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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

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Authors Note: So pleased that part one got such a positive response. We love Wes. Please feel free to leave a comment or reblog if you're enjoying it, also if you want adding to the tag list for future parts/updates just lmk 🥰

Summary: Joe and reader have never seen eye to eye, growing up together and even further along the line in adulthood. There’s always been something lurking in the back of their minds. It couldn’t be, they share a mutual hatred and can’t stand the sight of one another. Surely, it’s been a long time coming but will the tension finally break into something more beautiful? Time tells all truths.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: Smut but not what you'd expect, Joe and reader showing how much they 'hate' each other, could call it angst, nosy reader being curious. Cliff hanger? Word Count: 4k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @daleyeahson @ali-r3n @quinnypixie @thefemininemystiquee @winchester-angel @ayooooo0 @wonderheartz @avobabe87 @palomahasenteredthechat @chickennug90 @emma77645 @pepsimunson @figmentofquinn @ches-86 @sugarheart-riot @shawnamae87 @joeqnz @kayleeelena97 @etherealglimmer @birdysaturne @freakymunson @aol19 @coley0823 @lma1986 @eddiesgirls12 @poisonedluv @aysheashea @credulouskhaleesi @xlilithb

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

"Take it like you know you should. Fucking slut." Joe whimpered as he struck you with another harsh slap to your ass. You were bent over your kitchen counter top as he ploughed in and out of you at immense speed. His finger tips moulding into your skin from the way he held you tight, squeezing your skin into an extremely pale tone.

You tried your hardest not to show you were enjoying the way he fucked you, but he did it well and you hated to admit it. Your thighs were shaking, your ass cheeks red raw matching the sting from the palm of Joe's hand of each time he'd struck you. He making a loud and thorough attempt at making you his through the way of physical interaction, there was no doubt he made a good job of it.

"You going to cum for me or what?" Joe reached over for your hair loosely dangling over your back, pulling at it in an almost violent state, ragging you at each part of your body that he could manage. "Or am I going to have to force it out of you?"

You let out the biggest moan his ears had ever been graced with, after holding in every ounce of pleasure you were feeling; you couldn't possibly take it anymore. The way you ached matched the desperation you were eager to let go, your cunt shook, your body sweating, your breath panting. Your fingers found your clit which you rubbed at vigorously, trying to let the pleasure of pleasing yourself take over Joe's length erratically thrusting in and out of you. An out of the question task failing you since the more you tried, he would be one step ahead of you, going harder.

"God you fucking repulse me." You bite down on your bottom lip, the soft pink turning a ghost white from the way your teeth sink into it. You needed to say it out loud to be able to confirm to yourself that you were only enjoying the immense seeing to you were receiving.

"Feelings mutual, but you're being such a good little slut for me right now. Can't take it that this cock fucks you so well can you?"

Another sharp breath felt you gaining consciousness, you sat up from your laid out position, the morning light hitting you square in the face since you had failed to close your curtains before you had groggily forced yourself into bed after last night's ordeal, the whole day in fact was just too much for one person to bare.

Your head was reeling from such a dream that you were trying to tell yourself it was clearly a nightmare, to be fucked by someone you had such dislike for was not an option; nor in reality or sleep. You mouthed an oh god no as you relived the impossible fantasy over and over again.

You were so sure that you'd never had these types of thoughts about him before, the ones that you could remember anyway. All of these years that you were adamant that there was no chance at even a sincere smile to be formed, not even a nice word between the two of you, now you were in full swing dreaming about Joe. In the most sickening of circumstances to you as well, it was only a dream though right? It wasn't real, it will never be real nor palpable to even dare think about your sworn enemy in this way ever again. But you know all too well that you can't stop dreams from occurring; never mind reoccurring.

You gave up with the thought of even trying to go back to sleep even though you felt so achy and exhausted from yesterday, even still after being in a deep sleep; you know felt dirty from the thoughts that were eroding your brain. A nauseous feeling at the pit of your stomach which you couldn't decide if it was hunger or the guilt of the forbidden concept of your delusion.

Taking a shower first was the only thing that felt right to do, a point you were making to yourself of washing away your sins and letting them fall down the drain, ridding all of the revolting thoughts of your interesting night's sleep. You got yourself ready, leaving the flat to go and get some breakfast, admitting to yourself that you couldn't leave the packed boxes which contained all of your belongings any longer unattended to, no matter how long it took, you'd be spending your day making your place your own, your very own little home. An enjoyable first for you.

After a good hour of pampering yourself, moisturising, doing your hair and make up and finding a weather appropriate outfit, you grabbed your bag and set off out to go and get yourself a hearty little breakfast. You were not entirely bothered about what you ate, you were hungry for almost anything. Your stomach rumbled again at the very thought, you were absolutely starving, an eyes bigger than your belly type of situation where you could of ravaged everything in sight. A little ironic considering as soon as you walked out of the front door of the complex you were greeted by the mild spring air, but to your left was the very man who had ravaged you himself in the figment of your imagination.

Joe stood with his back to you, whilst Wesley stood at his opposite side, looking up to the sky and basking in the morning sun before his head shot over to the door opening and watching you appear.

"Morning." Wesley called over, you glanced over from your field of vision not even bothering to give them the time of day for the flashbacks of you and Joe were now imminent even from just seeing the back of him. You continued to walk the distance to the gate which surrounded the complex so that you were able to leave the awkward moment as quickly and as quietly as you could.

"Ignorant." Joe muttered loud enough for you to hear before taking a drag of his cigarette, he knew he was pushing your buttons immediately as you stopped in your tracks at the very word that he spoke, only to be described as calling you out. You weren't sure if going at him all guns blazing was the right thing to do nor even looking him in the eye which you knew rightly he didn't even deserve your gaze or indeed your time of day.

"Excuse me?" Yeah you chose to answer back when you probably shouldn't have, but who on earth does he think he is?

"She speaks." Joe smirked over at you and you grimaced at the very remembrance of seeing that same wicked feature in your dreams, the one where he was enjoying railing the shit out of you and watching you writhe in his grip.

"What was that?" You speak even louder and make sure it's over the top of his forced reply. "You're a prick?" Wesley did a hop skip and a jump, planting himself in the form of stone in front of Joe when you came storming over with every intention to square up to him. Why was it only now after so many years of feud that this was your interpretation of your first solid and flowing conversation with one another.

"Takes one to know one." Joe put his hands onto Wesley's shoulders, the couple of inches of height difference that stood between them ensured Joe lifting his feet up to truly make sure that he met your eyes with his, with all intense and purpose.

"Will both of you quit it?" Wesley could only suggest such a thing, if there was one thing was true it was that both of you were quintessentially stubborn. "What is your problem with each other honestly?" Wesley flicked his head back between Joe and you, your gazes not even touching his line of vision, just fully focussed on one another.

It's probably about the longest period of time you've spent actually looking at Joe in all your years of knowing him, your features soften a little when you really look at the whole detail of him standing before you. He may irritate the life out of you but there's no denying he's impossibly good looking. You huffed a huge sigh out loud at the way he puffed on his cigarette, you watched carefully as his lips hugged it tight, the smoke inhaling out of his nose like some form of fire breathing dragon.

"Could you please kill off the environment with your toxic fumes somewhere a little further away from our building?" You hissed.

Joe took his last drag, inhaling as much as he could before blowing the smoke out straight into your direction and flicking the cigarette but in the other direction, you were never as repulsed by him as you were now, yet the feeling in your stomach wasn't as bitter as it had previously been. You needed to shake off this revolting feeling as soon as you could, it was positively unbearable.

"Do you always complain this much?" Joe asked, his smirk was back in fully swing, harrowing every skin cell, letting every baby hair on the back of your neck stand up, the direct way he was trying to dig at you was working and he knew it. Wesley rolled his eyes, clearly giving up in what was to be a back and fourth contest of insults and protests against each other until one of you backed down. It wasn't even 10am and you'd already had enough of today. Wesley moved to go back into the building and left you both alone, hoping to god you wouldn't start scrapping and keep it as PG as you could.

He was the first to speak out now that you were unoccupied together. "What is your problem?" Joe folded his arms, pushing himself to lean against the wall, ushering one foot up to sit firmly against it. You eyed him from head to toe, clutching at your bag you had flung over your shoulder.

"No problem here." You uttered.

"Whatever love." There was that smirk again, you mentally shook your head trying to rid yourself the thought of finding him attractive in his current stance. You took note of the patronising pet name also, not the time Joe, not the time.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" You had to ask about the smirk regardless, you needed to know why. It was a look he'd even given you back in your school days, every time you'd pass a sarcastic stare toward him or he'd be in your bee line; a tactic to clearly wind you up was this god damn beautiful smug look.

His face dropped into a straight line as if he was playing stupid with you, like he just wanted you to describe the exact demeanour you were referring to. "Like what?" Yeah he wasn't dumb, he knew exactly what you meant. You peered down to the floor before throwing an agitated sigh back. "Oh, you mean this?" The egotistical bastard does it again as you stand giving him the most sarcastic round of applause.

"Yeah stop doing that, not a good look for you." You were lying.

"So you do have a problem." Your almost on queue scoff and eye roll made him chuckle, maturity where? You had to walk away, you had to remove yourself from the situation, the situation being the exasperating Mr. Joseph Quinn, twat. He called out to you as he watched you walk away, saying your name in the most intolerable of ways, shooting a quick glance at your curves that hugged onto your outfit before he walked over to the entrance which would take him to back to his flat. Before he'd stepped one foot through the door, his finally words to you made you seethe, it was a surprise that you weren't ready to punch a wall; never mind his perfect face.

"Come to me and let me know whenever you're ready Y/N."

You stuck your middle finger up in plain sight as you moved on not offering him the chance nor ammunition and certainly not even looking back towards Joe and giving him the satisfaction to smirk like that at you again.

You took your breakfast to go, breathing in the scents of the coffee and pastry which calmed you instantly from the quaint little café you'd located just down the road from your flat complex. You decided to eat it in the comfort of your own space, more than likely if you had not chosen to do that, you wouldn't of returned for hours due to not wanting to be in any closer proximity to Joe. Or even that you'd of procrastinated in unpacking so your main job of the day would not get done; something you were quite eager to do and had already set the task of promising yourself that you'd get the majority completed by the end of the day.

You'd of looked like a wild animal to anyone watching practically stuffing the food and drink into your mouth in unison, not taking a single breathe of air as you inhaled it almost in one. You'd felt much calmer by the time you'd strolled at the pace of a snail back to your new home. Losing track of time was a good thing today to keep your mind pre occupied off anything but Joe, you kept letting recollections of your dream slip back every time you entered the kitchen, the very spot where the unlawful scenes of filth which played out in your memory.

As night fell and you'd been on your feet all day dragging boxes, objects and furniture about, you stood with your hands on your hips with quite an enthusiastic stare at how well you had done, an approving nod as you looked around. Everything was now in it's place and available to be used at your leisure, there were a few things you'd need to buy brand new, but it could absolutely be done within the next few weeks as you had the majority of what you needed to help suffice.

About 10pm you settled down with a blanket over you, comfy clothes intact, freshly faced with your hair neatly done up in a bun equipped from your dampened hair from your newest shower, feet up on the coffee table with a glass of wine you'd treated yourself to and a Chinese take out. You were not one to usually eat that late but time had escaped you. You scrolled through Netflix hoping to find something, but spent most of the time shovelling noodles in your mouth to even care in the end. By the time you'd finally chosen something to watch, your eyes were closing shut. Typical.

You weren't sure how long you'd dozed off for, you'd woken up with a startle when you heard the wine glass dropping from your hand and straight down onto to the floor. You could only assume it was the middle of the night when you stirred and your nostrils were clogged with the scent of the left over Chinese freezing cold bunched into a corner on your plate, your blanket now half hanging off of you and your head was leaning somewhere between your shoulder and on the corner of the cushion placed under your head.

You lifted yourself from the shape on the sofa which had formed from your body being stuck in the same position for so long. Picking up the glass and your plate you headed over to the kitchen to wash up and regain the cleanliness and beauty of your spotless place.

Wiping down the sparkling spotless dishes and utensils before placing them back in their rightful setting looking just like new, you gazed at the counter top, a whole shiver running down your spine from the sudden reminder that you were back right at the location where the dream had took place. Ugh. Joe's annoyingly beautiful face was right back where you didn't want it again; in your mind as easy as that.

"Get a grip of yourself Y/N for goodness sake." You spoke out to yourself, the first sign of insanity is talking to yourself and Joe was definitely driving you to the point of delirium in the last 48 hours.

You moved through to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and letting your hair loose in order to finally go to bed, closing your curtains this time making sure you would without doubt would not be woken up by anything else tonight. You got into bed, instantly livid at yourself when you realised you had still left the television on, front door unlocked. You mentally slapped yourself across the back of your own head, wafting the sheets that you'd just tucked around yourself and stepped back into your fluffy slippers to go and finish the tasks which would eat you alive and deprive you from a good nights sleep if you didn't do.

Just as you moved to the door you could hear unsettled noises from outside in the corridor, you furrowed your brow as you couldn't help but sneak a peak through the little peep hole. Upon your sights, you found Joe and a rather pretty girl stumbling and holding onto the walls from either side. Suddenly, you watched on to see her being pushed up against his and Wesley's own door right in your bee line. You witnessed the girl being caged in, his body pressing into her with such force in what you could almost see was him grinding against her, making out like a couple of horny teenagers. Anger burnt inside your chest, your heart raced and you just couldn't take your eye away.

You followed every move he made, every place his hands glided over every crevice of her body. Wow. Why doesn't he just fuck her here and now? They're almost there anyway. His hands come to lock onto her wrists, slamming them above her head as he kisses down onto her neck, making his way down to the bare sight of her cleavage, on show and clearly calling out for him to touch. You heard her ugly little whimpers and Joe's shushing for her to be quiet just in case he was to 'wake anyone.' How fucking considerate of him.

There was a strange sensation burning down below, your stomach knotting through the fear of nausea and excitement. Biting your lip, another mental slap in the face came when you pushed yourself away from the door. What the fuck are you doing?

It wasn't enough. You heard the door opening and closing behind them followed by a loud giggle. You opened the door as quietly as you could, letting curiosity get the better of you, you only wanted to hear how shit he probably was in bed right? Nothing like the Joe in your dream which seemed like he could pleasure a woman in seconds, no absolutely not, the real Joe could never.

You tiptoed across the corridor to his front door, kneeling down and pressing your ear against it. The first time you heard his moan, a whole burst of electricity flowed through you, a whole variety of questions now burning through your head of why you were slightly jealous that this wasn't you, that she wasn't you. And why were you so turned on by the noises he made, this had to be another of your outrageous dreams. Except it wasn't.

You could make out the way their lips smacked together in an open mouthed kiss, even distinctly catch the sound of their clothes falling to the floor, they'd obviously not made it very far away from the front door; only feet away from where you were observing silently. Just when you were zoned out from where you'd placed yourself, you heard the noises distancing themselves from you, the groaning and slightly erotic giggling coming to a close when what you could only assume was Joe's bedroom door slamming shut.

You were thrown out of your cursive listening when you heard footsteps approaching from around the corner, you'd missed the sound of the lift doors opening and closing. Standing up as if you'd already been caught, in slow motion you couldn't get up to your feet fast enough when the figure moved around the corner rapidly. He stared at you bent half up right, staying put where he was stood so he could get a full of view of you in your nightwear.

Wesley...

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I-I-I was coming to tell y-you to keep it d-down." You stuttered out such a stupid excuse, does that warrant you getting up off of the floor? Idiot. He saw right through your bullshit, clearly.

"Why are you really out here?" He asked quietly.

"I could hear commotion so I came to see what was going on and when the door shut I could hear slamming around in your flat, but it didn't sound good so I came out to investigate." An absolute bear faced liar is what you were. Wrong. You were listening to Joe get it on with his one night stand and in a full state of envy of the female who was with him. That's what you should've really said. That's also bullshit though right? You can't stand Joseph Quinn, you hate him with every fibre in your being. Then why are you pulling such a stunt that would insinuate that you don't hate him quite as much as you thought.

You could feel all of the colour which was draining from your face as Wesley pulled a look which made you feel so uneasy, a kind of caught in the act, what are you going to do now look.

"Right, got you. Well as far as I know he brought a girl back from the bar, is the coast clear and free for me to go in without seeing my best mate at it darling?" He was asking you if the coast was clear? For fucks sake he really knew what you were doing out here, you were hoping there'd be a slight glimpse that he'd be dumbfounded, it's almost confirmed that what Wesley wrote in his note was entirely correct; you can't hate him forever.

You moved over to your door, almost hugging your body to it as a place of safety as Wesley moved on closer, unlocking his own door before turning back to you.

"Maybe you don't hate Joe as much as you thought you did." You choked on your own saliva as you let out an over dramatic laugh.

"Next joke." You muttered, your eyes firmly staying put toward the floor, this spoke a million words when you couldn't even look him in the eyes now from the sheer embarassment.

"Think about it. You were out here for a reason Y/N. Don't hold in the feelings that are clearly screaming to be let out."

"Promise you won't tell Joe I was out here?" You ignored his impossible advice, Wesley could almost hear the begging in your voice, he nodded, opening up his door fully now.

"Then give him a chance." He tilted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders before closing the door behind him.

Was that even an option?

#tell me how you hate me #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine

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jwirecs · 1 year

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Recommended NCT Fics of January 2023💖

hello, hello! here are my nct recs of january! hopefully these beautiful stories will have more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

3, 2, 1 || @justalildumpling💕✅

at this point of your pathetically unrequited crush on your popular friend, it didn’t faze you when you found out that he wasn’t going to be at the same NYE party as you. but when he suddenly turned up to come find you did you start wondering that maybe you weren’t the only one with harboured feelings.

Designer’s Dream || @woozten-x💕💔✅

You lived a different life with your best friend. He is the prince with a reputation due to his social status and you are a university student with a dream to become a fashion designer…To you, he is a flower with thorns you grown to love.

Hit Or Miss || @hyuckbeam 💕💔✅

you’re given a bet by your own best friend to finally earn you some kissing experience at the ripe age of 18, but what if he’s the one you’ve been wanting to kiss all along?

Lavender Haze || @springdaybreaks💕✅💯💯

your subscribers anonymously agree that they could see the progress of you and jeno's relationship in your videos. / or in which jeno appears in your youtube videos.

The Moon and Stars Seem Awfully Cold and Bright || @p0ckykiss💕✅

mark wouldn't call himself a christmas hater, but this year all this just doesn't feel right. until it does.

Bucket List || @ooshu 💕💔✅💯

you created one last fairytale in new york city. doyoung was never good with words. you asked him to hold your hand until the clock strikes 12 am. he was willing to play your prince charming.

Forever Yours || @lisired 🔞💔✅

Thirst for exhilaration and a stupid dare brings you, your boyfriend Haechan, and your friends to the eerie camping grounds of Chimera - the name of a town rumored to be occupied by a number of vengeful, lurking spirits. But nothing is as it seems in this ghost town.

Free Trial Wedding Style || @liliansun 💕🔄

when a random, cute, guy comes up to you and practically asks for you to follow along, you do so without much thought. that is until you get home and see he’s your new neighbor who just might need your help a little more than you expected.

We Met In April || @onyourhyuck💔✅💯

Yuta finds you crying in the boys locker rooms and finds out why.

Dear Mr. Cupid || @justalildumpling 💕✅💯💯

it’s no lie that haechan only started his college matchmaking business due to his nosy personality. it’s also no lie that he was a little jealous of everyone he had helped out as he had no love life of his own. well, that was until his childhood friend moved back and mysterious love notes started appearing in his matchmaking inbox… addressed to HIM?!

Perfect Little Toy || @loudstan 🔞💔✅💯

Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.

Do check out all of the other NCT Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

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theravenkin · 1 year

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I posted 3,886 times in 2022

That's 1,789 more posts than 2021!

