#oc: daisy sunday

[moonlightfirelight]

[sadhours]

blue sunday

chapter one

billy hargrove x female!oc (daisy way)

masterlist

cw: 18+, minors dni, smut, established relationship (kind of?), references to prostitution, manipulation, alcohol use, daddy kink, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v

summary: billy and daisy made a real stupid decision, got hitched on a wild and drunken night but the longer they spend time together, the less Billy’s regretting the decision. but are they really meant to be?

NEVADA • JULY 1991

The Starlite Motel is near downtown. It has a big neon sign, a facade of glitz and glamour masking the true gritty form. Billy’s stayed here before. When he first landed in this bizarro Nevada town. It was the only room he could afford at the time. His skin kind of crawls as he drives up into the parking lot. The place is known for housing criminals, junkies and prostitutes. And apparently, Billy’s brand new wife.

He glances down at the passenger seat, eyeing the monstrous stack of paperwork. Annulment papers. The right decision, based on where she’s staying. Even if she is devastatingly gorgeous, or at least Billy remembered her being that way. The night was fuzzy, he can’t even remember the wedding he was so trashed. When he woke up in the casino hotel room, he was still fucking hammered. But there was a girl next to him in bed, with a cheap veil clipped in her bleached hair. Champagne bottles strewn across the room and as he was emptying his stomach out in the toilet, the girl woke up. Held a paper up to his face and said, “Hiya, husband, how ya feeling?”

To which Billy kept puking. The paper was a marriage certificate. Damned this fucking town and their lack of last calls and abundance of twenty-four hour wedding chappels. It’s designed for bad decisions. Kind of the whole reason Billy was even drawn to this place. He’d meant to make it back to California, but ran out of money here. And by the time he’d earned enough money to leave, he didn’t want to. Found himself a steady, decent paying job in construction and next thing Billy knew, he was buying his own fucking house. Well, single-wide trailer that was falling apart but fuck it, Billy was a homeowner. If only Neil could fucking see him now. Er, maybe not him right now… sitting outside a cheap motel where his wife lives and uh, presumably works. Damnit, it’s time to undo this drunken mistake.

Billy grips the papers and walks up to the door labeled 12. He knocks twice and hangs back. It’s hot out, only ten AM but the desert heat beats down on him. Must already be 75 degrees. There’s still no answer, he can’t hear noise behind the door– all he can hear is the group of men his age gathered at the end of the ‘hallway’, talking quietly. Billy knocks again, firmer this time and tries to peek through the window but the blinds are closed. Tells himself he’ll give her five more fucking minutes to answer the door.

While he waits, he lights up a smoke. Folds the annulment papers and tucks them in the back pocket of his worn Levi’s. Those five minutes pass and he turns on his feet to leave but as he’s stalking back to his car, he sees her. She’s wearing a cheetah print bikini top, a short denim skirt and red flip flops. The top does little to cover her huge tits, with every step they jiggle and Billy’s only a man, so he’s staring. Figures the dudes twenty feet down are also staring at her. Her blonde hair is tied up haphazardly in a bun, strands of it falling around her neck and face. Then Billy sees the cigarette between her lips, a can of beer in her hand and the rest of the six pack in the other. It’s ten in the morning and she’s drinking a beer. Billy can’t help but get this odd feeling he’s looking into some weird gender bending mirror.

“Is that my husband?” she calls when she’s a couple feet away, a smile spreading against her plush lips. Fuck, she’s gorgeous and he’s kind of bummed they had to meet in the way they did. There’s no way in hell he can stay married to a stranger, no matter how foxy she is.

“Not for long,” Billy tells her around his cigarette.

Daisy rolls her eyes as she makes it to the door, handing him her beer before rustling through the small pink purse on her shoulder. She retrieves a set of keys and too many keychains. Unlocks the door and kicks it open, snatching her beer back and heads inside. Billy follows her, taken back by the stench of her motel room. It’s not totally foul, but definitely not pleasant. Can’t be totally Daisy’s fault, this establishment isn’t exactly well taken care of. But it reeks of cigarettes, stale food and something sickly sweet— kind of like green apple and cotton candy. Billy thinks it’s Daisy’s perfume.

“Want a beer?” she asks, ripping one out of the plastic and handing it over before Billy answers. So he takes it but he pulls the annulment papers out as he does so. Hands them to her.

She drops her purse, pushes her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head and looks at the papers. Almost looks disappointed. But how could she be? They don’t even know each other. She sets them on her unmade bed, on the pillows and sits down next to them.

“So, yeah, you sign those and it’s like it never happened,” Billy says.

Daisy nods slowly, brings her beer to her lips and gulps down the rest of it. Sets the empty can on her nightstand and then reaches for a second before tossing the butt of her smoke in the empty can.

“We must’ve had a good night,” she shrugs. “I know we had a good morning, ya know, after you hurled in the toilet for an hour.”

Yeah… Billy remembers that, at least. The sex that morning was good— great even. And he can’t be shocked it happened because standing here, across from Daisy, he feels this strange magnetism between them. He wants to touch her.

“It was fun,” he replies, soft because he doesn’t exactly wanna admit that to her.

Daisy pouts her lips, leans forward and her biceps are pressing her tits together. Like she’s trying to tempt him. Unfortunately, it’s working. His eyes immediately drop to the curve of her breasts.

“So, why are you so quick to divorce me, Billy? You don’t think I’m pretty?” Daisy asks, her voice all exaggerated sadness and he has to snort.

“It’s not a divorce. And you’re plenty pretty, I think you’re fucking aware of that,” he offers, “But I don’t know you, and I should probably know the person I’m marrying, yeah?”

She giggles, reaches up and pulls her hair out of the messy updo. Wavy blonde falling seductively around her shoulders. Damn, she’s good.

“You can get to know me.”

“You’re okay with being shacked up with a stranger?” Billy asks, tilting his head.

Well, he thinks maybe that’s literally her job, but it feels rude to ask or tell her he assumes so.

Daisy blinks, all innocent and pretty at him when she says, “I might’ve hit the jackpot with a hunk like you. Sue me for not being eager to let you go.”

“I absolutely could,” he counters, but he’s smirking. He’s kidding. Kind of. “You think I’m a hunk?”

“I’d fuck you right now,” Daisy confesses, “and I really, really want to.”

They stare at each other, tension so heavy Billy can feel it in his chest. This is pure instinct right now. He puts his beer down, discards his smoke in Daisy’s makeshift ashtray and she’s putting her drink down too. Then he lunges at her, genuinely feels like he can’t help himself. Daisy falls back easily, arms around his neck while he intrudes her mouth with his tongue. She tastes like beer and Marlboros. Daisy moans into him, fingers tangling in the bottom of his mullet and she pulls, her hips canting up. He’s humping back like he’s a horny teenager again. Grabs hold of her jaw as he licks filthy into her mouth. It’s heady. Both of them are filled with adrenaline and desire.

