my glasses!” The brunette turns to me and I don’t have to look at him to know that his crystal eyes were cold. I smile sheepishly. “Sorry…I just wanna see again.” Daryl sighs but moves forward, refusing to utter a single word. Did I really hurt his feelings? I wonder as I follow close behind, hand holding tight to the hilt of my machete. That’s when something catches the light of the flashlight that I was shining down to the mud-ridden checkered floor. “My glasses,” I smile.

Daryl bends down and picks them up before swiftly turning towards me. I had thought he was going to hand them to me but he just stared down at the glasses that he held by the edge of its right arm. “Daryl…?” I question. He slowly looks up at me. “D’you—umm…d’you really think that?” I raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Think what?” He looks at me for a while before turning back around. “Never mind. Forget it. Let’s jus’ find the others,” he grumbles. I stare at his back as we begin to walk again, completely disregarding the fact that he never handed me my glasses. Were the girls right? I hook my hand around his arm, the bare flesh sweaty and hot. “Daryl, please, tell me what’s wrong. What is it that you wanna know?” He shrugs off my hand. “‘S nothin’, Shinra.” I cut my eyes at him in annoyance before quickly picking up my pace and side stepping in front of him.

His pale blue eyes glisten and his cheeks were flushed a peach-like pink. There was another emotion other than just fear and anger on his face—the only two expressions that I’ve come to associate with Daryl. He looked sad…. I hadn’t seen him like this since Merle died…or maybe when the prison was blown into a distant memory…? “Daryl…are you okay…?” I was at a loss for words. Before I could think of something more clever to say, the sentence had already slipped from my tongue. His gaze was downcast and he looked even more lost than my own jumbled thoughts. After moments of unbearable silence he finally looks up at me, and it was obvious that he was hurting. “No.” His voice was rough and broken. I could barely recognize it. My gaze softens at his response but, before I could get the chance to reply, I hear Glenn beckoning my name. “Hey, Shinra, did you find your glasses?” I turn around and pull together the ghost of a reassuring smile, “Yeah, Daryl’s hanging onto them for me.” Michonne and Carol show up not too much later. “We should get going, then. We were able to gather a bit more supplies.” I nod in agreement. “Okay, let’s go.” By the time that I turn around again Daryl is already walking away. Well, what the hell was that all about?

•

Days have gone by and it was as if Daryl was avoiding me. I hadn’t seen him since he had handed me my glasses once we had returned to Alexandria without a word. I had to corner him somehow in some way, shape or form. It had taken me a while to figure out but the best time to approach him was when he was working on his motorcycle. At least once a week he was at Rick’s house tinkering away at the vehicle he had recently gotten back from another group of survivors. (Either that or he was working on his bow).

It was some time late afternoon that I had decided to go on a walk and spotted him in front of Rick’s garage. Autumn was beginning to kick in and there were a few fallen leaves that had graced his hair and shoulders as he sat squatted in front of his bike. His bow sat next to him in a protective manner. He shivers as a particularly cold breeze whips by. “Now is a good a’ time as any Shinra.” I jump slightly at the sudden voice in my ear. I turn to the right of me to spot Michonne stalking towards the house. She winks at me as she climbs up the steps and slips through the slightly cracked front door. I sigh and stuff my hands into the pockets of my oversized jean jacket. My steps are light as I stroll towards him, curiously watching his concentrated glare. I tower over him for a little while before sitting down across from him. “Y’know, you can’t avoid me forever, Daryl.” The brunette doesn’t acknowledge my words nor my presence for several minutes causing a heavy sigh to slip through my lips. I had begun coming to a stand, ready to leave and confront him another day, when he grips my hand tightly. “I’m sorry…please, don’t go.” I blink. This Daryl Dixon was way too out of character for my liking. It was beginning to freak me out.

“You’re really starting to scare me, Dixon. If there’s something wrong, ya gotta tell me.” Still he refuses to meet my gaze but his lips do part to speak. “D’ya mean it when you called me a streetrat? ‘S that what you really think a’ me?” His voice was rough and distressed but soft and hesitant. Nothing at all like the Daryl I know. My heart clenches in guilt. “Fucking hell, Daryl, of course not. That’s not what I think of you at all. It was just a joke. Geez, I—you should’ve told me you felt like this sooner, asshole.” I raise my hand to rest at the nape of his neck and I caress the skin there. I feel him tense at the intimate touch and, eventually, looks up at me. “No, what I think of you is that you’re misunderstood…as someone who’s never really known what family is, you’re finally learning when everything is a shit show.” I inch closer and place my hands on his hips. His eyes grow wide and his jaw goes slack. “I think that you’re truly important to this impromptu group of ours…without you I’m sure we would’ve starved years ago, and that Rick would’ve lost his way in how to lead without your input.” I slip my hands under his shirt and trail the past-healed scars of his abusive past along his tattooed back. I feel him tremble under my fingertips, his own hands gripping tight to my arms. He gasps. “I think that you’re a survivor. I think that you’re a fighter. And I think that you are strong. And I will never think of you as anything less. I’m sorry that I made it seem as if I did and hurt your feelings.”

And he kisses me. As inexperienced as I can guess that he is, his lips move sloppily against my own. But I don’t mind. His lips are chapped and soft. And he tastes of cherries and yesterday’s roasted squirrel. It was comforting. Something that I’ve come to know in this clusterfuck. When I pull away I feel a wet sensation on my cheek. I smile slightly and kiss at the few tears that he sheds. “Don’t doubt for a second that I can’t see right through you…you have such a transparent soul, Dixon.”

#black writers #black female reader #black oc #excerpt from a book i'll never write #fanfiction #blasian oc #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x oc #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead #ooc daryl dixon #« outofcharacter » ( ooc ) #ooc tbt. #ooc character

[will-you-pick-me]

my mc is going to be the most innocuous person and then they open up the can of worms that is it's crazy, im SO excited !!!! also the yn playlist is so fun already eheheee!!! Here's a specific question for each of them: ideal outing?

Super glad you're enjoying the playlist! A few songs are references to how the LI's treat them in their bad endings... I wonder if you can figure out who had what ;3 And yessss I LIVE for an unhinged Y/N, make him WORSE honey!!! Or become the worst... Y/N is only one character away from "yan", after all >:3c

As for ideal outings---

Mikey is the stereotypical take-you-on-a-joyride-on-his-motorcycle-and-paint-the-town-red type of guy. Go movie hopping, steal snacks from a convenience store, maybe tag a rich guys house with some spraypaint - it's chaos, but DAMN do you feel alive while doing it.