90 posts created (2%)

3,796 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@herondaleoffspring

@neil-puppy-josten

@neilthefoxjosten

@squash1

@neil-jortsen

I tagged 823 of my posts in 2022

#aftg - 119 posts

#andrew minyard - 114 posts

#all for the game - 110 posts

#neil josten - 109 posts

#andreil - 91 posts

#the foxhole court - 53 posts

#the raven cycle - 48 posts

#kevin day - 47 posts

#trc - 43 posts

#pynch - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#(im not very good at it but i love when my mutuals who are all so smart make posts about it and then i can reblog it and say sooooo true <3

My Top Posts in 2022:

ok i'm back from my disappearance. here's some more "aftg as shit my team has said" as an offering

neil: wow, aaron's actually kinda feisty.

andrew: sure, but not feisty enough to get out of a headlock.

aaron and andrew: *intense sibling rivalry stare*

kevin: we are /not/ losing to that team. they're wearing /green/. if we lose to a team wearing green, i swear to god-

dan: okay guys, big game today! Please show up with a good attitude even if you're on your period or can’t breathe!

neil: yeah, they may think they're the shit, but look at the scoreboard. scoreboard doesn't lie, bitch!

kevin: ...neil...we're losing.

neil: well, yeah, but only by a little bit.

neil: *getting a little too intense while watching the game from the bench*

wymack: neil, have you ever- this is a genuine question, coming from a place of genuine concern- have you ever considered just...trying to calm down? have you ever tried that? i really need you to calm the fuck down.

473 notes - Posted May 9, 2022

cant get over the idea of remus taking regulus under his wing. remus seeing through reg's arrogant ice prince facade and seeing a scared little baby gay underneath. remus slowly getting reg to open up to him, to show his blushy awkward teenager self for once. regulus spilling all his insecurities, his secret crushes, his embarrassing interactions with remus. remus hyping reg up when he likes somebody, encouraging him to be himself, teaching him how to flirt. remus teasing him about being "slytherin's resident heartbreaker" and regulus going bright red every time ("ugh, lupin, shut up."). reg having One (1) interaction with the person he likes and SPRINTING to tell remus immediately ("we touched hands, remus" "oh, you minx!" "shut the fuck up"). remus and reg being able to share a Look and immediately breaking out into giggles. sirius HATING IT. (james finding it kind of adorable.)

sirius: what the fuck are you two on about now??

reg and remus: NOTHING. god. don't worry about it. so nosy. *suspicious giggling*

just. remus being like the "fun aunt" to reg. god i'm so obsessed with this someone help.

605 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

not only does andrew read books; he annotates books but only by underlining every other sentence and writing "gay" in the margins

636 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

hc that kevin has a really hard time remembering to knock instead of just walking into a room because there was no privacy in the Nest and he has no concept of boundaries due to the way he was raised there.

do with that what you will.

773 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

something i just really like to think about is neil starting to show his actual personality to the rest of the foxes post-canon and them being shocked.

before they knew about everything, he had to keep up the shy, quiet, ordinary, unsuspecting neil josten act. but post-canon, i like to think that he lets loose a little, allows his real personality to show. he actually lets them see ruthless, blunt, hot-tempered neil josten.

i believe in neil having a very specific "im about to raise hell" expression where he does his scary smile and his eyes go absolutely feral, and the others learn that if they see that expression, they need to step aside. also, i think the others might underestimate how good of a liar neil is. he'll have them convinced that he's innocent but andrew will insist that he's lying; the others, at first, think andrew's being mean and bitter, neil's too sweet to be faking this time, why would he lie about something small like this? ...and then neil's expression completely changes from "innocent child" to "chaos demon" frighteningly quickly. it's absolutely terrifying. andrew sees the horror on the other's faces and just goes, see? gullible morons.

what makes this even better: i like to think that once andrew sees that neil won't be pushed around anymore, and also that neil won't let his people be pushed around either, that andrew feels like he can let down his guard a little bit. like...he feels like there is someone who is willing to and capable of protecting him for once. so andrew might actually relax a little bit...while neil gets more unhinged. i just love this trope and all the possibilities.

like, imagine neil does or says something shocking to the upperclassmen, and they turn to andrew and are like "??? are you gonna control him??" because they're used to andrew being controlling over his people. but andrew doesn't feel the need to control neil when he's like this (tbh he's not fully sure that he could). so he just shrugs nonchalantly and stares blankly (and, if you look closely, admiringly) at neil while he wreaks havoc.

it's just like...wait til the upperclassmen realize that neil is far more willing to fuck shit up than andrew ever was. wait until they realize that andrew just wants to drink hot chocolate and talk shit with his therapist while neil crosses people off his hit list. you know?

2,388 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false

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slightly-smarter-nat · 2 years

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A Really Bad Idea: The Scarlet Apprentice || Wanda Maximoff

☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆ ☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of choking; mentions of pain; mentions of killing; mentions of mind control. Also Wanda’s signature head tilt mentioned - we all know what that means! If I have missed any warnings, please let me know.

Word Count: 2098 words.

Summary: A visit to ‘The Nosy Neighbour’- when all else fails, there’s only one person Wanda can turn to…

A/N: Part 4 of ‘The Scarlet Apprentice’. I couldn’t go on without adding our favourite nosy neighbour to the mix- meaning I’ve had ‘Agatha All Along’ playing in my head, non stop all morning. I hope you all enjoy!

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Translation: “Detka” - ‘baby’.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Masterlist

GIF not mine

A Really Bad Idea: The Scarlet Apprentice-

“Well don’t just stand there dear, come on in!” The stranger waves Wanda into her home eagerly. Wanda charges forward, not even casting a second glance in your direction.

You let out a depressed sigh, hating how Wanda was treating you, “here goes nothing” you let out before following the two women inside.

You slowly stride further into the house, taking in your surroundings. Wow, you thought the outside was something, the inside is just as alluring, if not more.

Exotic patterns line the walls of the residence, giving it that element of quirkiness. Various trinkets line the shelves and furnishings leading into the main living area. You hang back a moment to admire some of the minor details displayed around the house, curiosity getting the better of you. A collection of subjective ornaments fill a table placed in the foyer of the house, the intricacy of their arrangement warning you off from touching them- you’re in enough trouble as it is, adding broken relics to the list would be detrimental for your chance of making up with Wanda. You just hope she fills in the gaps to what you’ve supposedly done that’s so terrible; and soon, this tension is driving you crazy.

You’re about to venture off to locate Wanda and ‘the stranger’ when you notice an open, black, velvet box. Inside it houses a beautiful Vintage Brooch, gracefully laid upon a purple cushion. You ghost your fingertips over it when you feel an electric shock shoot through your hand; you gasp and pull away your hand instantly, reflexes kicking in. Before you can investigate the suspected heirloom, a resounding voice grabs your attention.

“There you are Hon, Wanda sent me to come and fetch you. Oh, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Agnes, owner of this house and surely your new best friend.” She finishes her sentence with a nudge to your side and an exaggerated wink.

You let out a humoured breath, trying to think of the right words to say to push the conversation forward, “Sorry I would have introduced myself at the front door but I got distracted by your lovely possessions. I’m y/n.” You hold your hand out to shake Agnes’ but to your surprise she hesitates, displaying a conflicted look on her face, whilst maintaining frantic eye contact.

“Agnes, are you okay?” You press slightly, wondering if you did something wrong. She stands there for a few seconds before closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly, providing you with an intense smile.

“Okie Dokie, Artichokie; let’s get you settled, follow me Hon.” Agnes attempts to lead you further into the Household, but you stand there with conflicting emotions. You are trying to process the sudden change in atmosphere, confusion clouds your thoughts, you wonder what caused Agnes to zone out like that; it’s as though someone flipped a switch.

“Keep up slowpoke, we wouldn’t want you to get lost on the way, would we?” And with that, you finally make your move into the living area of the house.

You enter the room to see Wanda has already taken her place on the main piece of faded upholstery, centring the room. You decide to linger for a few seconds, trying to determine the best course of action to approach Wanda until Agnes speaks up, “Come on Buttercup, take a seat, we don’t bite-well I can't promise anything.” You whip your head around to face Agnes in surprise, trying to decipher whether you heard her correctly, or whether you’re just imagining things.

Wanda gently grasps your hand and tugs, “Love, take a seat for me.” She pulls you down all the way to sit next to her. You feel your whole body relax, relieved that Wanda was talking to you again. You test the waters by giving her a gentle smile, to which she returns. She places a hand on your cheek as she leans in closer and rests her forehead against yours, “I’m sorry about what happened before Detka, I was just so angry and scared, I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“It’s okay Wands, just please explain to me what I did and how we can fix whatever this whole situation is.” You’re about to question further until a jovial voice picks up.

“Isn’t that darling, I would say I could relate but my Husband, Ralph wouldn’t do a sweet thing like that even if you planted the idea in his head…” Agnes brings herself to a stop, causing you and Wanda to glance over. She has a similar expression on her face to the one she displayed earlier- conflict. She looks like she’s trying to bring herself out of some sort of trance, you feel Wanda shift beside you, straightening up her position causing you to glance over. You’re convinced you see a flash of red pass through Wanda’s eyes, but you choose to ignore it when you notice Agnes standing up and straightening out the invisible creases on her outfit.

“Anywho, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article called- you know what, I will just go grab it for you sweet-“ Agnes is in the process of making her way out of the room; Wanda sighs and raises her hand, manoeuvring her fingers skilfully to release a red tendril of her powers. You’re about to ask Wanda what she just conjured until you see Agnes return, only she looks… different. She looks threatening. Not like the courteous and welcoming woman you were speaking to only moments ago.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in, little formal don’t you think, help me out sweetheart?” Agnes gestures to her clothing, her newfound drapes coating her in an intense shade of Purple. Wanda rolls her eyes before flicking her wrist again, changing Agnes’ clothes into a modern day, casual outfit-Purple seems to be her signature colour.

Agnes moves back to her previous space, making a dramatic effort to drop down on one of her unoccupied seats, she crosses her legs, resting her head on her hand-she seems disinterested.

“Well, well, well young lady it looks like you brought me a treat; I promise I’ll take good care of them- well until I get bored of them of course.” Agnes finishes off her remark with a sinister smirk.

Wanda tilts her head, you widen your eyes at this, knowing full well what tends to follow her signature move- you’re just thankful you’re not on the receiving end of it. “Watch your tone Agatha, I’d hate to change you back to your desired role so soon.” Wanda doesn’t look phased, she knows she’s in control of this situation, wait, did she just say Agatha?

“Wands, what’s going on?” You question, slightly panicked; not being used to such a situation, your mind starts to produce answers you’re not sure you like the sound of-this isn’t good.

“Don’t talk y/n” Wanda commands.

“Ahhh the infamous y/n, Wanda has told me all about you. The name’s Agatha Harkness, lovely to finally meet you, dear.” Agatha moves her position forward in her chair, seemingly more interested in the conversation.

“Infamous?” You question.

“Well of course, our Wanda here hasn’t been best pleased with your behaviour recently- oh yes, she has told me all about your, what do you call them Hon, ‘episodes’?” Agatha smiles triumphantly, knowing she’s getting under Wanda’s skin.

Wanda’s eyes are consumed in a red glow, she’s slowly becoming worked up in Agatha’s presence, “I will not warn you again, I have come to ask you a…favour.” You look at Wanda in disbelief, why wouldn’t she have discussed this with you beforehand?

“Hey toots, you’re the one who’s keeping me here against my will, forcing me to play along in your twisted fantasy, don’t taint me as your villain. Does y/n know about your previous time in Westview? How about we take a moment to reminisce, it will be a gas for all involved.” Agatha leans back in her chair, clearly losing interest in the conversation.

In a split second, Wanda conjures a tendril resembling that of a rope; she places it around Agatha’s neck, keeping a steady pressure. Agatha’s demeanour changes, she seems to understand that Wanda is in no mood for games.

“Like I said, I have come to ask you for a favour, and since you have no powers to retaliate I suggest you listen. I will not hesitate to crush your airways if you keep pushing me. It’s your call Agatha, maintain the ability to breathe, or spend your last few minutes of life desperately trying to piece back together your pharynx.” Wanda waits patiently for Agatha’s decision.

You remain on edge, hoping Agatha gives up her determination to agitate Wanda in any way possible.

“Good girl, I knew you had it in you, now drop your pretty little sparkles and let’s see what I can do for you.” Wanda hesitates for a moment, but drops the force.

Agatha makes a point to readjust her shirt collar, “You’ve never brought your Pet before, this must be serious.” Agatha turns her gaze to you, you start to squirm under her harsh stare. You’re starting to miss ‘Agnes’ right about now.

Wanda interrupts Agatha, “it’s getting worse, the episodes that is. Y/n will lose total control, at first I thought they were aware, but now I’m not so sure.” Wanda casts her gaze down to her feet. This is the first time you’re hearing any reference to these ‘episodes’.

“When was the last time they had an episode?” Agatha enquiries.

“A day and a half ago, it took them longer to come out of the trance, it was like someone else was in control. I managed to place a disruption charm on y/n to prevent them from using their powers. I don’t know how long it will last, The Darkhold’s power is advancing too quickly.” Wanda finishes, slightly hugging her own body as she goes on.

You don’t even attempt to interrupt, you can’t process the idea of you having episodes of time where you’re not aware of your actions. Is this what The Darkhold’s magic was really capable of?

“Ohhh Sweetiepie, you really have upset the ‘Chosen One’, you must have done something really impressive.” Agatha almost sounds amused at the situation. “I don’t see the issue, it’s what you wanted, your ‘Scarlet Apprentice’ by your side.”

“You know I’d never want to put y/n in a position where they are seconds from killing their own friends, or family. You have unique understandings about the lost segment of The Darkhold, can you teach me its findings, allow me to understand how to help y/n in the safest way possible?” You’re heartbroken in the way Wanda speaks about you, as if you’re this horrendous version of yourself. If it was that bad, you’d remember it-right?

“What do I have to gain from this? It’s not like you will give me what I really want. Why should I help you benefit your life further?” Agatha seems to be in disbelief that Wanda could be so desperate, that she is seeking her guidance.

“Your freedom, I will reinstate your powers, I won't bother you, you will be free to do as you please. Only if you help me and y/n understand and control all aspects of ’The Scarlet Apprentice’. Do we have a deal?” Wanda reaches for your hand, acknowledging that this may be a lot to take in all at once. You can't help but wonder if you’re a lost cause, whether any of this will truly work. Your decision is made when Agatha puts forward her answer.

Agatha lets out an unnerving laugh before saying, “Oh I’m going to have so much fun with you my Sweet, let's get to work on your first lesson shall we.”

Something tells you that this is a bad idea, a really bad idea.

*Meanwhile*

Parts of the rubble begin to move, revealing a golden sparkle of light. Suddenly a blast sends any loose debris into the air, releasing the trapped Sorcerer. Uncasting a protection spell, he staggers to his feet, processing his surroundings. The Sorcerer notices a vantage point, slowly making his way towards it. Pain ridden, he barely makes it to the top. Centring himself, he gathers what little strength he has to shout the only name he can concern himself with at this time:

“Wong!?”

After several tries, he collapses to the ground, utterly exhausted. Stephen knows Wong is under that rubble somewhere, he just needs to find him.

Taglist: @sheisnotalone @lainjupi

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Do Us Part

Warnings: nonconsent and rape; oral, fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments and mental/emotional abuse, age gap (Peter is 24/25 and reader is 35/36)

This is dark!Peter Parker x 30s/’older’ reader and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find it hard to accept that not all good things last as you face the changes in your marriage, yourself, and your marriage.

Note: I wanted to write Peter again but also I’ve seen this nonsense about how 30+ writers are too old for fanfic which is dumb af. And I wanted to turn the age gap trope a little so that it wasn’t the reader being the younger one in the relationship. I label it older reader but I don’t think being in your 30s is old tbh (my bf is 36 so pfft). It was all just a conglomeration of circumstances that inspired a deceivingly sweet dark Peter and I hope you like it. Also it’s 7.4k so a bit of a longer read.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You walked slowly along the transparent shelves set into the pristine white walls of the cosmetics section. The department store was a haze of distant voices and the chirp of scanners as customers milled the aisles and waited their turn to check out. You whiled away your time looking at things you’d never buy as you waited for your husband to return from the men’s department.

You thought of the sparse make-up bag under your sink and the liners and shades you hadn’t used in years. They were likely expired and better tossed in the bin. You hovered along the crystal bottle of designer scents and stopped to test a particular blush-tinted fragrance.

You set the bottle back and peered over at the dark cubbies that housed the men’s scent. Even from there, you could catch a whiff of the heady scents as a younger man with reddish brown hair examined an angular vial of Dior Men. You suddenly felt out of place; a mid-thirties woman in her out-of-season clothes fantasizing about overpriced perfume.

Your husband's voice further cemented your reality as you fingered the golden cap of the Coach eau du parfum. Wesley rolled his eyes and flipped up the little plastic panel that hid the bold prices and huffed.

“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna pay for that shit,” he sneered, “what have you been doing? I was waiting for you.”

He waved a plastic bag as his lip curled and you pressed your mouth shut tightly and swallowed. The day began with another argument as he discovered the seared hole in his shirt and instead of blaming the crappy old dryer, he blamed you. Most of your clothes had been chewed up by the thing but you never complained.

“No, I was just… looking,” you teetered in your flats and glanced around. The young man at the corner display quickly turned to hide his nosy observation, “did you find some new shirts?”

“No thanks to you,” he sniffed.

“Oh,” you played with the hem of your tee and tucked your hands into your pockets nervously. You’d left him to look alone as you only seemed to irritate him and rarely took your advice on matters of clothing, “well, I thought I’d give you some space--”

“Stop acting so pathetic. Start taking responsibility for yourself. For god’s sake, you're almost thirty-six and you don’t know how to hang a shirt to dry?” He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder, “let’s go.”

You flinched but followed behind him as he strode away and you stumbled out behind him through the automatic doors. He tossed the bag into the back seat and slammed the door before flopping angrily into the driver’s side. You mirrored him daintily and squeezed your legs together as you tried to make yourself as small as you could.

“I told you about the dryer,” you said.

“And?” he started the engine and slapped his hand around the wheel, “call a fucking electrician or some shit.”

“Alright,” you shrugged as he stopped at the exit of the parking lot and checked his phone quickly.

“Benny wants to do a round of golf,” he peeled out and you grasped the door as your heart raced. You hated how reckless he was when he was angry. You hated how easily he got angry these days.

“Okay,” you picked at the fraying stitching of your purse.

“Don’t start moping,” he sneered, “I fucking work all week and I can’t go out and have a few rounds?”

“I never-- I didn’t say anything,” you murmured.

“You don’t need to,” he turned the wheel sharply as he cut off another car, “you sit at home all day and do what?”

“I work too,” you said.

“Uh huh, sure, if that’s what you call it.”

You ran your fingertip over the bleach stain on the knee of your jeans and said nothing. When he was in a mood, he would latch on anything until he outright exploded. You tried to think of when he changed, when he had stopped being the chill guy you met back in college. It felt like a slow trickle, small things you ignored until it was a mountain you could not see past.

You felt like crying but you’d stopped that a while ago. You existed in a purgatory of acceptance and helplessness. You wanted him to love you again, wanted to believe you could fix things. So you would keep trying. You would do better.

💍

You picked out a large flank of steak and winced at the price. You had a special dinner in mind. It was Friday and the work week was done. You wanted a weekend without a fight and Wesley was always one for a nice big cut of beef. You hadn’t made him one in a while, your dinners were the usual repetitive drumsticks and rice or your homemade mac and cheese.

You continued onto the fish section and grabbed some salmon for yourself. You’d gained some weight and decided to cut out dairy and red meat if you could help it. The pile of produce in your cart reminded you of the extra jiggle around your stomach and thighs. You also grabbed one of those women’s magazines that advertised a regimen to help slim your figure. You only hoped you could stick to it this time.

With your weekly haul in tow, you wheeled up to the check-out and waited behind a young man who looked oddly familiar to you. Maybe that was the passing years. You always felt a vague glimmer of deja vu, more often a sense of forlorn nostalgia of what you would never have again.

As you stared thoughtlessly, he looked over and smiled. He bent in front of your cart and picked up a thin packet of seasoning.

“You dropped this,” he said as he held it out and you thanked him before quickly snatching it and looking away.