In the back of his head, he thinks people pay for this. Well, maybe not this. Billy always heard that hookers don’t kiss. Either way, he pushes the thought away and actually lets himself indulge in the thought that this is his wife. And really, Billy’s always wanted a wife. Just hadn’t met anyone worth it. Maybe she is…

Daisy’s hands are pulling his shirt up and off of him. Billy takes the opportunity to get his mouth on her neck, sucking and licking and biting. She’s loud, moans unabashedly while she scratches down his back. Billy leaves marks, she’s his wife for fucks sake. He bites around the string of her bikini and pulls, undoes it with his teeth and her heavy breasts fall out of it. His mouth is on them in an instant, giving them the same treatment he gave her neck. He loves the way her skin tastes, sweet and salty. Makes his dick pulse. So he’s grinding down on her, searching for any semblance of friction.

“Billy…” she cries out once he reaches her nipple, licking broadly against it before sucking it between his lips. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He hums around her, smiling at the corners of his lips. He likes making her react like this, it gets him off. She is the hottest woman he’s ever seen, doesn’t even compare to the hundreds of centerfolds he’s seen. It’s getting to him, every time he looks up at her he thinks about it.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says before thinking more about it.

Daisy giggles, and it makes her even prettier. Then she says, “Thank you, daddy.”

And wow. Billy’s never been called that before. He pauses because he’s pretty shocked by the effect that’s having on his dick. He grabs her jaw, looking down at her a little crazed and he’s thrusting gently against her. Daisy’s eyes widen, mouth a little slack and she just kind of melts. Billy likes that, so he holds her a little tighter and barely shakes her head.

“Yeah? Am I your daddy?”

Daisy whines, wiggles against the bed as she gasps out, “Yes!”

Billy has to bite his lip to stifle his smile, he can’t let on how much he likes being called that. Also, he’s pretty sure the whole daddy thing is being dominant. Smiling at that would show her a weakness, he thinks. So he lowers her hand to around her neck, “You gonna suck daddy’s cock?”

“If he’ll let me,” Daisy replies, all wide eyes and pouty lips. Billy’s cock twitches again.

He laughs at her, shakes his head and climbs off of her. As he stands, he starts undoing his jeans and kicks his boots off. Daisy sits up, putting her hair back up in the messy bun as she awaits for Billy to pull his cock out. When he does, Daisy hums and smiles, “Better than I remember.”

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing her by the bun and guides her towards his cock. They both have the biggest smiles. It’s odd, the way Billy feels like this is easy and even comfortable or familiar. Honestly, it kind of scares him. But then Daisy’s licking up the side of his cock. His eyes roll back and he moans. Totally distracted from his nerves.

Her lips wrap around the head of his cock and she moans, blinking up at him before sucking. He grits his teeth, using his grip on his hair to guide his cock further into her mouth. Daisy’s stunning and she looks even better with something in her mouth. Can’t take his eyes off her, chin pressed to his chest as moans flow from his lips. She’s messy with it too, drooling around his cock and using her hand to stroke where he isn’t in her mouth. The eye contact is bizarre. Billy can’t recall another time he had a girl looking up at him like this. He likes it, feels like he’s got his own personal little porn star.

Then she takes him all the way, nose pressed against curly blonde hair and bobs her head. He wants to watch, but he can’t. His eyes squeeze shut as he growls low. Daisy even moans around him and Billy’s hips jerk forward, shoving deeper down her throat and fuck, she takes it like a champ. He has to pull out so he doesn’t cum. She squeezes the base of him, like she knows he’s close. Licks her lips as he peers up at him. And for the first time, he notices she’s got her skirt hiked up, panties pushed to the side as she rubs her pussy.

“You taste so good, daddy,” she tells him, “makes me so wet.”

“Let me see,” Billy goads her.

Daisy leans back, spreads her legs as she drags her fingers up and down her glistening folds. She spreads her lips, really showing off for him before sinking two fingers into her cunt. He gets on his knees, pulls her to the edge of the bed and pulls her panties off. Billy pushes her skirt up higher and she’s holding her legs up for him. He dives in, licking against her pussy. Billy groans at the taste, sweet and just a little tangy. Daisy moans, spreading her legs even further as he devours her. And fuck, she sounds so pretty. He eats her out like a starving man. More hungry than he’s ever been. The attraction here is fucking otherworldly. Billy cannot remember feeling so aroused by another woman. He feels a little insane from it, putting everything he has into licking her out. Nose bumping into her clit as he circles his tongue around her hole. Daisy’s not holding back, body shaking against the sheets as she wails. He can feel her wetness coating his cheeks and chin, she’s practically pouring out.

“Fuck,” she gasps, “Oh, my god, Billy!”

He moves his lips back up to her clit, slipping two fingers inside her pulsing cunt. Licking her clit rapidly, sliding his fingers in and out and he can feel her squeezing his digits. Keeps working until her legs snap shut, locking him in as she wails and seizes against the bed. He can feel her cumming, even wetter than she was and her walls tighten around his fingers. He keeps licking her until she’s pushing him away.

Daisy sits up, grabs Billy by the hair and pulls him into a kiss. No doubt tasting herself. There’s such an intense chemistry, it makes his head spin. And Daisy’s spinning him around. Pushing him on his back and straddling him, she kisses him harshly and reaches between their bodies. Grabs a hold of his cock and guides it towards her pussy, sinking down on it while they both moan out in pleasure. Billy knows they should use protection, that this is a dumb idea but it’s just too good to stop. And really, he can’t recall the night they married but he doubts they used it then and he knows they didn’t the morning after.

If anything, she’s a performer, bouncing on his cock. Her tits are moving with the motion. Billy doesn’t even know where to look, every inch of her body is fucking heavenly. She pulls her hair out of the hair tie, blonde tendrils falling to frame her face yet again. Daisy presses her palm to his chest, face all contorted in ecstasy as he fucks herself on his dick. His hands find her hips, trying to help her but it’s fruitless. Daisy’s a pro, she doesn’t need Billy to help. But he thinks it’s encouraging enough. His legs tense up, feeling alarmingly close because of how gorgeous she looks and how amazing it feels inside her.

Daisy grabs the annulment papers next to Billy’s head, holds them in her hands as she rides him.

“I want this cock forever, daddy,” she confesses and rips the papers in half. He should be pissed, he should be furious. But he cums. No warning. Just shoots inside her.

She cries out from the feeling, speeds up her movements even. The annulment papers lay on Billy’s torso as she rides him through his orgasm.

Billy doesn’t try to get the annulment papers again and Daisy moves into his trailer three days later.

[tealottie]

GET READY FOR DUCKBLR FASHION WEEK! #Duckblr Fashion Week 2024 #DFW24

Everyone is allowed to participate and there are no rules! If you want to draw OC, draw characters as human, do prompts multiple times, skip prompts, etc - all is fine! This is meant for fun! :))

Below are further explanations and a flyer without Daisy and Donald in the background for easier reading <33

Monday: En Vogue En vogue means with the trends - fashion magazines, current clothing trends etc. Vogue inspires very geometrical and sleek ideas, but feel free to twist it any way you want. You could even interpret it as a redraw/study for a Vogue cover

Tuesday: Historical High Fashion Draw your favorite period fit and if you'd like, you can put a high fashion spin on it. a good movie example of a prompt like this would be Cruella!

Wednesday: Found in Nature Anything inspired by nature and can expand to any biome or animal you can think of, really - just something that embraces the natural world!