Ulrich will likely just take you out shopping, until you have a fancy enough outfit - WITH accessories, and a handbag if you're femme, he's not a plebian - and then it's off to the hairstylist, and only THEN will he take you out to dinner. And it's a ridiculously fancy place, too - crystal chandelier hanging over a dancefloor, each table only meant for two, the linens probably the brightest and cleanest white you've ever seen, and at least one of the walls is entirely dedicated to an expensive-looking wine collection. It's easy for most average people to feel stifled and uncomfortable in a place like this, especially knowing you probably would have been treated like you were homeless if you'd shown up in your normal clothes. If Ulrich noticed your discomfort though, it's impossible to tell - he carries on with dinner as if you're just another one of the business officials he works with.

Zach is perfectly happy to just stay at home with you. They have plenty to offer right in their own living room, after all, so unless you ask for something specific and bring your own ideas to the table, they're not going out of their way to leave the nest. They feel much more comfortable when they know you're here, and safe, anyways. But if there's nowhere you want to go explore, then go ahead and pick out a movie or TV show, and they'll gladly tuck you into chunky yarn blankets and bring you your favorite hot drink.

Jessica, it depends on the season. In colder weather, she's reluctant to leave the fireside, preferring to sit in the flame's light with you in peaceful silence with a good book. But when warmer weather hits, she's all revved up to get outside, see the sun, hear the birds, and maybe even do a little foraging for wild raspberries - they taste SO much better than those bloated things in the store, trust her - and to visit faires and carnivals and parks.

Jack is a little bit of a yes-man - he'll automatically defer to anything you want to do, but if you insist that you want to do something he enjoys... You're paying a visit to the woods with him. Now might be a good time to keep an eye out for any other signs of life. ... I mean, wildlife is beautiful, right? Imagine seeing a wild deer or turkey after all! Ahahaha...

Narrator will also be content doing whatever makes you happy, as long as he gets to hold you and reassure himself that this is really real. Assuming this is after you set him free, then being outdoors where there's wind and sun will be his favorite thing - but even the moon and stars will hold importance to him, even if the inky black they swim in reminds him of the void. You might catch him pausing to just touch all the plants, a quiet sort of wonder and awe in his expression. You might also recognize that expression from when he looks at you.

#pick me! arg #pick me! characters #mun talks #narrator speaks #teasers #sneak peeks #hints

[drgrlfriend]

I posted 2,229 times in 2022

47 posts created (2%)

2,182 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fyeahwinterhawk

@kangofu-cb

@hellyeahbottombucky

@midnightwinterhawk

@hafital

I tagged 2,218 of my posts in 2022

#hawkeye - 1,476 posts

#clint barton - 1,474 posts

#marvel - 1,466 posts

#bucky barnes - 1,409 posts

#the winter soldier - 1,398 posts

#mcu - 1,363 posts

#winterhawk - 1,302 posts

#ca:tws - 1,261 posts

#random - 212 posts

#teen wolf - 185 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#marking it complete is like saying you filled the gas tank in the car and then when your spouse runs out of gas you're like 'well i filled i

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay, all my peeps need to run out and immediately watch the movie RRR on Netflix.

Think of a Marvel movie, but on steroids. This movie is bonkers. This movie is fantastic. This movie is "what the fuck? (confused)" combined with "OMG what the fuck?!? (laudatory)"

Dance-offs? Check.

Close male friends expressing the wish to die for each other? Check.

Motorcyles being thrown? Wait, you've seen that before in a Marvel movie... how about FLAMING motorcycles being thrown? Check.

Tiger fights? Not interesting enough? How about tiger, wolf, deer, jaguar, bear, and other miscellaneous wildlife fights? Check.

Colonizers getting it in the neck? Check, check, and double-check. You like that scene in The Old Guard where Nicky and Joe are fighting in tandem? How about fighting in tandem with one CARRYING the other on his shoulders? Check.

I tried to find one post to reblog that had enough gifsets to convey the tone, but went deep in the tag and could not find just one, so here are some random gifsets that pop up when I search:

See the full post

60 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

#4

Fan artists are already amazing, but @aukanemin takes it to another level. Not only are their artworks gorgeous, lush, and detailed, but they are producing them in the midst of terrible conflict, power outages, and incredible uncertainty. I commissioned this work for my Winterhawk fic, Freedom's Reach, and am beyond thrilled with the result as well as the entire process. Bucky Barnes and Clint Barton were new characters for @aukanemin and they did an absolutely amazing job manifesting something that lived only in my imagination and making it ten times as beautiful in the process. 100% recommend stalking them for commissions to open up again so you can nab a masterpiece of your own. Freedom's Reach by dr_girlfriend

Summary:

Clint is about to move on when his eyes drift up to the lettering at the top of the window.

FREE PASSAGE TO THE WEST!

Clint knows that the circus folk mock him — call him too trusting, too soft-hearted — but even he knows nothing in this life comes free. The words puzzle him, and he reads them again carefully to make sure he hasn’t made a mistake.

His eyes are drawn to one posting at the very bottom corner, different from the others. This one is sun-faded and starting to yellow, curling at the corners. Clint crouches down, brow furrowing and lips moving as he sounds out the unfamiliar words.

Western Man Seeking a Husband — I am a kind and unassuming man of good financial means seeking a helpmate and companion. I have lost my arm in the service of our Union, but am otherwise free from disease. I am not particular as to looks, but am seeking an individual of equal youth and vivacity with whom I can share my affection and devotion. I am a man of quiet habits, moderate temperament, and kind disposition and would seek the same in my husband.

81 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#3

Cannot. Stop. Laughing.

I’m not yet convinced Musk’s ownership will bring the worst predictions to pass. But if it does, and Twitter dies, let me offer a word of advice: Don’t mourn too long. You’ll be just fine. In fact, sooner than you think, you might even feel a sense of reprieve, once the hellsite as you knew it has finally gone to hell. I know because I’ve been through this before: I was there when Tumblr died.

See the full post

276 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

#2

Please vote. Please vote. Please please please vote.

Don't let Republicans take power in November.

321 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Look at this amazing Winterhawk art, commissioned from @drizzledrawings! Based on this from Lucky in Love: Clint has found an arrow loose somewhere, and is messing with the fletching, head flopped back on the back of the couch as he squints at it.  “Fireworks tomorrow night,” he notes casually, not even looking away from the arrow.

Bucky’s stomach drops.  He hadn’t even realized — he should have brought this up with his therapist weeks ago.  Based on how he had reacted that one time a car backfired, fireworks would —

“Lucky hates ‘em,” Clint continues, interrupting Bucky’s panic-spiral.  “I got it set up where we can listen to the t.v. with headphones, usually we watch movies all night.  You want in on that?”

The relief is palpable, the sickening roil of Bucky’s stomach settling immediately at the thought of being able to just block it all out, safe and warm wedged on the couch between Clint and Lucky.

“Yeah.  Sounds good,” he mumbles.

Clint still doesn’t look up, just smiles to himself small and private, where he’s fixing his arrow.

