#nothing behind Darryl's eyes
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Dndads tumblr I feel the need to unleash this monstrosity on you, you're welcome:
#made Stick Glenn for a friend#it spiraled#I was crying laughing#every time I get over one another looks at me#why is this the best Henry I've ever drawn#ron 😭#nothing behind Darryl's eyes#dungeons and daddies#dndads#glenn close dungeons and daddies#henry oak#ron stampler#dungeons and daddies fanart#dndads fanart#fanart#help me omg#darryl wilson#shitpost#surprise i'm a shitposter in disguise
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"FIGHTING WORDS" Carl Grimes, she/her
Set in the Alexzandria Era after Carl lost his eye. His very protective girlfriend overheard the local kids talking about Carl behind his back. and needless to say, no one had anything to say about Carl ever again. [ANGST, to SLIGHT FLUFF]
Carl has been in a coma for weeks. His girlfriend had never left his side after the incident. Her depression had gotten so bad it took Daryal, Glenn and Rick to hold her down to force her to eat and drink water.
Her mood had deteriorated drastically, she was more angry, she was less active, she never smiled anymore and she didn't know who to blame for what happened to Carl. She knew it wasn't right to Blame others for the accident. but she had nearly lost the one thing keeping her going in this Hell that used to be a world, she had every right to be upset.
she sat in the armchair next to the bed Carl lay in peacefully, she slipped between sleep and alert wake. She didn't even let the nurse come into the room to check on Carl unless absolutely necessary, and when anyone else was in beside her and Carl, her hand stayed on her and Carl's Gun that slept in her holster.
her eyes shot open and her hand bolted to her gun as the door to their room swung open. In walked the one and only Daryl Dixon, and for once he was without his crossbow. he walked in with his usual gruff demeanor and closed the door behind him.
The girl took her hand off her guns and crossed her arms as she returned to watching the sleeping Carl.
Darryl came over and sat in the seat opposite of her. he crossed his arms before speaking.
"You need to go outside. He ain't wakin' up any sooner with you watchin' him like a hawk. He ain't goin' nowhere, and you don't have to go that far. Jus' needs to get outta this room."
You glared at him through your hooded eyes. but inevitably he was right. carl had been like this for weeks and every second you watched him it felt like your body was slipping farther into a black hole.
Daryal then spoke again, "You need to be in your best health for when he wakes up. you need ta' take care of em', not him take care of you. how you gon take care of him like this?"
he had you stumped with his words. he was right, how were you going to take care of Carl and you couldn't even take care of yourself?
you let out a sigh and began to get up, he followed suit but then stopped you by holding out his hand. you huffed while rolling your eyes and took your guns out of your holster. he didn't know about the knife in your boot thank goodness, but knowing him he probably did.
you passed him up with a glare while leaving the house and strolling out into the street you hadn't seen in weeks. There wasn't much to do here. Besides the few teens that roamed, but you mainly kept to yourself and Carl.
you never really talked much these days, nothing worth talking about. Many thought you were mute at first meeting you, but that narrative quickly went out the window whenever you got too upset. Memory's of all the times someone had pissed you off to bad and you cussing up a storm regardless the person.
you walked the streets passing by people and not saying a word. You came up to a small bench and decided to take a seat and just take in the fresh air, you had to admit, it did feel nice on your skin to feel the breeze and not that stuffy old room that felt more like a prison rather a room.
a few minutes had passed and you had begun to get up being done with your reminiscence before you spotted a group of teens headed your way.
You despised these inhabitants of Alexandria greatly, and their children were even more unbearable. You started past them before one of them decided to take it upon himself to cat-called you, despite you clearly being madly in love with Carl, these specific group just love to torment you.
"Hey, Miss Mute! How about I show you what a real man looks like in bed while your one eyed freak of a boyfriend's out!" He and his friends cackled like hyenas while shoving him around, as if what he said was the greatest thing in the world.
you slowly spun around and sneered, you decided to brush off his remark of the incident, knowing nothing good would come out of beating his ass, "Your tiny shrimp dick doesn't even come close to a real man. My one eyed freak of a boyfriend at that." he stopped laughing and his gooneys ooed like kindergarteners.
He tilted his head to the side as he stepped closer then he should have. "The fuck did you just say to me, bitch?" You stepped closer to him and you could feel his stank breath up your nose, it made you want to vomit on the spot. But you continued to talk your shit.
"I said, you have a big ass head, and a small as Dick. Your breath also smells like walker ass. need I say more?" Your head tilted to the side and your eyebrows furrowed.
his face contorted into one of anger, he scoffed then chuckled dryly as if he thought a funny thought in his fucked up head.
He raised his hand and tried to touch your hair, but you moved your face and roughly grabbed his arm putting it behind his back so he couldn't move. you then put pressure on his back as he cried out loudly in pain.
"you ever touch me again, and I will fucking kill you!"you yelled out aggressively. You were not in the mood to be fucked with.
He couldn't even respond with words as he just continued to cry like a baby for anyone that would dare to help him.
His friends all backed up out of fear of being next. They started yelling at you to let him go but you didn't listen and continued to nearly break his arm.
He yelled louder as your pressure increased. Your face hot with anger that he even dared to touch you after making a nasty comment about your boyfriend.
You then heard yells of a few adults calling you name but you still didn't let up.
Then out of no where two pairs of strong arms grabbed your arms and you thrashed in their hold.
The boy you had previously had in a hold jumped up to his feet and held his arm in pain, "you crazy bitch! That bullet should have Killed Your boyfriend!"
He yelled out and suddenly your thrashing stopped, you looked up at him with a dark look and his face went cold. He knew he had fucked up.
You harshly ripped your arms away from your holders and ran up to the boy with a flying fist, it knocked him on the ground and you kept on punching. His face become black and blue and Messy with blood, your knuckles ached but you didn't care.
It took a total of four adults to pry you away from the nearly unconscious boy, but by then you had already lost all cool.
You stopped struggling in their hold and spit on the boy you had just beat to a pulp.
Your breathing was irratic and it became very clear to everyone that you were extremely unstable. You caught your breath and spoke down darkly to the boy who cried out in pain. He spotted you stepping one step closer and backed up out of fear.
"If you, or anyone else is this god dam town, ever speak bad about Carl ever again. Your gonna wish your sorry asses became walkers after i'm through with you! Do you FUCKING HEAR ME??"
The boy nodded vigorously as more and more people came over to stare at you with fear.
You yanked your arms away from the men and everyone backed up and cleared you a path as you turned around to go back to you and Carl's room.
You made it up there and slammed the door and began pacing back and forth. You were so Pumped with adrenaline that you didn't even notice the empty bed where Carl laid before.
The door swung open and in came a seething Daryl, followed by a worried Glenn and a Very Concerned Maggie.
Daryl came over to stand infront of you and you mean mugged him. He gave you a harsh push and you feel backwards into a chair.
Maggie and Glenn both Yelled but their cries went Unheard by the both of you. You death gripped the arm rests of the chair you sat in as you glared up at the yelling Man that had became your father figure over the course of this apocalypse.
"I told your ass to take a walk! Not Pumble some kids face in! Now That kids gonna need Stitches that we don't have Just because you couldn't control your Anger over some Dam words! Now I heard what them kids said to you, what they said about Carl. But what if That dam wanna be president decided to Kick you out because you beat up some kid they thought was innocent?! You don't think before you Hit! And we can't have that type of stupidity in this world! Get your fuckin' act together! Or you're gonna be in some deep fuckin' shit."
He left off with those words and left behind a shaking and teary eyed child on the Chair. Your leg bounced rapidly as tears fell from your eyes but no sound came out.
You didn't know any other way to let out what you were feeling besides violence. It was your only option given that Carl wasn't in a good shape to calm you down like he usually would.
You were unknowingly left alone in the room and that left you with your thoughts. You stood up and began throwing, kicking and breaking everything and anything in the room that could be thrown kicked or broken.
You continued until another voice entered the room, another voice you hadn't heard in a long time.
"Y/n..?"
You spun around and anyone could tell just by looking at you that you were not okay.
Your eye bags as eye bags, your hair was widely unkept, your knuckles bled from throwing things, hitting things and beating the shit out of kids and unsuspecting walkers. You shook with every breath you let out, and your voice was raw from yelling into your pillow with Sobs you couldn't control.
Carl Slowly made his way into the room as he carefully walked to you like you were Fine China. He stopped right in front of you and then suddenly encased your form.
You stood there for a few seconds, asking yourself in your loud head 'was this real?'
But as you felt the heat off his skin, the soft melancholy beat of his heart. And his soft But ragged breaths. You knew your boyfriend was real.
You slowly encased his body and you couldn't stop the tears from falling down your face. You began sobbing, wetting his shirt like it was raining from the clouds.
Your loud sobs shook the house that you both occupied but You didn't care. Your throat became dryer and dryer and you sobs grew raspy as you clutched Carl Closer to your body.
You were a broken record falling apart without the other half that was the love of you life. Carl rubbed your back and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
You continued to sob until you couldn't anymore. Your legs grew tired as your body grew heavy, you hadn't slept in days. And it was evident on your face.
His big hands cupped your face and used the pads of his thumb to wipe away any stray tears from your eyes, your hurt and abused soul seethed through your eyes and he could see what you had been going through with just a glance at your tear stained face.
He kissed your tears away with his chapped lips and your eyes fluttered closed. Your breathing leveled out after crying for hours in his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and led you over to the bed.
He laid down in the spot he had been for weeks and you laid on top of him. You looked into eachothers eyes until you couldn't keep them open anymore.
The two of you fell asleep to the sounds of each others breathing.
You knew you would have to deal with the consequences of what you had done, but you could deal with them later.
Now? The two puzzles peices had finally clicked back together where they belonged, and as long as you had Carl. You didn't care what was next. As long as whatever it was, was beside him.
HIIII, this chapter is kinda sad, sadder then I usually write at least, and this had more reader then Carl so I'm sorry about that but I really hope you guys enjoyed this, and if you wanna see more of Mr grimes please request and I'll get back to you :3
#kira speaks#the walking dead#the walking dead x reader#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes x you#carl grimes x fem!reader#pls love this bcs it took me so long#twd#tw depressing stuff#twd carl#twd daryl#tw blood#tw depressing thoughts#tw bad thoughts
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not my type 4 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader
summary: y/n has to go work in the OBX a yearafter she last saw Rafe and things take their turns...
warnings: fluff, smut (p in v (unprotected))
word count: 2.5k
author's note: I'm not a fan of what I did here and I wouldn't even feel bad if y'all hated me for it bc it's just shit in my eyes, but I also don't have the capacity to change it or write it anew but I also didn't wanna leave it unfinished. that's all.
masterlist part 3
You don't want to move to the OBX, but it's what your father expects of you and it's a promotion. You'll be in charge of the division, hiring new brokers, taking care of business. It’s a huge step forward from all the number pushing you had to do the last year since Florida was opened. But, just like you predicted, it had been worth it, and now you're supposed to actually bring in good numbers from the island strip. And on top of that, you are sure that you're over him. A whole year is a long time after all.
“And the beach is just gorgeous,” you tell your friend Parker, who helped you move. You're both standing in the new office building, looking out of a window, not noticing Rafe's approaching behind you. “That wholly depends on what side of the island you're on,” Rafe comments, and you turn around to look at him. His polo shirt hugs his muscles perfectly and the shorts sit a bit low. It's in stark contrast to the very formal rosé colored suit you're wearing. But the worst part of it is that your heart starts fluttering just a little when his blue eyes rake over you. “We'll find out soon enough,” you hit him back and take Parker's hand, intertwining your fingers, and to your own luck he just goes with it. You had been friends for too long for him to question your moves, and he also knew way too much about what had happened between Rafe and you. “Good,” Rafe smiles and turns to walk into his office. “Okay, y/n/n, I get it, but you're also crushing my hand,” Parker laughs lightly, and you let go of him. “I'm gonna be so okay. Yes. I'll just be okay. Right?” you tell yourself and walk into your office to set it up.
When you go out for lunch, Rafe simply joins you uninvited. You focus on Parker, on pretending that you're with him, not just because you have to keep your mind from slipping to Rafe. But mostly because you want to know if he's going to be jealous. And from the way his jaw clenches when you kiss Parker's cheek, it seems to be working.
However, it's only working for a week, because your friend has to go back home and the moment he's gone you jump headfirst into work. If you won't let your mind rest, it can't think of Rafe. That's your strategy. It's a flawed one though, because after three weeks of excessive paperwork and hiring new staff, you find your desk empty, nothing left to do. At least not enough to keep you occupied for more than a few hours each day.