Thursday: Music to My Eyes Translate music to fashion. you could pick a genre and style a fit catered to it, or you could try to capture the essence of music to an outfit, etc - many ways to go about it. could also restyle a music artists outfit for a character, etc etc etc

Friday: Culture Couture Choose any culture to represent! example: Prissy and Melissa are Chinese so I may draw them wearing historical qipaos. Any culture can be given to any characters, so long as its respectful! We want to nurture culture appreciation, not appropriation!

Saturday: Pinups Please Draw a pinup of any of your favorite characters! NSFW is discouraged just because it's nice to keep our fanworks for this week for general audiences, but I am not one to tell someone no! Pinups are meant to be provocative, but theyre also meant to be fun - so please have fun with it!

Sunday: Wedding Dresses/Wedding Messes I want to not only keep this option open for wedding dresses/tuxes for your favorite ships, but i also want to open the idea of divorce or widowed inspired attire. Draw Goldie in a black dress and sunhat with satin gloves holding a bloody knife. Live your dreams\

All of this is VERY open to interpretation and there is no right or wrong! All I want is to spread creative prompts throughout this fandom and help inspire others <33 Feel free to tag any art posted with #Duckblr Fashion Week 2024 or #DFW24

[queenofwands89]

The Sweet Symphony of Sunday

Summary: On a laid-back Sunday, Negan, his wife y/n, and their three kids transformed their kitchen into a hub of joy and cookie-making mayhem.

Characters: Negan x reader (OC, Third Person)

Warnings: Fluff, Cooking, Negan being dirty-minded.  Word count: 1,767

AO3 Link

Notes: A short dad!Negan fic because I'm a whore for him. Enjoy!

The warm aroma of freshly baked cookies wrapped around the kitchen, a heartwarming melody accompanying the laughter and chatter that filled the space. On this particular Sunday, Y/n and Negan's home was a bustling hub of family activity, all hands on deck for what was shaping up to be the best batch of chocolate chip cookies yet. Y/n surveyed the counter with precision, ingredients laid out like the pieces of a well-loved story. “Alright, team,” she began, her voice a blend of encouragement and command. “Let’s make this the batch that rocks our world!”

Negan, with his undeniable charm, wrapped an arm around her, whispering in her ear, “Baby, every batch you make rocks my world.” His words, always right on the edge of playful and sincere, made her laugh, a sound as sweet as the sugar waiting to be mixed. As Y/n's laughter danced through the air, Negan took the moment to pull her closer. The children, momentarily preoccupied with their cookie creations, were oblivious to the tender exchange between their parents. With a gentle hand, Negan tilted Y/n's chin toward him, his gaze holding hers with an intensity that always made her heart flutter. “Really, darling,” he said in a low, earnest voice that only she could hear, “You rock my entire world. Not just with these cookies, but with everything you do.”

The sincerity in his eyes told her that this wasn't just another one of his playful remarks—it was a truth that he lived by. And before she could respond, Negan brushed his lips against hers in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was a show of affection. The world around them seemed to blur into the background, the sounds of the kitchen fading as they shared this moment, wrapped up in each other. It was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes, conveying years of shared smiles, struggles, and love—all the ingredients that made their life together as sweet and fulfilling as the cookies they baked.

As Negan and Y/n shared their sweet moment, it didn't take long for their bubble to burst as the observant eyes of their children caught the display of affection.

"Ewwww!" Joshua exclaimed theatrically, playfully covering his eyes but peeking through his fingers, unable to resist witnessing the scene.

Daisy and Liam joined in the chorus, their young voices overlapping in mock disgust. "Yucky!" Daisy squealed, sticking out her tongue while Liam added with a giggle, "Mommy, Daddy, stop smooching!"

Negan and Y/n couldn't help but laugh, pulling apart from their embrace. "Oh, you guys will understand one day when you're older," Negan assured them with a wink, ruffling Joshua's hair.

Y/n nodded in agreement, her heart full despite the playful reprimands. "Exactly! And you better believe we'll be the ones saying 'eww' then!" she teased, as she began to direct them back to the task at hand.

After a moment, Y/n was greeted by the sight of Negan's hazel eyes twinkling with joy. "Now, let's finish up these cookies, shall we?" He said with a chuckle, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before turning back to their children, who were eagerly waiting for the next instruction.

Joshua, their spirited eight-year-old, declared with the confidence of a born leader, “I’m in charge of mixing!” His eyes shone with the thrill of responsibility as he took his position at the bowl.

Meanwhile, Liam, ever the gentle soul, carefully measured the chocolate chips. “Do we have enough?” he asked, looking up at Y/n with big, earnest eyes.

Y/n nodded, ruffling his hair. “Just perfect, sweetie. You’re doing great.”

And Daisy, their youngest firecracker, already had her fingers in the dough. “Daddy, taste!” she demanded, presenting Negan with a dollop of her ‘creation’.

Negan pretended to inspect it closely. “Hmm, top-notch work, my little chef,” he praised before popping the dough into his mouth, making Daisy giggle delightedly.

As they all settled in, the comforting smell of cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen. Amidst this homely scene, Joshua wore a look of nervous anticipation, the upcoming Little League game weighing on his mind.

"Mom, do you think I'll play well in the game?" Joshua's voice trembled slightly, betraying his anxiety about the performance.

Y/n knelt down to his level, her eyes brimming with encouragement. "You're going to do great," she reassured him, her confidence buoying his spirits. "Just remember to enjoy yourself, that's the most important thing."

Seemingly comforted by his mother's words, Joshua's earlier tension began to dissolve, giving way to his broader dreams. "Then, do you think I can be a baker and a baseball player?" he asked, curiosity lighting up his features.

"Absolutely," Y/n responded without hesitation, her smile warm and affirming. "You can be anything you put your mind to."

The warmth of the conversation seemed to pull Negan deeper into the moment. Moving towards Joshua, he placed a loving kiss atop his oldest son's head, a simple gesture that spoke volumes of his support and affection. "That's right," Negan began, his voice laced with conviction and a hint of pride. "Whether it's on the field or in the kitchen, if you're passionate about it, you're going to succeed."

As the conversation shifted, Liam, inspired by his brother's ambition, chimed in with his own heartfelt aspiration. "What about me? Can I help save all the animals?"

Negan smiled, messing up Liam's hair affectionately. "Of course, we might have to think about getting a bigger place, though. A house with a large backyard might just do the trick."

The family laughter filled the kitchen, their individual dreams weaving together in the warmth of the oven’s glow, reminding everyone that with passion, support, and a bit of creativity, anything was possible.

Daisy chimed in, “I wanna be a princess baker!” Her declaration was met with laughter and affirming nods.

Y/n caught Negan’s eye, a silent exchange of love and pride passing between them. Here, in their laughter-filled kitchen, was everything they ever wanted. The oven timer dinged, and the moment had arrived. Negan, with exaggerated caution, opened the oven and announced, “Behold, the treasure!” The kitchen filled with the rich scent of freshly baked cookies—a signal that prompted beaming smiles and eager hands. As Negan carefully placed the tray on the kitchen island, the kids gathered around like moths to a flame, their earlier conversations about dreams and aspirations momentarily paused for the ritual of taste testing.