Bucky scoots in a little closer and Clint doesn’t miss a step, just loops his left arm so it’s around Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky lets his eyes droop to half-mast, resting his head against Clint’s shoulder.  He feels the movement of the muscles under his cheek as Clint continues to fiddle, the silence warm and comfortable around them, Lucky leaning heavily against Bucky’s other side.

Yeah, Bucky thinks.  That’s what this warm feeling must be.  Home.

496 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #winterhawk #clint barton #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #hawkeye #rrr #tumblr #lgbtqia+

[wexarethewalkingxdead]

MUN AND MUSE QUESTIONS ♡

List 5 of your muse’s favorite sensations. 

Beth - riding bareback on a running horse, silk on my fingertips, the first time you go swimming in the summer and feel that cool water on your warm skin, the way your heart speeds up when you’re reading a good book and it’s at the good part, and the way your heart skips a beat when you’re about to be kissed or touched.

Carol - the feel of the bow and arrow in my hands, the skipping of my heart whenever Daryl is around and close to me, the feeling I get when I’m riding a horse, the way my heart feels when I’m baking something for someone I care about, and the way I felt when they placed Sophia in my arms when she was born. 

Charley - the way the smell of an old book makes me feel, the feeling of pride I get when a student finally gets something that I’ve been teaching, the way dirt feels between my fingers when I’m working the garden, the tiredness in my body after a long day, and the way I feel whenever I see Sammy. 

Daryl - the feeling I get when it’s about to rain and I can smell it, the second before I take down a deer with my crossbow, the way a book feels in my hands, the rumble of the motorcycle between my thighs, and the way Carol makes me feel whenever she’s near. 

Rick - the way hearing my children’s laughter makes me feel, the way I feel when the woman I love touches me in an innocent manner, the way a fire feels on my skin, the way I feel when I ride a roller coaster, and cool sheets on a hot night.

Shane - the way I feel when I ride a roller coaster, the feel of my Glock in my hand ready to aim and fire, that first burst of flavor from a ballpark hotdog while watching a ballgame, the way my body feels when I’m with a woman, and the feeling I used to get when I ran for a touchdown and was almost unstoppable. 

Sophia - the way I felt the first time Carl kissed me, the way my stomach goes up and down when I ride a carousel, the way my heart skips a beat when lightning flickers, the way I feel when I’m riding a horse, and the way I feel when I learn something new.

Do they have any pet peeves? 

Beth - chewing with one’s mouth full. 

Carol - people who interrupt other people when they are talking.

Charley - using words the wrong way.  

Daryl - know-it-alls.

Rick - repetitive tapping. 

Shane - nosey people. 

Sophia - scraping silverware on a plate.

Their comfort read? (could be a book, magazine, comics, etc) 

Beth - Love Comes Softly by Janette Oke

Carol - Anything by James Patterson. 

Charley - The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. 

Daryl - Anything about Robin Hood. 

Rick - Batman comics. 

Shane - Marvel comics. 

Sophia - the Divergent Series by Veronica Roth. 

If the book they are reading turns out to be shit, do they push through  just for the sake of finishing it, or do they move  on and find something else? 

Beth - moves on.

Carol - moves on. 

Charley - push through. 

Daryl - push through. 

Rick - depends. 

Shane - moves on.

Sophia - push through. 

Their comfort tv show / film 

Beth - Wildfire.

Carol - The Golden Girls. 

Charley - The X-Files.

Daryl - True crime documentaries. 

Rick - Die Hard. 

Shane - Top Gun. 

Sophia - Hannah Montana 

A song that is currently stuck in their head? (or multiple)  

Beth - I Don’t Wanna Grow Up by Tom Waits. 

Carol - Slide by Goo Goo Dolls. 

Charley - Smoke a Little Smoke by Eric Church. 

Daryl - Creep by Radiohead. 

Rick - As Good As I Once Was by Toby Keith.

Shane - Runnin’ with the Devil by Van Halen.

Sophia - White Horse by Taylor Swift. 

The next three questions are for you. Do you have anything special in common with your character. 

Beth - music. 

Carol - family. 

Charley - reading/writing. 

Daryl - keeping people I love safe. 

Rick - being just and prompt. 

Shane - being pragmatic. 

Sophia - being soft.

What brings you the most joy about writing this character, right now?

Beth - She’s got a lot of joy and hope. That makes me happy. 

Carol - I love writing about her because she’s a badass. 

Charley - Their love for Sammy. 

Daryl - Daryl’s growth. 

Rick - Rick’s determination. 

Shane - Shane’s pragmatism. 

Sophia - Sophia being able to see the world through the eyes of being innocent. 

Who would win in a fight, you or them? 

Beth - Me. 

Carol - Carol. 

Charley - Maybe me?

Daryl - Daryl. 

Rick - Rick. 

Shane - Shane. 

Sophia - Me. 

Any advice from your muse? 

Beth - “Always look for the brighter things in life.”

Carol - “Never let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough.” 

Charley - “Never give up on your love of putting pen to paper.”

Daryl - “Remember to see the sunshine through the rain.”

Rick - “Always keep your family close.” 

Shane - “Don’t let anyone take what’s yours.”

Sophia - “If you see someone without a smile, give them yours.”

Tagged by: @lunarruled Tagging: @norvstforthvwickvd @secondhandmckie @emeryfleming @careol @we-will-begin-again @doginthecorner @smokinmirrors @corxunum @thesoulofasurvivor @handsbloodied & anyone else that wants to do this one!

#.dash games [muses] #.dash games [mun] #.headcanon [beth] #.headcanon [carol] #.headcanon [charley] #.headcanon [daryl] #.headcanon [rick] #.headcanon [shane] #.headcanon [sophia]

[the-firebird69]

I'm hoping that we have a sponsor for my idea and BG is saying he's going to give it a shot and it is for the RTA stitch motorcycle and really it is the RTA you assemble it at home and you glue it and you bolt it and it is metal weld liquid metal weld that you use it's the outer cure we have several designs with several different frames materials and it might be one week of solid half inch rod it might be one week of one by two and another week of inch and a half on tube or 1 in hollow tube but BG is willing to give it a go so I'm going to give him the floor this is a more reserved group they might not get naked and drive out drinking

Zues Hera

I'm requesting my morlock to do so in miscellaneous we get along and Camilla I do need your assistance. Right now I'm calling mine so I'm going to say it. Calling all cars calling all cars we have a red alert and a missing person no we have an emergency we need motorcycles and we need scooters and that's where we're going to build and his stitch idea is the best and that's what people are calling it it's like a wooden stitch boat. And I'm going to have to call mine in to bring in the rider lawn mowers and you know the drill the case of beer goes on the top of the thing and ours will be long to pick you up with a truck and usually has a crane and we're going to get along and it's my factories in Los Angeles just driving that direction everybody knows where it is and it's an area and some of them are very empty I do get the idea and how to do it and I've done a lot of things like it but this makes a lot of sense welding those damn things together is impossible they're freaking moving all the time you can put these in a jig and put the clamps on and actually put the saddles on and it's going to be in place and we know how to do it too to get it right you put the saddles on you move it to position and you tack it stuff like that but here you're going to put it together and you'll hold it together with the jig drill it and send it out and then someone else's responsibility LOL we're getting it together and I do know what to ask for it's a John Deere 110 and above and have gears self-propelled don't work very well now we have a use for them if you want to bring them if that's what you got you have a place and you have a job if you have a regular lawn mower you have a place and a job we have machines that we need engines for so let's get going and that's my clan and miscellaneous has a set of factories next door