“There's an issue with the Campbell property,” Rafe says while walking into your office, not having knocked. “I thought you might want to look at it before I make a decision.” He hands you the papers, and you look over it, but you can't find any mistakes on it. “And what's your verdict?” you ask, hoping that it'll help you figure out what might be wrong, because even after reading the notes a third time, you still can't find the problem. “You work too much,” he shrugs and you drop the paper. “What?” “Nothing. It's a numbers issue, see,” Rafe points at the yard size. “They say it's 0.7 acres, but it's actually just below 0.6 acres.” “How do you know that?” “Because I've been to that house. Do you want to risk us getting sued?” he cocks his brow up and you sigh. “I'll send Darryl to measure it out. Anything else?” “Your boyfriend isn't around as much as I thought he'd be.” Rafe lets his fingers run over the glass of your desk, and you bite the inside of your cheek to not smile. The small glimpse of jealousy makes your heart skip a beat. It's stupid, really, because you don't know each other, you shouldn't feel like that for a guy you had slept with twice over a year ago. And yet, you still did. “Parker has his work, and I have mine,” you smile politely. “I see. Well, the Campbell thing,” Rafe notes before walking out again, and your heart is still pounding like crazy after the small interaction.
You keep working, trying to keep your distance and he does the same. Only talking when it's really necessary to keep the office out of the reds. You don't notice that he keeps eyeing you when you're not looking, that he makes sure that the kitchen is always stocked with your favorite snack. And you don't know that he notices how the small packets only ever go missing when you have a rough day or had an unplanned call from your father. And that you dress more so provocatively when you have a showing than when it's just an office day. Or how you strip off your heels when you sit at your desk for more than five minutes. He picks up on all of your little antics, and he doesn't even want to, he's over it just as much as you, but he can't help it either.
And for the brokers open two months after your start in the OBX he makes sure that the caterer has a non-seafood option alongside the tiny lobster rolls and crab cakes. Because he knows you don't eat it, and he wants to get on your good side again, although he's aware that food won't be the way to do it.
“Old fashioned?” Rafe holds the glass out for you, and you take it with a hushed “thank you.” “That's what you had the-” “I remember,” you look up at him, his hair is cut back to a buzz cut, and you don't know if you like it as much. It does accentuate his features though, which isn't a bad thing at all. The sharp nose and high cheekbones, the crooked smile he always greets you with- No, you can't let yourself think of him again. It was hard enough as is, to survive living and working so close to him. “You look good,” Rafe nods at you, and you don't know what to reply. The short black dress is showing off more than you intended to, but your best friend Claire convinced you to put it on anyway when you called her earlier that day. “Uhm… thanks,” you mumble and let your eyes run over him, half buttoned shirt and suit pants. He hadn't dressed up at all and the fact that he didn't need to, and your heart was still racing, was speaking volumes. “You clean up nice too,” you tell him and look away again.
You try mingling, networking a little and gossiping a little less. But when you overhear a broker from a different brokerage talk about Rafe you simply can't stop yourself. The words coming out of her mouth won't add up to the Rafe you know and try to hate. She talks about dark escapades and less intriguing things but follows them up with a harsh comment on his person. Maybe she is jealous, you choose to believe that rather than what she keeps talking about. There's nothing less believable than all the atrocious things she mentions and yet when you look at yourself in the mirror of the restroom later that night, you think it doesn't matter. Everyone has a past after all. “He's not like that anymore, right?” you ask yourself quietly after freshening up your lipstick.
You see Rafe standing at the side, not wanting to talk to anyone, and you start to realize why. You start to understand why he never ate lunch in the kitchen with you or the team. “Networking is part of the job,” you remind him while placing yourself next to him. “Not with this folk,” he replies dryly. “You shouldn't care what they say.” You look up at him and meet his gaze. “I don't. Do you?” “I don't think it's possible to do this job if you're not a stone-cold killer at heart.” He flinches at your wording but he nods. “Are you?” “Have to.” “You don't though,” he seems almost sorry, but he turns away again, nipping on his drink. “Didn't get a choice much,” you mumble absentmindedly.
“Contradictory,” Rafe huffs a laugh. “What?” “You. It's contradictory. You saying you didn't get a choice after telling me you made the choice freely,” he looks at you again, eyes scanning your face. “Didn’t think you'd remember,” you mutter and turn around, wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but his hand shoots out to grasp your wrist. “Don't go, please.” “Why?” you turn around to look at him sternly. “I'm sorry, about all of it,” he apologizes, and let's go again. “I'm over it,” you lie. “You're really not,” he whispers and steps closer. “And it's my fault, all of it. I'm sorry, sugar.”
“Are the stories true? The shit they talk about you behind your back?” you ask and he nods. “Okay,” you say and he furrows his brows. “You don't care?” “Not really. I mean, that was then and now is now. I know the crazy shit people do when they're high,” you shrug, and he looks a bit confused. “And the daddy issues on top of that. I mean, I get it. We've both got our fair share of daddy issues, right?” “Right,” Rafe drags out the word, he truly didn't expect you to not care about it at all. If anything, he thought you might run again, and the fact that you don't is confusing him. “Do you wanna get out of here and get hammered?” you whisper, and a grin spreads on your face when he takes your hand and pulls you away.
That's how you find yourself bent over your own desk, mind hazy and a moaning mess as he fucks you. “Too much,” you cry but Rafe just laughs. “I know you can take it, baby.” And you know he's right, but you love to be told over and over again. “You're so good to me. So tight, sugar.” “Gonna cum,” you moan, and he stops, pulls out and makes you turn around. “Sit up, pretty girl, and look at me.” You follow the order, sitting up and moving to the very edge of the table before he pulls your legs over his shoulders and enters you again.
His hand presses down on your stomach and you groan. It's all too much, and he's making it worse, moving to press on your clit with his thumb before drawing harsh circles and your eyes roll back in response. “Cum for me, baby,” he rasps into a kiss, biting down on your bottom lip when your orgasm rips through you, squeezing him so hard that he can't hold it in anymore and shoots his hot cum into your pulsating core. “Fuck, you're perfect. So hot. Missed you so much,” Rafe pants, still buried deep inside of you and not ready to actually let go. “Forgot how big it was,” you whisper and feel him twitching inside you. It’s just a silly little note, but it's all he needed to get hard again and fuck you again, not caring about the mess you were making.
“Bet he's not fucking you like that,” Rafe pants, and you don't know what he's talking about, but you let it slide, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you. “Mine. All mine,” he rambled, lips attached to your neck, nipping at the skin and leaving a plethora of open-mouthed kisses on it. “Yours, daddy. All yours,” you moan and hold onto him tighter, pressing yourself against him to try to force him into you deeper. “Soak me, pretty,” he breathes against your lips, one hand holding your jaw, the other between your legs, rubbing your clit. And his blue eyes are barely visible as he stares into yours. “Make me,” you hush but scream when he pinches your clit before rubbing it again. “Don't be a brat, sugar. Come on. Soak daddy's dick,” he grins, drops of sweat running down his toned body, and you swear you'd lick him clean all over if he let you. And when his tongue once again entangles with yours, your eyes roll back and your legs tremble. Screaming at the high he managed to give you and far past it as he fucks you through it and empties his load into you for the second time.
And the next few weeks you spend the same, pretending like nothing happened while letting him fuck you every single night. You don't want to talk about all the things that you should clearly talk about. Like the fact that he still believes that you have a boyfriend up in New York, or that he keeps staying longer until he falls asleep next to you, and you don't have the heart to kick him out. But you groan when you wake up and see him try to get ready as quietly as he can.
“What are you doing?” “Didn't mean to wake you, sugar,” Rafe apologizes and leans over you, placing a kiss on your lips. “Don't go,” you whisper as he hovers over you. “I don't want you to go.” “Are you sure?” he asks and you nod again. It takes him less than ten seconds to strip himself of his pants and jump back into bed.
Your head is nuzzled into his neck while you hold onto him, somewhat scared that'll it's just a dream. “I think you should break up with your boyfriend,” Rafe mumbles. “Boyfriend?” you pull away with furrowed brows. “Yeah. Not really fair to him. Not really fair to us,” he doesn't look at you as he says it. “Us?” It's not that the term itself is confusing to you, but more so the fact that it's coming from him. That he's saying it so casually. “Yeah. If you didn't have that Parker guy, I could actually take you out, show you off,” he whispers and finally lowers his eyes to see your awestruck face. “What?”
“You want to date me?” “I would yes. Is that hard to believe?” “I'm me, and you're… you,” you answer, but he just kisses you, hoping to smother all your doubts with it.
“Rafe?” you whisper and he nods. “Parker isn't my boyfriend, I just wanted to make you jealous,” you admit with a whisper and to your surprise he starts laughing. “What's so funny?” “I didn't even think of that,” he laughs and starts plastering you in kisses. “So smart. So perfect. So pretty,” he says in between kisses. “Do you really think so?” you ask, and he nods repeatedly, a smile playing on his lips. “You're so beautiful, y/n.” “Okay,” you blush and try to hide under the sheets, but he pulls them down to kiss you again and again, and you don't think he'd ever want to stop, and you wouldn't tell him to either.
please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @julczimozart
#rafe cameron#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#obx fanfiction#~fanfiction#smut#my writing#~not my type
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Darry x Fem!reader. They go out on a nice date but Y/n is wearing smth a lil revealing...maybe a little spice in there, but I understand if you don't want to write that 😅
i love this idea! thank you for the request!!
i have limited experience/comfort with writing spicier things, but i gave it a go. i'd say it's more a fluffy/suggestive vibe than spicy. i added in some little details about red lipstick, lol. i hope you like it <3
staring respectfully
even a perfect gentleman can be tempted
DarryxFem!reader. wc: 1523. flirty and suggestive date night between established partners. no real content warnings.
“Aaannndd, perfect!” you said to yourself as you finished lining your top lip with red lipstick.
You had just enough time to adjust your dress and give the mirror a final look before Darry was supposed to pick you up. He said he’d be there at 7:30 sharp. And you knew it would be exactly 7:30 sharp because he’s never late, especially to pick you up for a date night.
“Keys, wallet, lipstick” you run through the list of items to throw in your purse before the doorbell interrupts you. 7:29pm, of course, he’s running early because he’s excited.
Regular date nights are not so regular with you and Darry, mostly because he works all the time and money…well it’s not exactly unlimited. But when you two do get the chance to go out, it’s really special. Or as special as it can be on the east side of Tulsa. You guys have a favorite spot, a little diner, that’s more than the Tastee Freez but not exactly the ritz. It didn’t matter though because Darry could make you feel special anywhere.
“Coming!” you call down the hall, hoping he’ll hear you as you slip on a pair of black heels and start walking.
You paused before opening the door, just for a moment. You wanted to collect yourself and look a little more poised before Darry saw you. What he didn’t yet know is that you’d gone out of your way to doll up for this date night. It’d been a few weeks since you were able to go out and you’d both been flat broke around his birthday, so you wanted to make it special now that there was the time and money for a night out. New dress, new shoes, new lipstick.
Red. Wine red lipstick. Nothing too flashy, but it would definitely catch his eye.
“Hey, Y/N—oh shit!” Darry exclaimed as you opened the door, “pardon my french, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
Slam dunk, hole in one, mission accomplished. In the first two seconds, you knew he loved it.
“Is everything alright?” you asked him in a giggly tone. He took a few steps back to let you fully out of the door and turn around to lock it behind you.
“Oh, most definitely,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you twisted the key in the lock.
“Well you looked like you’d seen a ghost there for a second," you teased him.
“I just—you look amazing, it took me by surprise…not that you don’t always look amazing, it’s just—is that a new dress?” he stammered.
“Tripping over your words tonight, Curtis?” you teased again as you turned around in his arms, “yes, it’s a new dress. I wanted tonight to be special since, you know, it’s been awhile since we’ve been out.”
“Well…I…yeah, let’s go out then,” he replied, gesturing towards the truck without taking his eyes off you.
All the way to the car you could feel him watching you. He was normally so put together and sure-spoken. You’d definitely taken Darryl Curtis Jr. by surprise tonight and he was not going to waste a single moment’s opportunity to take it all in.
Ever the perfect gentleman, he opened the truck’s passenger door and helped you climb in. You were sure-footed in heels, but he always helped you up into the truck no matter what you’re wearing. Once you were seated, you could immediately tell that he’d put in his own kind of effort for the evening. The truck was freshly cleaned, tools taken out of the bed, seats even looked vacuumed. Soda and Steve must have done him a solid at the DX before he came over.