One by one, each child picked up a cookie, letting out satisfied "mmms" and "ahhs" as they bit into the warm, gooey goodness. The delectable blend of chocolate and dough melted on their tongues, eliciting bright eyes and contented sighs. They huddled together, sharing bites and comparing notes on the best parts of their cookies, filling the air with a chorus of appreciation for the sugary delights.

Daisy, with chocolate smeared across her face, declared, “These are the bestest ever!”

Negan looked at his daughter adoringly and gave her kisses on her cheeks. Negan's eyes twinkled with mischief as he pulled away from the shower of affection he'd just given his daughter, his kisses still lingering on her cheeks. Leaning languidly against the kitchen island, he polished off the last of his cookie, drawing out each lick of his fingers theatrically. "They're the best, sweetheart!" he declared with a roguish grin, his voice dipped in innuendo. "I could eat your mom's cookies for hours and never get tired."

His hazel eyes locked onto y/n's, glittering with a playful mix of desire and humor, punctuating his double entendre with a suggestive wink. Y/n couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at her husband's knack for slipping in a dirty joke. It was just so like him to spice up an ordinary moment with a hint of naughtiness.

Meanwhile, Daisy, blessedly unaware of the layered meaning in her dad's words, looked up at Negan with honest concern shining in her young eyes. "Daddy, you can't do that; you'll get a tummy ache!" she admonished earnestly, her grasp on the topic purely literal and wholesomely sweet.

Josuha, caught up in the excitement and oblivious to the adult humor afloat, confidently proclaimed his own ability. "I could do it!" he yelled, eager to join in what he perceived as a fun challenge.

"Me too! Me too!" Liam piped up, not wanting to be left out of the spirited banter. His tiny voice echoed with enthusiasm, a clear sign of his innocent eagerness to be a part of the action.

The scene was a charming tapestry of familial banter, with Negan's playful jests flying high above the children's heads yet grounding the family in laughter and light-heartedness. Negan let out a hearty laugh. "Ya’ll think so, huh? Maybe we'll have to have a cookie marathon one day, see who can really hold their own," he teased, winking at his son.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully at the idea, knowing full well the sugar rush that would follow. "Oh gosh, I can just imagine the sugar high and the crash after that," she said with mock horror.

Negan grinned at Y/n, his look softening, filled with affection. "Well, maybe not a marathon. How about we just enjoy these for now?" he suggested, trying to save Y/n from the impending madness he'd just considered instigating.

Daisy giggled, her attention solely on the cookies. "We could eat a mountain of cookies and still not get sick!" she boasted confidently.

"That's my brave little girl," Negan encouraged, smiling at her enthusiasm while reaching out and wiping the chocolate from Daisy's face with a napkin.

Liam, ever the voice of reason, added, "But we have to remember to brush our teeth extra well tonight, right, Mom?"

Y/n nodded, giving Liam a proud smile. "Exactly right, Liam. We don't want cavities ruining our cookie fun, do we?" She looked over the children with a heart swelling with tenderness, a picturesque scene right out of the happiest memories she would always cherish.

As the family's laughter and playful banter continued, the kitchen was bright with the joy of the moment and the promise of many more to come. It was a snapshot of their life together—messy, loud, and filled with love—where every joke, every nibble of a cookie, and every kiss on a chocolate-stained cheek was more than just a simple act. It was a brick in the foundation of their home, a testament to the life Y/n and Negan had built together.

[piastrixpole]

ii. flying high

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!oc (daisy shaw)

genre: written

based on the 2023 season

prev/ masterlist/ next

Time had seemingly barely passed before Daisy found herself getting whisked away with some other members of the team on a plane to Jeddah. From the moment the race had wrapped up on Sunday and they'd been immediately escorted into a debrief, time had blurred and Daisy was lost to the whirlwind of preparations for the upcoming race in Jeddah. If it weren't for her team being so on top of her schedule she definitely wouldn't be aware what day of the week it was.

Boarding the plane Daisy felt a familiar knot of anxiety seep into her gut. The kind of sickening feeling that lingered in the back of her mind and never truly faded despite the distractions she usually employed to keep it at bay. She'd never been good with flying - the sensation of being thousands of feet above the ground never failed to unsettle her.

Letting her eyes flutter shut once the plane began to taxi down the runway Daisy inhaled sharply. Trying to steady her nerves as they began their ascent. Attempting to force her mind to drift to the growing anticipation for the race ahead but not even the thrill of competition was enough to overshadow the dread she experienced when airborne.

Surprisingly it was an issue that a few of the drivers suffered from. Not that they had ever disclosed that personally to her but sometimes the team would make little remarks about it. Pierre and Charles were supposedly no better on flights and had been described to her by her trainer Mila who was friendly with their trainers that they were a jittery mess even on short flights.

Considering that all drivers were essentially control freaks at their core though, Daisy figured that it technically made sense. They put their lives on the line all the time for the sake of an adrenaline rush and the fuelling desire to win but it was easier to cope with because she was in control the entire time. Every shift of gear, every flick of the steering wheel, every conscious choice she made regarding her race craft was all a decision she made. Whereas with flying it was a complete power loss and she had to put her full trust in an unknown pilot.

She grew increasingly restless as her mind was plagued by thoughts of every single thing that could go wrong. For once she would have welcomed Daniel's incessant chattering because while she wouldn't admit it to him, the distraction would likely ease her nerves. But he was flying in with Max and a few other drivers. Daisy didn't know the full list as she hadn't been invited.

Feeling a gentle nudge on her shoulder Daisy opened her eyes revealing Stella, her long time friend and now press officer observing her with a sense of amusement twinkling in her eyes. "Bit nervous?"

Managing a weak smile and nodding sheepishly Daisy admitted "yeah, you could say that," her voice barely above a whisper.

Stella chuckled softly "it's quite funny you know."

Now Daisy was capable of mustering up a bit more snark in her reply "gee thanks Elle, what a friend you are."

"I know," the ginger girl hummed cheekily "but what I mean is you literally drive cars at over 300 kilometres an hour for a living Daisy and yet you're terrified of planes and flying."

She did have a point. It was rather ironic that she spent her days hurtling around race tracks at breakneck speeds and pushing herself to her physical and mental limits in the pursuit of victory while the simple act of sitting on a plane filled her with a sense of unease like no other.

"Yeah, I guess it is a bit ridiculous," Daisy admitted, a hint of self-deprecation in her voice.

"Wanna do shots?" Stella winked at her as she produced some of the mini liquors the plane was stocked with.

Of course Stella's first thought was to drink to cope with her uneasiness but it wasn't a terrible idea. "If it wasn't a race week I definitely would Elle but I'm gonna have to pass this time."

Stella was understanding. Of course she was, she had been by Daisy's side last year so she was well acquainted with her tendency to remain completely sober for the whole week leading up to a race. "Fair enough babe," she nodded "but we're going for drinks whenever you next have a free week and we're going hard."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from you," Daisy grinned widely, shaking her head at the request, scratch that - demand, from her friend.

Throwing her hand against her heart Stella gasped at Daisy's words "Are you calling me an alcoholic Daisy?"

Stella had always had a flair for the dramatics. Dealing with it and causing it. So it made sense that she ended up in the job she did. "I just heavily implied it...you said it, not me," Daisy winked "I'm a little angel I would never directly call you one."