Bg

We didn't expect this but we are going to do it I'm calling hours and we have a similar ceremony where you put a six pack up on the hood and we don't drink as much cuz we don't want to get grabbed and let's get going on it and any brand okay these days we can't be selective we'll be by to pick you up and we do know who you are mostly sometimes

The Rock

For something The Rock that's pretty lame you know where in La okay that's North of San Diego and far south of San Francisco it's where my son was for quite a while and I'm half something else and he says you sure are and so I want you to head down there to our factories if you don't know where they are ask directions and use the lingo and you'll get there and I'd say to my ladies get a six pack and put it on top because that's what you need and you're going to have to break that harness you got on and this is a great idea it's the stitch method and we're going to bolt it up together they get approved then we're going to make prototypes but we need people we need to ride a lawn mowers that mostly any ride to lawn mower because it's used on a motorcycle or scooter and really it's the same thing we can get the wheels and tires and we can get other parts but the frame is always a monster and we're going to make it work yeah I said it on purpose we need these things that's what it means and we have to move around we're being framed and we have to move around and work

Camilla

I'm going to sponsor this project but I have factories nearby and I want you guys to come out to mine and I'm part of miscellaneous sort of I'm kind of pseudo empire but I'm easy out of it pretty quickly I don't have any ships left about 500 million and I'd like to pull them off and read outfit them as our friend suggested because they're just going to lose and they're bunch of losers and they don't know what they're doing and by the way mine are not really considered to be morlock a lot of them are healthy and they're sick of them it's disgusting and we've been in with miscellaneous they're much healthier and dangerous but we are and it's going to happen now and yeah it looks like Trump had another fall and pretty far I'm not really sure how he could have done that but it wasn't us

And it was a show and I on history but NCIS New Orleans he always liked the actress but it's not really her and he knows it and it's not a big deal they're kind of friends and they help each other we have a project to do now and we're going to pick it up

Camilla

You're going ahead with this and we're going to help them out we have materials if they start up and do it we're going to help they have a lot of parts and we can supplement and we are going to try and sell them stuff that they need if they don't have stuff to fill in and we're going to do that right away so we have an in out in the perimeter yes

Olympus

Is a great idea and I guess we're spoiled rotten and they're missing the whole thing and we're not really calling ours to come out

Trump yeah I'm going to buy Harley-Davidsons once we sell the company if we could ever do that and we want those damn limiters off it the stupid thing suck and we did it but boy do they blow I'll tell you what I felt like throwing the bike into the woods I don't care if I can pick it up or not

I can't stand those damn things either you have to talk to Mac and Ben in the same they didn't make us keep them on and it was you guys they say we're going to sell the company to them and they said you can make this order contract you know you're not going to need it for too long but it might explain while we're driving up and down we're buying Harleys the important I was suck and he wants to remind me there is the 350 x and the 500x and they changed it and looks much nicer and it rise nicer and I do appreciate that that's perfect for us it's it's not the breakout it's the 48 it's got a big motor but it's not as hard to handle so there's some bikes that we can ride and trikes our guys love trikes and they make a lot of trice they make the best trikes it's not a fact they love them they have music they have all sorts of doodads and and you can store a rain gear I mean they're decent in the rain too we're going to have to do this cuz he has to start building and he can't until we do it

Bja

We appreciate your help you too that was misery

Thor Freya

We needed to help and we did they did pretty good and he's got some stuff going both we didn't expect it and this is much better and it is why they're driving back and forth those big assholes even John Travolta do it on his wild hog it's probably because of that stupid turn off thing is not on it

Frank Castle hardcastle

We're going ahead with this plan and it's going to help this is going to be a lot of work and we're moving on it and we cannot help but say these people are stupid as hell but some of them are doing the job and it's a relief. And those two finale they're going to buy a ton of bikes in the max Watson too they want them to he's getting a bit tired but I will say this this is a really awesome company there's some things we would change we're going to hold off until we get agreement but it seems like they want to make some changes the motor needs to be improved we can do that real fast we need to make everything liquid cooled and we need to start doing it he wants to send Jason a trike with a note that says don't demote my income please and we're probably going to do that

Duke nukem Blockbuster

[pointreyesjournal]

A Complete 180 : ep180

Kudos to Beri. Her April Fools stunt brought Cheyenne and I together, and now her Nepenthe surprise has coerced Cheyenne into joining us in Europe.

Cheyenne’s change of heart about the summer Mediterranean trip is good for everybody. It’s good for Beri, because she’ll have her best girlfriend at her wedding. It’s good for Henrik, because he’ll have a happy bride. It’s good for Me, because Floody and Autumn won’t have to treat me as the fifth wheel. But ultimately, it’s good for Cheyenne.

On Sunday afternoon as we are on her porch and I’m kissing her goodbye for the week Cheyenne tells me “It’s going to be tough once school starts in the fall. This trip will give me a chance to relax and reset. I think it’ll actually be good for me.”

I agree. Her head will be in the right place when school starts. Plus … it’s going to be an awesome vacation.

…

Wednesday morning I’m practicing foam art in my cappuccino when the front door swings open. It’s Floody. His bandages are gone and he’s looking human(ish) again. My foam art experiment isn’t going too well. The attempted fern leaf looks like big flappy labia.

Floody: Looks tasty!

He fishes the Nutella out of the cupboard then pushes me aside so he can make his signature breakfast of champions “Kurt Vonnegut” drink.

Me: What brings you to Point Reyes Station on a Wednesday morning amigo?

Floody: This pregnancy is doing my head in, and I just need to talk a few things out.

Me: Are you excited?

Floody: I am.

Me: Are you going to raise kids in the city or move out to the ‘burbs like me?

Floody: We’ll stay in the city. San Fran still has a small neighborhood feel, even though it’s a big city.

Me: Autumn will be a great mom.

Floody: Absolutely. But that’s why I’m here. If I’m going to be a dad, I have to make some changes.

Me: Such as?

Floody: Well, just growing up myself. I just killed the Ducati. I was thinking about taking a break from motorcycling for a bit and holding off on buying another one.

Me: Have you ridden since your crash?

Floody: No.

Me: Go get your shit on, we’re going for a ride.

Floody: No see, that’s the whole point. There’s a baby growing inside of Autumn and I think to be a good dad, I should probably be a little more responsible.