He paid for his large bags of chips and over salted pre-packaged meals and packed up at the end as you loaded up your own goods, the cashier sending them down the parallel belt. You swiped your card and tried to calculate the chunk of money from your last check. You thanked the clerk and sidled past the young man as he finished up.

You rounded the counter as he lifted his three bags. You looked up without thinking, the sleeve of his shirt tight around his bicep. You caught yourself staring and looked back down as you packed in the cans.

It reminded you of Wesley; he’d also started being more mindful, he hit the gym after work and you noticed the little pudge that started just after he turned thirty was slimming out. It was that exact reason that made you notice the extra pounds on your own frame, not that you didn’t realise before.

The man left and you unfolded the little buggy you slid under the cart. You loaded your bags into it and dragged the cart behind you as you made an awkward exit with both wheeled trolleys. The compact fabric buggy was easy enough to fit on the bus if you stood.

You pushed the cart into the row of empty ones and continued across the parking lot. You rolled up to the bus shelter and checked the bus times on your phone. You dug out your strip of tickets and ripped one away. You leaned on the thin handle of your trolley and looked over your shoulder as you heard someone approach.

The man who checked out ahead of you put his bags on the metal bench inside the shelter as he sipped on a bright drink from the place just beside the grocery shop. He sent you a smile over his straw and you spun back to crane your head and search for the bus.

When the metal beast barreled up and cranked to a stop at the curb, the man waited behind you and as your wheels caught on the edge of the ramp, he reached around you and helped push it over the lip. You thanked him shyly and continued up. Usually you tried to keep the shop light on weekdays but you hadn’t really been paying attention.

You pushed your cart against the small barrier just behind the accessible seating and stood beside it, conscious not to take up too much space. The man stood just behind you two bags on one shoulder and the other dangling from the opposite elbow as he sucked on his straw. You grabbed the upright bar as the bus took off and watched the electronic banner for your stop.

A sharp stop had you veering back and you were caught by the young man as he chucked, “oop, you okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” you muttered and gave a sheepish smile over your shoulder.

“There’s a seat,” he gestured just behind you, “I’ll watch your stuff.”

“Um, no it’s… fine,” you gripped the bar tighter as the bus shuttled forward, “my stop is soon.”

You looked ahead of you and three stops passed before yours. You exited through the front with your buggy and headed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled away. You were exhausted just from your little sojourn and it wasn’t even two o’clock. God, you felt old.

💍

You had a salad chopped and tossed and the steak and fish laid out and seasoned. As you listened to your old Spotify list, the music dipped and the notification blipped over the screen. You washed your hands and grabbed the phone. You frowned as you read the lone message from Wesley, the only one you got from him all day.

‘Just finished at the gym, getting drinks with Andrew,’ you read and re-read the message as your heart fell.

You typed out a whole angry response and backspaced it all. You replaced it with ‘ok, have fun’ and blacked the screen. You shoved the meat back in the fridge and stretched saran wrap over the bowl of salad. You placed it on a lower shelf and closed the door, quickly swiping a can of the craft beer Wesley kept around.

You shut the light off in the kitchen and ignored the pang in your stomach as you cracked the can. You climbed the stairs as you sipped the hoppy foam. You put it on the night table and changed into the old butterfly pajamas you wore most nights and turned on the tv mounted against the wall.

You turned on Netflix but hardly paid attention to the carelessly chosen movie. You sat against the headboard and down the bitter beer until the can was hollow and your eyelids were heavy. You slumped down so that your shoulders were at your ears and dozed off in the stiff position as the room moved with the colours of the television.

The anger and alcohol shaded your shallow sleep and you hardly heard Wesley when he came in, only waking when your bladder was ready to burst and his snores rumbled in your head. You went to the bathroom and returned, wide awake, and stared at the shape of him in the dark.

You remembered when he used to kiss you when he came home, even when you were asleep, he’d wake you with the little pecks. You remembered when he was happy to come home. You remembered when you were happy.

You swallowed the acrid aftertaste of beer and left him to snore. You went downstairs and curled up on the couch but didn’t sleep. You just stared at the shadows of the furniture until the sun rose.

💍

The next day, Wesley didn’t wake until after noon and when he did, he didn’t say a word to you. He took his coffee and sat at the patio table in the back as you stewed and cleaned the kitchen. You had nothing to say to him even if you felt stupid for being mad.

“Gotta head down to the dealership,” he said as he interrupted your scouring of the stove.

“The dealership?” you said after a moment, deciding whether or not to break your vow of silence.

“I told you on Wednesday, I’m picking up the car--”

“We talked about this. We should wait a little longer--”

“It’s my money and I got a great price,” he sighed, “just because you have to pinch your pennies--”

“We’re married,” you squeezed the foam sponge, “it’s our money. Don’t act like I don’t pay for anything around here.”

“Oh thanks, honey, so wonderful you paid for a five dollar steak,” he scoffed, “I’ll be impressed when you can make a mortgage payment on your own.”

“How dare you!” you turned your back to him and kept scrubbing, “fine, but not a penny of my money is going to that thing.”

“That’s fine, I’m selling the old one, that should cover most of it--”

“What?” you slammed your hand between the burner, “you said we would hold onto it so I had something to--”

“Then you can buy it from me,” he said venomously.

“I’m your wife,” you spun to scowl at him again, “I-- what is wrong with you?”

He tilted his head and squinted as he poked his tongue out along his lip. “Nothing wrong with me,” he shrugged, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t--” you warned as you pointed a finger at him through the bright yellow gloves, “don’t do that… I’ve been trying and you just keep pushing me away.”

“Me pushing you away?” he rolled his eyes, “you were passed out last night when I got home. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep before nine I could actually fuck you… or at least get it up if you worked on losing some of that cellulite on your ass.”

Your lip quivered and you sucked in a breath. You shook your head and turned around again. You ignored him as your hand shook and you continued your work, scratching at the dried-on food around the burner. His empty mug clinked onto the counter and you listened to his exit.

Fuck him and his new car. You were done trying with him.

💍

Wesley’s new car was shrouded in the shade of the garage as the old black Hyundai sat out on the driveway with a red and white “For Sale” sign on the windshield. Right after he got back from his extravagant purchase, he made the listing online and several perusers stopped by Saturday night but Sunday morning saw the car still there.

You sat by the border of stones around the garden as he drank beer in the garage and approached any interested buyers who appeared; although so far he’d only had two before noon.

You tucked your clippers into your apron pocket and dusted off your gloves as you stood. You were a little dizzy from sitting out in the sun and a glass of water was the perfect excuse to drown out the annoying sound of your husband’s voice.

You ignored Wesley as you trod through the garage and kicked your sneakers off on the mat right before the three steps up to the house. You went to the kitchen and put your gloves on the counter as you filled a glass from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. You’d given up everything but water and the slices of lemon were the only flavour you had.

You took the glass and your gloves and headed back. Wesley waited just at the bottom of the stairs as he glared up at you with arms crossed. You sighed and descended but he didn’t let you pass.

“What is your problem?”

“Are you really asking me that?” you hissed.

“You giving me the silent treatment isn’t gonna fix this,” he snarled.

“You know what you said so… I shouldn’t have to tell you to apologize,” you retorted and he stayed put.

“Is this about the car?”

“The car is just another thing,” you cross an arm around your stomach, “you think I couldn’t use it to get around, to get the groceries maybe? Or, I don’t know, maybe since you have such a problem with my home office, I could go out and get a ‘big girl’ job as you put it so many times--”

“Your mother has a car she never drives. You can just take her with you, two birds, one stone. I need to sell this to pay for the new one--”

“The one I begged you not to buy,” you huffed, “you could’ve waited a few more years until we were a little more comfortable--”

“Oh, wait? Until we have a kid and all my money goes to it,” he snapped, “yeah, I’m sure we’d have the money then--”

“You’d have to fuck to do that,” you stepped down the last step and pushed past him.

As you came into the sunlight and shielded your eyes, a figure stood by the garden, knelt just by your tulips as he felt the soft petals. You narrowed your eyes. You recognized him for sure. It was the stranger from the bus.

“Um, hi?” you croaked as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Hey, it’s… you again,” he chuckled softly as he stood, “I saw an ad for a car and… well, I’m getting tired of the bus.”

“Oh, uh, my husband,” you pointed over your shoulder, “you’ll have to talk to him.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “Peter,” he held out his hand and you stared at it. You introduced yourself and shook his firm grip.

“Like I said, it’s my husband selling the car,” you brushed by him and got to your knees by the flowerbed. “Unless you’re looking to buy some wilting pansies.”

“Hmm, I like the tulips better,” he said as he slowly inched away, “thanks.”

You sat back on your heels and he strode over to the open garage. You heard Wesley greet him and didn’t bother paying attention to the same pitch you’d heard all morning. You pulled on your gloves and wiggled your nose as it tingled. You really just wanted to keel over and bawl.

“Sold,” Wesley announced and you heard a clap, “all yours!”

“I’ll just transfer the deposit,” Peter said and a minute passed before he emerged again, the keys hanging from his finger, “Thanks, Wes.”

You hid your distaste. It used to be that Wesley hated being called ‘Wes’ but lately, he introduced himself to everyone as just ‘Wes’. He really had changed. You must have too.

“Hey,” you looked up and blinked as the sun made your eyes water as it shone around Peter.

“You bought it?” you asked as you yanked free a weed.

“Yep, but uh,” he glanced over his shoulder as the old car stereo Wesley used blared out a classic rock tune, “I… wasn’t eavesdropping but I heard some of it and… if you ever need a ride to the grocery store, I usually try for Wednesdays,” he tucked his hand in his pocket, “I don’t live too far and since we go to the same one--”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” you looked back to the soil, embarrassed.

“Well, if you change your mind,” he kept the keys dangling from one finger and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out a card with some effort, “I’m supposed to have these handy but I never really use them.”

He offered the business card and you read his name above the title, ‘senior photographer’. You gave a half-hearted smile and put it in your apron pocket.

“Thanks,” you said, “I can manage.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said kindly, “but I’ll, uh, leave you to your gardening. Sorry if I bugged you.”

“You didn’t,” you assured without looking up, flattered that anyone cared enough to even offer help.

“Hey, Pete,” Wesley stopped Peter as he neared the car, “you can have one before you go.”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna be driving,” Peter argued.

“Pfft, it’s a celebration and one won’t put you over the limit,” Wesley insisted and handed him a dark bottle of craft brew, “come on.”

“I really should go--”

“It’s a Sunday, where do you need to be?” Wesley patted his shoulder and looked over at you, “hey, honey, you wanna see if we have any snacks for our guest?”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter said curtly, “really. Just the beer is fine.”

They disappeared back into the garage and you cringed. You hated that. Wesley only every acted like a husband when others were around.

💍

You waited a whole week before returning to the grocery store. You were short on everything and it was a reason to get out of the house. Your husband had made both your home and your workplace hostile.

It irked you that Wesley resented you working from home when a couple years ago he was so happy about it. Then, he’d been so enthusiastic about starting a family but when it didn’t happen right away, he grew disillusioned and bitter. Now, he seemed to have no interest in being a husband let alone a father.

As you packed up your spinach and bottles of Perrier, your cart rolled just a little as someone nudged it from the other end. You raised your head and hid your surprise and discomfort as Peter smiled back at you.

“I thought you said Wednesdays,” you murmured as you dropped a bag in your cart.

“I forgot eggs,” he held up the carton, “I guess I have good timing.”

“You do?” you asked as you pulled your cart forward and maneuvered around to push it out of the way of fellow shoppers. You bent to grab your trolley from beneath and he caught it as you unfolded it.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

“I told you--”

“I’m here so why not? Save the ticket for next time,” he urged.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter? Why do I matter to you?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I… like helping people,” he shrugged, “what if I told you you were helping me? I have this horrible need to be the hero.”

“That will go away,” you muttered under your breath and he lifted a brow, “sorry, I… thank you.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” he collapsed the trolley and carried it easily under his arm as he cradled his eggs in the other, “I got the A/C fixed on the car too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed and walked with him out of the store.

You crossed the parking lot and helped you load up the bags in the trunk. That car should have been yours; you’d made enough payments on it yourself but Wesley was such a stubborn ass.

You sat in the front seat as he slid into the other and started the car. He drove cautiously through the lot and you read the store signs as he came to the exit.

“How long have you and… the old man been together?”

“Um,” you glanced over at him and chewed your lip, “since college so… almost fifteen years now.”

“Fifteen?” he turned out onto the street, “really? I thought he was older than you.”

“Christ,” you scoffed, “don’t flatter me.”

“Really, I woulda said twenty-eight at most,” he said coolly, “wow, I feel so young now.”

“And I feel so old,” you grumbled as you crossed your legs, hoping he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the pink capris.

“Whatever, you’re not even forty,” he said, “and time has treated you well so I can only think in a few years… oh jeez, sorry, that came off weirder than I intended. Not that I meant for it to be weird at all--”

You giggled at his rambling as he rolled to a stop at the sign and peeked over at you in the rearview. You caught his eye and quickly looked away, “what?”

“Just… you have a nice smile,” he said as he turned down a side street, “and a nice laugh.”

“Thank you,” your voice was brittle at the genuine compliment, “you’re funny.”

“Am I? I wasn’t trying to be,” he took the same short cut you took when you walked home from the convenience store which was closer than the plaza.

“And nice,” you said as he came onto your street, “you really didn’t have to drive me. You could’ve dropped me at the corner--”

“No way, I was raised better than that, and if you think I’m letting you carry that all in by yourself--”

“Raised to help little old ladies?” you mused.

“Raised to treat ladies properly,” he corrected, “especially pretty ones.”

“I’m married,” your heart pattered as you dared to flirt back, almost in disbelief that he was humouring you, “and your lies don’t work on me, young man.”

“Not that young,” he insisted as he pulled into the driveway.

You got out and went around to the trunk. He handed you the bag with the bread and other light products, and loaded up with the other bags.

“You get the doors, let me do the heavy work,” he said and nodded you towards the house.

You went ahead of him and unlocked the door. You let him inside and pointed him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and stretched his arms and hands as you set yours on the other side. The muscles of his arms moved under his skin and you could trace the lines of his torso through his grey tee.

“So,” he took out the bottle of Perrier, “this going in the fridge?”

“What-- you’ve done enough.”

“Fridge?” he ignored you and pulled out the other.

You gave a long blink and threw up your hands in surrender, “yes, please,” you came around and reached in to grab the whole grain buns, “bottom shelf.”

You finished unpacking your groceries and took the empty bags from Peter and shoved them under the counter. You stood and looked at him nervously as he watched you, his fingers tapping on the granite.

“Do you want a snack? Something to drink? Water?”

“I’ll have a water,” he said and moved to leaned his elbow on the countertop, his side snug to the edge.

“Sparkling or--”

“Regular’s fine,” he answered

“Ice? Lemon?” you pulled out a tall glass.

“Just ice is fine… then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.

Ice clinked into the glass and you covered it with the distilled water from the fridge. You slid it onto the counter and stepped back.

“Oh, I… actually, it’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said and took a sip, “my aunt, she likes to garden too but she got some bulbs she’s not gonna use, I thought maybe… maybe you would like some to fill in the holes?”

“What kind?” you asked.

“Some daffodils and some crocuses, I think,” he said, “I could bring them over next week after work?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you scrunched your lips, “you could probably just give them to a neighbour.”

“It’s not out of the way,” he said, “you want them?”

You stared at him and thought. He was nice. Too nice.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I… I’m sure you have a girlfriend you could be spending time with--”

“I don’t. Not anymore,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn’t--”

“Like I said, I always wanna be the good guy,” he finished his water and the last of the cubes settled at the bottom, “thanks.”

“No, thank you,” you said as he set his glass in the sink and backed away, “really, you made my day so much easier.”

“I hope your weekend is better,” he said, “but…”

He didn’t finished and you folded your hands together as he hesitated by the hallway.

“But what?” you prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing. I should go.”

“Okay,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “see ya.”

“Monday,” he confirmed as he turned to the doorframe, “I’ll bring the bulbs. Just after seven.”

“Right,” you slanted your lips and watched him go.

The door marked his departure and you turned to exhale and lean against the counter. You could still smell his rich cologne. Then you felt guilty. It was stupid to think he was doing anything more than being nice, that the flirting was anything but a joke, but still, you missed feeling that way and it should’ve been Wesley making you feel that.

💍

You squeezed the phone as you clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. Your eyes were wet and finally the tears were ready to start falling. The smell of steak filled the kitchen, another meal you wouldn’t eat. At the last minute, Wesley texted to tell you he was hitting the gym. Again. He was already late after a long meeting but promised he’d be home to eat.

So you waited for him to answer your furious phone call but got his voicemail instead. Your eyes narrowed at the bottle of wine and your chest knotted as the tone sounded.

“Wesley, this is it. I can’t do this anymore! I’m your wife. Do you even want to be with me? I can’t go on like this and now you won’t even answer my calls,” you snarled. You knew he had his phone on him as he no doubt had his Spotify work-out list on shuffle, “when you come home, you can sleep on the couch.”

You hung up and grabbed a stemmed glass from the cupboard. You filled it to the brim with Pinot Grigio but before you could taste it, the doorbell made you jump. You set down the glass and walked up the hallway. Just on the other side of the frosted glass was a silhouette. You opened the door and touched your forehead as you faced Peter.

“I totally forgot you were coming,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. But thank you, you really didn’t have to--”

“Are you okay?” he asked as the paper bag in his hand crinkled.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I… thank you for the flowers,” you looked at the brown paper bag and he handed it over, another bag on his wrist; white with ribbon handles, “what’s that? You headed out for a date?”

“Um, no,” he said, “actually, I was just…” he pushed his fingers through his hairs, the reddish brown locks slightly curled with sweat, “I wanted to talk to you.” He looked past you and his warm eyes returned to yours, “Wesley isn’t home yet?”

“No, he won’t be for a while,” you backed up, “so you might as well come in. I have a steak no one’s gonna eat.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Peter said glumly, “and steak sounds good.”

He closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You put the bulbs at the back of the counter and grabbed the bottle, “wine?”

“No thank you,” he said.

You plunked down the bottle and took a gulp of your wine before you turned to plate the steak and your chicken breast alongside the fried asparagus and roasted potatoes. You set the filet before him as he sat on the stool and climbed up across from him at the long island.

“Thank you,” he watched you slide a steak knife and fork towards him and his gaze lingered on your lips as you took another thirsty mouthful, “this is for you, actually.”

He pushed the white bag over to you and you smelled the subtle floral scent rising from it. You put your glass down and pushed open the top of the bag and peeked inside. You shook your head and rescinded your hand as if you were slapped. It was the same perfume from that day weeks ago.

“You… how?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

You thought back on the day you wanted to forget. He was the other shopper in the perfume section, the one who sent you that sympathetic look as Wesley reproached you. You winced and grabbed your utensils. You cut into the chicken and shoved it in your mouth. You swallowed loudly.

“Take it back,” you sniffed, “I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do. He doesn’t deserve you,” he carefully sliced into the medium rare steak.

“Is that what this is? Some perverted joke? A challenge?” you dropped your fork and knife, “you think you can seduce the sad housewife and then laugh at it? Sow your wild oats?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he calmly put down the silverware, “I… what I didn’t say when I showed up is I just came from the gym.”

You frowned in confusion and wrinkled your nose. You took another drink of wine as you tried to understand.

“I saw Wesley,” he said as he leaned on his elbow and pulled out his phone with his other hand, “I didn’t wanna say anything but… you’re here beating yourself up over him and-- just look.”

He slid his phone across the counter and you looked at the screen. Your entire body felt heavy and your veins filled with ice. You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wipe the sight from your eyes; the image of your husband groping a woman in yoga pants, an act she wasn’t deterring.

“I knew it,” you sobbed as the tears burst forth and leaked down your palms, “I knew it. And why wouldn’t he? I’m old, ugly--” you sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe them on your pants. Peter held out a paper towel and you took it as you avoided his eyes, “thank you but I think you should go. I’m humiliated enough.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said as he climbed down from the stool and rounded the island, “he’s an asshole. He’s blind.”