"Rude!" Stella laughed "I could quit you know. Pretty sure this is unprofessional Daiz - workplace bullying."

"Be so real," Daisy scoffed "your life would be so boring without me nearly ruining my career every five minutes when all these opiniated men test my patience. And you get to travel the world with your girlfriend because of me."

When Daisy first signed for Porsche half way through her second season in formula two she had already enlisted Stella's help in dealing with her public image. Figuring that if she had to play the game with the press, the least she could do was give one of her best friends a job to make it slightly bearable. So she had accompanied Daisy to the meeting Klaus Muller, the newly appointed team principal of the incoming Porsche team. She had met Mila shortly after when Daisy got settled and Stella was hopeless from day one.

They were sickeningly sweet as a couple Daisy had to admit even though she bullied them relentlessly for it after they finally confessed their feelings and stopped pining after one another and not so subtly flirting.

"I hate it when you make good points," Stella groaned "but I guess you're right, I'm always on the verge of an early heart attack when you open your mouth."

Daisy rose an eyebrow at her friend's unintentionally suggestive words and then the colour drained from Stella's face as she realised what she said and how it had been interpreted "don't even," she warned Daisy before she could slag her.

She couldn't help but stifle a laugh at Stella's now mortified expression, her eyebrows shooting up in mock innocence. "Oh, come on, Stella," she protested with a mischievous grin. "I'm a model of maturity and decorum. You know me."

Stella shot her a withering glare, her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought to maintain her composure. "Sure, Daisy, sure," she replied, her tone dripping with scepticism. "And I'm the Queen of England."

Daisy raised her hands in surrender, a grin spreading across her face. "Fair point," she conceded, unable to contain her amusement any longer. "But in my defence, you did set yourself up for that one."

Stella rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression as she turned back to face Daisy. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just whatever you do, do not repeat that back to Mila."

"If you can get me out of the press conference I'll keep my lips sealed...oh wait!"

"You're impossible," she muttered, shaking her head in exasperation.

The British driver's eyes were sparkling with a playful mirth as she cackled at her own innuendo "it's hard being the entertainment Elle."

Even though she let out what was definitely an over-exaggerated sigh, there was a small smile tugging at the corners of Stella's lips. "I swear, I should know better than to let you anywhere near a conversation," she muttered, though there was a fondness in her tone that laced her words.

Settling back into their conversation, Daisy came to the realisation that they were up in the air now and she had been blissfully unaware of that for the last few minutes. Her little banter with Stella serving as a welcome distraction. And if the concealed smug look Stella shot her was anything to go by, she definitely did it on purpose. Maybe she could get through this flight easier than normal.

Press conferences were without a doubt the bane of Daisy's life, they were the one part of her job that she wished she could do away with. It was all a big game at the end of the day, sit there with masterfully crafted PR answers to make herself appear 'marketable' to draw more feminine brands towards the sport all while biting her tongue figuratively and literally which was easier said than done with some questions that had been directed her way. She despised dealing with the media and unfortunately she wasn't someone who could slip quietly under the radar and avoid constant questions since her mere inclusion in the sport and on the grid was a continuous source of debate and novelty to some.

Sitting amongst four of her fellow drivers in the press conference room which admittedly she'd been bribed by Stella to attend in exchange for a few hours alone time that evening where she could just rot in bed without having to interact with anyone and recharge for the following day.

She could feel all the eyes in the room trained on her as she braced herself for the barrage of questions that were sure to come her way. Daisy was all too aware that she would be the focal point of the discussion, her every word scrutinised and dissected by the press who were practically salivating at the mouth as they waited for her to slip up and make a comment that they could twist for profit.

As the press conference got underway Daisy couldn't shake the feeling of being under a microscope. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, steeling herself for the inevitable onslaught of questions. The room was filled with the murmurs of journalists eagerly waiting to pounce, their pens poised and cameras at the ready.

The moderator began with a general question directed at Lando as he was seated closest to him, but Daisy knew it was only a matter of time before the spotlight would be squarely on her.

The first question came from a reporter in the front row, their voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "Daisy, as the only female driver on the grid, how do you feel about racing in a country where women's rights are often a contentious issue?"

Straight to the hard hitting questions Daisy thought to herself. "It's certainly a unique experience," she was well accustomed to questions along these lines now with a year in formula 1 under her belt "but my focus this weekend remains on the race itself because ultimately I'm here to compete and perform to the best of my ability, regardless of where that is."

Following that she was immediately flagged down by another reporter towards the back of the room, their tone far more probing than the first "Given the cultural differences here Daisy, do you feel any added pressure or scrutiny as a female driver?"

Choosing her words carefully after a hesitant nod was sent her way from Stella, Daisy offered her best attempt at diplomacy "I think there's always going to be a level of scrutiny when you're breaking barriers, but no, I don't let it distract me from what I'm here to do, which at the end of the day is to race - not offer a political commentary."

The press conference progressed but Daisy couldn't shake the feeling of being singled out, her gender overshadowing her accomplishments on the track. Despite her best efforts to steer the conversation towards her performance and her team's prospects for the race, the questions continued to veer towards the topic of gender and equality.

Finally a decent question was put forward to the drivers which actually piqued her interest. Even more so when they directed it to her first. "Ms Shaw," a journalist nearer the back of the room began, their tone surprisingly earnest, "could you share your insights on the aerodynamic challenges posed by the unique layout of the Jeddah street circuit, and how you and your team are approaching them in terms of car setup and strategy?"

Daisy couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of discussing the intricacies of aerodynamics and car setup. She was a bit of a nerd when it came to the technical aspects of her car. In fact, she had always told herself that if she didn't make it into F1, she was going to go to college and study mechanical engineering. For once, she felt like she was being recognised for her expertise as a racing driver, rather than simply as a novelty or curiosity.

"Thank you for the question," Daisy replied, barely concealing the enthusiasm in her voice. "The Jeddah circuit presents some unique challenges in terms of aerodynamics, particularly with its high-speed corners and long straights. Maintaining a balance between downforce and straight-line speed is crucial here, as is finding the optimal setup to maximize grip and stability through the fast, sweeping corners. Our car is strong in that regard though and I have full faith in the team that we will be prepared and get some solid laps in tomorrow during practice."

She went on to delve into the technical details, discussing the nuances of wing angles, suspension settings, and tire compounds, drawing on her experience and expertise to provide a comprehensive analysis of the aerodynamic considerations at play. Maybe it was a little too detailed of an answer than what they were expecting but Daisy had more of an interest than most drivers when it came to the engineering and aerodynamics behind every aspect of her car.

As Daisy finished her eager and long-winded answer, she noticed a playful glint in the eyes of her fellow drivers. Alex Albon, seated beside her, couldn't contain a smirk, while Lando Norris exchanged amused glances with Yuki Tsunoda and Carlos Sainz.

"Well, Daisy, I think we've all just been given a crash course in aerodynamics," Lando quipped with a grin, earning chuckles from the others.

"Leave it to Daisy to turn a simple question into a technical thesis," Alex added, his tone light-hearted as he teased her gently.

Yuki leaned forward, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Maybe we should all start consulting Daisy for setup advice," he joked, eliciting laughter from the group.