Me: Get. Your. Shit. On. We’re going for a ride. They repaved the road all the way out to Point Reyes.

I grab the coffee cup out of his hands and pour it into the sink before storming angrily out of the kitchen and toward the garage. By the time Floody has his helmet on, I’ve got my superbike out of the garage alongside the scrambler, both idling and ready to roll.

Me: Choose your weapon.

Floody: First time back, I’ll take the scrambler.

Me: Wrong. Choose again.

Floody: Dude, I don’t think my wrists can take the superbike yet. I’ll take the scrambler.

Me: You’re taking the Panigale.

Floody: Calm the fuck down man. I get what you’re trying to do.

Me: No you don’t.

I jump on the scrambler and tear out of the driveway at full throttle. He doesn’t like to follow me, his Dangerous Dave personality is far too alpha for that, so I run the stop sign at the gas station and force him to give chase illegally.

Steve Prefontaine once said of running “The best pace is a suicide pace, and today looks like a good day to die.” How apropos.

I’m pushing the little scrambler as hard as I can. The speedometer says 120 when we pass through the 25mph zone in Inverness. I can see Floody flashing his headlights at me to slow down but I ignore him.

What was once Mr Toad’s Wild Ride, is now a repaved masterpiece. A twenty mile strip of twisted ribbon tarmac from the intersection of Pierce Point all the way to Point Reyes. I’m pushing so hard, that there is a VERY high probability that I’ll die from a deer or elk strike. But I don’t care. If this is going to be my last ride ever, I’m going to the bitter edge of sanity. I’m going to see what this motorcycle is made of. I’m going to see what I’m made of. But, most importantly, I’m going to show Floody what he’s made of.

Riding out to Point Reyes is like driving straight out into the Pacific Ocean. Halfway to the point the fog rolls in and the temperatures drop about 30 degrees. It’s bone chilling and the sightlines are terrible.

I enter a flow state. At this pace, my brain abandons any spare thoughts. I’m no longer trying to teach him a lesson, or prove a point. I’m just trying to stay alive and all processing power is directed toward perfectly apexed corners and full throttle accelerations between corners.

30 minutes after it begins, the insanity ends in the parking lot at Point Reyes. Floody rips off his helmet and begins yelling at me.

Floody: ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?!

Me: What’s your name?

Floody: What?

Me: I said, what’s your fucking name?

Floody: You know my name!

Me: You’re goddamn right I do Asshole! But I want to hear you say it.

Floody: My name is David Flood.

I lift up Flood by the collar of his jacket and I’m screaming at him at the top of my lungs.

Me: YOU ARE DANGEROUS DAVE! THAT IS WHO YOU ARE! IF YOU GIVE THAT UP, YOU’RE NOTHING! YOU’LL BE A MISERABLE SHELL OF YOUR FORMER SELF AND IN TWO YEARS AUTUMN WILL BREAK UP WITH YOU AND SHE’LL RAISE YOUR CHILD ALONE! … Now, I’m going to ask you again “What is your name” and if you answer anything other than “Dangerous Dave” this parking lot is going to turn into a crime scene. Understand?

Floody nods his head and I let him go.

Me: Now get on your bike. I’ll buy you breakfast at Station House. Shy is working this morning.

#novel #point reyes station #ducati

[lizardtracks]

August

8/1/22: It’s August. Sirius, the Dog Star, has slid out of conjunction with the sun and escapes below the horizon ahead of the afternoon heat. For those of us with no escape, the Dog Days lay over the land like a vaporous malady. The Druids knew this to be a harvest season; the planet has turned a corner into autumn. I am off to harvest a boyhood memory.

To come along, go to the tiny town of Berlin in Somerset County, Pennsylvania. Find a road once called The Old Plank Road. Yes, it was always old. To the highway engineer and the tourist, people who use roads as artlessly as a spinster uses a hammer, it looks like any other stretch of winding macadam two-lane in the Allegheny Mountains. To me, it seems like the footsteps of a small boy running barefoot through the collective memory of the German and Scotch-Irish settlers who lived there.

Pass the Ponfeigh Farm. The standard Herefords and Holsteins will be in the fields. With luck, a gray Percheron will be hanging its wide face over the top of a white board fence like a harvest moon. I ignore the dirt road to the right. It leads to other memories I will gather another time. 

Instead, I follow the Plank Road to an unpainted bus shanty still bearing the imprint of a steel arrowhead. The arrow went through a foggy November morning and a phantom deer on its flight to the shanty. When the wood impeded its flight, the arrow stopped abruptly, quivering in the damp, cold air like a rudely plucked guitar string. A young man still recovering from a skull fracture shot the arrow. He and his motorcycle had learned the three important laws of physics from a deer. From that moment on, with or without cerebral fluid leaking through his skull, he saw deer in places other folks did not.

The small boy later broke off the shaft, sharpened it and shot it from his own handmade bow into his sister’s head. Accidentally. Her hair, until that moment, had been just as tow colored as his. After that moment, it had crimson streaks in it. They matched the crimson welts that soon appeared on the buttocks of the small boy, the regularly appearing stigmata of culpable boys everywhere. The streaks on the buttocks soon disappeared, though the impression they left remained like marks from a pillow on a dreamless night. The crimson streaks in his sister’s hair never went away. The year was 1965. You will sense all this when you see the shanty.

At the shanty, a dirt road leads off to the right. The road is still dirt over half a century after the small boy last scuffed his shoes on it walking home from school in the third grade. The road follows a creek that was once waded by a pair of coverall clad boys, brothers, looking for crawdads. The progeny of the uncaught crawdads still troll the pebbly creek bottom. Driving counter to the creek, I let the dappled sunlight flowing across the windshield —from the birch trees, maple trees, hemlock trees, and blighted chestnut trees—bring on a dream state. I roll down the windows and breath in the wintergreen and the ferns.

The road crosses a culvert above a forlorn looking pond. The pond became forlorn looking by trying to imitate the faces of the cows that once drank from it. I’ll park here. Yes, it’s nothing but a derelict sidehill farm with an overgrown apple orchard. The apple orchard is what I want. You can cut across the orchard if you like. I’ll walk down the drive past the east side of the white clapboard house. As I pass the cistern maybe I’ll glimpse, through the screened window, the small boy’s mother canning peaches. The regulator on the heavy cast iron pressure cooker will be rocking furiously. Peaches are a delicate fruit. You must put them up right away. They go from fresh to ripe to rotten in a fortnight. So the regulator rocks furiously as basket after basket of peaches go into Mason jars for the winter.

Not so our apples. They are a sturdy fruit. You can pluck an apple off the ground and eat it until well after the first frost. Stored in a root cellar, they can add to the festivities and seasonal color of Christmas.