“Please, Peter, just leave me alone,” you slid off the stool and he caught your shoulders. You looked up at him as you dabbed away the streaks of sadness with the paper towel, “Peter--”

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly, “he’s out there having his fun, so why don’t you have some of your own?”

“Peter, that’s-- that’s wrong. I’m too old for you. And… I’m fat and--”

“You’re perfect,” he reached up to frame your chin with his hand, “you’re gorgeous,” his other hand trailed down your arm and to your hip, “that’s the first thing I noticed about you…” he pulled you closer and tapped your ass lightly.

“No, I can’t-- I just want to be alone,” you pushed on his arms and felt the thick biceps as he flexed and kept you close.

“Well, baby, what I want,” he turned you so that you were pinned between him and the island, “is for you to put on that perfume… I want you wearing nothing but that.”

“Peter,” you pushed on his chest that time and the hard muscle wall didn’t budge, “Peter, go--”

“Baby,” he bent and scooped you up suddenly.

His hands spread over your ass as he lifted you and crushed his lips against yours. You murmured in surprise and he placed you on the granite countertop. He parted from your lips as you sat up and he shoved your legs apart, inserting himself between your knees. He played with the bottom of the dress you’d worn in hopes of rekindling your dying marriage.

“We can go slow,” he tickled along your thighs and pulled back suddenly, “just a little at a time.”

He leaned in as he reached around you and grabbed the small white bag. He pulled out the perfume and snaked his hand around your neck. He pulled you to bend over him and he kissed your neck just before he sprayed a puff of perfume across your throat. He stood back and took a deep breath. He put the bottle on the counter and his hands went back to your skirt.

“Peter,” you caught his hands as they crept under the fabric, “please.”

You tried to slide forward and he stopped you as he grasped your hips and held you in place. He bit his lip as his eyes glimmered up at you. He drew a hand away and took the glass of wine and held it before your mouth.

“Drink, relax,” he cooed, “forget about him.”

You stared at him and he brought your hand up with his and wrapped it around the full body of the glass. He nudged it to your lips and watched you until you drank from the crystal rim. He smirked and lifted your skirt as he bent to bury his head beneath the folds.

You gulped and choked on the wine as your skirt fluttered down over his shoulders. You felt his finger on the lace trim of your panties and winced. He squeezed your thighs with his other hand and nuzzled the crotch of your underwear. You tried to close your legs but he kept them apart easily.

He curled his fingers under the elastic of your panties and tugged. He pulled until you lifted your ass just enough for him to get them free and he guided them down your legs before quickly parting them again.

You set down the glass and almost overturned it, the last mouthful splashing up the side. You pressed your hands to the granite and peered down at the shape of his head beneath your skirt. You gasped as his cool tongue grazed your warm folds and delved deeper.

“Peter…” you wisped and closed your eyes as you tried to hide from your own shame.

He purred as his tongue flicked over your clit and you twitched. He caressed the crease of your thigh with his fingers as he lapped at your, his other hand pressed against your stomach until you fell back across the counter. You arched your back instinctively and his hand cupped your tit through your dress.

He blindly pulled until your chest slipped out and pushed the cup of your bra as he teased your clit with his tongue. He felt along your cunt with his fingers and shoved his index inside of you. You moaned as he pushed another inside and curled them as he suckled on your bud.

Your core burned to life. Your entire being was set alight after months without affection. You quivered in delight and fear. Your nerves stormed both out of guilt and hunger. It felt so good but you knew it was wrong. The scent of the perfume filled your nose as your skin grew hot.

He moved his hand in time with his mouth as he doted on you. His touch intensified as your legs bent around the side of the island and your fingernails dragged along the granite, your voice rising without thought. He pinched your nipple and you cried out as you came in a wave of sheer pleasure and grabbed his wrist as you tried to steady yourself.

He eased off slowly as you trembled in the afterglow, his lingering touch tickled along your legs as he pushed your dress up. He pulled you to sit up and lifted the fabric over your head and ripped your sleeves free from your arms. He tossed as side the garment and swiftly covered your mouth with his so you tasted your own arousal on his tongue.

He unhooked your bra blindly and slid it off your arms. You were intensely aware of your nakedness and as you brought your arms up to cover yourself, he forced them down and ran his hands over your bare torso.

“Beautiful,” he said as he laid a trail of gentle pecks along your throat and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers and sent a shiver through you.

He kneaded your sides and hips, his fingers danced along your thighs and he followed the path with his mouth, kissing and nipping your flesh. He lifted his head again as he took your hands and twined his fingers through yours. He tugged you gently until you slid off the counter and landed on your feet shakily.

“Baby, you’re so amazing,” he placed your hands on his chest and pushed them down his muscled torso and brought them back up beneath his tee shirt, “go on.”

He let you go and you continued to roll up his tee. He dipped his head and raised his arms to help you and you clung to the tee as it fell limp in your grasp. Dazed, he snatched the shirt from your hands and flung it. He once more pressed your hands to his chest and guided you in feeling the lines of his toned flesh.

He pushed your hands against the top of his jeans and leaned into you. He kissed your temple and whispered along your hairline, “turn around, baby.” He squeezed your ass and purred, “mmmm, please, I wanna see that ass.”

You blinked, dazed, and spun slowly. You caught yourself on the edge of the counter as your legs trembled and you heard the subtle zip. He kicked his foot between yours and pushed your legs apart as he led you back so that you were slightly bent against the island. He ran his nails down your back and gripped your hip with one hand as his other drew away from your skin.

You flinched as you felt his smooth tip against your ass and he rubbed it between your cheeks. You inhaled and held in your breath as his hold on your tightened and he angled his dick under your ass and grazed your cunt. He poked your entrance and pressed his chest to your back as his hand covered yours on the granite.

He slid into you and your voice fizzled in the air as he forced the air from your lungs. You pushed your head back and it met his shoulder as his other hand crawled down your front. He spread your folds with his fingers and swirled another around your clit as he tilted his hips and thrust into you slowly.

“Ah, Peter,” you slapped the counter and he shushed you as his hand left yours cold and his fingers stretched over your throat.

His motion picked up as the noise of him crashing into you echoed around the kitchen. Your eyes rolled back as he rammed into you even harder. You were on tiptoes as he was driven by the weak moans that leaked from your lips and your wet pleasure squelched around him. He pressed two fingers to your bud and rubbed until you squeaked and your thighs quaked around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, “I bet you never cum like that for him.”

You whined and he sped up again. He pinned you against the counter so that the lip pressed into your stomach. He took his hand from your cunt and pushed your head down as he kept his other hand around your neck. He didn’t waver once as he fucked you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he commanded, “I want you to cum again for me. I know you want to too.”

His thick breath warmed the air and grazed your back as he held you down and his hold on your neck tightened until silver stars rose in your vision. Your feet dangled against the tile and you reached down to play with your clit as it buzzed. It was only seconds before you were murmuring in ecstasy once more.

“Fuck, baby, can you feel that? The way your clinging to me,” he puffed as he slammed into you over and over, “he can hardly fill you, can he? Hmmm? Little man.”

You wheezed as he choked you and his other hand kept your head pinned. You heard a distant creak but could barely do more than keep your fingers moving as your heartbeat deafened you. You came again and croaked as your cunt squeezed him hungrily.

“What the fuck?” the voice broke your lusty trance and suddenly you were pulled away from the counter.

Your head lulled as Peter held it up and turned you around, his pelvis slapping against your ass as you faced your husband. Your mouth hung open as your blurred vision barely registered the scene and the deep grunts only got louder behind you.

“Look who’s here,” Peter rasped as he snaked his arm around you.

“The fuck are you doing?” Wesley sneered as your eyes closed and your ass rang with each thrust.

“What you can’t,” Peter snickered, “doesn’t she look so happy?” He grasped your chin and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he held your head up, “well, you into watching or you gonna let us finish, old man?”

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #peter parker x reader #dark fic #one shot #dark!fic #do us part #marvel #mcu #spider-man #avengers

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the28thofseptemberr · 3 years

Text

helloooo!! i didn't do a fic rec last month because i was so busy with my exams and barely had time to read, so this month's post is going to comprise of mostly fics i've read in june but also some i've read in may.

thank you to all of the incredible writers, please go support them!! and remember to read all of the tags and possible warnings before reading the fic! here is the list of fics (mostly below the cut):

read

•° — led by your beating heart by @missandrogyny 29.4k | E | famous harry/non-famous louis

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any help right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

note: this was so funny and cute and well written, and everyone was characterized so perfectly!! i adored the chemistry between louis and harry, this fic kept me smiling for the whole time while i was reading <3

•° — sounds like love to me by @neondiamond 14.6k | G | kid fic

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

Louis watches as Harry’s face falls with the realization that this is one of those things he won’t be able to experience. For a second, Louis considers saying no, to show Harry they’re truly on the same boat through all of this. But he nods in the end, reaching over for Harry’s hand as the doctor flips a switch. Noise fills the room then, and it takes a few seconds for the sound to become clear enough for Louis to make out the baby’s fast heartbeat.

“It’s really fast,” he voices his thoughts out loud as he uses his thumb to tap against the back of Harry’s hand, replicating the rapid rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat. It takes the younger man a little while to figure out what Louis’ doing, but a huge grin breaks out on his face as soon as he does.

“Is that them?” He signs with the other hand, his own eyes starting to tear up when Louis nods.

OR: Harry is deaf, Louis is pregnant. They figure it out.

note: i'm not a fan of mpreg or kid fics in general, but i stumbled across the fic post for this on my dash and the summary sounded really intriguing to me, so i had a go at reading and it did not disappoint!! it was really sweet and fluffy but also so touching and heartbreaking in some parts. plus, i really enjoyed how harry and louis worked together and supported each other.

•° — this restless dream by @afirethatcannotdie 5.6k | NR | first meetings

“Hiii, I called earlier about the dogs?” he asks, taking a few steps closer to the desk where Louis is standing. He’s taller than Louis, with a dimple when he smiles and bright green eyes. There's a cute eagerness about his whole presence. “Do you have any puppies?” He’s a bit like a puppy himself, actually.

AU. Louis works at an animal shelter and Harry wants a puppy. Things don't go quite according to plan.

note: this was so so adorable and soft, especially since i have a soft spot for h&l with pets. i also have a soft spot for h&l being oblivious lovesick idiots and this was perfect!!

•° — all i see is you, lately by @runaway-train-works 2k | G | first meetings

Harry noticed him for the first time three months ago. He couldn’t not, really, what with the man being so pretty and all, and Harry remembers it well because it was three days before his birthday and he had joked to himself that seeing someone so gorgeous for three days on the trot must be an early present from the Gods.

The one where Harry has a crush on a fellow commuter.

note: this one was quite short but so sweet and perfect and lovely!!

•° — the things i'd do to wake up next to you by orphan_account 36.1k | M | amnesia fic

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

note: this fic was incredible, i'm always up for an amnesia fic and this one was heart-breaking and realistic but also sweet and fluffy as well :)

•° — this glorious mess by theweightofmywords 14.2k | M | post-breakup

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes float open to focus on what used to be his bedside table.

It’s empty now, devoid of the framed photo of the two of them. And Louis knows that he has no right to feel hurt, but somehow, this only confirms what this really is.

“This is the last time,” he cries, his voice breaking both from pleasure and pain.

“I know, baby,” Harry breathes, burying his face in Louis neck.

note: this is the third mpreg-centric fic i've read this month and... i don't even like mpreg?? but god the premise of this fic intrigued me so much, and it was lovely and emotional and beautifully written.

•° — BLAH BLAH BLAH there's a moment you know (you're f*cked) by @mercurial-madhouse 3.2k | M | spy au

Anyone impulsive enough to betray their country is either foolish or overly-confident. Louis’s too cunning for the former. So his inflated ego tips precariously close to the edge between pride and hubris. In sum: He may be an expert, (as proven by the .32-cal Beretta Alleycat Harry found strapped to his back) but ex-agent Louis Tomlinson will explode like a busted bullet misfiring in a broken gunbarrel if Harry can find his trigger.

___

Or, the spy AU in which Harry thinks he's prepared to meet Louis only to find he's not.

note: the banter and tension in this fic was so good and so fun!! i need moreee

•° — every lonely place by @ham-palpert 38k | E | time travel/alternate lives fic

Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.

note: this was such a unique fic! and such an emotional one too, love the message it sends and the character arc and development was so good

•° — tick-tock by bubblegumclouds 6k | G | soulmate au

When Louis was born to Jay Tomlinson with a tiny 2 years on his clock, it starts the most beautiful love story. Even if things are missed, fate finds a way to make it work.

note: this was just so, so cute and fluffy and sweet! i loved it

•° — baby baby, you're a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny 3.2k | T | coffee shop au

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

note: this was so lovely, and i especially really loved the little section talking about louis' name and how it suits him!

re-read

•° — one shines brighter by @afirethatcannotdie 11.8k | T | wedding fic

“Hi, baby. You doing anything fun today?” Harry shrugs. “Dunno. Thought I’d see how I was feeling before making any plans.” “You wanna get married?” Louis asks. Harry’s face breaks into a smile, and he nods. Louis’ lips are just brushing Harry’s when Gemma appears in the hallway. “You two are in so much trouble.” Harry's wedding was never supposed to be the happiest day of his life. No, that was going to be the day after, when he finally got to start his marriage. Unfortunately his family (and Louis) have other ideas.

Featuring a pair of moms who only want the best for their kids, meddling sisters with too much time on their hands, and a groom who gets caught up in the fairytale.

note: i adore this fic!! it's so so so adorable and so soft and well written, and you can feel how in love h&l are with each other. so so good!

my own fics

•° — under your bed in new york 33.4k | T | exes to lovers

"We know you're still in love with Harry."

Louis' nostrils flared up. "I'm not—"

"Louis."

"I'm not!"

there are many things louis likes to tell himself. we broke up for a reason. it's been so many years. and of course, the classic: i’ve definitely moved on from him. but when he suddenly finds harry back in his life after three years, louis realizes he might be a little less moved on than he thought.

au; spilling coffee onto an ex, being set up on dates, and having a nosy puppy might be all louis needs to find love again

note: i didn't actually write or publish this one this month, but i did edit, revamp and make a fic post for it this month so i thought i'd put it in here anyway. reblog the fic post here!

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #hl source #1d source #fic rec #my fic rec #2021 recs #fic list #june rec #june 2021 rec #*#sched

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yannasunflower · 3 years

Text

dust to dust | chapter two

chapter one | chapter two

ao3

You don't know what makes you save Kuroo Tetsurou's life. All you know is there is no world to save anymore, but damn if you're just stupid enough to try.

Genre: hurt/comfort/romance/angst Rating: Mature, subject to change (gore, violence) Kuroo x fem!Reader Word count: 3.5k

hey everyone! here's chapter two, as promised. this fic is also cross-posted to AO3, where i'm under the same username. linked above as well! next chapter, action picks up, plot picks up, and we get more Kuroo, promise. enjoy, and as always, please reblog, like, and comment <3

Nobody ever told you how absolutely boring a zombie apocalypse could be.

Your ragtag group of survivors have scavenged what entertainment they can - books and gym equipment, even a few board games. People like Suga and Takeda keep busy with the children, teaching them to read and garden and how to survive if mommy and daddy never come back for them.

You open one lazy eye as a gaggle of them stumble after Suga, hanging on to his every word.

You’re not sure how the two men handle placing a long knife in a child’s chubby hand, fingers barely able to grip it,and showing them how to strike right at a nighstalker’s heart, fast and deep. Their giggles float through the air and the sound is almost dreamlike and if you keep your eyes closed, you can pretend this is a movie and when you open them, the credits will roll and you can go home.

Others tend to the elderly, of which there are only three in your group. You try to keep them comfortable and as far from danger as possible. But your body constantly prickles with the knowledge that they aren’t just vulnerable - they are a vulnerability. A hole in the brick wall you are attempting to build around this little community.

The healthy and fit young people patrol and take rotations on the watchtowers. Teenagers help with the lessons. Takeda had been firm about this. Once a kid turned seventeen, they were allowed to join the patrols, but until then, they stayed sequestered away.

It was almost comical, telling a tall, strong, angry Tobio that he had to mind the children. He towers over you, but he had bent to your will after a brief glaring contest. And then a week later, Shoyo had bounded into everyone’s hearts, including his, and the pair were inseparable.

Kiyoko, for her part, had taken one look at Yachi, shivering at Hinata’s side, and adopted her, sweeping her under a protective wing and keeping her there.

For people like you, who have no “bedside manner” as Kiyoko puts it, there are chores and day to day mini emergencies to keep you busy. Somehow, in the months since the world finally decided to fall apart, you have become mediator and negotiator. It’s an unlikely role; you can see your mother’s arched brow if she was still alive to see you now.

You barely have the patience for grocery shopping.

She would have laughed, elbowing your father, who would have made a valiant attempt at a straight face.

These are useless memories but you allow yourself to indulge for a moment. You have nothing better to do. Lunch is cooking, inventory has been completed, the guard rotation is set for the next two weeks. Ukai had waved you off this morning when you finally managed to corner him, complaining about your ceaseless energy and the “mad glint” in your eye. His words.

“That look means trouble for me,” he had growled, pointing an accusing finger at you. “Go to your cell and get some sleep for the love of anything you find holy.” Without another word, the man had leaned against a wall, put his feet up on his desk, and closed his eyes. A clear dismissal. You tried not to huff but you definitely stomped a little bit on the way out.

You don’t know how to tell him that staying in your cell, with your eyes closed, is inviting the living nightmares. You don’t know how to tell anyone, really, that you are just as haunted as this prison, as Daichi’s eyes.

That the only holy thing left in this world is fear and if you succumb to that, you’ll never move again.

You let a sigh tumble out of you. Forcibly, you shove your thoughts in another direction.

It had been a week since you brought home your latest stray. Kuroo had spent the first three days doing little else but sleep and eat. Daichi has taken to walking him around the Pit every day, explaining the way things work, and Suga showed him his pride and joy just yesterday. Kuroo had been suitably impressed by the garden, if the generous second and third helpings Suga thought he was sneaking to him at dinnertime were anything to go by.

The man has filled out nicely. He looks less skeleton, more human after sleep and hot food. You had peeked in on him in the grey of dawn that morning after Daichi not-so-subtly hinted that Kuroo had been asking about you.

He sleeps curled up on his side, hair falling against his cheek. In another world, you would have taken a picture.

Kiyoko tells you that the men like him, that Tanaka has stopped regarding him with all the wariness of a stray cat, and that she’s pretty sure Yachi has a crush on him.

You open your eyes into a blazing afternoon, unsurprised to see the subject of your thoughts stretching in the courtyard, the weak sunlight rippling over his bare arms. His black hair is messy as ever and you are struck all over again by how tall he is.

Tobio got a new babysitter, you think with no small amount of amusement. The gangly teenager needs someone to keep him in line and frankly, you don’t have the time and Hinata is just as likely to suggest some stupid shit for them to get into as he is.

You are still stretched out like a cat on a bench, letting the sun warm you, half-hoping it will lull you into a nap.

It’s boredom, more than anything, that makes you turn your head toward Kuroo.

“If you’d like to get some exercise, we have equipment. I’m sure Noya can show you,” you call.

Kuroo jumps and swivels to look at you, eyes wide and so, so dark. You look away. Something about him is like staring at the sun; too long, and your eyes burn.

“Didn’t see you there,” he admits easily, sauntering over to your bench. You eye his approach, noting that he really must be feeling a lot better. His movements are more fluid now, lean muscles becoming apparent on his shoulders.

Daichi has blessed every woman, and a few men, in the Pit by finding Kuroo a pair of grey joggers and a muscle tank top for everyday wear.

“I don’t do well with sitting still,” he says, leaning over you. His head casts you in shadow, blotting out the sun. “This is something I think you can understand.”

Up close, you can see that the shadows beneath his eyes are retreating gradually. His smile looks less like a grimace today.

You hum, swinging your legs over the bench and sitting up. Blood rushes from your head and you lean back against your palms. Kuroo lowers himself to sit next to you.

“Daichi forces me to limit my rotations on the guard towers and patrols,” you answer. “When we first found this place and cleaned it out, I was working overtime and made myself sick. Him and Kiyoko have been conspirators against me ever since.”