Even Carlos couldn't resist joining in on the fun. "I think we've found my new race engineer," he quipped, playfully nudging Daisy's arm.

Daisy couldn't help but laugh along with them, her cheeks slightly maroon at being the centre of attention but at least it was in a more positive light this time. "I don't think any of you could afford my fee," Daisy let out a laugh "even though Ferrari definitely need me."

The press conference had ended shortly after that little segment and Daisy actually left it feeling more at ease than she typically did. Perhaps it was because her fellow drivers acknowledged and included her to a greater extent than she was used to. She was friendly with Alex mainly due to his girlfriend Lily who she absolutely adored hanging out with every time she was in the paddock and she had spoken to Yuki multiple times before. However the likes of Carlos and Lando were new additions. They seemed so unattainable to be friendly with but maybe that could change in the future.

In the crowd of media personnel she was greeted by the familiar sight of Stella, her bright smile a welcome sight for Daisy who couldn't help but return it as they linked up.

"Proud of me Elle?" Daisy wrapped an arm loosely around her shoulders pulling the taller girl in for a short side hug.

Giving her a playful nudge in return Stella spoke, her voice laced in amusement "Well done in there, Daze, I have to admit, I was half expecting you to blow up on a journalist or two but you handled yourself like a pro."

"It definitely wasn't easy in there but yeah, managed to keep my cool with some of those sexist pricks," she felt a sense of relief wash over her at Stella's approval and a biting satisfaction that she was getting the hang of holding her tongue just the right amount "I guess all the practice last year and you drilling it into me is finally paying off huh?"

Stella nodded in agreement, bearing a proud expression "it might have driven both of us insane but you're a natural now. Just keep it up and they'll start to get bored with your answers and not getting any comments to twist and we'll be golden."

Saluting her friend mockingly Daisy retorted a teasing "yes boss," before asking Stella if she wanted a lift back to the hotel.

[thomasschabot]

saw you in a dream

quinn hughes x non-binary!oc (she/they pronouns)

they were simply a figment of quinn’s imagination, until she wasn’t

word count: 3.3k

warnings: vivid dreams, cursing, not soulmates!au but kinda soulmates!au without being weird

a/n: hi @puckmaidens!!! it’s me, your fic exchange partner. really hope you enjoy this little ditty 🤍 original idea didn’t go as planned but i’m crossing my fingers this will suffice. a very large thanks goes out to @wyattjohnston​ for creating and managing yet another super successful fic exchange AND for letting me borrow daisy for a fun little moment!!! hats off to you dem. @matthewtkachuk​ gets a big shout out for proofing this love u babe (also as a reminder non-binary people don’t owe anyone androgyny! or anything for that matter. all my little enby babies you’re perfect as is 🥰)

⭑⭒⭑

They were laughing the first time Quinn saw them. 

It was the head tilted back, mouth agape kind of laugh, and it was the most beautiful thing the man had ever seen. Quinn couldn’t tell if any sound was coming from the prettily parted lips, but he also didn’t care. Just watching them was good enough, and if given the opportunity he’d do it for the rest of his life. Fate isn’t that kind, however, so Quinn resigns himself to the idea that this perfect person will have to reside in his memory. There was a split moment where kind eyes met his own guarded ones, and Quinn felt the world stop spinning for a millisecond. Every single feeling, look, thought, was heightened when they smiled and raised their glass in a silent toast, prompting him to follow the lead with a tentative look on his face. A split second later they were gone, pulled onto the dancefloor with friends to enjoy the long night ahead. Once sure they weren’t coming back, and didn't want to actually say hello in the way he so desperately wanted, Quinn closed out his tab with a sigh of defeat and exited the club, kicking himself the entire way home for not having any courage.

⭑⭒⭑

An alarm startles Quinn awake. It’s Sunday, supposedly a rare day of rest for the team, but he needs to put some time into the gym and bulk up ten pounds as fast as possible. The Canucks have been playing well enough, but the team is still below five hundred and has a tough second half of the season ahead. Quinn could stand to be more of a physical force to be reckoned with. He’s so focussed on the goals to complete during the day that it takes several moments to realize there had been no mysterious yet beautiful person at a nightclub last night. In fact, there hadn’t been a club at all — just his cold sheets and the same sadness that’s permeated Quinn’s house for years. 

The realization knocks all the air from his lungs. Quinn could swear up and down that he had seen them with his own two eyes, and tasted the whisky they’d sipped while maintaining eye contact. It was all such a vivid image that he has a hard time reconciling the knowledge it was all fake with how he woke up feeling. It was real to him. Brock would undoubtedly shake his head and rattle off a few statistics about the probability of meeting those found in one’s dreams, ever the pessimist about love and fate, but luckily he isn’t there as Quinn moves sluggishly about, trying desperately to remember everything about the person with kind eyes and the brightest smile he’s ever encountered. 

Quinn doesn’t even get both feet onto the turfed outer surface of the gym before a trainer finds him. “Hughes,” he says, syllables tense and over-punctuated in a way they appear only when ownership gets antsy about poor results. “I need you working today until it feels like you’re about to drop dead.”

“You got it,” Quinn sighs, feeling guilty for contributing to the man’s stress simply because he can’t maintain his weight. Being a franchise player at such a young age, Quinn feels pressure to make things as easy on the staff as possible.

Teammates are scattered about the levels of the facility, each working on their own weaknesses — it’s becoming more apparent to Quinn that no one in the Canucks organization understands the term rest day. Nils is hunched over on the floor doing an intricate warm up stretch routine, clearly in the same boat as him, and it makes Quinn feel a bit better. He doesn’t look up, just raises a hand in silent greeting, and the other man chuckles before pushing back the slight waves he hadn’t bothered to tame in the bathroom mirror and getting to work. 

Time flies by at a record pace, and an hour and half later Quinn has put in one of the most intense workouts of his professional career. It seems stupid to leave when so many of his teammates are still working, so he finishes a cool down and wordlessly stands behind Nils to spot. Neither of them acknowledge the favour Quinn is doing him, but it doesn’t matter. Just knowing he’s done something to make someone’s life easier is enough. Despite the intentions of making the work easier, Quinn lags behind, taking a few too many breaks to think about the person from his dream and how much he’d like to kiss them, to cherish them.

Always a fast dresser, he waits until his friend is heading down the stairs from the change room to tug the long discarded backpack over his shoulders and lowers the baseball cap onto his head. Quinn holds the door and emits quiet laughter as Nils recounts a recent failed attempt at romance. 

“You were a little spacey today, everything okay?”

It’s not so much a question as it is a prompt to spill his thoughts, and Quinn knows it. Nils Höglander may be a lot of things, including a dear friend, but subtle is not one of them. A breath filters through his nose and fills Quinn’s lungs with air that both calms and accelerates his heart rate. “It’s nothing. Just a dream I’m having a hard time shaking.”

“Was she cute?” This time it’s a leading question, one Nils has a sinking suspicion his friend will answer despite not really wanting to.

“Focus on your own love life first,” Quinn grumbles, picking at a thread on the hem of his sweater. A pause, then, “They were extremely cute.”

Nils quirks his eyebrow. Blushing slightly, Quinn continues. “I don’t know their pronouns, so I don’t want to assume anything. Plus, it’s not like they’re even real.”