That’s not to say his appearance was underwhelming in the slightest. As he started the engine, you admired the curve of his biceps peeking out from the sleeves of a freshly-ironed muscle tee. He was wearing his good jeans, the dark denim that fit him like a glove and had no holes. The best part, though: that one front curl of his greased dark hair fell effortlessly tousled along the middle of his forehead. It always looked, to you at least, like a special flair that someone put on a signature. Anyone could sign the name Darryl Curtis Jr., but could anyone else do that with such perfection? Probably not.
“Is that new lipstick too?” Darry asked you as he pulled up to a stoplight. He took his eyes off the road and fully took in your face, appreciating it the way he always does but with a glimmer in eye that made you feel like his whole world and then some.
“Yeah,” you replied, “I heard you tell the guys last week that you like red lipstick and I didn’t have any so I picked some up.”
He replied with a deep sigh and a playful smile as the truck lurched forward at the green light. Darry’s always a careful driver, but you could tell it was hard for him to focus on the rules of the road at the moment.
“So you’re eavesdropping on the gang’s locker room talk, huh?” Darry teased.
“It’s hardly eavesdropping when you’re all scream-talking in the living room and I’m six feet away in the kitchen,” you pointed out, “besides, aren’t you glad I overheard you say that?”
“Very glad,” he said as he put the truck in park down the street from the diner. He raised a gentle hand to your cheek, pulling you in for a soft kiss before getting out.
You got seated in the diner at your favorite booth, the one you and Darry always shared. Your red lips almost matched the color of the leather seats, like a picture in a magazine staged for perfection. Normally, he’s the type of guy who likes to sit next to his date on the same side of the booth, sling an around your shoulder, that kind of thing. But tonight he sat across from you, probably because the view was better.
“You two coming from some big party?” the waitress who always served you guys asked as she approached the table.
“You’re dressed to the nines tonight!” she added, turning to you.
“Oh no, ma’am,” Darry replied for you, “just taking my favorite girl out tonight.”
“Special occasion then?” the waitress asked in a playful tone.
“It’s always a special occasion with Y/N.” Darry said, making you blush a little.
He said it with a loving smile, never taking his eyes off you as he spoke to the waitress. If you’d have been on a date with any other man, any less respectful and upstanding man, the look he was giving you right now would have already escalated into a speedy trip to a private location. But not Darry. He wanted you, that was obvious, but he still had his morals.
“You’re doing a lot of talking with your eyes tonight,” you said to Darry after you’d both placed your orders and the waitress was safely out of earshot.
He cleared his throat and learned forward, extending his long arms across the table with hands outstretched and reaching for your own, “I could say the same about you. That dress is practically screaming at me.”
“Screaming what at you?” you giggled.
“I think you know,” he replied with a wink.
“Well,” you cocked your head to the side with a playful grin, “I think you should clarify because I was always taught that staring is rude.”
“Y/N,” he said slowly in a low tone, “I’m staring respectfully.”
“Oh what a perfect gentleman!” you teased.
“Even a perfect gentleman can be tempted,” he replied, “especially with a dress like that.”
The flirtation continued to escalate as the waitress came back with your food. Nothing special, but you were surprised that Darry ordered a beer. He doesn’t normally do that unless he’s nervous or…well, really wants to make sure he has a good time.
Once the dishes were cleared and the check paid, you two headed out of the dinner and into the fading Tulsa evening. Even the east side of the city could be charming at night, with the neon signs and other couples walking around, probably out for date night too. The Circle Cinema sign caught your eye as you walked hand in hand down the street.
“Maybe we could catch a movie,” you suggested, pointing at the marquee. The truck was in eyesight now, and his gaze darted from your face to the outline of its fender and back to you.
“Definitely not, darlin’” Darry replied, “we’re going home.”
“Why’s that?” you asked, “it’s still early, the night’s still young!”
“We’re going home,” he repeated, stopping and placing his two strong, calloused hands on your exposed shoulders, “because I’m tired of just staring respectfully at this dress.”
You giggled and grabbed his hand as you started walking again, “Respectfully, Curtis, I think I know what you mean.”
“Then get in this truck,” he said as he opened the door for you, “so we can go somewhere and get a little less respectful.”
#the outsiders#darry curtis#darrel curtis#the outsiders darry#darry x reader#darry curtis imagine#darry curtis x reader#darry is a gentleman#i feel like that's basically canon#i wrote some words#the outsiders fanfiction#drgstrcowboi
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Helmets & Hosers
Ship: Tim LaFlour x Corey Wheedon
Word Count: 553
Summary: Something short and sweet with my beloved hockey boy. :0]
Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @rexscanonwife
Corey awoke to the sound of his dormitory landline ringing incessantly. Whining softly, he stretched himself out of bed and shuffled into the living room, his blanket wrapped around him like a cloak.
“Wheedon speaking,” he yawned.
“Corey, baby, I am so sorry to wake you up, but I totally forgot my helmet in my dorm and I can’t get ahold of Darryl.” His boyfriend, Tim, spoke in a rush on the other end.
Corey rubbed their eyes, gaze fuzzy from not wearing their glasses. He checked the time. “Shit, I forgot you even had a game tonight… I’ll grab it and be over before the doors open to the public, I promise.”
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
“Love you.” Corey hung up and stumbled back to his room, throwing his blanket back onto his bed and shoving his glasses on his face. The second he had come back from his last class, he had collapsed into bed, sleeping for nearly three hours. He hoped the excitement of Tim’s game would exhaust him enough to let him sleep easily afterwards. He took off the clothes he had worn for the day and began digging through his closet and the piles on his floor for something clean. Tim had left him with a baggy sweatshirt emblazoned with the logo of the band Ramones. It didn’t smell too bad, so they threw it over a tank top and a pair of ripped jeans before haphazardly tying their combat boots and sprinting downstairs to Tim and Darryl’s dorm room.
Having not been able to convince Stratford University itself nor their father to lend them a copy of Tim’s key, Corey had gotten very good at picking the lock on his door with nothing more than a stray bobby pin. Once inside, they grabbed Tim’s helmet and finally bolted for the school’s ice rink. A small crowd was already beginning to form at the entrance by the time they got there- Two minutes til the doors open. He bolted up to the ticket booth, holding up the helmet.
“Tim LaFlour forgot this, and you know the game can’t start without the proper protection.”
The woman behind the glass gave him a sceptical look. Please believe me, lady, I don’t want my boyfriend getting brain damage... as much as we can avoid it, anyway. Finally, she sighed and got up to unlock the doors.
“Don’t fool around.”
“Thank you, miss.” Without time to spare, Corey used the last of his energy to sprint to the locker room. “Tim!”
The familiar blond fluff bounced through the pack of curiously turned heads. Disregarding the audience, Tim pecked Corey’s cheek. “You’re the best.”
“And you need to keep better track of your things, mister,” He teased, placing the helmet on his head and patting it in a rough but affectionate way. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Tim cheesed. “I know, I know...” The sound of a buzzer made Corey jump. Tim squeezed his shoulders. “You should go wait outside the concessions stand before everybody else gets there. You’re gonna have premium seats!”
“Good idea. Break a leg, Tim!” Corey clapped his arm before smoothly exiting the locker room. A stitch was beginning to form in his side from all the running around, but it was worth it to see his boy so happy.
#self shipping#self shipping community#safeshipping#gay self ship#trans self ship#self insert#self insert x canon#self x canon#self insert oc#oc x canon#circus scripts#🌼Smells Like LaFlours🩶#🕸️❄️.s/i
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Scars That I'm Hiding, Chapter 12
Carlos realizes he's stepped on the cartel's toes.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ .
Carlos opened his eyes to a murky darkness. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he had opened them at all. Perhaps he had fallen asleep, and it was nighttime already – was that possible? This might just be a dream, one of those in which it’s always dark and the lights don’t work. A few seconds later, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and he could make out the walls dimly. The sparse light that came from somewhere behind him might have been a milky skylight. He tried to turn his head, and a sharp pain shot through his forehead. Reflexively, he wanted to raise his hand, but he couldn't.
A few very rapid heartbeats passed, during which Carlos tried to sort out his thoughts. There was a brief flash of panic when he realized that he was sitting on a chair, hands tied to his back. The thought of Trudie and Darryl crept into his mind like a venomous snake, and he felt cold sweat at the nape of his neck. Pull yourself together. He shook his head, as if to banish the memories, and pain shot through his head again. Drops of blood sprinkled a dotted pattern on his legs, and somehow that was what brought him to his senses. He breathed in and out deeply; the only sound in this darkness, with nothing but walls from which it could rebound.
How could he have been so stupid? Had he completely lost his mind? Carlos had been a police officer for so many years, almost made it to detective, and had made a decent start with the Texas Rangers. But in his opinion, he deserved to be fired for this stupidity. Which was, of course, an absurd thought, because none of his superiors even had the slightest idea where he was.
In any case, it was neither the bar nor its backyard; he had been locked up in a small room, perhaps the size of a square. A cellar, Carlos suspected, which in the pale light he thought he recognized the rough plaster on the walls. Or perhaps an unused storage room. There were no windows except for the supposed skylight behind him. Apart from the fact that he had behaved like an idiot and fallen straight into the trap, it was now clear to Carlos that he had stirred up a hornet's nest – and it had stung back. Ever since the video, there had been a nagging fear at the back of his mind that Gabriel's claims would turn out to be a mirage. That the big corruption scandal he had hinted at had never really existed and he’d made a huge mistake; and in the end, his death would have been meaningless.
[continue on AO3]
#writing#fanfiction#my fics#Tarlos#Carlos/TK#911 Lone Star#911 Lone Star fanfiction#911 crossover#carlos reyes#tk strand#alternate universe#lone star fic
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TGAMM Season 2 One-Word Drabbles
I have a lot of feelings and a random word generator so have some unedited prompt drabbles.
(Mostly season 2 centric, but some could be more ambiguous)
Disturbance
Life goes on, nobody any the wiser, but Scratch can’t shake the feeling that something looming has irreversibly, ominously shifted.
(In the basement, away from prying eyes and wandering hands, an empty soda bottle gathers dust.)
Like
Scratch could forgive the hormones (eventually, as long as he was getting fed), but the minute he heard Molly admit she ‘like-liked’ the kid next door, they were all going to find out really quickly if ghosts could throw up.
Background
It’s sometimes easier seeing life from behind the scenes, never the main character but a helpful supporting role instead. Someone who can see the bigger picture without the singular, blinding spotlight.
(As Libby watches Molly storm back into the gym, Scratch nowhere to be found, she worries for the actors on this stage.)
Shape
Scratch’s malleable build brought endless humour to the family. (No matter what he turned into, he was always exactly the right size to fit in Molly’s arms.)
Victory
He’d done it. He’d gotten Molly to see his perspective, to ditch the ghost hunter forever and remain by his side, her closest friend and hers alone.
(The expressions she adopted when she thought he wasn’t looking didn’t make this feel like much of a win.)
Interface
Andrea truly was a child of technology. She controlled the world through screens, electricity and circuitry as a part of her as blood and bone. She’d seen the power her face commanded, and now, numbers and words blooming into functions and commands under her deft touch, the same power flooded through her fingertips.
Brainstorm
Darryl was no slouch at schemes. The ideas cooking in his head were brilliant.
(The ones he dreamed up with June were genius.)
Week
Monday. Move in.
Tuesday. Barbecue.
Wednesday. A haunted book shop.
Thursday. An invitation.
Friday. A dance.
Saturday. The reappearance of a lonely, aching void in the center of Ollie’s stomach. It never seems to go away.
Prey
Despite their shaky reputation with non-believers, the Chens are among the most highly respected ghost hunters in such circles as people who respect ghost hunters. It is their livelihood, their passion, their purpose. Without it, the Chens are nothing.
Ollie watches one of June’s more lethal traps snap shut and he winces.
(He’s never winced before.)
Right
Andrea’s parents send her to bed without supper. It’s an empty threat, after they’ve retreated to their offices for the evening she has free run of the house, but it stings that they made the effort.
(The right thing is not always the easy thing.)
Authority
The robe hangs off Scratch’s form like a death shroud, and the taste of responsibility leaves his mouth sour. With it comes the weight in his core, like his heart has somehow returned but twenty pounds heavier.
(He is heard. He is respected. He is obeyed. He is terrified.)
Climb
He is a creature of the night, of shadows and deceit, blinded and rattled by the brightness of the sun. He shrinks back into familiarity, but she is impossible to resist.
(Step by uneven, blundering step, Molly leads him back into the light.)
Descent
Then he shows up, and Molly turns farther from him than she ever had before.
(Her radiance flares like a sunspot and Scratch wants to be happy for her even as the darkness drags him back under.)
Cycle
The pressure has lessened, almost to nothing, but Molly still gets an excited thrill the morning she wakes up with blood on her sheets.
(It takes her less than a week before she’s ready to go back to being a child.)