But this memory is not about Christmas. Not in August. Not with the keening of cicadas coming from every tree. I am here for a particular apple. A Sheepnose apple. This orchard has only one tree of that apple. The tree is near where the Model A truck sat. Most of the year it sat, its wheels chocked; its tires dry rotting; its engine drained of water. But once a year, just because, the small boy’s father refilled the radiator from the cistern, cranked the engine over and un-chocked the wheels. The family would clamber aboard the backfiring machine. Away they went, riding up and down the dirt road raising glorious rooster tails of dust. But mostly the truck made a platform for gathering Sheepnose apples.

The truck has long since become elemental, rusted into the ground. I will pick my apple today from on my tiptoes. And with a snap and swish of a branch now it is in my hand. The long conical shape, like a sheep’s nose, is covered in a thin garnet-colored skin flecked with gold. Sometimes they ripen to a deep purple. When I bite into it, it tastes like… Like what? Here the memory fades. I know that it is neither tart nor sweet. And that a bite taken neither snaps away in a juicy spray, nor slowly separates like drier apples. But I cannot recall the exact flavor, or sensation. Since then I have eaten hundreds of Red Delicious, maybe as many Granny Smiths, and dozens of Braeburns, Galas, Fujis, McIntosh’s, and Honeycrisps. But since then, I have never crossed paths with another Sheepnose. Fifty intervening summers have faded the memory, like a Polaroid left in a window sill.

With a sigh, I drop the prize apple on the ground for the field mice and ground hogs. Or the black bear I was sure lived in the abandoned coal mine in the most shadowy nape of the woods. I will harvest only part of a memory today. It was a good one. Though it’s hard to say how much was real and how much was simply snatched from the ether. That’s the problem with memory.

The sun is just touching the crest of the hill at Valhalla, a long gone sugarhouse. Maybe there is still enough daylight to head down the Old Plank Road, the pavement still warm, to someplace more recent and a little closer to home.


#memories #pennsylvania #apple #mountains #home

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   pairing: kazutora x reader

♡   —   summary: after a long day at work, you want nothing but to spend a calm night with your boyfriend. however, you have no idea this is the night were all his demons finally get the best of him.

♡   —   tags/warnings: female reader, angst, breakups, hurt feelings everywhere, mention on mental illnesses and nightmares, based on ben platt’s song ‘carefully’, mention of tora’s job in one of the future timelines.

♡   —   a/n: i enjoyed writing kazutora so. damn. much. also, i’m quite proud of this one and the small details i added~ thank you @ofoceansandtombstones​​ for being my lovely beta <3

♡   —  masterlist

And all this time you've had a gentle way of holding me

So could you please release me that way too?

— “carefully” by Ben Platt

“It’s open, come in!”

The first thing Kazutora sees when he opens the door of your apartment is you, kneeling on the kitchen floor and picking up pieces of a broken baking dish. Red sauce has splattered everywhere and his mind betrays him for a second, imagining an accident far worse than what has truly happened. He blinks twice and starts to notice the small details that finally slow down the fast beating of his heart. There are pieces of chicken breasts next to the open oven door and what he thinks are sliced carrots next to your right knee.

You hiss when you pick up a piece of the shattered glass, the sharp end pinching your finger. Kazutora comes back to his senses, widening his eyes as he realizes he’s just been standing there.

“Hey, let me. You’ll cut yourself,” he warns, walking up to you. Grabbing both your hands, he eases you into your feet and then guides you to the living room. “I’ll take care of it,” he promises as he goes back to the kitchen and starts cleaning up the mess.

You let yourself fall on the sofa with a loud thud and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I just had the most awful day,” you whine, taking off your apron and leaving it on the arm of the sofa.  “Work was hell, I got scolded by something that I didn’t do— like always, only this time my boss was all like: ‘You gotta be more careful, we wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable employee’. Like he was going to fire me over someone else’s mistake?!”

Your voice is getting louder by the minute and you take advantage of the fact Kazutora is in another room to keep the volume. You have been waiting the entire day to see him and vent about what a trainwreck you day had been. Just as always, he listens intently, the only noise coming from the kitchen being a soft scraping sound as he picks up everything and throws it to the trash. 

“Then, I went to the store and of course they had run out of basil. Tell me, how does a store that big run out of basil?” you ask. There’s no answer from the kitchen so you continue. “I mean, yeah, I could have gone to another store but my feet were killing me. I’m just not meant to work in heels the entire day,” you sigh tiredly, swinging your feet.

You reposition yourself, now sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Putting your right hand on your left shoulder, you stretch your neck, feeling your sore muscles releasing a bit of tension with a small ‘pop’.

“I ended up preparing something entirely different than I had planned for dinner. I tried to let it go but just as I was going to put it in the oven, it slipped my hands and—”

“I think we should break up.”

Words die in your lips the moment you listen to your boyfriend speak. The silence becomes loud and abrasive as you struggle to understand what was happening. Why was Kazutora breaking up with you with such a small voice? What had triggered him to come to that conclusion? Why had he decided to bring it up now? You turn your head to the kitchen door and watch him slowly make his way towards you, doubtful steps as he takes a seat on the other side of the sofa, avoiding your eyes at all costs.

“What?” you ask, your voice hoarse. His lips form a tight line and you see him swallowing nervously.

“I’m not doing okay— haven’t been for a while. I— it’s been two years since I left prison and I still haven’t— I don’t— I don’t know what I’m doing,” he explains, looking down at his hands.

You nod slowly, trying to comprehend where he’s coming from. Turning your body towards him, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“It’s okay not to know,” you assure him in a soft voice. “Just… take it slow. One day at a time and then I’m sure you’ll—”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Kazutora confesses and you notice his voice wavering a little. “I— I keep having nightmares about— about that day and— and also about the motorcycle shop. Those two mix up and…” he takes one of his hands to the side of his head, his fingers grazing his temple. “And I’m hitting Baji in the head. And there’s so much blood— so, so much blood and—”

Leaning forward, you take his hands. They’re shaking and extremely cold and you rub your thumb over his knuckles, trying your best to soothe him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now, Tora, you’re—”

Kazutora pulls his hands away hastily, leaving a tingling sensation on your palms.

“I can’t!” he says as he shakes his head. You spend a moment looking at your empty hands, never before having felt your boyfriend’s rejection. “I feel like I’m drowning and— You know what? I think relationships just aren’t for me,” he shrugs, his hands moving in exaggerated gestures. “That’s why I never cared for dating, never got myself involved in that kind of shit, not until—”

He finally looks at you and, fuck, you wish he didn’t. You’re not sure if you have the strength to deal with such hurtful discourse. You lick your lips and take yet another deep breath, deciding to ignore his hurtful remark.