“Always the gentleman, Quinner.”

The pair of men separate in the parking lot, walking to their respective vehicles with chants of genuine happiness at seeing each other in less than twenty-four hours. Nils swears up and down he won’t tell anyone else about the fascination with the dream person, but Quinn knows it’s bullshit. His friend has never been good at keeping his mouth shut, and the Canucks are like a tight knit family. Everyone will always know each other’s business.

⭒⭑⭒

They shouldn’t be there. 

The last time Quinn saw them, they had been in a dive in Vancouver, but now they’re  standing in line at a farmer’s market thirty-five miles outside Pittsburgh. Logically, Quinn understands that it was a dream, that the two of them could be transported anywhere occupying space in his brain, but this place specifically is sacred. It’s his safe space, discovered once on a solo road trip home from Michigan, has never appeared in dreams before, and Quinn wasn’t sure what to do about the intrusion. Their presence wasn’t necessarily unwelcome, just foreign. In fact Quinn was quite sure he’d like the person to be in every dreamscape if it meant he got to experience them over and over again.

A dainty red ribbon held their hair into its makeshift ponytail, but the locks threatened to spill out at any moment. They looked absolutely ethereal, denim overshirt blowing in the wind and legs encased by a pair of practical hiking sandals. Everything about them was easy and carefree — Quinn knew he had to experience the sunshine they cast at least once. A tote bag dangled from their forearm, encasing a plethora of apples that was undoubtedly too many for one person to eat alone. There was no one in line behind them, so without thinking Quinn grabbed the nearest item of produce and made sure to stand at a respectable but still close distance. Their hair smelled faintly of lemon and basil, and it took a godly amount of strength for Quinn to pull away once he caught a whiff. At the very last second the magical human with the red ribbon turned their head and caught the hockey player in the act. 

If they had been put off by Quinn’s interest in learning intimately what shampoo combination made the smell, they never mentioned it. “Aren't those the best this time of year?” they asked with a whimsical lilt. Damnit, even their voice felt like it wasn’t made for this world, but a mythical plane above it.

“Uh —” Quinn sputtered, unsure of what he was holding. A glance down proves he’d chosen to buy strawberries, the only fruit he was allergic to. “I wouldn’t know. Just stopping by on the way back home. I was out this way on business.”

“Well then, you picked the right time to visit. Late summer brings the best yield of strawberries, in my unprofessional opinion.” Their smile could have rivaled the sun at high noon, it was that bright and blinding, and Quinn was absolutely enamored. Before he could respond, however, the line lurched forward and the market attendant called the other person forward. “Enjoy them,” they said sincerely, and Quinn offered a thumbs up in response. 

With their back to the brunette and preoccupied with a conversation about the weather, Quinn knew he wouldn’t have gotten caught for leaving without the strawberries. Carefully he put them back on the table and walked in the opposite direction. At least this time he had been able to start a conversation. 

⭑⭒⭑

The hissing of air brakes jostles Quinn awake, and he opens his eyes to see the back entrance of the arena. Bus rides from hotels to rinks are incredibly short, but somehow the man managed to get a few moments of unconsciousness. Just enough to dream about the mystery person and wake with more questions that will forever go unanswered. Who are they? Why do they keep appearing in his dreams? Does repetition in dreams really mean anything? Quinn will have to remember to send a text to Jack’s girlfriend Daisy, since she knows about those sorts of things. 

Teammates shuffle off the bus in front of him, and Quinn quickly follows them, hoping not to seem too out of sorts even though his mind is swimming. Andi, one of the team’s photographers, is standing between the bus and the entrance to the rink, snapping away and making silly faces to make some other guys laugh, knowing that those sorts of candids bring more engagement for the team. 

“A-dog,” Quinn chirps, trying to seem chipper. “No pics of me today, please? After work beers on me if you say yes.”

Andi tilts her head in confusion but doesn’t probe. “You got it, boss. I want the best Guiness your expensive contract can buy.”

“Anything for you. I owe you big time. Thanks!”

Quinn quickly embraces the photographer and darts inside the building, knowing that not everyone will be as understanding as Andi. Normally he’s game to play the role of the Canucks’s social media darling, but tonight Quinn has enough to worry about without being followed around and scrutinized. 

Each professional hockey player has a different pre-game warmup routine, despite the game being a team sport. He’s always been one to do his own thing, only rarely joining in the games of two-touch, so no one blinks an eye at Quinn heading in the opposite direction of most of the guys. Nils gives him a quizzical look, mischievous glint in his eye, but before he can ask any questions Quinn turns the corner and takes the first flight of stairs he sees. 

Before he can think too much about the teasing that will inevitably come from the New Jersey contingent of the Hughes family, Quinn pulls out his phone and sends the text to Daisy. 

Not even going to bother to tell you to keep this a secret because you suck! I’ve had an unknown person appear in some dreams lately, and since you’re into all that manifestation shit I thought I’d ask if it means anything. Also, tell Jack and Luke I hope they lose tonight. 

The device slips into the pocket of his shorts and settles into a position that hopefully won’t allow it to fall out during his jog around the depths of the arena. Quinn doesn’t like to run with headphones, instead choosing to focus on his breathing. It’s an odd quirk, he knows, but relentless teasing from teammates has never stopped him before. He likes the ritual and knows it will probably continue long after he retires from playing professionally. 

Quinn rounds the corner, braces himself for a high sprint, and runs directly into someone instead of meeting a clear hallway. He isn’t the speediest on the team by far, but Quinn is fit enough that even his entry into a sprint could knock over an unsuspecting person, whom this clearly was. They fall to the ground, the momentum of an adult’s body weight and shock making it a hard one. In order to prevent more injury by landing on top of them, Quinn propels himself forward and turns mid-air in a quasi-front flip that he’s sure looked just as stupid as it felt.

“What the fuck, man?”

The voice, even in anger and resentment, is warm and welcoming. Quinn thinks the person has never been cold-hearted, not like him, and it befuddles him until he looks to see who his unsuspecting victim was. 

It’s them.

From the dreams. 

Standing right in front of him, looking for an explanation as to why they were knocked onto the ground with the ferocity of a barely-legal bodycheck. “Uh, sorry, didn’t see you there,” Quinn sputters, utterly failing to suppress his astonishment. 

A dry laugh, verging between a chuckle and a cackle, spills from their lips. “No shit. Help me up?”

Quinn wastes no time extending an arm and hauling them off the floor. He notices a lanyard sporting an official arena badge. ‘Logan Haynes (she/they), Public Relations’ is written in neat serif script, along with a picture of her wearing a bright smile. Trying to not be obvious, he gives her a once over, telling himself it’s just to make sure he isn’t hallucinating but really it’s because Quinn wants to get a better look. He isn’t as sly as he hoped because her voice once again comes into focus. 

“Do you have a habit of injuring arena staff and then checking them out, Hughes?” Logan asks, cocking their head just enough to let Quinn know the comment is mostly in jest. 

He isn’t surprised they know his name, especially if they work in sports. Still, he stammers an answer nervously. “Actually, no. This is my first time.”

“So you were checking me out?”

“I plead the fifth.”