Your fingers thrum against your thigh as you say this. You feel more than see Kuroo’s eyes on them.

“They love you,” he points out, a little unnecessarily.

You snort.

“Love is expensive nowadays and everyone in the Pit is broke.”

“You love them back even more.”

You glare at him but he is just looking at you, tracing the planes of your face. A frown tugs at your lips.

“How are you feeling?”

Kuroo rolls his shoulders experimentally, stretching his arms above his head.

“Better,” he affirms. “More like myself.”

“A nosy busybody who talks like a grandpa?”

“Exactly.”

He is grinning now and you have to fight to keep yourself from returning the expression.

The bruises on his face are yellow now. You estimate it will only take a couple more weeks of regular meals for his face to fill out and his skin to look youthful again. You don’t bother asking him how long he had been alone, what happened to his family. None of that matters now. The apocalypse is a great equalizer.

“I talked to Takeda and Kiyoko this morning,” you begin, leaning your head back and closing your eyes against the sun. “They agreed to give you another week before putting you on guard rotation.”

“I would appreciate that. I want to earn my keep, however I can.”

A ghost of a smile dances across your lips.

“You’re just bored,” you tease. It’s been a long time since you felt sleepy and loose enough to tease anyone.

“You say that now, but newbies get the shittiest schedule possible,” you warn him, unsure why you’re telling him this. “Be prepared. Once you’re back to top form, we’ll discuss sending you on patrols for medicine and expanding that garden of Suga’s.”

There’s silence but it’s comfortable, easy. You let yourself enjoy it for just a few moments before standing, opening your eyes and offering Kuroo a full smile and your hand.

As he shakes it, looking only a little confused, you wonder how much longer he would have survived on his own in the city.

“Welcome to the Pit,” you say before turning on your heel and walking away.

~~~

Nightmares are as plentiful as soil on Suga’s fingers.

A sliver of moonlight is all that keeps you from sinking into the darkness, skin clammy, chest heaving. Your fingers twist into the sheets. A prayer is whispered that you didn’t scream this time. You can’t bear the thought of Kiyoko running again, feet bare, knife in hand and tears glistening on her cheeks. Her utter, pure relief haunted you for a month.

It would be so easy, you think, to never get up again.

Kiyoko would care for you. Daichi would stop by, every day, and update you. Ukai would read to you, probably, or nap in your cell, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

These are the thoughts that force you up, out, stumbling into your worn boots, shrugging a jacket on.

Takeda finds you in the office hours later, hunched over inventory reports in his neat handwriting, hair pulled back. He puts a pot of coffee on and hands you a steaming mug, holding a hand out for the report you’re struggling to understand.

“Winter is coming,” you sigh as you hand it over. He doesn’t ask about the shadows beneath your eyes, doesn’t comment on the fact that it’s barely six-thirty in the morning and you’ve clearly been awake for a number of hours.

A smile quirks at his lips.

“I didn’t know Tanaka managed to get the TV’s up and running,” he jokes. You wave your hand in a vague gesture, taking another sip of the liquid heaven in your hand.

“We need to get winter supplies,” you answer and that sobers him up. He nods, slowly, eyes roving the paper.

“Winter isn’t for over six months,” he reminds you. An eyebrow is raised. A teacher, waiting for an explanation. In moments like these, you see the high school teacher that you’d found barricaded in his office, babbling a stream of students’ names that Daichi had quietly whispered as your group cut them down, reading them off their uniforms.

On Takeda’s worst nights, as you guarded the door to his cell, you’d heard those same names, apologies and nonsensical gibberish streaming from his mouth as he grappled with his dreams and feverish tremors.

You stand, stretching, before stepping in front of a map of the city that Suga had snagged on one of his patrols. It’s huge, taking up an entire wall. Little markers litter the paper, different colors, and you run your finger over the pale blue ones in the northeast corner.

“There’s a limited supply of winter clothes in the city. I don’t want other groups getting to it first - we don’t need that bastard holding it over our heads when we have food and they don’t,” you remind him. Your arms cross behind your back automatically. “With the snows, we’ll need snow boots. The kids need jackets and thermals. We need to completely outfit the prison’s entire water supply system to last through snowstorms. We need hot water before then or half of us are going to be too sick, and the other half will be taking care of them. We need medicine, too.”

You tick off each item on your fingers, pausing to consider if you’ve missed something. You’re probably missing ten somethings and you struggle to see what they are. You need more coffee.

Takeda is twenty-nine, but when you turn to look at him finally, he seems sixty, glasses dangling from his fingers, nose bridge pinched between his knuckles.

He mutters something suspiciously close to a curse under his breath before opening his eyes.

“You’re right,” he admits. “We’re going to need at least seven months to prepare.”

The morning is a whirlwind. You send the youngest children, always the earliest risers, to fetch Daichi and Kiyoko, both much more bright-eyed than they have any right to be. Takeda drags a yawning Ukai into the office moments later and Tanaka slouches after them. Suga pokes his head in to give you a little wave and knowing smirk that everyone else finds nonthreatening before ushering the children to the cafeteria for their breakfast.

You’re positive you’re not imagining the pale pink coating Daichi’s cheeks.

After explaining the situation, everyone sucks in a collective breath.

Tanaka never sits and always faces a door. From his corner of the room, he glowers at the map.

“Well, fuck,” he neatly summarizes. You nod your appreciation for his conciseness.

“We need to get a hold of meat,” Ukai points out. A something you had missed.

You grab a marker and the portable whiteboard Takeda had grabbed a few weeks ago. In neat characters, you begin documenting everything thrown around the table.

“Raising livestock will be another way to keep the little ones busy.”

“We can’t ask people to shower in cold water during winter, that’s cruel.”

“Tanaka, is there any way to get the heating system up and running by then?”

“What about air conditioning? We have to get through the summer to get to winter, and heat is just as likely to kill us.”

“If other groups realize what we’re doing, we could be in trouble.”

A headache is brewing somewhere behind your temples and you bite back a groan. Kiyoko pushes a cool water bottle into your hand and you know she isn’t fooled for one second.

“I think we’re missing someone here,” Kiyoko points out mildly after what feels like an eternity of circular conversation. All eyes turn to her and she’s unruffled, fingers still wrapped around her mug.

“Kuroo could be a huge help to a lot of this,” she continues. “I’m sure he can help Tanaka and Noya with everything on their list, and we need more able-bodied men on the patrols anyway. He can help us with medicine, our food supply, all of it.”

A furtive glance in Tanaka’s direction is not encouraging. He’s glowering, eyes hooded.

“We barely know him,” Tanaka hisses. You have to privately agree.

“We barely know each other,” Ukai shoots back. “We’ve been here, what, three months?”

“He hasn’t even been on a patrol yet and you want him helping us make important decisions that affect everyone, including the kids?”

“That’s unfair, and you know it, Tanaka,” Takeda says patiently, but somehow reproachfully at the same time. “Kuroo has been in no condition to patrol. The man was emaciated.”

Takeda continues, levying everyone at the table with a stern face.

“We all trust each other now because we took the gamble and brought people in and allowed time to prove it. It was always a risk, and it will always be a risk, but we can’t let that stop us. What we’re doing here is more important than just working together to survive.”

It’s a flowery, nice sentiment, to be expected from a literature teacher, and you barely hold back a snort at Ukai’s warning look.

“None of this matters,” you cut in. “Takeda’s right. And so is Kiyoko. He could be a huge help to you specifically, Tanaka, and he’s getting better every day but we have to give him time before he’s physically ready. You saw him when we brought him in – he was skin and bones.”

Tanaka subsides into grumbling acceptance and you take it as a win.

Daichi returns with Kuroo in tow just minutes later, and if Kuroo is at all confused, he doesn’t show it. He folds himself into a chair, all long limbs and wide feet.

The problems are laid out on the table again. You watch as Kuroo absorbs it, eyes narrowed, flicking sometimes to the map on the wall.

“Frankly, I wish we were in an apartment building,” Tanaka reveals after an hour of debating the best way to acquire livestock.

You sigh, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eyes hard enough to see colors. You know it’s not Tanaka’s fault, that he’s saying out loud something you’d privately thought before. That the electrical systems in apartment buildings would be much easier for him to coax into submission.

But you’re tired. Kiyoko is rubbing the old wound on her shoulder again, Ukai’s fingers are tapping a loud rhythm on the table, and Daichi is watching you lose your mind with that same placid smile in place.

“I wish the apocalypse didn’t happen and we all didn’t have nightmares every damn night, but here we are,” you snap. “I wish we were all cozy in furnished apartments right now, too, and I wish we didn’t have to talk about these things.”

You wish the children didn’t have to hold knives, you wish Suga would stop forcing you to eat, you wish you could forget your mother’s laugh, you wish and wish and wish.

Tanaka’s mouth is open and Daichi is sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. Kuroo’s eyes are expressionless and he just looks like he’s waiting, though for what, you can’t even begin to guess.

You find that you don’t have the energy to regret the words, so you barrel on.

“The apartment buildings are stacked with nightstalkers. It would take weeks to clear even one out, and we would lose people. Guaranteed. We lost one person clearing this prison out and that —”

You’re cut off by a strange choking noise in your throat. The memory of Ennoshita is sweet, cloying, poisonous. Takeda looks pale and strained at the mention of it. His last student.

Your voice is pitched low when you manage to blink away traitorous tears. The sound of your chair scraping is loud and grating against your ears as you stand. They all watch you silently. Waiting.

“Ennoshita is buried here,” you say and the surprise on their faces is almost insulting. “So is Ayasaki’s little girl. We have a life here, one we built and fought for. The kids love it here, it’s as safe as it can get, and it’s isolated from the turf wars in the city. You know why we chose this place, you were part of the vote that decided it, Tanaka.”

Deep breath in. Out.

“I know I’m asking for a lot, but it’s necessary, and we’re all up to the task simply because we have to be.”

As far as motivational speeches go, you’re sure this is ranked pretty low. But Daichi straightens and Kuroo’s eyes are gleaming as he stares at you. Kiyoko is almost smiling and you take that into both of your hands and hold on for dear life.

“I have to protect them.”

Everyone in the room opens their mouth at pretty much the same time but Ukai beats them all to the punch with his lazy drawl.

“You’re a moron,” he sneers. “An absolute idiot if you think you’re doing any of this alone. Now run along and get some breakfast before Suga drags you there by your hair.”

~~~

It doesn’t surprise you when Kiyoko finds you later, on the roof, scribbling half-mad ideas into a plain notebook. She always knows where to find you.

“I think you should stay home tomorrow,” she says without preamble. The word home nearly sends you stumbling off the roof.

“Why? Am I dying and I don’t know it?” you ask dryly. The look she levels at you nearly makes your heart stop.

“We agreed to let Kuroo go tomorrow,” she explains, settling into the spot next to you, peering curiously at the notebook in your hand. “But you haven’t been sleeping and we can’t afford to lose you because you’re too tired to stand properly.”

You scowl. Damn the four eyes. Her and Takeda know too much for their own good.

“I’m fine,” you wave a hand dismissively. “I’ll get some rest tonight, promise.”

She let’s the matter go, which is a point for you, but you watch warily as she opens her mouth again.

“Tanaka is looking for you.”

A sigh.

“I should apologize.”

“That’s what he said.”

A laugh, short and barking, escapes you. Kiyoko smiles at the sound.

“We’re all such idiots.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #zombie!au #haikyuu zombie!au #this is purely self indulgent #kuroo x you #kuroo angst #my writing #yanna speaks #text #fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

countryroads · 3 years

Text

check in tag game! thank you emily for tagging me 😁😁 @rosefinchs

tagging any mutual or follower who wants to do it and if you do please please tag me, because i am very nosy 😄

no pressure to do it as i’m not tagging anyone specific but PLEASE if you are like “she didn’t tag me i can’t do this” please know you absolutely can and i want you to

why did you choose your url?

- me and emily made this blog together and we had been obsessed with the song and even made a little playlist for it that mostly ended up just being our favorite driving through the country songs. anyways we were like YES let’s see if it’s open and it WAS so we snatched it. she’s moved to another blog now but i still love the url!

any side blogs? if you have them: name them and why you have them

-nope! i get really scared about posting to the wrong blog so i just don’t have sideblogs. i also would be making them for like specific fandoms or whatever but bc my hyperfixations change so frequently i don’t wanna bother with it lol

how long you’ve been on tumblr?

- i joined in uhhhhhhh. 2013 i think BUT i made a new blog in 2016 and then i made this one in 2018

do you have a queue tag?

- yes lol my entire blog is a queue basically. it’s q because i hate typing out category tags and it’s the fastest lmao

why did you start your blog in the first place?

- me and em were into the cottage core thing a bunch when it first came out and thus made a blog for it but i have tried to move away from it as a blog theme

why did you choose your icon?

- felt cute in the photo and didn’t know what else to make it lol

why did you choose your header?

-blog name is countryroads and that was a photo i took of some country roads

what’s your post with the most notes?

-i think it’s uhhhhhhh. i think it’s my “have you ever laid with cat sleeping in the sun?” post or smth. idk it was a few years ago

how many mutuals do you have?

-idk exactly how many but i love making mutuals ! i have quite a few i believe

how many followers do you have?

- last i checked it was 15,904 i think but it may have changed!

how many people do you follow?

- 114. i like being able to go through my whole dashboard so i unfollow blogs every once in a while

have you ever made a shitpost?

- of course lol

how often do you use tumblr each day?

- often lmao. i like checking my friends blogs and stuff and getting through the dash. i haven’t this past week as i’ve been camping but i’m back at it

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

- no lol this is a thing ppl do?

how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

-spite and anger. if i was going to reblog a post and then a bunch of people spam that i will see if i can delete the addition and if i can’t i won’t reblog it.

do you like tag games?

yesssss i LOVE tag games please tag me in themmmmmm even if we don’t know each other

do you like ask games?

- yes although i haven’t done one in a while. i might soon though lol

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

- charlie doebt for SURE is tumblr famous. they are my tumblr famous bestie.

do i have a crush on a mutual?

i used to but i don’t anymore! i currently have a little friend crush on a mutual but no actual crushes

tysm for tagging me em <3<3<3

#tag games

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

Text

Walk Me Home - Ch 6

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension.

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level), swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 1775

Author’s Note: All my thanks @mskathywriteswords , @fangirlxwritesx67, and @cracksinthewalls for making this story way better than it started. Thank you to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. Also, hang on to something. This chapter is short, but it packs a bit of a punch.

I’m working on a follow-up to my Dean story Dear Mr. Fantasy that I hope to post sometime in the next few weeks. Check it out, if you haven’t, and let me know if you’re interested.

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 6

“I think we can officially call this morning a bust,” Kimber declares, collapsing into her office chair. Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead with one hand, the other propped on his hip. He doesn’t disagree.

“We checked the grad student office where I found Allen,” she says, checking off her mental list as she goes. “You checked out the stairwell where Helen fell. We found zilch in Dr. Lawrence’s office, and nothing here, as well. What’s next?”

“I’ll check in with Sam,” Dean decides, pulling out his cell. “Then maybe some lunch, and if Sam’s done, we’ll meet him at your place so we can start there. Sound good?”

She nods as Dean hits a button on his phone, raising it to his ear and turning away. Kimber’s eyes follow him as he paces the front of her small office, waiting for his brother to pick up. She stretches in her chair, feeling drowsy after the morning’s exertion, and she realizes she’s going to have to get up if she doesn’t want to fall asleep at her desk.

She moves towards the door, mouthing, “Bathroom,” to Dean, who nods as he listens intently to Sam. The brisk air in the corridor is bracing after the still warmth of her little office, and she takes a deep breath before turning towards the restrooms. The hallway is as close as the department gets to being crowded, with several classes letting out simultaneously.

She pushes through the throngs of chattering students, smiling at a few of her own, intent on getting to the bathroom before it fills up, when she feels a light tap on her shoulder. Kimber turns, but before she has time to register anyone’s face, she feels something thrust into her outstretched palm.

…

Orange and red leaves flutter around her, joining the dense carpet of their brethren beneath her feet. Footsteps crunch before her, and she can see Dean just up ahead, her backpack slung over his shoulder. Dean never carries a backpack of his own, so they must have just finished a study session. He glances back, eyes alight with mischief, grin firmly in place.

“You comin’?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just continues his casual saunter down the path as autumn rains down around them. “Wanna show you somethin’.”

She hurries to catch up, waving a stray leaf out of her face. The ground feels strange underfoot, too firm, her footfalls too loud for such a thick layer of leaves, but she’s too focused on Dean to pay much attention. Someone calls out behind them, but she’s determined to not be left behind a second time.

No matter how fast she runs, though, he stays a few paces ahead with his steady, cartoonishly slow pace, and she grits her teeth in frustration.

Molasses would be an improvement.

“You’re gonna love this, sweetheart. C’mon, it’s just up ahead.”

Their pursuer calls her name, closer this time, but Dean is right there, and if she can run just a little faster, she can catch him. She swats several leaves from the air, her mouth twisted in a frustrated frown, reaching out to Dean.

“Kimber! Stop!”

A voice echoes from behind her, but then Dean turns, holding his hand out, and she stretches her fingers, her feet leaden as she drags her body forward. He smiles encouragingly, curling his finger to beckon her closer, his other arm spread wide to reveal his surprise.

The trail ends abruptly at a sidewalk that leads to a house very similar to her parents’ old place (“They moved years ago,” she thinks), a house that was definitely not there before Dean pointed it out. The front door stands open wide, welcoming, as a sleek, black muscle car pulls up to the curb out front. Her eyes track the car’s approach, and she registers the name “Winchester” on the mailbox.

Breathing suddenly becomes very difficult.

As she watches, a couple slides out of the front of the Impala. Kimber’s eyes widen in shock as she recognizes herself and Dean, though not older as they are now. Younger, maybe just a few years out of high school.

But that’s not right, she thinks, her eyes flicking to seventeen-year-old Dean standing before her, urging her closer still. We’re not...we’re in high school, we aren’t grown...

The Dean before her holds his hand out silently, waiting as she struggles towards him. So close! she thinks. The voice behind her, so familiar, calls her name again, but her mind is foggy, distracted by young Dean and the phantom scene before her.

The couple embraces next to the car, blissfully unaware of their audience as Dean sweeps Kimber off her feet and carries her up the walkway. As they disappear into the house’s interior, she can hear her other self squealing happily as the door swings shut.

“I...can’t…”

Dean smiles at her, that sweet, just-a-touch shy smile that won her over so many years ago.

“It’s my dream, Kimber. We could still have it, if you want?” His eyes, so earnest, beg her to take just one more step. “Take my hand. It’s not too late for us. I’m right here.”

“Kimber, stop! Listen to me!”

She almost turns, the voice behind her is so desperate and beseeching, but Dean shakes his head. His smile widens, and he opens both arms to her, offering himself fully.

“It’s our last chance. Come to me, Kimber. This can be ours, sweetheart. You and me, just the two of us. Just take that last step. You can do this.”

She wants to, so very badly. Her mind pulls towards Dean, smiling and hopeful, and she wants with almost every part of herself to take that step, take his hand, and live happily ever after.

But deep in her heart, she knows none of this is true. The Dean before her left, no matter how unwillingly, and she hasn’t heard from him until yesterday. Neither of them are seventeen any more, and this dream was never possible for either of them, no matter how much they wanted it.

“No...no...you’re not…”

He frowns, his expression suddenly cold, alien, and absolutely furious. His features harden, and he turns to her completely, squaring himself and giving her his entire focus.

“Come here, Kimber. Take the damn step. Now.”

“No!” She doesn’t know where this reserve of strength is coming from, but she welcomes it. The fog begins to lift from her mind a little, and she manages half a step backwards.

Dean’s lip curls in a snarl, and she wrenches herself away, fighting to move in any direction but forwards. She throws herself back, expecting to fall, hoping the leaves will cushion her, planning to roll away.

Instead, she finds herself supported by strong arms that flood her senses with immediate relief. Something is jerked from her hand, and the autumn scene complete with the monstrous teenage Dean vanishes. The wind whips Kimbers hair in front of her face, and she looks down to see…

Nothing.