Paradox
She’s amazing. She’s insane. She’s being manipulated. He is. She can’t know. She must. She’s innocent. She betrayed him. Ollie lays awake, staring at his bedroom ceiling.
(Molly McGee puts everything he’s ever known into question.)
Season
“I didn’t think ghosts could get hay fever.”
“Shut up and pass me the antihistamines.”
“Will these even work on you?”
“I’m willing to try anything at this point, and if you don’t gimme now I swear I will wipe snot all over you!”
Mine
Nothing is as vivid after the first memory fades, and Scratch wakes up some nights with a cloud of brown curls bobbing in a summer breeze, the phantom condensation of a cold drink cooling the ectoplasm of his palm, a familiar abyss of the same sensation he’d felt more potently more recently: the day the McGee’s left his house.
(He guards these sense memories jealously. Nothing could take them away from him again.)
#the ghost and molly mcgee#tgamm#tgamm season 2#tgamm spoilers#writing#drabbles#one word prompts#i might add more later#or i might make another observations post#or maybe ill just lay in the fetal position until the s2 finale#the possibilities are endless
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O God, Forgive Me For My Sins
Priest Bad and demon Skeppy
Skeppy fell from heaven bc his human was bad and he did nothing to save them
“Our father, who art in heaven,” Bad starts out, touching his forehead, chest, left then right shoulder, before bringing his hands together in a tight clasp, “hallowed be thy name.”
He continues reciting the prayer, memory propelling him through it as his mind runs through the list of chores he had to complete before the end of the day. It never changed, not really. Sweep the pews, make sure the prayer books are in their proper places, check on the bread and wine-
“Are you looking for the bread?”
“Ah, sister Puffy.”
The woman smiles and hands over the aforementioned bread.
Something slinks out the shadows, blood red pinpricks shining in the candlelight. Bad holds his breath, heart about to beat out of his chest.
“Come out. It’s okay.”
The pupils constrict, and a light hissing reaches Bad’s ears. Still, the priest swallows and refuses to back down.
“I won’t hurt you.”
The hissing ceases, and a voice speaks out instead.
“Liar.”
Bad frowns. “I’m not lying. I swear upon God.”
The voice huffs repeatedly, and Bad realizes they’re laughing.
“Your God doesn’t care for you. He doesn’t care about any of us.”
“Zakres, by order of God, you will appear in heavenly court and be judged for your crimes. Now, come with-”
Silver barely grazes the angel’s outstretched hand and a knife lodges itself in the wall, seemingly missing its mark. But Skeppy knows better, knows the one who threw it better. The young demon looks to his left with relief.
Never has Skeppy seen that expression on Bad’s face. Annoyance and irritation at best, but this? This is utter rage, pure and unfiltered anger swirls in dark eyes behind glaring lenses, directed at the holy being who rolls their eyes.
“Get away from him.”
The angel gives him a once-over.
“Darryl, correct?”
Bad scowls. “That is my name.”
“You will appear before heavenly court as well.” Fear shoots through Skeppy. Wait, what?
“You do realize that housing a demon is quite damning of you? Pardon my language.” All of the angel’s eyes lift into half-crescents of mirth. “A proclaimed man of God helping one of Satan’s children. How amusing.”
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; basics --
full name ! neve joselyn fisk nickname ! n , ms fisk age&dob ! forty - seven ( 07/05/1975 ) occupation ! owner at possums daycare place of birth ! morgan city , louisana current residence ! glen ellen , california fc ! linda cardellini eye color ! brown hair color ! brunette height ! 5 ft 3 in sexuality ! bisexual/romantic gender&pronouns ! cisfemale ( she/her ) traits ! compassionate , extrovert , motherly , creative , friendly . fickle , unforthcoming , protective , opinionated . titles&tropes ! free spirit , the daydreamer . aesthetics ! a build up of incense ashes , baking cookies after midnight , a collections of records next to a thrifted record player , mismatched dining room chairs , a vase filled with corks , warm inviting eyes that always keeps a space on the couch open for anyone the rant . family&pets ! gail&darryl fisk (parents both deceased) , edgar fisk (older brother alive) , harley fisk (younger sister deceased) , ___ (child alive) , baxter a male chocolate lab , gizmo a male tortoise shell cat , plenty of fish that she keeps at possum she lets the children name them . secret ! 👀 to be exposed ! 👀
; biography --
PAST ! ; ( tw ! death mention car accident ) the middle child of the fisk family there's nothing notable of neve's childhood other than moving all around louisana when she was a teen . she had a problem connecting and making friends simply because she wasn't sure when she was going to move again . she took to painting and acting as a second mother to her younger sister . when neve was freshly eighteen and her sister only fifteen her sister was in a car accident that claimed her life , neve was a wreck after the fact and packed up what she had and left her life in louisana behind to move to arizona . she met someone and fell pregnant when she was twenty-one and they played house for five years but never married before he left , after that it was a string of relationships that ended in nothing . when her child graduated she got the itch to pick up and go . glen ellen was a random move that she made and she's made herself a home here . PRESENT ! ; she enjoys her life in glen ellen and adores what she does . neve loves working with children and loves being able to be creative and doing what she wants to do . she doesn't like talking all that much about her past and hardly anyone knows she even has an offspring , it's how she likes it .
; connections --
coming soon !
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New Country 27e jaargang #T1244 (S803) (C44) van 2 September 2024 (wk 36) uitzending op Smelne fm & Crossroads Country Radio
Album van de week: George Strait – Cowboys & Dreamers
Classic album: Tim McGraw – Not a moment Too Soon 1994
Hits of the Year : 2003
Maandfavoriet : Ella Langley & Riley Green – You Look Like You Love Me
Maandartiest : Patty Loveless
Patty Loveless – You Can Feel Bad *maandartiest
Randy Travis – Whisper My Name #1 30 jaar.
Clay Walker - Dreaming With My Eyes Open
Sabrina Carpenter – Slim Pickins o
Charles Wesley Godwin – Sundown .
Luke Combs ft Blake Shelton – Nothing Left .
Colby Acuff - Starving.
Zach Brown Band – Two Blue Chairs And You .
Drew Baldridge – She’s Somebody’s Daughter #3
George Strait - MIA Down In MIA. Album vd week
George Strait - Three drinks Behind . *Album vd week
Ricky Skaggs – Country Boy Entertainer 1985
Blake Shelton – The Baby
The Mavericks – The Air That I Breath
Merle Haggard – Yesterday’s Wine w/George Jones
Ella Langley & Riley Green – You Look Like You Love Me . . favoriet
Brian Callihan - Good Lord. sofi
Tim McGraw – Indian Outlaw classic album 1994
Tim McGraw – Don’t Take The Girl classic album
The SteelDrivers – If My Eyes Were Blind .
Miranda Lambert – Over You (3 in 1)
Miranda Lambert / Keith Urban – We Were Us
Miranda Lambert – The House That Build Me
George Strait - The Little Things - cowboys & dreamers. Album vd week
Sturgill Simpson – Sitting Here without You
Post Malone feat Luke Combs – Guy For That #1 album.
Cody Johnson – Dear Rodeo .
Tim McGraw - The Cowboy In Me (yellowstone edition )
Colter wall – Cowpoke
Luke Grimes – Wait for The Rain To Die down
Toby Keith - Big Ol' Truck
Patty Loveless – How Can I help You Say Goodbye maandartiest
Nitty Gritty Dirt Band – Catfish John juweeltje
Lainey Wilson - Whirlwind vw
George Strait - To the Moon (live)
Jake Owen - The Journey of Your Life Album vd week
Willie Nelson - I Still Can't Believe You're Gone
Eric De Vries - Hit the Ground Running Dutch corner
Change of Key - Home away from Homesick blues nl
Toby Keith w/Willie Nelson – Beer Gor My horses #5 2003
Mark Wills – 19 Somethin’ #4
Darryl worley – Have You Forgotten #3
Kenny Chesney - There Goes My Life # 2003
Alan Jackson - & Jimmy Buffett – It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere #1 2003
Eindtune
Post Malone & Luke Combs
#playlist new country#maandagavond smelne's country avond#smelnefm#newcountry#maandagavond#countrymusic#playlist#cdvdweek#crossroads country radio#maandfavoriet
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Chapter II
“Clay? What do you see?” Brendan asked, crossing his four arms.
Clay lifted their head, their coat shining in the orange glow of the sun. Everything seemingly felt rather, not normal. It felt like danger was coming, but what kind of danger, they weren’t sure of. They haven’t exactly told the entire truth when it came to the very lucid vision, only a small part of it that could somewhat describe it. Even now, their whole body still felt sore from all the impact and running.
They let out a sigh and decided to follow the lichen and twisted vines for a little bit longer, just to see where they actually led. It shouldn’t hurt, should it? A sudden rustle came from the bushes where a crystal diamond form emerged from behind them, shimmering in the setting sun. Looking at him, nothing seemed to be wrong, for now at least.
Brendan immediately made it known that he knew something Zak didn’t. “Hey, feeling alright?”
The hybrid with the ore disease lifted a nonexistent brow, “Yes, I’m alright.” He shook his body as if like a dog shaking off water. “Why are you asking?”
“Just cuz,” the inchling instinctively, and on accident, pointed at the earth dragon with his thumb.
Zak stared for a minute before he turned his body to face Clay, or rather, lifted his upper body in a leap to do so. “Did you get a prophecy about me?!” He nearly yelled out, his eyes wide with awaiting excitement as he nearly ran towards them.
Should I lie? Clay asked themselves, unsure if they even felt comfortable sharing it. They were known for receiving omens, signs, and prophecies, but something like this felt too risky to mention. Like as if something bad would happen if they did tell him, or even make it worse.
They looked at the diamond creature in front of them. Zak had a unique shape to him, his back was smooth but with harsh edges, just like a diamond would, almost like armor to allow better movement. His claws weren’t retractable, they were sticking out and glistening in the sundown just like the rest of his body, the white coat looking lightly amber. His eyes were small, but looked too organic, with black scleras like Clay’s, but the irises were a shade of neon blue. There was no hint of red anywhere.
“I mean, yeah but, I’m not sure what it actually means-” “Oo! What if it means that I will be a hero?” he dragged out the word hero as if it was definitely what the dream meant.
Catching onto what Clay was doing, Charlie decided to lie further; “Again, Clay isn’t sure what it can actually mean, all we know is that-”
“It was you in red.” Clay ended up spilling out half the truth. Their gut ended up turning upside down, making them feel sick, but not enough to throw up.
The look of confusion on his face spread faster than a wave in a sea. “In red?”
Something told Clay that they knew of this omen. Something, familiar. Like the sea that felt both welcoming yet dangerous. Maybe… No, there are many more of that kind, it couldn’t have been someone like Nikita, she was far too sweet to do or get tangled up in something like that.
“But I’m blue,” Zak continued, “why would I be in red?”
“I’m… Not sure, to say as much as I can…” Clay admitted.
Something like the dark green depths with faint screeching sounded from nearby. That was only something that Clay’s ears picked up, at least. Turning to the source of the noise, they could only hear it coming closer, like it was dragging itself toward them. Then, something like a bong rang through the depths, along with frequent drums that were faint, but their vibrations still could be sensed by Clay’s paw pads and eardrums. It sounded, so odd yet so familiar. But why?
And why was it coming from Darryl’s land?
Clay could barely hear someone, maybe Charlie or Zak call out to them, but they ignored it and started padding to the source of the noise once more, aware that the three were following them.
When they reached the large wooden bridge that smelled sweet of all kinds of flora that grew around its fence. Even some vines… Grew down the fence and nearly into the stream, both emerald green and crimson that looked brown in the sundown.
Letting out a sigh, the earth dragon with wavy stripes and ungroomed chest fur that smelled of old dried herbs walked forward and through the bridge, realizing that whatever the ambiance was, it was gone.
Looking at the cottage, nothing seemed wrong. The vines stopped just at the other end of the bridge, sort of reaching the middle. Maybe it was just starting, a calm before the storm.
“Darryl isn’t home,” Zak quickly mentioned. Well, that was convenient, Clay could explore the cottage without raising that much of a suspicion and Darryl asking too many questions. For now at least.
“Can I look around in there?”
Zak hesitated for a minute before answering with an agreeing; “Yes, of course,”
Clay nodded, opened the door with their magic, and walked through the doorway. They closed the door. And nearly gasped.
Through Clay’s eyes, the whole cottage was covered in red flowers and vines and lichen on the inside, making it hard to walk around without tripping. Looking around, it was hard to see what was the cottage, as the red overtook it. Blood lilies and spider lilies grew out of the vines, having a sick stench to them. Like something was rotting. Knowing what both flowers symbolized, they didn’t question what that could possibly be.