“I’m… so sorry you’re feeling this way,” you say, slowing down your words, trying your best not to show how hurt you were. This isn’t him, you tell yourself. So no need for that tightness in your throat. “But you have to understand it’s not because of me. It’s because of everything that you’ve gone through and how hard it’s to deal with them. I don’t blame you, it is hard. But this… us,” you gesture to the both of you. “This is a good thing. Despite all the pain and hurt we’ve both been through, we—”

“Please, stop,” he says, raising his hand and pressing his eyelids together. “I can’t be with you anymore. That’s it, that’s all—”

“So you don’t love me anymore?” you counter. You scoff in disbelief, shaking your head. Kazutora’s eyes shoot open and you notice his pupils shaking in fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

“I love you,” he breathes out, and for a moment you see the boy you fell in love with in his amber eyes that are quickly filling with tears. “I do love you but it’s killing me. I feel like I’m dying,” he chokes out. He looks away from you once more and starts tugging at his fingers. “I’m rotting inside and I don’t know what to do to make it better. I just want it to stop. I want it to stop and— I don’t want you around when I’m like this. I want to figure out what the hell is happening and—”

“But if you love me and I love you then why—”

“I’m not happy with you!”

Kazutora widens his eyes, scared by his loud outburst. He parts his lips, silently muttering nonsense as he tries to come up with words that can make it better. You lower your head and he wants to punch himself over it. He doesn’t want to make you cry, not after everything you’ve done for him. Is he really going to be the person that hurt the one that made a home for him in her embrace? Is he going to hurt the only person that was brave enough to pick up the pieces of his shattered soul?

“I’m…” he babbles, in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

You snort. “No, you really did mean it, Tora.”

He can sense the hurt and sadness in your voice, even if now you’re the one that won’t look at him. He watches helplessly as you stand up and walk towards the living room window in complete silence. The apron you took off is still on the couch and the vast memories of all the times he embraced you while you were wearing it quickly fill his mind.

He wishes there was a way he could keep you. But no matter how much he wants to, he knows there really is no other way. He’s thought about this countless times. He has gone to work without getting proper sleep, stared at his blank tv screen for hours on end, trying to come up with a plan where he could keep you. Was staying with the person he loved the most too much to ask?

No matter in how many shades of light or with how much care he handled the memory of you, the only way he could spare you the greatest amount of pain was to leave you— even if he knew he’d end up shattering your heart as well.

Kazutora notices the way your fingers tightly close around the edge of the window, your knuckles turning white. He had come to terms that he’d lose you today, yet he never expected for it to be this way. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. If hating him would mend your wounds faster, then he’d take it. Anything that would make the heartache he was causing you a little bit lighter. He knew you were the last person on Earth that deserved to go to bed carrying that much pain in her soul.

Looking out the window, you focus on a small girl walking her dog on the street. It’s a brown labrador and by the size of it, it’s barely a puppy. Rather than walk, it jumps on its four legs, his little head looking back at the girl every chance he has as he happily wags his tail. The pet shop Kazutora and Chifuyu work at immediately comes to mind. Would it be like this from now on? Small things eliciting memories of your days together without your consent and leaving a sour taste in your mouth?

You will need to find a new commute, you think, as you had been stopping by the pet shop on your way home for the past year. Is there another bus that you could take? As you try to remember the lines and their respective routes, you’re engulfed by the memory of the first time Kazutora dozed off with his head resting on your shoulder as you rode the bus together. You close your eyes and you can clearly see his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips as he slept, his fingers tightly intertwined with yours. His breathing is slow and his hands are cold and you wish you could go back, even for a minute and place a kiss on top of his head, since you wouldn’t be able to do so from now on.

Where exactly had you failed? You had just been complaining about your day when he dropped the bomb. Did you complain too much? Did you talk too much? Or was it you the one that was too much? You tried your best and supported him as much as you could but as it turns out, it hadn’t been enough. Good intentions were nothing but useless as you were now saying goodbye to the man you had loved the most.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Kazutora’s cold knuckles against your cheek, wiping your tears. You gasp, startled by his touch and take a couple steps back until your back hits the wall. It takes a few seconds for him to bring his hand now, unsure on what to do next.

He looks so scared and small— it fills your heart with frustration. Your whole body is screaming to take a step forward and comfort him, cradle him in your arms like so many times before, assure him he’s safe with you and that he doesn’t have to worry anymore. That, if you can still go home to each other at the end of a bad day, you can take anything life throws at you.

But that’s the thing. You’re not each other’s home anymore. You don’t get to bury your face in his neck and hum happily when his perfume reaches your nose. You don’t get to have him take a nap on your lap as you watch a series or feel his lips ghost against yours seconds before colliding in a kiss.

You hate it. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking down at his feet. “Please, don’t cry.”

“You know what, Kazutora?” you say, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You taste venom in your words, yet that doesn’t stop you. “If you’re not happy with me, then what are you doing here?”

He flinches at your words. Biting his inner cheek, he nods, still incapable of holding your gaze.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters. “I’ll go. I really am sorry.”

Kazutora turns on his heel, walking towards the door. Maybe it’s the way you know he’s not coming back this time that makes your desperation afloat. You don’t want him to go and you also know you can’t make him stay. And even if somehow you could find a way to keep him by your side, it would be worthless.

He’s just not happy with you.

“Are you happy somewhere else, though?” you ask, your words leaving your mouth before your head has time to process them. He stumbles on his feet and stops. “Because if you just can’t manage to be happy, then it’s not on me.”

Kazutora doesn’t have to turn for you to know he’s second guessing himself. The next seconds feel like years as he just stands there, mid-way to the front door, thoughts so messy and loud you can almost hear them.

“That doesn’t matter,” he finally says with his back to you. He closes his fists and you see his shoulders rising and falling as he takes a deep breath. “This way you don’t have to deal with... with the mess I am and—”

“Oh, please, I knew what I was getting into when I started dating an ex-convict.”

The weight of your words fall onto you the moment they leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, muttering a curse. It takes no time for you to walk towards Kazutora, standing between him and the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tora, I didn’t— you know I didn’t mean it that way. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears flowing free down your cheeks. Your wave your shaky hands, desperate to make your point across. “I just wanted to say I knew things would be difficult but I loved you— I love you and I—”

Kazutora shakes his head, a gentle yet sad smile on his face as he takes your hands in his. He holds them in front of his chest, squeezing them gently as they don’t stop trembling.

“Stop, it’s okay,” he assures you. “That’s what I am.”

“It’s not,” you protest. “I mean— yeah, but you’re more than that. You’re so much more than that. You’re caring, you’re noble— you’re so tender with the animals at your shop. You’re so sweet with me, always checking if I’ve eaten and offering to help me out if I have chores I need to do. You always come pick me up if I’m working late. You— you’re so fucking special to me.”

Kazutora’s lips form a tight line. “I wish I could see that,” he whispers.

“Then just— let me try. Let me try until you can look at yourself the way I do,” you almost beg. You let go of the hold he has on your hands to gently cradle his face. “I’ll do anything, but... don’t patronize me. I’m not a little girl. Whatever life throws at me, I’ve always been able to handle it. No— we’ll handle it. Together. Like it’s always been, you and me, I just— please, I don’t want you to go,” you cry. “We were going to be happy together, you were going to live with me and I’d give you half my drawers and half my closet and half… half everything. Please, don’t go. Don’t go, Tora.”