Arms pull her back from the edge of the building, and she chokes on a scream. Her self-defense training kicks in, and she throws her head back, trying to catch her assailant’s nose.

“Kimber, it’s me! I’ve got you, don’t fight!”

It takes a second for Dean’s voice to register, and by the time she realizes she’s safe, she’s already planted her elbow square in his gut. He releases her with a pained wheeze, doubling over, holding up a placating hand towards her. She realizes in a detached sort of way that she is breathing way too shallow and fast, but she can’t seem to stop.

“Breathe,” he wheezes at her, trying to straighten up. Something about the ridiculous sight of Dean telling her to breathe when he can barely pull in his own breath cuts through her panic for a moment, and she almost laughs. Her head whirls, colors starting to blur together.

From the view and the drop-off, she guesses they’re on the roof, though she’s never been up here before. She looks to Dean as her vision tunnels and a rushing noise fills her ears.

“Dean...Dean, you were...what did I…you said it was…”

Dean struggles upright and takes her face between his hands, forcing her to focus on him. “Breathe, honey. You’ve gotta breathe right now. Can you do that for me? Breathe with me. Slow, deep.”

She struggles to imitate him, and her lungs finally unlock enough to let in a reasonable amount of air.

“Kimber, I’ve gotta burn this thing. I don’t know if it can affect you from a distance. Just...here. Sit down right here. Keep breathing.” She drops where she’s told, lowering her head between her knees as she focuses on counting her breaths.

She can just make out Dean on the edge of her vision, crouching down. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket, flicks it, and lowers the flame to something on the ground before him. The object lights up with a whoosh of flame, and Kimber gasps as a searing bolt of pain flashes through her entire body before vanishing, leaving her feeling weak and shaking but finally, finally, back in control of herself.

Dean rises, stalks back over to her and drops to one knee, his fist pressing hard into the gravelled surface. He glares at the ground, his jaw clenching in a way that she’s glad is not directed at her. His nostrils flare, and his face flinches as he reaches some decision.

“I should never have let you go on your own. I’m not letting you out of my sight again until we gank this son of a bitch.”

She shrinks under the burning intensity of his words, and he closes his eyes for a second, wrestling with control of his anger. He holds a hand out to her, and she almost recoils, remnants of the vision burned in the back of her mind.

But this isn’t some sinister phantom leading Kimber to her death. She knows exactly who this is, and she trusts him implicitly.

Dean’s entire body relaxes when her palm touches his, and he drops his forehead to their joined hands. When he finally looks up at her, his eyes are green flame.

“I almost lost you. You were so close, Kimber, you were on the edge. I...”

He trails off, searching her face for a heavy moment. Without warning, he slides forward, releasing her hand to pull her face to his, kissing her with a fierceness that steals her breath and leaves her glad she’s already on the ground.

…

Chapter 7

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bonsaiiiiiii · 4 years

Text

100 Weird AU's? Yes.

So, I had these AU prompts on my phone for quite a while, and I was actually thinking about using them. And what better way to do it than using them with the Tracy's?

Reading and reading these prompts again (and under the gentle guidance of @willow-salix ) I thought that these prompts doesn't exactly match the brothers' everyday situation, but what if we push it past its limit? Yes, biting more that you can chew can be a little difficult, but I don't think it will be impossible. And that's where this challenge is born!

Get the Tracy's out of International Rescue's bubble and let them live an everyday situation as normal people! They can also be medieval nobles or even futuristic robots, the choice's up to you! You can choose from soo many things others don't even think about (and not even me, for a while)!

Many thanks to @tag2060 for the cover and @willow-salix for the support (both emotional and 'fic-ical'. I love both of you💚

NOTE: THESE PROMPTS AREN'T ALL MINE. I TOOK THEM FROM A GIRL I'M NOT IN CONTACT WITH ANYMORE, BUT I WAS TOLD I COULD USE THEM. ALL CREDITS FOR THESE AU'S GO TO HER, WHATEVER IS HER NAME (lmao). THE GOLD MARKED ONES (7, 11, 20, 23, 39, 47, 63, 64, 70, 83, 89, 91, 93, 96, 100) ARE ALL MINE, IN SUBSITUTION OF A FEW THAT WERE THERE, SO CREDIT FOR THE GOLDEN MARKED ONES GOES TO ME, BUT NOT EVERY ONE OF THEM.

NOTE²: SOME OF THE PROMPTS CONTAIN STRONG THEMES, LIKE DEPRESSION AND SEXUAL CONTENT. IF YOU'RE SENSIBLE TO THESE THEMES, DON'T DO THEM, NOBODY FORCES YOU IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ:･ﾟ✧(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

To participate in this challenge, all you have to do is take one of the AU prompts from the list, one or more (or all) Tracy characters, and post your fic (can be a ficlet, or a series) under the tag #100weirdTracys and #100weirdAUs.

If you don't want to participate, please don't harass/bully me. I made this challenge just for fun, and I don't want for it to feel like something bad. In fact, I don't even regret doing this thing, even if it's strange.

Ah, I almost forgot: this challenge will be over in December, so you have 4 months to choose a prompt and make a fic about it. On December I'll review all the fics, but I'll always be reblogging and reading during these 4 months lol.

If you want to tell me something, hit me up on DM's! I hope you have fun with those prompts and those bois!

(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ(づ￣ ³￣)づ

TO RESUME:

• Swearing is allowed.

• You can write as many words as you want!

• Oc's and muses can pop in too!

• Make sure to tag your fic(s) under the '#100weirdTracys' and '#100weirdAUs' tags, so that I can find them easily.

• Always tag or contact me if you need help with anything! I'll be more than glad to help you!

• If you decide to do the mature prompts (19, 90, just to state an example) please refrain from using a too mature language and don't go further than making up. I don't like that kind of language, so it would be peachy to just avoid writing so they make wild sex behind a bush. Any kind of very mature fic or language won't be read by me, I'm sorry. You can still use those prompts, but don't work their bed life too much.

• Any dialect or first language apart from english is more than welcome in this yard! I would love even to read snippets of foreign language in fics, as long as there's a translation near it, but you're not forced to write in another language. If you don't feel comfortable doing it just don't do it, even if I'm telling you. (For the record, I love Irish so much I could listen to a person speaking this language for hours and you won't hear me complaining).

• I will accept this challenge in whatever form it takes, be it a fic, a drawing, a song, etc. I’m open to anything and I watch everything that comes before me!

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

That said, you can find the prompts down here:⬇️

#1 I saved you from drowning!AU

#2 I broke into your house at two in the morning because I was drunk and I thought it was my house!AU

#3 I am a door-to-door seller please buy something!AU

#4 I grabbed the wrong luggage at the airport!AU

#5 I know we hate each other, but a wedding would be more convenient for both of us!AU

#6 I accidentally poured you a love potion!AU

#7 I sent you 12 messages but you left me on read!AU

#8 I am your secret admirer and I leave you anonymous cards!AU

#9 Sorry, but I was first in line!AU

#10 We don’t know each other but let's pretend to be together because someone is bothering me!AU

#11 We pack up to do a funny trip but we end up in Bolivia without fuel!AU

#12 Locked in quarantine and we're bored! AU

#13 I do everything to find out the identity of this superhero and you try to mislead me because it’s really you!AU

#14 I got into a taxi just to find out it was already occupied!AU

#15 I called the wrong number!AU

#16 I got into the wrong car OMG I'm ashamed, but while you’re there why don’t you give me a ride!AU

#17 I found a wallet and my business is to find the owner and return it!AU

#18 I am a street artist and you complain that I play in front of your house at night!AU

#19 I caught you watching porn!AU

#20 We're two strangers that start chatting while waiting for the bus!AU

#21 Nosy and sloppy roommates!AU

#22 Old childhood friends who come back after years!AU

#23 I got shot to the arm/leg but you're there to save me and OMG ILY!AU

#24 We’re sitting next to each other on a plane and please don’t throw up on me!AU

#25 We accidentally switched phones!AU

#26 We are both contestants in a reality show and let's pretend to be together because the audience will ship us!AU

#27 I am a wedding planner and my ex’s wedding had to happen to me!AU

#28 I learned sign language to communicate with you!AU

#29 Professional model and novice photographer!AU

#30 Sorry I ran you over!AU

#31 We make out and then I find out that you are my roommate’s boyfriend!AU

#32 I’m quoting aloud the last book of a series and I’m spoiling you!AU

#33 It is a universally acknowledged truth that a bachelor with a large fortune must be looking for a wife!AU

#34 I am a Partisan and you are a fascist!AU(Italy during World War II!AU)

#35 I am the blood of the dragon!AU (Iron Throne!AU)

#36 Your dog is hitting on mine!AU

#37 I’m depressed and I decide to call a hotline!AU

#38 You are my soulmate but I am in love with someone else!AU

#39 Strange encounter at tattoo shop!AU

#40 On my mark, unleash hell!AU(Roman Empire!AU)

#41 I am an Elf, don’t look at me for ears I am ashamed of!AU(The Lord of the Rings!AU)

#42 Maybe my life should be more than just survival!AU(The 100!AU)

#43 I am an activist and I am trying to convert you to the cause!AU

#44 We are occupying the school but you are a spoilsport!AU

#45 All our friends are drunk and we're not!AU

#46 We’ve been together for three months and now you’re telling me you’re a werewolf!AU

#47 X has to go into a rocket to the moon and Y has to train X!

#48 Knight in shining armor and damsel in distress!AU

#49 We reluctantly team up against the zombie apocalypse!AU

#50 I’m a vampire and your smell is driving me nuts!AU(Twilight!AU)

#51 Monsters have attacked the Earth and the only way to save humanity is aboard giant robots piloted by two people who must maintain a mental union!AU(Pacific Rim!AU)

#52 My timer stopped as soon as I saw you!AU(Soulmate!AU)

#53 I need a lawyer and you are the best!AU

#54 I’m a Viking and I plundered your ship!AU

#55 I’m a classic dandy from the Regency Age and you’re just a silly girl from the lower middle class!AU

#56 I’m a policeman and you’re an intrusive journalist and I really shouldn’t give you any information about the new murder!AU

#57 You are a wannabe actress and I am a theatrical director who is losing patience and health!AU

#58 Due to a computer error, X and Y become college roommates!AU

#59 X wants to see the world of Y, how he lives and what he usually does, and ends up spending a night in prison!AU

#60 I attend the yoga course just to watch how flexible the instructor is!AU

#61 I am a bounty hunter and you are my prey!AU

#62 I am a secret spy and pretend to be your friend only to get information about your father!AU

#63 I discuss with you about a thing but you have in mind another!AU

#64 We are forced to be best friends just because our moms were best friends too but you're too bossy for me!AU

#65 We broke up but I never changed emergency contacts and now I’m in the hospital and they called you!AU

#66 I am an angel and you are a demon!AU

#67 I hit you on the balls during a game of paintball and oh my god I am so sorry!AU

#68 We live in a dystopian world where your partner is chosen by society!AU(Matched!AU)

#69 I’m a dragon trainer I’ll prove to you that they are peaceful creatures!AU(Dragon Trainer!AU)

#70 Date at japanese restaurant!AU

#71 You’re a cheerleader and I’m a punk and we live in two different worlds!AU

#72 I was a zombie and I was "re-animated" but you treat me like I’m still a monster!AU(In the Flesh!AU)

#73 I am your son’s teacher and I am calling to talk to you about his conduct, would he also come to dinner with me!AU

#74 I am an Achaean warrior and you Trojan and we are fighting the Trojan War!AU

#75 I met my asshole boss at the bar but I found out he’s pretty cool!AU

#76 It was not my intention to touch your ass, it’s just that the bus is crowded, it’s not my fault ok!AU

#77 I went fishing and accidentally fished a mermaid!AU

#78 I just committed a crime and I need to use you as a hostage!AU

#79 You’re the bastard who always parks in front of my door and in spite I’ll scratch your car!AU

#80 I accidentally went back in time and fell in love with you, too bad you’re a barbarian!AU

#81 I urgently need you to fix my computer but please don’t judge me for my chronology!AU

#82 I work on the cruise ship where you are spending your holidays!AU

#83 I'm out in the rainstorm without an umbrella because the weather forecast was sunny!AU

#84 I hugged the wrong person from behind!AU

#85 Celebrity on the run and ordinary citizen confused!AU

#86 Stuck in a ranch cleaning horse poop but it doesn’t matter because that cowboy is a badass!AU

#87 We got married in Vegas, but we’re total strangers!AU

#88 But, officer, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was just smoking a joint, want a hit!AU

#89 X is an astronaut and Y is a weird but funny alien that likes to scream, overreact and laugh!AU

#90 I slept with you for a bet but I loved it and I’d like to keep seeing you!AU

#91 I reveal to some friends that you wear boxers/underwear with green aliens on them but you're behind me and oh gosh total shame!AU

#92 Oops I accidentally entered a busy dressing room!AU

#93 You're a stranger but I keep crossing paths with you and I'm kinda confused right now!AU

#94 X is a medium and Y a ghost!AU

#95 X is a guardian angel and Y wants to die!AU

#96 X accidentally enters in a cat and Y has to rescue it from up a tree!AU

#97 X risks losing the house because Y’s company wants to buy the land!AU

#98 I’m an artist and I need a model do you want to pose for me!AU

#99 I’m not really sick but the new doctor is so beautiful that I found out I have a disease with an unpronounceable name!AU

#100 A strange job application!AU

φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)φ(．．)__φ(．．)

If you find them more practical, I also have some photos down here with all the prompts organized:⬇️

That said, enjoy! Hope it brings you joy and makes you happy while you do it!💙💚🧡💛❤💜💖🖤

#100weirdTracys #100weirdAUs #Thunderbirds are go #ThunderChallenge #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #oc's #muses #fic #drawings #first challenge ever!#enjoy!

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dreamlikepoetica · 4 years

Text

🌕 Full moon messages for the signs 🌕

Apply to your sun, moon, rising, and venus ✨

Aries: You are in your feelings right now. A spiritual journey will start soon, or is already happening. Abundance, love, and career that you've been manifesting are just around the corner. You're aligned with your higher self. Show your gratitude. Don't be too lazy. Take your time just enough. Prepare yourself because Mars will retrograde soon (Sept 9). Look for houses where your Mars in your chart. (10 of cups, ace of cups, the emperor rx)

Taurus: Don't be too nosy of other people's business. Avoid unnecessary drama and conflict. You've got dreams and big goals to reach, but manifesting is useless if your energy don't match the blessings that are about to come. There's jealousy and unhealthy competition here. Could be you or someone towards you. Release your resentment this full moon. Forgive them. Forgive you. All the problems will be solved soon, but only if you stay focused and committed to what you're doing. Don't be afraid to ask someone expert for a suggestion. (2 of swords rx, 3 of cups rx, 6 of swords, 3 of pentacles)

Gemini: Ah, Geminis, you're exhausted, aren't you? I feel heavy when I read your cards. Maybe you've been in a toxic environment for too long and you can't stand it anymore or someone drives you crazy. For some others, you're going too fast and too far. You'll burn yourself out before you get to see your dreams come true. You're asked to slow down and take rest. This full moon you need to rejuvenate your soul. Sit down and meditate. After that, you can get back to the game again! (Temperance rx, 4 of swords, page of swords)

Cancer: This full moon you are born anew, Cancer! You're waking up to your new reality! No more denying your worth, your destiny. You've accepted life the way it is - and it's joyful! New days are here. No more sadness. The sun has risen. You will fall in love again. You'll feel that butterfly in your stomach again. This time the connection is real and deep, even spiritual. You'll get more intimate yourself. You've healed. (The sun, 8 of wands, 2 of cups)

Leo: I see you working on something, Leo. You're learning a new skill, or will be soon. Make sure you're producing only high quality whatever it is. Don't be afraid to start anew! It's okay to admit that you don't know everything. The fact is, we're always a student in this lifelong journey. This full moon you're asked to let go of the fear of the new beginning. Look back to your childhood. Do you have a hobby that you've forgotten about? Start from there. (8 of pentacles, the fool rx, 6 of cups)

Virgo: Being 'tis your season, Virgo. You're exhausted. Maybe you've just lost your job, or your income decreased. You were so close to that stability, to that love, that dream job of yours, that future you've been dreaming of. Yet somehow it slipped off of your grip while you were holding it tight. The world fell apart in front of your very eyes. This full moon you're asked to heal your abandonment issues. This is a time for redirection. Pour that big love to yourself. You are worthy of love. (10 of pentacles rx, 2 of cups rx, the empress)

Libra: You found happiness, Libra. Long gone are those gloom doom days. You don't wanna keep this good news only for yourself. Therefore, you spread it to your surroundings. You attract good vibe people and good vibe people you shall get. Set your boundaries, tho. Not everyone will be wholeheartedly happy for you. But some will. Go where they are. (4 of wands, 3 of swords rx, the sun)

Scorpio: A completion of a cycle, what a good news for Scorpios! You've learned never not the hard way, it always is. These lessons made you wiser and more humble. You know your place in this particular grand scheme. Don't lurk onto the past, no matter how alluring it is. If you do, you'll stay there forever. You'll always run in circle in that old sad cycle you've just completed. You don't want that, right? You don't force anything anymore. Let alone manipulating something or someone. This full moon you're asked to let go of control. Enjoy the unknown. Live for the uncertain. The world is ready for you. (The world, the hierophant rx, knight of wands rx, 4 of pentacles rx)

Sagittarius: You are the empress, buddy! You feel confident in your skin. You know you can always gracefully get what you wanted. You are also in touch with your inner feelings. Just before this full moon, you've just seemed to face some injustice. I feel like this is about your relationships with others. Take what resonates. This caused an imbalanced in your life. You thought you've lost yourself due to this pain. Don't be too hard on yourself. Don't blame yourself for choices you've made. We've all been there. This full moon you need to let go of those regrets. You can never change the past. Accept it and move on. A new love will knock on your door soon. Take chances, luv. (The empress, justice rx, ace of cups)

Capricorn: Caps, what's wrong baby? You feel this intense feeling of sadness. The next second, you laugh uncontrollably. Please, don't wear your tough mask this time. Just accept your feelings. Control it. Don't run from it. You let people run over you. Hit you here and there. Now you're left with this anger that you didn't stand for youself as you should. This full moon you are asked to let go this inner anger. Remember, no one win in a conflict. Both of you and the other person are losing. You don't need someone to rely onto. You got you. (Queen of cups rx, 5 of swords rx, 4 of pentacles rx)

Aquarius: You are losing your balance here. I feel something or someone triggered you so much that you exploded. You just wanna sit down in a quiet place, right? But with all the chaos, it seems impossible to relax. You have to chill, man! Rushing won't bring you further or faster. You want to change, but you closed off as soon as you see change about to happen. You know what, you can't dictate the Universe. The wheel is still rolling. Your life will be transformed into something greater. Trust life. This full moon let go of control issues. But since you're so fixated on your own view, the Divine will intervene your life for you. (Temperance rx, king of pentacles ex, the wheel of fortune)

Pisces: You feel safe and protected, Pisces. You've found your soul tribe, or you'll soon find them. This is a place you can always return to. Cherish them. Celebrate life! You're working hard for the people you love and now you're harvesting your own labor. Cheers for you too! I know you are grateful for everything. But this doesn't meant you have to welcome people who deeply hurt you. Forgive them. Let them see you only from a distance. You're so sensitive to energy vampires. This full moon you are asked to accept life the way it is. Face your fear. You never know what's waiting for you in the future. Everytime fear tries to get into your head, remember the smiles of your loved ones when they see you. Wear smiles as your shield. It is strong enough to protect you. (10 of pentacles, 3 of cups, knight of swords rx, 10 of wands rx)

This is my first reading you guys 🥺 pls reblog and repost 🥺✨❤️

#tarot #tarotreading #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #full moon #tarot reading #divination

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twdeadfanfic · 5 years

Text

Don’t look back Pt.2/3

*Summary: Daryl is used to his brother coming and going out of his life, leaving him alone, since he was a kid. He’s used to Merle meaning trouble too, and to be dragged into all his messes as Daryl loyally follows his brother. But this time Merle’s mess has reached top and has affected more people than the brothers, and Daryl finds himself wanting to step in and fix it, as once again he’s left alone by his brother. Inspired by me wondering how Daryl felt about having always done as Merle says and yet being always left alone, and especially by wondering how is Daryl so good with kids, handling baby Judith so good, like a pro since day one.