The ambiance rang in their ears, making it feel like it warned them of an upcoming danger.
Without realizing it, Clay started to breathe heavily, feeling a slight panic overtake them. Everything felt grim and dead. The fire had been burning for a while, the smoke covering the ceiling and now the rooms, making it hard to see. Crystals the color of blood sprouted from the ground, itching to impale themselves into them like before. Clay remembered the sharp teeth that tried to consume them, but they managed to break free by sending a wave of magic down the beast’s throat before being thrown down a hill of jagged crystals.
The dream kept on replaying in their head, haunting every thought that tried to overtake it.
Beware the evil that hides within… The voice whispered. It sounded like a young boy.
“Clay?” Zak’s words suddenly rang through the whole room, startling the young earth dragon out of the vision, forcing them to look down at what used to be a large dog hybrid, now overtaken by the shimmering diamonds. “What did you see?” was the immediate question.
Clay couldn’t find words. It all felt too real. Again.
The cottage was now a light brown color, made out of oak, birch, and some touches of spruce. The furniture was either out of wood as well or they were made out of stuffing and fabrics to give them a more cozy feel. Even the white windows were clean.
It was like it was never there.
Yet the crimson flame kept on burning somewhere, letting out clouds of smoke.
A wave washed over them, blood draining from the waters and staining their fur. Red.
Just red.
But why would something feel so familiar yet threatening?
“I think… I think that I saw a warning.”
---
The whole castle was surrounded by a large garden that was blocked off from the rest of the places scattered around. And around the whole kingdom of L’manburg, were walls of stone keeping the citizens safe from any attacks.
Clay and Schlatt were walking around the castle, talking about their day and about the alliances L’manburg had, even some little personal stuff, like which important figure had been horribly injured or what kind of great horrible things had happened in the kingdom or to Clay’s group. Clay kept the topic of the dream a secret for now, not wanting to draw too much attention.
Their laughter sounded from the royal garden. “Try and catch me if you can!” laughed the red and blond hybrid, having a set of horns that made him look like the classical depiction of the devil or a demon, just longer and more curved back. If Clay had to be honest, his horns looked rather bad for headbutting. Not to be mean, just that they knew enough from their own training to judge what was a hybrid’s weak point. Especially when the horns looked too thin and far apart.
The goat-spider hybrid rammed himself against Tommy, managing to actually headbutt him in the process, which the younger hybrid took as a challenge and forcing his forehead hard against his, causing the other hybrid to step back just to regain his balance.
Clay huffed through their nose and smiled, looking rather proud.
“Got something to say, Clay?” the rather rough voice sounded from beside them, a little farther ahead a few steps. The large wolf spider hybrid with horns was looking over his shoulder at them, dark-colored eyes watching rather intensely. It wasn’t a threat, just a try at sounding more friendly than he usually would sound.
Clay shook their head, “No, just thinking,” They kept looking over the stone railing.
“It looked like you were thinking of something to say,” Schlatt crossed his arms, looking more accusative now.
Knowing to be patient with him, Clay just simply shrugged and looked up somewhere as if to roll their eyes and began to walk forward, swaying their tail lightly to get some of the energy out. “Maybe you’re just reading into me too much, can’t read me like that when there’s nothing to look for,”
Schlatt blinked before following the earth dragon, “Rather cryptic there, aren’t we?”
“Maybe, maybe not,”
“Or maybe you’re just an idiot,”
“Wow, really? Didn’t know,” Clay said sarcastically but still grinned a little bit.
To their surprise, the older hybrid actually faintly smiled. Well, that was an achievement.
“Oh, hello,” a familiar voice greeted the two hybrids within the castle, its two tails wrapped around his leg.
Clay put on a quick smile, trying to avoid eye contact so as to not scare the enderman hybrid with lightly curved horns. Clay has never really seen an enderian that was a half-albino, let alone a full-on albino. But with also heterochromia and slightly furry? Now that was rare to see. But now, they have seen him a bunch of times, so it wasn’t that rare for them at least. “Hey there, how are you?”
Ranboo returned the smile, “I’m alright, just…” it looked over at the two wrestling hybrids who were having the time of their life from the looks of it. “Just watching,” Ranboo admitted, clutching the book closer to his chest.
“You better treat my son right,” Schlatt nearly growled, giving it a little overprotective glare at the tall hybrid.
From what Clay knew, some chemistry was developing between the enderman and Schlatt’s son. Toby was always the energetic kind, always being in someone’s business even if it didn’t evolve him, while Ranboo was more quiet and shy, respecting privacy and being a respected figure in L’manburg. Two opposites, yet both seemed interested in one another.
“I’m sure it does, spider momma,” Clay teased and earned a glare as well.
Appreciating Clay’s attempt at lighting up the mood, Ranboo smiled.
The three looked up when a scream echoed from the garden, only to see Toby chasing Tommy with a small beehive, which, strangely, fit too well with his personality. But then again, that was a problem.
“Tobias! Stop!” his father yelled, causing a burst of laughter and wheezing from the earth dragon and a very worried and nearly horrified expression from Ranboo, whose shoulders rose up and stiffened. This was the hybrid that Ranboo seemingly fell in love with.
That was one way to distract from the dream. Even if for a little while.
Clay let out a soft sigh after their laughter turned into giggles, their smile vanishing into a frown for another reason now, remembering a promise they once broke, yet couldn’t tell anyone other than Phil about. Thinking of that promise made them also think about…
They shook their head. They would find a spell soon for sure. They had to.
While Toby was getting scolded, the enderman hybrid with a split-colored face turned to them, a little spark of curiosity in its eyes. “Say…” he paused, thinking over its question carefully. “I was wondering, you mentioned once how your horns help you hear sounds no one else can hear,” “Uh huh?”
“What kind of sounds do you exactly mean?”
“Heh, well, it’s funny really. Imagine ambiance, it’s, something like that. It’s magic, that’s what it is.”
Ranboo blinked, “Ambiance?” “The character and atmosphere of a place. That goes for my visions and prophecies as well.” Clay explained, looking forward into nothing. “Whatever happens in either, the ambiance connects to it.”
Ranboo paused once more, thinking over what the earth dragon told him. “Can you maybe, explain it more?”
Clay’s heart dropped but they managed to keep their cool. “It’s basically like,” Their first thoughts were of the terrible omen. Maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to actually tell it. Looking around for anyone that could possibly read minds before letting out a sigh and readying the quick spell, “Do you wanna hear for yourself?”
“I, wouldn’t mind it, if it helps you explain it,” Ranboo nodded, straightening its back as if to put on a brave demeanor. “If it’s nothing scary,”
“It kinda is, sorry if you run off,” the green earth dragon with wild dirty neck fur made a lighthearted joke and put the spell to work.
The gong returned as the deep dark depths hummed its lullaby. Something was slithering around too close around them, bringing with it the cold-crushing pressure along the beating of the drums. Something was making it hard to breathe.
Clay spared a small glance with their eye at the enderman widow spider hybrid, noticing how tense and faintly shaky he was. And when the gong hit again, Ranboo’s ears twitched along with its leg as he sensed the vibrations beneath.
“Should I stop it?”
“Yes please…” Ranboo murmured. When the spell stopped, he lifted his head, eyes unfocused as if it was still processing it. “That was… How do you-”
“I just do. It takes time to get used to, but it’s normal.”
Ranboo thought for a minute before shrugging. But then it just had to ask; “What kind of prophecy or omen did you get that it sounds like a nightmare?”
A nightmare. Clay wished it was just a nightmare.
“It was… Sort of one, I suppose. But I’m not sure if I should tell you in case there’s a change of panic.”
“Wouldn’t it be smart to actually tell someone?”
“I guess but-” “But?” another voice added, clearly British. “You’re pretty much just putting others in danger by doing that.”
The earth dragon turned around sheepishly, face cringing and ears turned back from being caught in the middle of an excuse. “Phil…”
“Do not call me by name like that,” the gold-haired avian with black raven wings growled, “you should know when to speak to about such matters,”
“No need to speak all royal, please,” Clay lightly pleaded, managing to lift up their head at the shorter hybrid. “And I know-”
“You know, yet you don’t tell anyone about it,” Phil added, wings twitching from the cold air. “You should tell us, even if your little anxiety is telling you not to.”
Clay gulped, feeling their head starting to hurt from the said anxiety. It really was hard to not think about starting a panic, especially when they had the reputation of a sorcerer. Knowing things that others didn’t, it put too much pressure on them. Now that Clay was the center of attention, it became even harder to speak. Tommy and Toby were seemingly away, still somewhere in the garden from what they could sense.
Letting out a sigh, Clay sat down and thought over their words. “I am not sure what exactly will happen but, from the looks of everything I’ve seen, danger is coming.” Looking up, everyone looked to be listening carefully from how they stayed silent and only watched them. Even Schlatt gave them his attention with yet again crossed arms.
“I ran into the Cursed Cave, where I had the urge to fall asleep, so I did. The dream was… It felt like I just woke up, just somewhere else… I walked around, seeing all deep shades of red, with the, I guess roof, pulsating with bright red veins showing with each heartbeat. I then got welcomed by someone, a cat hybrid with red eyes, telling me that I am someone they have been searching for, and led me into a cave where I could barely see anything. Then, a bunch of others jumped me, I managed to get away but they kept on chasing me until I got into the crystal realm, I suppose I can call it that.”
“The crystal realm?” Phil asked, sounding calmer than before, acting like he was asking a normal question.
“It was just a cave now that I think back on it, it was pretty much one of those that had many crystals and gems, but this one was just…” The thought of what the next part could have meant made their heart sink, along with sweat dripping down their forehead. “It was diamonds, not crystals… I was just aimlessly running around, unsure where to exactly go when I saw…”
Phil blinked, taking the pause as a challenge. “Saw what exactly?” he said more firmly.
“I saw Zak walking behind one of the protruding diamonds, where I lost sight of him… I couldn’t find him anywhere after that, so I just gave up and sat down, thinking that something might happen if I just wait. And something did happen… He turned into this, monster made of jagged diamonds, that were shining red, no, made of red gems, he was made of some red gems that I can’t think the name of right now but… He clearly was under some kind of influence of whatever the cat hybrid said that wanted me-” “You didn't mention that part,”
“I’m under a lot of stress right now, okay?!” Clay snapped before sighing, feeling now ashamed. “Sorry, just, listen, okay?” They felt relieved when the raven hybrid simply nodded.
“I think I remember the thing being some sort of, egg shape, with petals and vines around it. So, I tried to run away but, Zak caught me and dangled me over his mouth as if he was gonna eat me. So I, blasted the remaining magic I had down his throat out of pure panic, causing him to scream in pain and throwing me down the stone hill where, I rammed into almost every jagged gem, somehow breaking through them. At the bottom, I ran again, just ran forward and hopped I would reach somewhere away from that place and him…” They sighed, looking down at the tilled floor. “I did ran off, and ended up waking up, with the last image being Zak getting fucking strangled with those cursed vines. Brendan and Charlie found me soon after.”
Tears were threatening to leave their eyes as they looked up at Phil, who now had a more sympathetic look on his face. “Happy now?”
Phil nodded faintly and looked at Ranboo and Schlatt, who just gave one nod. “Will tell William about it, and see what he has to say on it,�� he said, “if his faulty powers will show him something you missed.”
Sighing again, this time more forcefully, Clay’s look softened. “Thank you…”
Out of the corner of their eye, they could see the two teens hiding behind a pillar, both with wide eyes and lightly worried expressions on their faces.
The day continued as normal, with Clay now wandering the royal garden by themselves, hoping to get some kind of peace after that whole ordeal. The garden was stocked with flowers of all kinds, some exotic while some more basic. Yes, some were already wilting, but the rest, being able to withstand the cold, were still blooming. It was something to not only draw the eye in but to also offer comfort to those who enjoyed nature, with Clay being one of those people.
But they weren’t the type of people who liked being interrupted while seeking some peace.
“So,” Tommy said behind them in a loud voice. “How exactly does one become a pathetic prophet like you?” Well, that was a good start, not.
Rolling their eyes, Clay let out a huff and continued walking down the gravel path, trying to ignore the unintentionally annoying hybrid who was way too confidently honest.
“Really, how do you see the future and past, when you cannot even tell the others about it?” Tommy continued, trotting behind them. “Shouldn’t a prophet say everything bluntly?”
Letting out a sigh, Clay looked down at the gravel beneath their paws, “Not every prophet has confidence, Tommy,”
“But they should, like, how else can danger be avoided?” It sounded almost sarcastic, maybe even meant to be rude and mention the stereotype of prophets, Clay wasn’t too sure about that. But they weren’t there to judge that. Clay just needed some time alone, but Tommy wasn’t about to give up that easily.