The sadness in his amber eyes only confirms what you’ve been fearing this whole time. You sob, your thumbs softly stroking his cheeks as you feel the world crumbling around you. This time, he doesn’t stop you, letting you cry as you hold his face, coming to terms with the fact he’s really leaving after all.

Your hands move to his hair, gently threading your fingers across his long, dark locks. Tracing the outline of his face, you push one of the dyed streaks away, only for it to fall back right where it was before. You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. He’s so pretty, you think, as the pads of your fingers gently caress his face. Your thumb grazes the space between his bottom lip and his chin and you dream of a world when he’s not saying goodbye, but rather falling asleep under your touch on your shared bed. You never knew loving someone as much as you loved him was possible-- yet the way your heart was crumbling in pieces was evidence of how much your soul was aching by being separated from the person it belonged to.

Sniffling, you rub your cheek against your shoulder to wipe your tears. You swallow before raising another question.

“Is this a… temporary thing? Or for good?” Your voice comes out in a whisper as you place down your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He wants nothing more than to put his arms around your body like so many times before, but he’s aware that it will only make things more difficult. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting in vain. You should move on.”

Kazutora realizes how much he hates the idea as it leaves his lips. The idea of you starting over with someone else rots in his tongue. He doesn’t want you to hold anyone’s face the way you were just holding his. He wants to keep you all to himself, to go to endless visits to the grocery shop, to watch you fall asleep during movie night and then pretend you didn’t, to massage your hands as you tell him about his day.

But you don’t deserve the guck that’s forming inside his mind. He knows it’s only a matter of time before it comes out pouring and reaches you. And he’ll be damned if he lets himself ruin the one good thing he’s had in his life for many years. He promised to himself he wouldn’t let his ill state of mind touch his loved ones. Never again.

He watches you nod and feels his heart shattering, even if everything is going just the way he intended. You rub his shoulders and look into his eyes, a sad smile on the pretty lips he would never get to kiss again.

“Okay,” you sigh. “We’ll end this but… when you leave, never doubt how loved you were. No— how loved you are. I don’t know what is coming for either of us but… I do know a part of my heart will always belong to you, no matter who I hold hands with. I will always love you, Tora.”

Your words are enough to finally break him. Kazutora clutches your body tightly against him as he loudly sobs against your shoulder. You hold him, tears flowing free once again as you try and soothe the man you love, leaving small kisses on the side of his head and whispering soft reassurances that it’s okay. It’s not, you tell yourself. It’s never going to be okay. But it has to be.

Carefully, you move him back to the sofa, helping him sit down while he refuses to let go of his hold on your body. You lean on the back pillows, both your arms cradling him while he whimpers like a small child. Kazutora clutches the fabric of your sweater with desperation, wishing there was a way he could stay with you.

Why does he have to give up the person that had put a smile back on his face? He can’t quite remember a time when his stomach had hurt out of laughter before he ever met you. Or when he’d experienced such peace as the night he stayed at your apartment and got to see your sleeping face first thing in the morning. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves you and, for all he knows, he may never love like this again. 

But he could never risk tainting you. He would never be able to forgive himself.

Kazutora softly pulls away from your embrace. His eyes are blotchy and red and you’re sure yours look the same or even worse. His nose is red, like it always does when he cries. It’s endearing, you think. Everything about him, from his hair, to his eyes, his hands— you’ve come to love every part of Kazutora. And that’s exactly why it’s so hard to let him go.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says in a whisper, resting the side of his head on the back pillows of the sofa.

“Like what?” you ask, gently pushing his hair away from his face and behind his ear.

“Like I matter to you. Like I’m making a huge mistake.”

You take a deep breath. Imitating him, you rest your head on the back pillows as well, so you’re both facing each other.

“I don’t— I don’t fully understand what you’re going through,” you admit, your eyes locked on his. “But if you need to… get away, then you should. You’ve been nothing but loving to me. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not. You deserve to fully experience all the beautiful things life has to offer.”

Silent tears fall from both your cheeks and his.

“I should be thankful I got to love you for this whole year. Because even if it ends this way… God, I loved you so much,” you sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “And I felt so loved. Isn’t that magical in itself? That we got to love each other at the same time?” you wonder with a sad smile.

Kazutora parts his lips, yet the doorbell interrupts him before he can even speak. You look at the front door, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment before you realize who’s probably there.

“Food’s here,” you say, wiping the tears from your face.

“Food?” Kazutora asks, confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Didn’t I tell you? The baking dish broke so I called that restaurant, the one with the burgers we like.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t really listening back then,” he admits with a pang of guilt. He sits up on the couch and turns his head at you. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You sit up as well. “I ordered for the two of us. C’mon, stay for dinner. Let’s… remember us this way, okay? Without so many tears and sadness,” you offer, tilting your head towards him. “I even ordered your favourite one.”

Kazutora rubs his face with his sleeve, erasing the trail of the tears he just shed. Looking at you, he nods, drawing a small smile on his lips.

“Okay. I’ll get it.”

He only walks a few steps towards the door before he feels you tugging at the back of his shirt. Turning around, he notices you’re standing right behind him. Your eyes look up to him, biting your bottom lip and not even a ghost of the smile you previously offered him.

“Before that, uh— I want you to know I… I mean it,” you firmly say, taking in all his facial features, loving how they soften every time he looks at you. “I’ll always love you. No matter how many years go by or if I ever stop being in love with you— I’ll still love you.”

“I’ll always love you too,” he replies, taking your hand and squeezing it softly. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You finally let out a soft chuckle and squeeze his hand back. The doorbell rings again and you walk around Kazutora to get to it. This time, he’s the one that stops you, not letting go of the hold of your hand. Looking back at him, you notice the soft pout in his lips and how they softly tremble, looming more tears.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, and you know you’re saying it to yourself as well. “Who knows, we might get together again someday. Have our own Casablanca moment. We’ll always have the pet shop,” you joke, trying to fight back to tears that threaten to fill your eyes as well.

It’s Kazutora’s turn to chuckle, only this time he does it along with you. You let go of his hand only to hold his face tenderly, a soft smile as you look at the man you love. Standing on your tiptoes, you press your lips against the beauty mark under his right eye. You feel his hands setting on the small of your back and watch his smile widen when you fall back on your heels.

Locking your fingers with him once more, you open the door.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #kazutora x reader #hanemiya kazutora x reader #kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora hanemiya #hanemiya kazutora #tokyo revengers #kazutora angst #tokyo revengers angst #kazutora x you #kazutora x y/n #hanemiya kazutora x you #hanemiya kazutora x y/n

[chemicalpink]

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub​ monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

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