*Tags/Warnings: There’s cute stuff here, but the main tag is Angst. Daryl’s pov, there’s an OC (well…two…), but still, this is mostly a Daryl Dixon fic. Once again, this gets pretty angsty, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Another chapter more! Are you enjoying this?

Also, I’ve been reblogging some pictures of Norman Reedus that I’ve called “young Daryl” and some gifsets that I think kind of have a bit of the vibe of this mini-series. If you want to check it, this is the tag: Don’t look back (Sorry but tumblr doesnt allow me to direct link it)

Link to my masterlist with my other works can be found on the description of this blog. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but tumblr doesn’t show posts with links in the tags.

---

Weeks pass, turning into months, and Daryl feels as if time flies, alone without his brother but not so alone anymore now that he sees Claire and Emily more often than not, having lunch with them sometimes again or just walking with them when they go out for a walk. Emily is eating more things than milk now so Daryl does his best to hunt for her so Claire has fresh meat to make the purees. She always tells him that he doesn't have to but Daryl doesn’t care, it makes him feel useful and he doesn’t know any other way to help them.

He knocks at the door, some squirrels on his bag, and he can’t help his smirk when Claire opens. “You have puree on your face.”

“When I don’t have puree on my everything lately.” She rolls her eyes but smiles. “Come in.”

Emily is sat down on her high chair, a bowl of half-eaten puree in front of her, and she smiles when she sees him, happily babbling nonsense. Daryl can’t help his silly smile, he doesn’t think anyone has ever been so happy to see him, and he doesn’t know why the little girl seems to like him but he’s not going to complain.

“Could you please finish feeding her while I try to have less puree on me? He messes with you less than with me anyway, the little traitor.”

Daryl snorts quietly and nods, sitting down in front of Emily to try to spoon feed her while Claire goes to the bathroom.

“Come on, darlin’, I know, I don’t like peas either.” Daryl finds himself talking to the baby quite often when they are alone, but he would be mortified if someone would hear him. “What if I go on a hunting trip and bring you back some venison, uh? Don’t know if you can eat that…”

“You spoil her.” Claire’s teasing voice surprises him and he blushes, hoping she hasn’t been listening for long.

Daryl says nothing, busying himself with feeding Emily, eyes trained on the puree bowl, embarrassed Claire has caught him talking nonsense to the baby. She doesn’t say anything about it, though, just sits down next to him.

“You know, it just came to my mind, I hadn’t remembered it until now, but a long while ago I was with some friends and we saw you walking into the town with a big buck over your shoulders, it was quite a sight.” She chuckles quietly.

Daryl doesn’t hunt deer as often as squirrels or rabbits, they’re harder to find, further away from the town, but they feed him for longer and sometimes he manages to catch one. Claire mentioning her friends catches Daryl’s mind. In all those months, he hasn’t seen any of them, neither has Claire mentioned them, and he was convinced that somehow she didn’t have friends. Maybe it’s just that they don’t live there anymore?

“Where’re your friends now?” He asks, hoping Claire doesn’t find him nosy.

“Well, one by one they eventually left the town.” She begins to explain, as Daryl had thought. Most people end up leaving that town. “There’s a couple still here, but they…well…they don’t really like kids, you know, so when I got pregnant they told me they didn’t want to hang out with a baby cos they’re annoying and all that…and our lives were different anyway…” Claire shrugs awkwardly and Daryl frowns.

“That’s stupid.” He blurts out.

“There are people who don’t like kids so I’m not going to force them to deal with one, but I’m not going to leave Emily alone either.”

Still, it sounds like bullshit to Daryl, with everything that Claire has been going through. Daryl maybe doesn’t know much about having friends, but her friends should have been there, helping there and supporting her. At least that’s how Daryl sees it. He just hums, unsure of what to say, afraid Claire would be angry if he says what he thinks about his friends.

“I don’t talk to them anymore anyway,” Claire adds quietly.

“How’s that?” So she didn’t have friends anymore after all…

“Well, they said this thing…” Claire begins to fidget as she seems to think for the right words, and Daryl shifts his gaze from the bowl to her, he hasn’t seen her looking like that before. “When David, after what happened…you know. Well, they said that I…not I had it coming, but they kind of said I had brought it on myself and my situation was all my fault…guess they never really liked David that much, you know.”

Claire tries to sound nonchalant, tries to smile too, but her eyes are wet as she looks down and Daryl feels his blood boil at the idea of someone saying something like that to her, not only someone but her friends. He wants to find them and put an arrow on those pricks. Claire seems to notice or to see something in his face, because she reaches out to gently squeeze his arm and Daryl can’t help but flinch at the touch, but Claire doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s okay.”

“It ain’t okay. What a bunch of assholes.” Daryl tries not to sounds as angry as he feels, but he’s not sure if he manages.

“Yeah well, maybe I didn’t have the best taste in friends, did I?” Claire chuckles weakly. “But I’ve gotten lucky with the friends I have now.” She smiles to him but Daryl just blinks at her, a bit confused, he was just so sure she didn’t have friends, he doesn’t know who she’s talking about now or why they never seem to be around.”

“Who?”

“You, silly.” Her eyes are still wet but Claire laughs and Daryl finally gets it. He doesn’t know what to say, though, and Claire’s smile falters. “Cos…we’re friends…right?” She sounds unsure, as if she thinks maybe Daryl doesn’t think like that, and he rushes to nod.

“Yeah, yeah, we are.”

Daryl doesn’t think he has ever had a friend before, someone who’s not his brother, and he can’t help his smile. She’s her friend, they’re friends. The idea is a bit overwhelming and scaring, but mostly it just makes him oddly happy.

Daryl comes back from hunting earlier today and so he decides to walk past the park, see if Claire and Emily are there. He spots Emily playing in the sandbox, Claire sitting down at the side of it, both of them seeming uncaring about getting dirt and full of sand. Once again Daryl finds himself thinking about maybe taking them to the woods with him once day, once Emily’s bigger and she can talk and all, though he’s not sure if they’d want to.

There are a couple more kids playing in the small park and two women who Daryl assumes are their mothers, talking with each other, but they don’t seem to be paying any attention neither to Emily or Claire, no matter Daryl’s pretty sure there aren’t many other kids in the town and that’s the only park they have. He wonders if maybe they know who her husband was, or rather with which people he got involved, and that’s why maybe they are purposely ignoring Claire. Or maybe he’s just paranoid.

He’s unsure about approaching, but when Claire looks up and sees him, she smiles and waves, and so Daryl goes to sit down next to her. Emily smiles wide when she sees him and crawls towards him, and Daryl smiles seeing she has managed to get sand even in her head.

“We didn’t expect to see you today,” Claire says as she tries to brush some sand off Emily.

Emily reaches out to him and Daryl takes her but hands her to her mother. He can feel the judging eyes of the other women on him, or maybe he’s being paranoid again, but still, he hates it, it makes him self-conscious. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone there. And maybe if they see Claire hanging out with a Dixon they would want to talk to her even less, and she’d still be lonely, and Emily wouldn’t have friends and it’d be Daryl’s fault. He can feel the women’s eyes almost like they burn.

“Gotta go.” He mutters as he gets up.

“Me too, I’m going to have to scrub her for hours until she stops shedding sand.” Claire jokes, getting up and holding Emily. Daryl doesn’t look at her, he just nods and begins walking, trying to rush away from her and the park. Claire follows him, grabbing his wrist to make him stop, but Daryl keeps walking.

“Will you stop? Daryl, stop!”She walks around him to stop in front of him, and Daryl’s pretty sure she’s using the same voice than when Emily has done something she shouldn’t. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“Nothing.” He grumbles, but Claire raises an eyebrow at him without backing off, and Daryl gives in. “They were looking at me, I know what they think of me.”

“You know, Daryl, I know it’s hard to believe, but the world doesn’t spin around you.” Claire teases without malice, sounding fond even, but Daryl’s feeling too awkward for it to make him feel better. “You don’t know if they were looking at you, or what they think, or if they know you.”

“I know it,” He insists, stubborn. “And you know what they think of the Dixons around here.”

“Okay, let’s say you’re right.” Claire concedes, but Daryl knows she’s only going to fight him in another way. “Do you really care about what they think of you?”

“I don’t!” He snaps, no matter it makes him feel self-conscious.

“Alright, problem solved then.”

Daryl guesses she’s a bit right, he doesn’t care about them, they know nothing, they can think whatever they want, Daryl doesn’t care. But they’re going to be talking about Claire if they keep seeing her hanging out with him.

“They’re gonna think stuff about you too if they see you with me.”

“So? I don’t care what those gossipers think about me either.” Claire replies.

“But-”

“But nothing.” Claire stops him before he can say anything. “I don’t care, let them think and talk all they want. You’re my friend, Daryl, alright? That’s what I care about, and that’s not going to change. Believe it or not, but I’m pretty sure you’re way better than most of the people in this damn town.”

Daryl can’t help but feel a bit taken aback by her words, but a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He doesn’t think he had ever heard someone talk like that about him, he’s not sure he believes it, but he can’t help but be more than grateful for having a friend like her. He stills thinks that being seen with a Dixon isn’t the best for Claire and Emily, but Claire doesn’t seem to want to stop seeing him, and selfishly he doesn’t want her to stop. It makes everything better, less lonely, less harsh.

“Alright?” She repeats and Daryl nods, looking at her with a tiny, crooked smile. “Good. Hush about it now, then.” Before Daryl can say or do anything, she hands her Emily, whose grin as she holds onto him helps him feel almost magically better, with those strange warm feelings she gives him every time he holds her.

“How you managed to even get sand on your ears, sweetheart?” He murmurs quietly to her, chuckling softly, and as Emily babbles some nonsense Daryl can’t help but wonder if maybe she’s actually telling him about her day.

The sun is almost down when Daryl comes back into the town, later than he had realized. He had gone out further today, going to that place where he sometimes finds deer, an hour ride from the town.

He has come back with just a couple rabbits he plans on giving Claire. He doesn’t care that much though, it had been nice, he hadn’t gone on a ride in a while now and he realizes how much he had missed it. He has taken his brother’s bike instead of his, he always liked it more and Merle’s not around, though Daryl can almost hear and see his brother if he were to find out. Which he won’t.

He rides directly to Claire’s house before it gets even later, parks outside the house and knocks on the door. Nothing. He tries the bell again but still, nobody opens and there’s no noise coming from inside. They’re never out that late, always coming home before the sun goes down.

Daryl can’t help but worry. Maybe something had happened, something wrong and they’d had to go out. Or maybe something happened to them. All kind of worried thoughts knot his stomach and he turns around and back to his bike, but he doesn’t know what to do, where to look for them, where to check if they are okay. There’s a small voice in his head wondering if maybe Claire didn’t decide to just take her things and leave that shit town for good without telling him, but Daryl can’t think she’d do that.

Before he can get on his bike, though, he sees Claire walking up the street, Emily strapped to his back now with the scarf. Both of them smile when they see him, seeming good enough, helping Daryl relax a bit.

“Hey! I hope you haven’t been out here for too long, I didn’t know you were visiting today, sorry.” Claire greets him but her smile falters when she sees Daryl’s face and he wonders if he does look worried. “There’s something wrong?”

“No, just…you weren’t here and it was late…” He’s embarrassed he panicked like that just because Claire and Emily weren’t at home and he doesn’t want to tell Claire. She seems to notice, though, because she gives him a sweet smile and reaches out to squeeze his hand.

“We were in the park and I lost the track of time a bit.” She chuckles as she goes to open the door. “Do you want to have dinner with us? Since you are already here.”

Daryl hesitates for a couple of seconds but finally he nods, following Claire inside. Claire unwraps the scarf and leaves Emily on a big blanket that is spread on the floor with some toys, but the little girl crawls towards Daryl, babbling, and so he picks her up. Daryl feels like time has fled since that first time he held her but Emily looks way bigger now, he wouldn’t be surprised to see her walking one of these days, though Claire says it’s still too early.

“I was just going to reheat some leftovers, if that’s alright?” She asks and Daryl nods, it’s already enough she asked him to come in for dinner, he doesn’t want her to have to cook.

Daryl remembers the rabbits he has in his bag, he had all but forgotten, and he leaves Emily on her blanket, hoping she’d be entertained enough with the toys while he cleans the rabbits. He starts to work in silence while dinner heats in the oven.

“Thank you, Daryl,” Claire says when she sees what he’s doing, and she picks up Emily who was again crawling around and sits her on her high chair. “You really don’t have to bother hunting so much for us.”

“Ain’t a bother.” He doesn’t mind, likes to be out in the woods anyway, may as well bring them some food.

Claire smiles softly and begins feeding Emily her puree before Daryl and her have their dinner. “We met someone new at the park today, another mom and her kid, she’s a couple months older than Emily.” She begins to explain. “And I think we might be friends? We’re meeting tomorrow at the park again. That’s why I didn’t realize how late it was, we were just talking and talking for hours.”

Daryl is still working on the rabbits but he stops to look at her over his shoulder at that. That’s good, he guesses, Daryl has never liked that Claire doesn’t have none else, isn’t friends with any other of those mothers at the park, and he has always thought that it’d probably be good for Emily to have other kids to play with. It seems it has finally happened.

So Daryl doesn’t understand why a sudden fear grips him at her words, why his stomach twitches as if he had been kicked. It’s good that Claire has another friend…a better one, probably. So maybe now she wouldn’t need him to be around anymore, she wouldn’t want to hang out with him, why, when she has a new friend who can understand her better. It’s good for her, it’s what she deserves. It feels like a kick to the gut.

Claire’s looking at him and so he forces himself to speak. “Good.” Claire eyes him like she feels something is off, but she keeps talking.

“She’s called Laura and I think she got a divorce a couple months ago or something, she wanted a change of air so she has moved here with some distant relatives…I don’t think it’s going to take her long to see what shit this town is.” Claire chuckles. “I had a great time, honestly, she’s super nice. You should come to meet her, I think you might like her too.” Daryl lets out a noncommittal hum, he doesn’t really look forward to it. “What’s wrong?” She flat-out asks him.

“Nothing.” Daryl can’t look at her, feeling like an ass for being acting so selfish and not as happy for her as he knows he should, but he can’t help it. “It’s good you have a friend.”

“Well, I already had you.” Claire states matter of factly. “But yes, it feels nice to get to talk with another mom, you know.” Daryl doesn’t know, but he nods anyway. Claire frowns and approaches him and Daryl shifts awkwardly, half expecting her to call him out on his behavior. “Hey, you know you’re my best friend, right?”

Her words take Daryl aback more than they maybe should. They were friends, sure, Claire didn’t have anyone else and so she hangs out with him, but the idea of her thinking him her best friend feels different, and warm, and has Daryl smiling like an idiot as he blinks in surprise, looking dumbfounded and making her laugh. She’s his best friend too and one of the only people Daryl has ever felt like really cares about him.

His life feels better since he has her and Emily in it, since she’s her friend. He doesn’t know how to say that to her, though, and it makes him embarrassed, so he doesn’t think he’ll ever do.

“Come here, silly.” Claire wraps her arms around him to hug him and Daryl freezes for a moment, holding his breath until he relaxes enough to wrap his own arms around her. He pulls away when he realizes his hands are dirty from cleaning the rabbits and he’s staining her shirt.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you should have seen me the first time I tried to clean the rabbit you got me, it seemed I had murdered someone.” She laughs and Daryl gives her a tiny smile before getting back to work in silence while Claire sets the table.

“I mean it.” She says as they sit down to eat. “You have been helping me a lot. It has…it hasn’t been easy, you know, I try, but sometimes, it’s hard, and-” Claire trails off, her eyes getting wet, and Daryl feels that stab in the gut that he hadn’t felt in a while. “But everything is less hard thanks to you. You’re my best friend, the best one I’ve ever had. So I’m really glad I got to have you as my friend, and beyond grateful for all you do for Emily and me. You’re the best, Daryl.”

Daryl can’t look at her, his eyes trained on the floor, a lump on his throat as he’s overwhelmed by emotion. He doesn’t think someone has ever talked about him the way Claire does. He blinks quickly, embarrassed to feel his eyes wet. He wants to tell her that she’s his best friend too, that she’s the one making his life less hard, that he’s grateful she thinks all those things about him even though he doesn’t understand why, but he can’t say it, can’t find the words.

“I’m happy you’re my friend too.” It’s the only thing he can mutter, hoping that somehow she can understand all the things he doesn’t say, and if he can take the way in which Claire’s smiling at him as a clue, maybe it is.

Daryl feels strange going to see Claire without bringing her anything, but she had told him several times now that he doesn’t have to hunt something every time he wants to go, so instead, Daryl has a bottle with squirrel stew in his bag.

He knocks on the door and Claire opens, giving him a weak smile, but her eyes are puffy and rimmed red as if she had been crying, and worry grips Daryl’s stomach.

“There’s something wrong?”

Claire looks at him for a second before shaking her head no and Daryl steals glances at her as he walks inside, placing the bottle of stew on the table in case Claire wants it for lunch.

"Told you, you don’t have to bring something every time you come.” She tells him but Daryl just shrugs.

He looks around but Emily is not there, maybe she’s still at the kindergarten where she has been going lately. Claire works from home, so she doesn’t need Emily to be too long there, just a couple hours each morning, saying it allows her to get more work done and it also gives Emily the chance to play with more kids.

Claire is silent as she sits down on the sofa and Daryl feels awkward and out of place. Maybe she didn’t want the company, maybe he shouldn’t have gone, maybe she’s tired of Daryl visiting several days each week. He doesn’t know if he should leave or not, maybe he should ask. But Claire looks like she’s about to cry and so sad, sadder that he had seen her in a long while. He can’t leave her like that.

“Claire, what’s wrong?”

“You don’t know what day is today, do you? She asks, her eyes wet and Daryl shakes his head softly, clueless. “One year ago, today…well, you know what happened…”

Daryl hasn’t realized it was that day. Now he understands why Claire is like that and again an invisible dagger stabs him. Claire looks down, trying to hide her face as she cries and the stabbing gets worse. He doesn’t know what to do and so he just stands there.

“Crying like this while you look is a new level of embarrassment.” Claire chuckles softly, rubbing her eyes and Daryl feels bad but he still doesn’t know what to do. “I think you’re supposed to hold me or something.”

Daryl is hesitant, but he wants to do what he can to help her and so he sits down next to her and reaches out awkwardly, unsure of how to hug her. Claire smiles, chuckling quietly through her tears. She grabs one of his arms and pulls it around her and then she shifts closer to bury her face on the crook of his shoulder. Daryl holds her carefully, trying to help somehow as he feels his shirt getting wet with her tears.

Eventually, he feels her stop shaking and then Claire pulls back. “Sorry about this.” She sounds embarrassed.

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry about.”

Claire smiles softly and leans to press a soft kiss on his cheek, making Daryl blush, he can’t help but fidget awkwardly. “Have I told you that you are my best friend?” She asks and Daryl nods, how he could forget her saying that. "Seriously, Daryl, I don’t know what I’d have done without you this year. You’ve helped us more than what I could thank you. Thank you.”

Daryl doesn’t know what to say to that, her words of affection making him feel warm and cared for but also making him feel awkward and nervous. “Ain’t nothing.” It’s all he manages to grumble. Claire doesn’t seem to mind, she smiles again and leans her head on his arm, silent for a little while.

“It won’t be long until Merle can come back now? She asks and Daryl honestly doesn’t know.

"Maybe he can get an early release for good behavior, but that would be still in a lot of months.” Maybe three, maybe six, maybe another year, Daryl doesn’t know.

For a short while, Claire doesn’t say anything else. “I know you’re not seeing Emily and me anymore when Merle’s back.”

Daryl can only blink in surprise at her words. He didn’t know Claire thought like that. Daryl had never thought about leaving her, whether Merle is there or not.

“Ain’t leaving you both just cos Merle’s back.” He grumbles but Daryl has to admit she has a point.