“I already told them, Tommy.”
“You could have told them way before!”
Sucking in a lung full through the nose, Clay stopped in their tracks and decided, fuck it, show Tommy that just because they have anxiety, they can tell the future to him. “Do you then wanna hear what will happen in, two days? Along with other information?”
Tommy paused for a minute, unsure of what to say at first, as if he did not expect them to suddenly say that. “Well?” he growled as if to pretend that he was waiting for them to speak further in the first place.
“Well, I see a future romance with two other hybrids, those two would soon introduce someone else into their relationship, cherishing him truly to bits. But, about those two days,” Clay paused, wondering if they should continue. But they already said it, so why stop there? They indeed let Tommy know they will say it.
“I can see you trying to fly above an ocean, where you keep on bouncing off the jagged rocks when all of a sudden-” they turned around, eyes glowing blinding green. “-a strong wave comes in and sweeps you underneath the ocean along with one of the jagged rocks, pinning you between it and the sand.” They kept their voice calm, but still bit the inside of their cheek. Seeing the vision in front of them, feeling the salt and weighing ocean enter their lungs and nostrils. It was getting to them again. The visions.
Tommy was staring at them in disbelief, face twisted in slight worry and confusion. His round grayish blue eyes were filled with those of a deep ocean, drowning and gulping in the salty liquid. It was horrifying for them, and Tommy wasn’t aware of that.
“If there will be anyone to save you, you’ll be lucky, unless, you are alone.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Tommy yelled, arching his back and taking a defensive stance like a cat. “You’re just trying to scare me, you weirdo!”
Clay fought the urge to smirk, finding the behavior amusing now. Just for now that is. Still so young and naive, just like they remembered when they last saw him. “I didn’t say you definitely won’t be saved, despite your stupidity, Tommy,”
“Oh now you’re calling me stupid, aren’t you?”
“I’m talking about your risk-taking,”
“You’re the one that’s stupid you imbecile!” Tommy hissed, feathery-and-bat-like wings twitching nervously along with his swaying tail.
Suddenly, Toby sounded from behind the young red and blond hybrid, which caught Tommy’s attention a little bit. “Tommy!”
“I think you should go,” Clay said calmly.
“Yeah, while you should-” before Tommy could finish, Clay turned into a peacock of greenish-blue flames and flew off into the cloudy gentle gray sky, vanishing among the clouds. Leaving Tommy to wonder if they were joking, or were actually serious about the prediction.
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family photo
read it on AO3!
scratch comes to terms with the mcgees truly seeing him as part of their family.
---
From inside his offering house, Scratch can hear the faint chattering from the floors below, and he peeks his head out the window just in time to see Molly flinging open the attic's trapdoor. She's wearing something different from her usual get-up; which, in his opinion, is a good thing, really, who told her that skirt and that jacket matched?
She's bundled up in a pink and purple patterned sweater and light blue denim shorts, a wide grin stretching across her face, showing her dimples; he narrows his eyes in suspicion.
Nothing good ever comes from that smile.
(Nothing good, he says; except for nearly everything that's come from the moment they've been cursed together.)
"Eugh, what're you gonna drag me into this time?" He says, scowling. Molly only grins brighter.
"Pfft, 'drag you into'... C'mon downstairs real quick Scratch!" She sing-songs, eyes squinting as her smile turns into a teasing one. "Mom put out some snacks..."
"Well why didn't you say so!" Scratch yells, affronted, and he zips out of his offering house and through the floor head-first; Molly's laugh echoes from the walls in the room, following him as he floats into the foyer.
Mom and Dad- Sharon and Pete are standing off a bit to the side in the living room, and Darryl is lounging on the couch; as promised, low and behold in the center of the coffee table is a bowl of pretzels and chips. Stretching himself out to shove the bowl in his mouth, his eyes catch a tall tripod and camera beside Molly's parents.
Spitting out the bowl, he picks at a tooth as he hovers over it, making a small questioning hum in the back of his throat.
"Wha's this for?" He asks, flicking a crumb off his finger, and a small hint of something akin to fear pops up in the back of his head. "You guys tryin' to take pictures to sell the house or something?"
"Don't say that, Scratch," Molly says behind him, aghast as she enters the room, and he turns his head around to stare. "This is our forever home! We're doin' a family photo, duh!"
Oh- well, that's... a thing.
He feels a little hurt, and he's not sure why, really- he floats off a bit to the side, looking away; if he had a heart still, it'd be squeezing painfully. Because of hypothetical heartburn, definitely, not from whatever feeling was churning in his gut.
"Oh, well I mean, I'll just-" He coughs a little, moving upwards to float through the ceiling, but Molly grabs him and yanks him down. "Wha- hey!"
"Scraaatch, it's a family photo!" Molly says, and Scratch's saddening feeling turns a little bitter at that.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I'll be going now," He grumbles, but Molly just pulls him into a tight hug- really, what was with this girl and hugs?- and he starts struggling against it with a scowl. He sees her look over to her Mom, gesturing his head towards him.
"It's a family photo," Sharon speaks up from across the room, "so you've gotta be in it too, Scratch."
Scratch halts in his wriggling, his expression morphing into one of surprise. Molly's smile is ever-present still as she turns back to him, and he can see the others all looking at him with similar expressions; though Darryl's always seems to contain a bout of mischief in it.
It's then that he notices a white sheet hanging from the back of the couch, holes cut into where a pair of eyes would look through; it's a classic, boring ghost costume.
He looks back at Molly, and only then does her smile turn to something more sheepish than bright.
"Since you don't tend to show up really well in photos," Molly explains, and he looks back at the costume, eyeing Darryl as he grabs it and holds it up for him to see. "We figured you'd want something like that so the camera catches you? If you want."
"...Yeah," Scratch says, voice wavering a bit, squirming out of Molly's arms to pick up the costume. "Yeah, that's- that's fine."
With the sheet over his head, he feels a little bit more pulled to the ground; a bit more solid and real to the world.
It's a bit degrading to be wearing such a mocking costume, but the fact they'd thought of it at all- well.
"Now come on over here," Pete chuckles, waving an arm in front of the fireplace. "We spent a good thirty minutes finding the perfect picture place."
"I'm just glad there's a west-facing window in the house," Sharon adds with a wry grin. "Those always give the best lighting."
The others move to stand at the fireplace, looking expectedly at Scratch, who stands there for a moment, simply looking at them and their expressions.
They've already left room for him to squeeze into; Molly and Darryl's faces are filled with glee and excitement, and Sharon and Pete- they're looking at him with such mirth and merriment, like they know-
(Huddled a bit above Molly and Darryl, between Sharon and Pete, Scratch feels loved.)
"Aww, Darryl, you blinked!" Molly huffs, rushing to and back from the camera with admirable speed- maybe she should look into joining track at some point?- and Scratch's sheepish smile is hid beneath his costume.
"What?! No I didn't!" Darryl argues back, affronted. Pete stutters a bit as he speaks up against their bickering to no avail, and Scratch turns his eyes, meeting Sharon's own.
She simply raises an eyebrow with an amused smile, gaze flickering to Molly and Darryl and back. She says without words; Look at them- aren't they wonderful?
Scratch huffs a small laugh, gaze flickering down to the floor, and his shoulders raise up to his ears as he swallows his pride.
"Thanks, Mom," He says, quietly and mumbled, that only Sharon can hear as she's stood beside him; her blinding smile is worth the embarrassment.
Pete places Molly and Darryl back ahead of Scratch and steps back beside him; the click and flash of a camera has never filled him with such soft happiness.
---
#the ghost and molly mcgee#tgamm#tgamm fanart#tgamm fanfic#tgamm fic#tgamm molly#molly mcgee#tgamm scratch#tgamm sharon#tgamm pete#tgamm darryl#my art#my writing#ohmaerieme
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up until that point, her entire life had been one big wanted poster. dead or alive: oh, what price wouldn't she pay for even a shadow of evidence. where did that woman go? she used to be there once, she's sure. it's become so easy to simply reflect whatever someone hoped to see there. have you seen her? she could swear at some point she had a mind of her own. maybe even a life. days would merge together so easily lately; into the diner she went, putting her apron on, pouring coffee to strangers. nodding along as they complain about the weather, about the prices of milk on the groceries, about this politician and then the other. taking off her apron, putting cheap lipstick on before leaving, hurrying up to escape the rain, getting home and pouring coffee to the stranger she shares a life with. and as she sat at the table, mind wandering off as he told her endless tales about marks and bills at the garage, she thought of her face on the wanted poster, brunette curls and cheap lipstick. she's handing off flyers to the customers at the diner: have you seen me? she doubts they see her even now.
funnily enough, it's gotten harder and harder for her to picture the wanted sign ever since she left. she's sure there's dozens of them back in their hometown; they've made quite a reputation for themselves ever since darryl and johnny stayed behind, and sometimes grace catches herself wondering if they were two of the ones handing out posters or offering cash for their heads. she fights off the part that hopes for the latter; it's terribly satisfying to think of them raging at the walls because of their women, wishing that they could grab them by the necks but ultimately unable to, and grace still has a problem allowing herself satisfaction.
if she could pick one thing, it'd be one of those posters. a small souvenir of sorts. she thinks she saw that girl the other day. looked in the mirror and would you believe it; someone seemed to stare right back.
grace: the hell are you even thinking , thee ! ( she's spitting fire as she speaks over the car stereo's folk strings, hands firmly maneuvering the wheel as the woman settles on her side. ) the hell did i tell you 'bout playing bonnie and clyde ? d'you not remember how the tale went ?!
though it's only so easy to stay mad at that woman, specially when five seconds ago they had nothing, and now, they had a bag full of cash. she could probably pay for both their heads with that much, but she could only think of the scarf she saw on that road end store the night before, and how she knew it'd look beautiful around theresa's neck.
grace: what in the world did you even tell those people ? ( she laughs, the thought warming up her chest. it's hard to recover from it; she's laughing more and more, eyes leaving the road for a second here and there to look at the woman. her hand, too, travels to replace the bag's straps between theresa's fingers. lord be damned, she's never letting go. ) i could swear we were out of bad ideas already , darlin' .
theresa looks over the window, purposefully avoiding grace’s face while she counts and recounts the few small bills they have, the clear sight of tregret in her eyes. for a moment she wishes to be a tiny insect, flying far away from all that mess, but, in the end, the role of the culprit of the situation seems only most fitting to her. mere three days before, she was lying down on the kitchen floor, desperately wishing for something that could save or distract her from the damned housewife life, and now she feels embarrassed for ever thinking that could happen. like things had ever been easy for her. theresa just wanted to get away for a while, forget her life, and ended up living more in those days that she had lived her whole life.
now she thinks that maybe her husband was right, that her life should be condensed in the form of a small shopping list with the house essentials. bread. beans. beer. she wonders if darryl would ever take her back. she doesn’t want it to happen.
there is not much time to feel terrible for herself. “don’t about the money. do you want anything?” she marches off to the convenience store without waiting for an answer, already decided of what she was going to do. they needed money to keep running away, theresa would get the money to make sure that they could keep running away. she could be useful, at least once. alright, ladies and gentleman, let’s see who’ll win the prize for keeping their cool. everybody lie down on the floor. her voice is firm, and she points the gun without shaking too much, forcing the cashier to show her all the money they had. she does it just like the last bastard she had met told her, reminding herself that it’s not a big deal and they need it. with a discreet smile on her face, she leaves the store with the money, not before gettng grace’s favorite candy, finally ready to leave. “grace, drive!” she jumps into the car, almost hurting herself in the process, but with all the money they needed safe in her bag. “drive! let’s go!”
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Lifeline - Part 16
Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader
Word Count: 3600+
Warnings: Blood, angst, kidnapping, hospitals
Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist
Thor whistled, clutching onto your Tupperware as he punched in the gate code to your condo, hearing a dog barking in the distance. “Dogs, such noisy creatures. This is why Darryl and I agreed to no dogs, but I will admit they can be adorable at times,” he mumbled to himself, pausing on the last digit, noticing the gate partially opened. “Huh? That can’t be right.”
He pushed open the gate and stepped in, turning to close it until he heard it lock in place. He reassured himself with a nod and continued up the path to your house, hearing the barking get louder. Thor rubbed his lips together as his eyes traveled to the small porch, spotting a dark figure lying on the ground.
“What in the name is…” Thor's eyes widened, getting closer and recognizing the figure to be Steve. Thor dropped your Tupperware to the ground, sprinting to him, and kneeled down next to him. “STEVE, STEVE. HEY, HEY, WAKE UP?”
The motion sensor lights flickered on, and Thor’s mouth dropped open, taking in Steve’s appearance. Steve was lying on his side in a small pool of blood. A gash on the side of his head glistened in the light with blood coating one side of his neck. Thor gulped, zipping off his sweatshirt, and pulling his phone from his pants pocket, dialing 911.
“STEVE, STEVE...YOU THERE BUDDY? STAY WITH ME…” Thor shouted, placing his phone on speaker and setting it on the ground. He rotated Steve onto his back, placing two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse while applying slight pressure to his head wound using his sweatshirt.
“911, what’s your emergency?” A male voice asked on the other side of the line.
“I need medical and police response to 761 High Ridge Drive Unit 1. We have an unconscious adult male suffering from some sort of head trauma.” Thor’s eyes traveled down Steve’s form, seeing a knife sticking out of his torso. “Scratch that, a head trauma and a stab wound to his torso.”
“May I ask who I am speaking with?”
“Thor Odinson. I’m a firefighter with the 107.”
“Wait, Thor…this is Bruce; is everything alright?”
“The victim is Steve Rogers. He is bleeding from both his head and his abdomen.”
“Units are on their way. Do you know what happened or how long he has been down?”
“I don’t know. I just came to drop my sister’s Tupperware off, and from the amount of blood, I would assume it hasn’t been long.”
“How’s his pulse?”
“It’s weak, and his breathing is shallow. Come on, Steve, wake up. Help is on the way.” Thor tapped him on the cheek, hearing a small groan leave his lips. “There you are. Good, good.” Thor let out a sharp, relieved breath, taking in his surroundings. His mouth went dry as he glanced over his shoulder at your front door, hearing a dog whining inside. “Steve, Steve, Where is YN? Is she still here?”
“YN,” he wheezed with his eyes closed. “Jig.”
Thor narrowed his eyes at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Jig? Steve, what are you saying? STEVE.” Thor tapped in on the cheek again but got nothing in response. He sighed, rechecking his pulse and nodding to himself when it was still there. “Hang on, Steve.”
“Responders are nearby,” Bruce stated through the phone. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Thor.”
Thor’s head snapped to the street upon hearing sirens, and the gate clicked open, having given Bruce the code earlier. Paramedics came rushing in, taking over his current position and examining him even farther. Thor stood off to the side, hearing nothing, but the sound of his own breathing, watching the medics work quickly. His mind was in a haze, and before he returned to his senses, Steve was on the stretcher going down the walkway. One of the paramedics was standing in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“Are you going to be okay?” She asked again, placing her hand on his shoulder.
“Ahhh...yeah,” he nodded at her question. “Of course.”
“The police will be here shortly.” The paramedic patted him on the shoulder, handing him his phone before following her team.
“You still there, Thor?” Bruce asked as Thor watched the flashing lights disappear in the distance.
“Yeahhhh,” he dragged out, bringing the phone to his ear. “YN.”
He opened the door to your condo, and his stomach dropped at the carnage before him. The pillows and blankets that laid on the couch were scattered all around the living room. The small glass entry table Nat gave you was shattered to pieces along with what looked like a broken wine bottle. Photos hanging on the walls were no longer straight, and a few laid broken on the floor.
He gulped, staring at what stood before him. “No, no, no,” he chanted to himself, racing up the stairs. “YN, YN, where are you?” He shouted, looking around your room and bathroom upstairs. He ran back down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. “YN,” he bleated, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Thor, did you find anything?” Bruce questioned from the phone in Thor’s hand.
“She’s uh….she’s not here. She’s gone,” he sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut. “All her stuff is here, but she’s gone.”
“All units responding to 761 High Ridge Drive, please be advised we also have a critical missing adult female: YN Odinson Russo.”
“He found her.” Thor’s voice dropped, making his body tensed up. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, causing the hair on his arm to stand up straight. He let out a deep calming breath, but it did nothing to calm him down.
“Hey, man. We’ll find her.”
“Bye, Bruce,” Thor grunted, hanging up the phone. He let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How did he let this happen? He was supposed to protect you, but he failed you again. He promised you, and now, he broke that promise. He gave you to Billy without even giving you a chance, and Steve almost died in the process.
A noise behind him made his body jerk around in one swift motion with his hands raised, ready to throw a punch but dropped them once he heard it coming from the closet. He took a cautious step towards it and pulled it open, jumping back with his fists raised. He dropped them, seeing Cosmo whining and staring up at him. “What happened here boy?”
Cosmo stepped out of the closet, and that’s when Thor’s eye caught the red marks around his mouth. “Did you bite him?” Cosmo whined, forcing a slight smile to Thor’s lips. “Did I call your kind noisy earlier; well, I meant amazing.” Thor leaned down, scratching him on the head, staring at the stained fur around his mouth. Thor’s mouth spread into a closed-mouth smile with a single tear escaping down his cheek.
___________
Thor watched the crime scene unit take pictures, seeing the flashes repeat themselves over and over again. He bit his lip, picturing Steve lying motionless on the ground as he tried to imagine a better outcome for you. Were you okay? Were you hurt?
“Hey, big guy. How are you holding up?” Nat asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged in response, not breaking eye contact with the front door. “Do you know what happened?”
He shook his head, catching her eye. “He did it, Nat. I know it was him; It was Billy.”
“Hey, we can’t assume it's him. For all, we know he is still in New York. We will figure this out as long as you let us do our jobs.”
“Are you kidding me?” He stood up straighter, pushing Nat’s hand away from him. “My sister, one of your best friends, goes missing, and you think some random asshole off the street came in, hit Steve over the head, and stabbed him, and then, what...for shits and giggles was like BLEUGH, let’s kidnap her. I mean, come on, who else would want to hurt her, Nat? Who?”
“You don’t think I know that. You don’t think I know what that asshole put her through. You don’t think I suspected it was him when the call came through because I did...and if you think you’re the only one hurting right now, you’re wrong,” She countered, poking him on the chest. Thor clenched his jaw, staring down at her to see tears threatening to fall in her eyes. “You need to trust us and let us do our job. The same way people put their trust in you to save their lives.” She pursed her lips, stepping away from him to go inside to look at the crime scene.”
“She’s right, man,” Clint added, standing off to the side. “Let us do our thing, and we’ll catch him.”
___________
Thor looked down at his watch, still standing in the same spot on the grass. He was supposed to be getting questioned but like everything else. They were taking their sweet time when they should be focusing on finding you.
“Hi, I’m Detective Nick Fury, and from what I understand, you're YN’s brother.” Thor tilted his head, sizing up the man with an eye patch, noticing Nat and Clint behind him.
“Yes, how can I help?”
“From what my associates have filled me in on, they say you believe it was her ex-husband--” he flipped through his note pad “--Billy Russo. Yet, he lives some 3,000 miles away in New York City, so at this point, he isn’t guilty of anything.” He arched an eyebrow at Thor. “Did he know she was here?”
“Well… no, I don’t think so…but he did tell her if she ever left him, he would kill her.”
“Did YN tell you this?”
“Yes.”
“Did Russo threaten and/or hurt YN before this?”
“Yes.”
“She did file for divorce a day or so ago. It could have put her back on his radar.” Nat spoke up from behind him, and Fury nodded his head, writing a few notes in his notepad.
“We will look into him. Now, you mentioned to dispatch that before Rogers passed out, he mentioned someone by the name of Jig. Does that name sound familiar to you or you two behind me?” Nat and Clint both arched a bow, looking at each other, and mumbled no.
“No, I don’t know him,” Thor answered, furrowing his brows together before his eyes shot open wide. “WAIT, Fury. I remember Steve mentioning this new friend he was playing pool with; I never met him, but now, I know why because it was Billy. He got close to Steve so he could get close to YN.” Fury stared at him, trying to wrap his head around it. “What, you don’t believe me? I mean...look at Steve’s phone. It’s right by the door; check for yourself.”
Fury sighed, looking at him. “It’s a good theory, but unfortunately, the phone is locked. We can’t open it without the victim's consent.”
“He’s in the hospital right now after almost dying. I think that gives you consent to look at any of his things as long as it pertains to finding my sister,” Thor shouted, standing up taller and pointing at the front door.
“They will subpoena his phone records, but it’ll take time,” Nat added, crossing her arms. Thor shot her a hard glare, shaking his head with a vengeful smile.
“This is ridiculous. What if YN doesn’t have time? For all, we know she could be dead already because all of you are wasting time here instead of going out and looking for her. Come on, Billy did this.” Thor said, slapping his hand into his palm. “It’s like every crime documentary I've watched; it’s always the husband, boyfriend, lover, or ex...” Thor rolled his eyes and started pacing back and forth. “He almost killed Steve, and he could--he could kill her next.” His voice drifted off, rubbing his forehead.
“But he didn’t…” Clint stated, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you’re right; Billy did this. He found out where she was and hurt Steve, but YN’s not here...and if all he wanted to do was kill her…”
“...then I would have found her, too,” he sniffled, clenching and unclenching his jaw.
“And you didn’t.” Clint squeezed his shoulder. “She was alive when he took her, and we have to hold onto that right now.” Thor gulped, staring blankly at the front porch.
“You’re right,” he breathed, staring down at Clint, nodding to Fury and Nat. “I should let you work. I’m gonna head to the hospital to see Steve...that is if we are done here?”
“We’re done for now,” Fury nodded, watching Thor go to his truck.
“You don’t think you’re gonna find her alive, do you?” Nat asked Fury, crossing her arms across her chest.
“In these situations, the most dangerous time for a woman is when she leaves her abuser. YN knew this, that’s why she was hiding, but if it is him…well, these scenarios usually don’t come with a happy ending.”
“Do we have any witnesses?”
“None.” He shook his head. “At this time, we are still trying to access her security footage, but we did manage to get access to a street camera across the street. The image is a little grainy, but it did catch what looked to be a man forcing her into his car. All we got is a dark-colored sedan, which doesn’t exactly narrow down our search.”
“Nope, it just sounds like a bad guy's car,” Clint added, nodding his head.
____________
Thor sat on one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, leaning his head against the wall. Steve was still in surgery, and by the looks of it, no one found you yet. Bucky and Val showed up a little while ago and were both in the corner talking with Carol, who got there first. Thor sat there quietly, staring at nothing with his blood ragging and fighting the urge to punch something. He leaned forward, hunching himself over rubbing his face with his hands. He sighed, removing his hands, spotting a pair of workbooks in front of him. His eyes traveled up to see Val standing in front of him.
“Mind if I sit?” Thor pointed to the spot next to him and nodded with pursed lips. “I drew the short straw,” Val confessed, forcing him to scoff. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good, great even. The rage, vengeance, and anger coursing through my veins is nothing compared to what Billy is going to be feeling when I find that bastard.” He forced a smile, letting out a soft determined chuckle. Val placed a hand around his wrist, and he stared at her hand, feeling his invisible vail start to slip from his face.
“Everyone is feeling that way right now, but how are you really?”
He cleared his throat, glancing between Val and the floor, letting out a shaky breath. “I uh...I told YN that she didn’t need to keep running, that she should stay here and start over where she would be safe. I would keep her safe,” he sniffled, rubbing at his nose. “She had this dramatic plan all laid out, I was only her first stop, but then I convinced her to stay. I promised her I would protect her and keep her out of harm's way.” He stared off into the distance. “But, he still found her, and I broke our promise. If she left like she planned to and she kept running, he never would’ve found her.”
Val sighed beside him, squeezing his wrist before letting go. “It’s not your fault. Yeah, sure, you might have promised her things, but I know YN wouldn’t want you blaming yourself. Hell, she would smack you upside the head if she knew what you were thinking.” She knocked her shoulder with his, and he smirked, nodding his head. “There is no telling what would've happened if she kept running. He might have caught up with her, he might not have, but if he did, she would’ve been alone and scared.”
“She’s alone with him…now”
“But, I don’t think she is as scared as she would’ve been if it wasn’t for you being there and helping her through this.” Thor caught her eye as a stray tear fell down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away, hoping it would go unnoticed.. “Dude, she was happy here, and I bet it was the happiest she's been in a long time.”
Thor was about to say something when his phone started ringing. He pulled it from his pocket, seeing Loki's name flashing on the screen. “It’s my brother; I better take this.” Thor stood up, answering it while he walked to a quiet hallway.
“What happened, brother?”
“Why would you assume something happened? I could’ve just called to see how you’ve been or asked about the movie you’re working on.”
“It’s a theatre production, not a film, but seriously brother, what’s the problem?”
Thor walked back and forth in the hallway, not knowing what to say or how to say it. He breathed into the phone, leaning against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Say something?”
“What do you want me to say? That I messed up again. And our little sister is yet again in danger because of me. Or how one of my good friends is in the hospital, fighting for his life.”