He still remembers that first time they talked, how she told him she had never seen him not at his brother's side. He knows things are going to change when Merle’s back and he kind of feels his brother is not going to be too happy with this new friendship, but that doesn’t mean he won’t want to keep seeing Claire and Emily. He doesn’t plan to stop, doesn’t want to, not even with his brother there. He’ll find a way to make it work.

“I won’t.” He forces himself to speak his mind, awkwardness be dammed. “Merle’s my brother, but you’re my friend, I’m not going to stop seeing you and Emily. You’re my best friend too.”

His own words make him blush and he’s afraid of what Claire’s going to say. The way in which she grins at him makes it worth. Soon, though, Daryl is looking away from her again, fidgeting awkwardly.

Claire doesn’t push it more. She rubs her eyes and gives him another smile.

“Alright, I’ve gotta go pick up Emily.” She gets up. “Want to come with me? And then we can all have that squirrel stew for lunch?”

“Yeah, yeah sure.”

-------

Last chapter is coming on friday and it’ll be very, very angsty! I mean, I know this hasn’t been a happy fic, but we also have some quite stuff in it, right? More cute stuff coming, but quite a lot, lot of angst too. What you think, Daryl + baby? Do you find it as quite as I do? What are your thoughts on this fic?

Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it! If you have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in the comments, your feedback makes my day!

As always, English is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes.

If you want to be tagged (or removed from the tags) let me know!

@momc95 @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo @sapphire1727 @coffeebooksandfandom @crustyrose @checkintoreality @daddys-little-princess67 @sesshomaru-lover @crossbowking @coltcas @feartheendlesssummer @izumi37 @gruffle1 @cutiepiemimi13 @drina365 @kuolematkorjaavat @daeshaunex2 @twdeadlysins @stressed-lasagna @teenyforestfairy @yenne-yen-illustrations @mychemicalimagines @nikkipea @crazycatladyalustriel @miniprz @wolfkg @paybackbarnes @haleypearce @nikki082489 @dotslabyrinth @mtngirlforever @superflannel @blckbuttler @deanervs @linktheloveabledork @sourwolf-sterek32 @iminlokisarmysofi @traveleraroundsworld @deliciousassafrasssandwich @angelontheinside @friendly-black-cat @firehoopinmama @d0ntfitin @ivars-snowflake @mblaqgi @moraglefay

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 6 years

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Followers’ Favorite Fics for 1500

My Masterlist

WRITERS OF TUMBLR ASSEMBLE.

First of all, who doesn’t enjoy a little alliteration? (I know Jim Halpert does!)

I’m getting close to my 1,500 follower milestone and for my follower celebration I want to celebrate YOU-- the badass humans and writers of Tumblr! I know a lot of you guys write your own fanfiction, and that’s honestly a huge part of why I get on Tumblr! (and, you know, why I joined in the first place) So I’m using it as a thank you for reading my work or just tolerating my ridiculous hype and sexy man posts.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve read some fics that I’ve saved so I can selfishly reread them over and over again, some that have changed my life, and some that have made me sit here like

So with that being said...all you really have to do is TAG ME in your favorite work you’ve created so far. And then, you know, there’s a few other guidelines. haha. I’m a liar.

I’ll be petty and go first. Why? BECAUSE IT’S MY CHALLENGE AND I CAN! Muahahahahaha. Also, if someone else was doing this for their challenge, I’d want to know what their favorite works are.

Fav things I’ve written so far:

Fav. One Shot: Magnolias in the Country (Supernatural; Dean x reader angst)

Fav. Series: I’m No Hero (Marvel; Bucky x reader)

You don’t have to be following me but

Here are the rules:

This is OPEN TO ANYONE! TAG YOUR WRITING FRIENDS! Tag me in your absolute fav fic you’ve ever written or try your hand at writing for the first time!

I would prefer it be your favorite one shot, BUT I can’t help what your wonderful heart is proud of. It can be a series, but try to point out a specific part that was your fav. Like “part 7”. If you choose to shoot me a series, keep in mind it’ll take me a while to get to it because I’m forever behind on notifications.

It can be any genre-- fluff, smut, angst-- just tag the warnings accordingly.

Please, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, use the “Keep Reading” function if it’s over 500 words. It’s a beautiful tool :) And, unfortunately, I might not reblog if you don’t use it because I hate to clog my followers’ dashes.

It can be ANY FANDOM. Yep. I’m into SPN and Marvel, but I would never hold it against you if you wrote something for another fandom. Everyone has their favs, and who knows? Maybe someone will see your story on this masterlist (or vice versa), and you’ll find new friends to follow!

TELL ME WHY it’s your favorite or why you’re especially proud of it. Because I’m nosy and love hearing about why things matter to you. You can be as detailed or vague as possible. If it’s cool with you, I might even include a snippet of your explanation in the masterlist. Idk friends, I’m making this up as I go.

Haven’t written anything, but always thought about it?? Now’s your chance to give it a shot!! Writing has been such a wonderful outlet for me, and some of my friends that hesitated to share their stuff at first have really taken off with it. There’ll be no judgement from any of us, and this is a great chance for you to get your feet wet! Don’t ever let your fear of it “being bad” hold you back-- I promise whatever you create will strike a chord with someone and they’ll love it.

Try to send me an ask to let me know you’re wanting to participate! This will help me be a little more organized, keep an eye out for your tag, and make sure I include everyone that wants to participate. But definitely make sure you tag me in the A/N and use the tag #CapsFollowerFav1500

Make sure you tag me/send your submission by August 31.

YOU GUYS are the reason I’m almost to 1500, so I want to celebrate you, spread good vibes, and give you a never-ending list of kick ass stuff to read. You’re always here to cheer me on or build me up, and I want to help spread your work/HYPE you up in any way I can. So thank you for being you.

And, most importantly, sometimes it’s cool to go back and sift through old things we’ve written so we can fall in love with the story and the characters all over again. <3

SORRY FOR SO MANY WORDS.

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms @ain-t-bovvered @amanda-teaches @anjiep24 @babyimp1967 @because-imma-lady-assface @cassieraider @castielisalreadysaved @deangirl7695 @disagreetoagree @droidyouseek @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @fandomoniumflurry @flawless-disaster @grace-for-sale @growningupgeek @hooked-onfandoms @i-dont-give-a-buck @jenn0755 @katsanders @kileybird @loneliestlittlerainbow @memyselfandmaddox @msgreenverse @obsessivecompulsivespn @olkathefoxi @pickupthatamulet @sandlee44 @sarahisalright @sea040561 @sixweekcure4dreams @someday-when-you-leave-me @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @thewinterserpent @thisisbullytt @waywardbaby @waywardnerd67 @waywardrose13 @whimsicalrobots @wonderfulworldofwinchester @wonderfulwinchestersmut

Cap’s Marvel Crew:

@amoonagedaydreamer @asguardiansoftheavengers @bucky-and-loki @hdthdthdt @hottrashformarvel @marbleowl @palaiasaurus64 @scarlettsoldier @selina-kyle89 @tbetz0341 @universal-death-of-a-fangirl @the-wayward-robot @wintersoldierbaby

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@andkatiethings charliebradbury1104 @dean-winchesters-bacon @julesthequirky @neganismyobsession @pisces-cutie @salt-n-burn-em-all @sis-tafics

Other writers or people who may be interested:

@adoptdontshoppets @agentaguilera-kaz2y5 @animerose96 @becs-bunker @bobasheebaby @bojabee @cltex84 @dancingalone21 @destiel745 @donnaintx @earthtokace @imascio08 @iwriteaboutdean @jensenyourdeanisshowing @ladywinchester1967 @meganywinchester @mirandaaustin93 @nurse-unicorn @pheonyxstorm @pouterpufftrain @rileyrosebelluniverse @sing4mejensen @spnfangirl1965 @spntiel @srsllydunnodoncare @superapplepie16 @time-travel-bouqet @waywardlittleslytherpuffprincess @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @anotherwaywardsister @imagines--assemble @squirrel-moose-winchester @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @fvckingavengers @hooked-onfandoms @wheresquidsdare @ilostmyshoe-79 @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @katymacsupernatural @kdfrqqg @my-emotional-self @riversong-sam @supernatural-jackles @torn-and-frayed

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blackandfair · 6 years

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M*A*G*I*C: Chapter Two || T’challa Udaku

A/N: Hey yall. Thanks for clicking on this chapter. I know the first chapter was hella slow but that is my style of writing. I cant just jump to the good and action parts, it doesn't feel right to me. I always do a good build up. Please enjoy. Also, make sure to comment and reblog. You guys’ opinion is important and motivates me to keep this going.

Words: IDK. I don't count lol.

Warning(s): Weed usage, Mentioning of adult stuff....

{CHAPTERS} [1] [3] [4] [5] [6]

It was a quarter after 11 and you couldn't sleep. You tried everything. Orgasms, that tiny stash of weed Ju hid in your couch cushion. Drugs didn't really affect you like it did "normal" people. You could feel it working but nothing much came after. This is why you rarely went to the doctors and had your own version of "Medicines" made by your granny and witch doctors you can find. It had something to do with the "other" blood that was in your veins. The blood that the majority of your family refused to accept was there. Although you were majority human, you had other things in your family tree.

You were a hybrid. At least that what your grandmother told you. And your abilities spoke for themselves. You could fly, cast spells, and move things with your mind. This was the biggest secret you had. You spent your whole life hiding this.

You decided to take a walk. You couldn't stand staying inside anymore. The heat was killing you and you had long accepted that you were not going to sleep anytime soon. With the stank between your finger, you pull a sweater over your tank top and left your apartment. You stopped in your track when you saw your neighbor T'challa also coming out of his apartment.

"Ms.Jordan." He greeted. So formal.

"Mr. T'challa." You greeted back, " I would greet you by your last name too b-but you never told me it so..."

Mr.T'challa laughed.

"Why are you up so late?" you asked, instantly regretting it. You sounded nosy as hell. He was a grown man and whereabouts was none of your concern.

He gave you a small smile, " I could not sleep. I was thinking maybe a walk. Get a little fresh air."

"Fresh air?-" You laughed, " In New York? You're funny."

Mr.T'challa simply smiled at you, "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

"Sure."

"So, you're from Wakanda?" You asked.

T'challa nodded.

You guys were about 5 blocks from your complex and were sitting down on the steps of an abandoned building. You almost finished your blunt and offered T'challa the tiny rest that was left, which he kindly declined.

" I usually don't smoke." you told him out nowhere, " Honestly, I did it just now 'cuz I was bored. This shit doesn't work on me."

He laughed, "Really? What a waste."

" I don't give a shit. It was my cousin's weed anyhow."

You threw out the rest of the blunt, "So tell me more about Wakanda."

The biggest smile appeared on T'challa's face. He always smiles when Wakanda was mentioned. Nationalist much.

"You're so lucky." You commented after hearing some of the facts about Wakanda, " You know your tribe and your people. Black folks in America don't get that. That's why we walk around claiming to be native Americans and Hebrew and shit."

His face remains emotionless.

"Your girlfriend Wakandan too?" You asked already knowing the answer. They had the same damn accent.

T'challa raised a brow, "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah. That Shuri girl who plays the loud music. Isn't she your girlfriend friend?"

T'challa let out a noise of pure disgust.

"You guys are friends then. Sorry I assumed."

" Shuri is my little sister." He answered as a matter of factly.

You let out a laugh, " Oh my god. I'm so sorry. In my defense, you two look nothing alike."

T'challa didn't laugh. He was still disgusted that you would assume such a horrible thing.

You nudge him with your elbow, " I said I was sorry. Please forgive me."

"You are forgiven."

You laughed at him, "Why do you talk like that?"

You imitate his accent, " You are forgiven."

He rolled his eyes as you laughed.

"Are you certain that you are not high?" T'challa asked getting up.

" I am certain." You imitate him again.

T'challa sucked his teeth then walked away.

"HOLD UP " You ran after him, " T'challa!"

'WAIT UP!"

"Damn he's fast as hell. "

A/N: I will work on chapter 3. How did you guys like this chapter? Do you guys like Luna? Please comment and reblog. Let me know.

Tags: @princesskillmonger @kreolemami @uhlxis @blackmissmarvel @dacreskars @royallyprincesslilly @brianabreeze @idilly @dramaqueenambyororowrites @tchallamakesmeh0lla @tchallaswife @sisterwifeudakucaptiansaveasmut @theunsweetenedtruth @bubbleboss17

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written-rebellion · 6 years

Text

Perfect Distractions

A/N: Thanks so so much to everyone reading! I get deliriously excited whenever I see another like or reblog, especially since this is my first time posting any sort of fanfic on tumblr <3 <3 Extra special thanks to @scotsmanandsassenach @annalisedemoodboards @aruza83 @laythornmuse @fishermanslass @marshmallow0810 @rancar47 @underhillhobbitgirl @leftcoaster88 @annagoober for the reblogs and lovely messages and comments! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying the story :D

Also! Tiny bit of housekeeping, I’ve figured out a completely arbitrary (but now set in stone) schedule, to posting the next few chapters - just so my writing can stay ahead of the posts going up. You can expect new chapters every Thursday and Sunday (until/unless I hit some fatal attack of writer’s block). :)

Claire hates magnets, Jamie hates autopilot, and as always, all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think! #MurtaghMadeMeDoIt

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1]

Part Two: Separation Anxiety | Chapter 2

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was mulling over five different edits of a text message and seven different ways to make Joe Abernathy’s murder look like an accident.

She was leaning against a pillar just outside the lobby of her residence, thankful that most people were already either huddled up in their room or away at dinner. Or on dates. Like her.

Or not like her. Or possibly like her? She stomped her heel with a grunt, and then straightened her back, inhaling quickly through her nose as she hit send without another thought.

> Sorry for texting out of the blue. No worries if you already had plans…

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Beauchamp. And just what exactly did that ellipses mean to imply? That she’d be disappointed if he did have plans? That there was room to reschedule? That she was getting her hopes up for a date that wasn’t a date — that she didn’t even mean to ask for — but was now altogether dismayed and excited and no small amount of mortified at the very notion?

“Your man will be here,” Joe had said. Her man.

“Far bloody from it,” she murmured, thumping the back of her head against the pillar, feebly trying to stop him from coming to mind.

James Fraser. Jamie. That absurd red-headed idiot who threw pebbles into her third-floor window. He was infuriating and persistent, that one. And Claire was loathe to admit that their last impromptu study break had resulted in a well-rested mind and a shining grade on her midterm.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she almost dropped it. Not a great sign for a future surgeon, she thought derisively as she opened the message.

> Dinna fash lass, I cancelled those. I’ll be at yer place in 5

Her lips curved upwards involuntarily at the thought of him cancelling his plans, but she snapped out of it and scowled. Christ, what was happening to her? Why was this happening to her? She was a far cry from the dream-headed teenagers of Lifetime original movies. And yet, she’d woken up snuggled bodily against her pillows more times this week than she’d care to admit.

He was like a disease really, metastasizing and invading her every thought and action.

And not a bad-looking one, at that, said the more defiant recesses of her mind. She could still feel the phantom echo of his thumb against her cheek, making them flush of their own free will.

If she was being honest, she liked him. She liked him a lot. He was charming, almost to a fault, and was always so earnest in his actions that she found herself forgiving his small idiocies as if he were a child. He was also most gracious after she tackled him that first day in the library, which was as sweet as it was maddening. She’d said as much to him before, but whenever he was around, the constant buzzing in her brain seemed to shut down. His smile calmed even her stormiest thoughts.

What she hated was this: these moments apart where her mind was free to dream up all manner of anxiety, like the minutes before an exam but so much worse. The white noise came back tenfold, as if to make up for lost time. It was like the tension between two magnets just before they clicked together.

She also hated how much she wanted to click together.

She hated that the most.

---

He knew it was a mistake exactly 0.3 seconds after he clicked send. With no John to backseat text, Jamie had typed whatever came to mind before that same mind had the chance to walk him straight back to his room, let him cocoon under his blankets and slowly die of shame.

Why in God’s holy name would he tell her he cancelled his plans? So much for not looking too eager. He wanted to slow down his pace to think it over, but goddammit, he’d said he’d be there in five minutes. He was grateful for the autopilot his body seemed to operate on, willing his legs to move before the rest of him – stumbling around thoughts and scenarios and topics of conversation – could follow.

She’d texted him. She did. There was no more lingering doubt that she was only humouring his antics, and she’d told him so the other night. She needed him.

Or well, something akin to that. He couldn’t exactly remember the phrasing at the moment. His heart was singing too loudly to hear.

An icy jolt ran through him then and would’ve stopped him cold in his step had he not been oath-bound to make it to her door in the next 2 minutes and 34 seconds.

Jesus, he’d been so utterly spellbound by her saying his name that he’d touched her face without thinking. It seemed so natural to do so, to rub his thumb across the arches of blue pen painted on her cheek. And – curse that autopilot after all – he’d reached out and made contact before the rest of him even realized.

And her face. Dhia, that creeping blush and small quiver in her lips. His body ached to still them with his own, but thank heaven for small mercies, he’d managed to regain a semblance of control, managed to instead get lost in the lilt of her voice and the pools of whisky in her eyes.

Eyes that were now searching around for, presumably, him as she leaned against the front pillar of her residence. His legs finally slowed to a stop.

“Sassenach…”

Attention caught, she turned to him immediately with a wide doe-eyed expression that melted into a small smile of recognition. She walked towards him, closing the gap between them.

She was pulled towards him like the magnets she adamantly refused to liken them to.

Click went her heels as they hit the pavement and stopped right in front of him.

“We’re back to that name, are we?”

“Aye.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned down at her. “If ye like.”

“I did sort of miss it,” she said, feeling suddenly quite dull. How long had it been since she’d been on a date, let alone a first date? C’mon Beauchamp, you can do better than this.

She opened her mouth to say something – anything – but, he’d already drawn in a breath to speak so she let him.

“How was yer exam, by the way? Did ye do alright?”

“Oh well, y’know…” She brushed her hair back, letting her feigned humility last for less than a whole second before the honest joy poured out. “I got a 93!”

“That’s fantastic, lass!” he said happily, and he meant it. The strikingly warm hand now pressed into her arm told her so. “I’m verra proud of ye!”

Her smile shrunk, not wanting him to know how pleased that made her, nor how his hand on her arm was warming her whole body.

“And ye’re welcome too.” That startled her, pulling her head down from its rapid ascent into the clouds.

“For what, exactly?” Smile gone, eyes narrowing.

His hand left her as he crossed his arms, grin widening.

“For takin’ ye on a walk the other night, to clear yer heid.” He nodded, setting off Claire’s more familiar – and oddly comforting – urge to smack him.

“As I recall, I was the one taking you out for a walk that night.” She held her scrutinizing glare for half a second more before breaking into laughter. “No dogs on the premises, remember?”

He laughed too, shoulders relaxing as he let his arms fall loose from his chest.

“Ah well,” he said. “I suppose we’d best get off the premises then, aye?”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I dinna ken, Sassenach. You were the one who called me here, weren’t ye?”

No, actually I wasn’t, but God bless Joe Abernathy, the nosy little bugger.

“Fair point.” One slim finger found her chin as she weighed their options, surveying the campus grounds behind him. “Food?”

When their eyes met again, he was staring intently at her, the same way he’d done that night before he reached up to touch her cheek. She could have sworn he’d meant to kiss her then and – for fuck’s flying sake – she was terrified of the fact that she would have let him.

“W-what?”

The look was gone as quickly as it came. He shook his head, ruddy curls swishing about.

“Nothin’, just my favourite word, that.”

“You and every other student on campus.” She snorted, turning from him to start in the direction of a small diner she’d taken a liking to. “I know where we can still find a table though.” With a look over her shoulder, she allowed herself to smile at him as widely and honestly as she’d like.

“Are you coming?”

“Aye,” he said softly, and a chill ran down her spine. “Aye, I’m right behind ye.”

Read Chapter 3

#murtagh made me do it #murtaghmademedoit #outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #wr writing #perfect distractions au #technically its sunday rn if you set for daylight savings ahead of time #i was just really excited to post ok?

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