“What? She’s gone? How did this happen?” Loki shouted into the phone, forcing Thor to remove it from his ear. “Thor. You had one job, just the one; keep our little sister safe. And you couldn’t even do it,” he snapped with an exasperated tone.
“I did keep her safe. Sorry, I wasn’t coddling her like you did in New York. I, at least let her have a life, make friends, and have fun without me being…”
“I beg your pardon, we had fun here, and she has tons of friends here,” Loki interrupted.
“Well, at least I encouraged her to stay and start over instead of galavanting around like a chicken.”
“Why a chicken?”
“It’s a saying, I don’t remember the other half of it, but it’s not important. YN managed to find a new life, and she’s happy here.”
“I never said she wasn’t happy, and she wasn’t unhappy in New York either. It all comes back to the sleazebag she married.”
“We finally agree on something,” Thor added with a knowing smile. “If only sister could see us now?”
"She isn’t to know about this.”
“She wouldn’t believe us anyway.”
“You have a point there.” Thor could picture Loki’s wicked smirk on his face.
“When can you get here?”
“I’m leaving for the airport now. I’ll see you soon, brother.” Loki hung up, and Thor closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.
Thor came back to the waiting room to find Nat and Clint there with their notepads out, probably asking them questions about Steve. He returned to the chair he was sitting in before, hunching himself over and twirling his phone around in his hand with his leg bouncing. He caught Nat’s eye, and he shot her a hard glare, shaking his head. She didn’t even care that one of her best friends was abducted; instead, she was more worried about her job and following orders; when did she decide to finally become a rule follower. Thor heard footsteps approach him, and he looked beside him to see Sam.
“Hey man, I heard what happened. Sorry, I’m so late. I took an extra shift. Everything alright? Do you need anything?” Sam asked, taking the seat next to him.
“No news and I’m doing fine,” Thor gulped, leaning back and resting his hands together on his stomach.
“Any news on Steve?” Thor shook his head, staring straight ahead. “Do the police have any leads on YN?”
“None. As far as I am aware.” He shrugged, pointing to Nat and Clint. “They haven’t told me anything yet.”
Sam nodded, glancing between Thor and Nat, sensing something happened earlier. “How were Steve’s injuries? Was he still conscious?
“They seemed severe, but we’ve both seen worse. He had a gash on the side of his head, a knife sticking out of his torso. There was quite a bit of blood. He was unconscious, but he did manage to say YN and Jig before he passed out again. Never met him, so I don’t know if he has something to do with this. I have my theories, but the police aren’t looking into it. I told them to check his phone to see if Jig’s number matches her ex-husbands and that maybe he was lying about his name, but it’s breaking the chain of custody or some nonsense.” Thor crossed his arms, shaking his head.
“Wait, Steve said Jig,” Sam questioned, and Thor nodded, having explained this multiple times so far. “You know I suspected him to be a little off when I met him at Happy’s. He seemed a little too full of himself with his hair gelled back, and his... “
“You’ve met him,” Thor asked, sitting up straight with wide eyes. “If I bring up a picture of him. Do you think you could recognize him?” Sam nodded, and Thor scrolled through his phone until he found a picture of you and Billy. “Is this him?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy. How did…” Sam’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, shit.”
“I knew it.” Thor shot out of his chair heading straight for Nat.
____________
AN: Thanks for reading Part 16. Oh snap! How did this happen? Things were going so well, her and Steve were going to go on a date, but now she got kidnapped, Steve is in the hospital, and Cosmo got shoved into a closet. And just when Thor was starting to forgive himself for past events, this shit happens! And what is going on with Nat being a rule follower all the sudden? Interesting...And now, Loki is on his way to LA. (I never wrote him before, so I hope I did him justice!!) And for those of you that are 9-1-1 fans, it is similar to the kidnapping episode, you know the one. I like how they concocted it, so I worked off of that, but I did tweak it to my liking. As many suspected, Jig turned out to be Billy. It's a good thing Sam met him that night otherwise who knows how long it would've taken for them to realize. Also, I am curious if any of you Googled the name Jig with Marvel because I did, and he popped right up! Haha! Or did my subtle hints help you figure it out? Anyways, any theories as to what's to come? Will Thor ever be able to forgive himself? Is Steve gonna pull through? Are they going to find her in time? So many questions...I hope you all enjoyed Thor's POV in this part, I thought it would be a good change of pace. Anywho, my ramble is done, comments always welcome! Thanks again for reading!
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers au#steve rogers x female reader#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel au#firefighter!steve#firefighter!bucky#firefighter au#steve rogers series#captain america#captain america x reader#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#avengers#avengers au#avengers fanfiction#first responder au#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america fanfiction
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I Almost Do (Darry Curtis x Reader)
Warnings: angst, sadness.
Summary: Things Just haven’t been the same for Darry since the night that you left.
(a/n: It’s been a while since I wrote anything for the Outsiders. I’ve been very busy recently and haven’t had as much time as I would’ve liked for writing. I’m not going to promise to be better because knowing me, I probably won’t haha. However, feel free to request something. It’ll help me be more motivated.)
—-
Darry sat in his chair in the living room of the Curtis house. It was nearing 1am and his brothers were long in bed. However, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was you. Your happy face, shining eyes and wide smile that he felt so in love with.
It was times like this, times when the stress of his life caught up with him that he missed you most. You always had a way of making him feel better. Even if it was something as simple as cooking dinner for him and the family or giving him a back rub. It was like you possessed some kind of magic that always had him weak at the knees. Something that made him cling to you as if you were a life raft when he felt like he was drifting further and further away from the shore.
He stared out the window across from where he sat, his eyes gazing over the dimly lit street. It was silent at this time of night, a ghostly mood hanging in the air and lingering in the lonely alleyways of Tulsa. Darry felt the emptiness of the night and the town more then ever now. He felt as if there was a gaping hole in his chest that would not close. A hole that only you could fill.
He let out a hefty sigh. It’s not as though he could talk to anyone about it either. His friends wouldn’t understand and he didn’t want to place this burden on his siblings. However, as the night went on, he imagined you were there, sitting on the couch across from him or on his lap, head resting in the nape of his neck. He imagined you whispering words of reassurance to him, telling him that he was a good brother and a good man and that everything would work out alright in the end.
Of course, I’m that moment, nothing seemed alright. Everything felt confusing. He felt like time had been moving in slow motion ever since you’d left.
His mind wandered back to the last night he saw you. He remembered the way you’d fought, how you’d pleaded with him to open up more, not to carry the burdens of his life on his own. He remembered how he hardened, not liking to express his vulnerability, even to someone he cared so much for. He remember how he’d exploded, yelling at you and eventually telling you to leave. He remembered the tears in your eyes as you packed your things, walking out of his house and his life and slamming the door behind you.
He could tell that all of the boys missed you. You were the most kind and caring person any of them had met and they’d grown to think of you as an older sister. You were always taking care of them in a way that they couldn’t themselves. The house felt empty to all of them now, without your smile and your laughter. They were all mad at Darry, he could see it on their faces. However, none of them were brave enough to bring it up to him, rather resolving to sulking alone and missing you internally.
Of course, Darry missed you the most. And as he sat in the chair, staring out into the dark Tulsa night, he wondered what you were doing now.
—
You sat alone on the musty motel bed. It was late but you couldn’t sleep. You kept having nightmares, or regrets rather, about the life you’d left behind in Tulsa.
Darry had been the love of your life. You were completely perfect for each other. You’d given up everything you had to be with him and on the night he told you to leave, you realised how much you really needed him.
Once you left the Curtis house, you didn’t have anywhere to go. You debated asking Dallas if he could get you a room at Buck’s, however, the idea of potentially running into Darry in the near future seemed far too painful.
Instead, you decided to leave. You decided to escape the town and all reminders of the man you’d once loved. You wanted to start a new life, although it seemed that whenever you found yourself alone, your thoughts would drift back towards him.
You wanted more than anything to let him go and to move on but you just couldn’t find the strength to.
So you sat there, on the uncomfortable motel bed, eyeing the phone that sat on the table across the room.
Your brain jumped back and forth, trying to decide whether not it was a good idea to call him. You’d wanted to call him ever since the night you left almost two weeks ago now. You’d spent hours pacing back and forth, biting your nails and eyeing the phone as if it was a dangerous animal that was preparing to pounce. You’d almost called him so many times but every time you were about to, the fear got in the way. What if he was still mad at you? What if he didn’t want you back?
You looked at the clock. It was late but knowing Darry, he probably wouldn’t be asleep yet.
You found yourself getting up against your will, your feet making their way towards the back of the room. The phone sat there, as if it was tormenting you. You knew his number by heart.
Your hands gently brushed the receiver, yet didn’t take the phone of the hook. You stood there for a moment in the silent room, your mind and heart racing at the sound of hearing his voice once again.
Before you knew it, you felt your fingers punching the numbers into the phone. The waiting was like torture, long and drawn out moments of pain that reminded you of all you were missing. You waited and waited and waited.
The longer you stood there with the phone to your ear, the more that the hopes of him picking up seemed like a distant fantasy. You were just about to give up, about to hang up the phone and go back to sleep, turning on your heel and escaping your old life for good. Then suddenly, deep voice filtered in through the object in your hands.
“Hello? This is Darryl Curtis Speaking.”
#The Outsiders#darry curtis x reader#Steve Randle#Ponyboy Curtis#darry curtis#Johnny Cade#Dallas Winston#two bit mathews#Sodapop Curtis#idek at this point
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It's Friday and what should be a quiet afternoon is getting quite noisy.
-Legendary comic artist/writer Neal Adams passed away yesterday. Adams co-created Green Lantern John Stewart, Batman nemesis Ra's-Al Ghul and Man-Bat.
He was also a strong advocate for creators rights and was one of the front leaders and secure credit recognition and pensions for Superman creators Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.
-BATWOMAN has fought her last battle on the CW. The show has been axed after 3 seasons.
There was more behind-the-scenes drama on the series than in front of the camera. S1 saw the departure of series star Ruby Rose. At the time of their leaving the show, Rose gave being allergic to the costume as the rationale for leaving. Last year, Rose admitted that they left the show due it being a "toxic workplace" alleging unsafe working conditions to led to their accident requiring surgery and being pressured to return to the show while still recovering. Rose also accused costar Dougray Scott, who played Batwoman's father, of bullying women on set and detailed a run in with costar Camrus Johnson (Luke Fox/Batwing) who Rose says got on their case for returning to set late from a doctor's appointment.
Scott disputes that he was abusive on set, WB-TV backed him up during their investigation and even said it was Rose who had multiple complaints lodged against them.
Johnson had this to say at the time.
Things were quiet after new star Javicia Leslie took up the cowl, but it was too late.
-Also gone is LEGENDS OF TOMORROW.
-Either the continuing Johnny Depp v. Amber Heard trial is taking up everyone's attention or people don't care about THE WALKING DEAD anymore. Melissa MacBride has existed the planned Carol and Darryl spinoff show.
Her team's statement.
“Melissa McBride has given life to one of the most interesting, real, human and popular characters in The Walking Dead Universe. Unfortunately, she is no longer able to participate in the previously announced spinoff focused on the Daryl Dixon and Carol Peletier characters, which will be set and filmed in Europe this summer and premiere next year. Relocating to Europe became logistically untenable for Melissa at this time. We know fans will be disappointed by this news, but The Walking Dead Universe continues to grow and expand in interesting ways and we very much hope to see Carol again in the near future,” AMC said in a statement Wednesday.
For some reason fans have decided to blame Norman Reedus for her departure which lead Jeffrey Dean Morgan (Negan) to defend his pal.
Why must you all have Papa Winchester yell at you? You know a Winchester loves nothing more than to create Twitter drama (:: eyes Jared Padalecki::)
-Marvel gives a slight twist to their upcoming slap, swapping out dates for the CAPTAIN MARVEL sequel, THE MARVELS, for ANT-MAN & THE WASP: QUANTUMANIA.
THE MARVELS (with Tom Hiddleston's rumoured fiancee, Zawe Ashton joining)
previously held a release date of Feb. 17, 2023 but is now moving to July 28, 2023.
ANT-MAN & THE WASP (with newcomer Jonathan Majors, late of LOKI)takes on the Feb. 17th slate.
-Someone who doesn't have to worry about day and dates is director Jon Watts (SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME) who has exited the FANTASTIC FOUR reboot.
#neal adams#comics#dc comics#comic book artists#marvel#the walking dead#jeffrey dean morgan#melissa mcbride#norman reedus#twd#batwoman#ruby rose#camrus johnson#jon watts#fantastic four#the marvels#captain marvel#zawe ashton#ant man and the wasp#legends of tomorrow#the cw#cw#dcu#dceu
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