This time a real laugh tumbles out, a hearty one with warmth of a sun-kissed afternoon and Quinn decides in that moment he will do whatever he can to hear that sound for the rest of his life. Neither of them make a move to go their separate ways, nor do they speak. Time stands still, but not in the awkward way that Quinn is accustomed to. It’s all-consuming, how sanguine the moment feels, how things almost audibly clicked into place when he saw Logan. Never one to believe in fairy-tales or the mushy feelings Jack and Daisy describe, Quinn finally gets it. 

“Uh, this is really weird, and I swear I don’t normally do this,” he begins, “But can I get your number?”

Logan smiles, almost devilishly, and Quinn is scared for a moment. “So I can send you the bill for my physical therapy? I think I might have seriously pulled a muscle.”

“Whatever you want.” The grin on Quinn’s cheeks makes them ache but he doesn’t care. He extends his open phone and they enter a sequence of digits Quinn decides to commit to memory. With nothing else to do the pair return to their original paths, and Quinn can only hope they want to see him again.

⭒⭑⭒

The game and subsequent activities pass by in a blur. Quinn was attentive, always on the puck and converting turnovers into scoring opportunities, but Logan was the only thing on his mind. The chances of her being real, of being in the same vicinity as him and getting the chance to meet is too serendipitous even for him. He gets knocked around more than usual due to his wandering mind, leading to some questioning looks from teammates and staff members. As soon as he can, Quinn is looking through the arena to find Logan, let them know he wants more than to pay for potential recovery from the injury that he caused, but he can’t find her. 

Dejected, he goes back to the bus. Quinn is a quick undresser and prefers to unwind at home or the hotel, so despite his detour he isn’t the last one on the bus. The win doesn’t matter much to him, too in his own head about Logan to care, so Quinn chooses to decline any and all invitations to celebrate with his teammates. He just wants to have a second shower and debate whether or not to text her. 

A gentle buzz comes from the inside of Quinn’s suit jacket, and he pulls out his phone with suspicious speed. The guys around him pay no attention, engrossed in their own phones or suspecting Quinn of hitting up someone on his roster like so many others were doing. He hopes it’s Logan, but then realizes that would be impossible seeing as the exchange was strictly one sided. It’s Daisy, finally answering his message from hours earlier. 

Nice to hear from you, Quinny! So glad you only reach out when you want my extra-special opinion on ur love life. Could mean nothing, or could mean you’re bound to meet the mystery person soon. Devs won 6-2, suck it. See you next week!!

Quinn thinks that if Daisy knew the events that transpired tonight she’d call it fate, especially given her text, so in order to keep his brothers from finding out and using the situation as teasing material he doesn’t respond. Instead, he opens the contacts app and scrolls until he finds the number he’s looking for. 

Still at the back of the bus, his fingers shake as Quinn types out a message.

Hi. It’s Quinn. Hughes. Ready to pay for all of your up front and continuing medical costs.

He hits send, then continues typing. 

I’m extremely sorry for earlier tonight, and just realized I never actually apologized. That wasn’t cool of me. I hope you’re okay. 

Before he can overthink it even more, Quinn keeps going. 

This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous and insane, but I swear I’ve seen you in a bunch of my dreams lately. Crazy, isn’t it?

Not wanting to sit and wait around for his potential embarrassment at his own hands, Quinn closes his eyes. However, he’s hyper aware of the rectangle in his pocket that feels more like a brick than anything. Sleep does not overcome him, just anxious thoughts, and he thinks he might explode if Logan doesn’t respond. No one will ever know except him, but the crushing weight of rejection and dismissal will sting for a long time. Quinn has never been one to put himself out in public this way, and if it blows up in his face on the first try he isn’t sure he’ll have the confidence to try again. 

One single vibration hits right below his breastbone. It takes Quinn a moment to realize it isn’t his rapidly beating heart, but instead his dreaded cell phone. A message appears on the lockscreen under the heading he’s been yearning for. When he opens it, Quinn sees four words that might just change his life forever. 

I’ve seen you too. 

⭑⭒⭑

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3

[aventvrina]

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐓𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒? — It's all of my current ships, I'm not even joking when I say that they do live rent free in my head even if i take forever to write them out. I do have a few ships i am more inclined to, but over all I love all of them since it's often the result of the person i'm interacting with making me love the character they portray. Such has been the case with all of my current ships and even the ones that are still on a planning or building up stage.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆? — the no no's are obvious. No incest, pedophilia, transphobia, racism, etc. I should also add anything adjacent to tones of master/slave for more than obvious reasons.

As for the rest, I'm mostly comfortable with anything so I'm not very squeamish besides those hard no's. However I will draw a line should I see that my character is being disrespected without prior consent or discussion with me. I am someone that does like spontaneity as I feel that it's easier to let the characters roll than to have everything planned to a detail, but there are limits to what that may entail. A small heads up is enough for me, or at least asking if it's ok. Other than that, like i said, I am very chill and open to various scenarios & relationships, they don't have all to entail positive feelings.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐘? — I guess it depends? For me as long as the characters are all legal consenting adults it's fine, specially when in relation towards immortal characters since it's bound to have massive age gaps. However I do feel a bit of an ick if the character is barely an adult, so i'd say if the character is 20 up is ok.

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆? — Kind of? I am selective in a way that all of my current ships are because i specifically reached out to the person and talked about it. So in that way, I am picky.

However I am open to ship should anyone reach out to me. But it does entail a lot of communication with us ooc for me to be comfortable with you enough to consider it. Also a lot of back and forth since you'll have to paint the picture for me to see in a sense. But don't worry cause most of the time I do enjoy bouncing off those ideas and tend to accept them. If it happens that i'm not feeling it, I also don't have a problem explaining it and just creating a whole new dynamic for the interaction to still happen (not everything needs to be a ship).

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖? — Clothes go off and it's under a read more. Though, heavy suggestive description may also fall into this category since reactions are indicators of it (or a very good prank looking at you daisy with your sunday read mores)

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇? — My friend I am someone that is so easily sold that I can even ship Aven with a lamp and it'd be romantic af. But seriously, I don't exactly have any preference since I do believe that anything is possible with a lil bit of plotting. With that said though, you can't assume my portrayal of Aventurine as an invitation for auto ship (With this I mean, immediately assume Aven is into your character just cause he flirts or is hugely shipped with within the fandom). I don't do that, you still have to convince me that you're here for what I have to offer rather than your idea of my character.

Other than that, i do tend to enjoy the most shipping with ocs/crossovers since it has more freedom as it's not heavily constricted to lore and i can indulge in my writing partners ideas freely. (kissing the big juicy brains of the oc's muns im currently interacting with and following. you guys are amazing i love seeing your creativity flow.) But even then, if there's a will, there's a way, so as long as our characters have chemistry and we're both having fun, we gucci.

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔? — yes please ! i'm not a mind reader, so if you feel that you want to ship with me just nudge me and we'll see how it goes.

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏? — i love shipping, it's one of the quickest and most fun ways to flesh out a character because it's one of the most intimate way to explore them when facing the subject of love. However, I also really like to explore other forms of love, like platonic, familial, friend, and although those aren't considered "ships" in a common sense but they are for me!

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏? — Yes! Unless my partners ask me for exclusivity for their character, I have a limit of shipping with at least 2 of the same character since not everyone's portrayals are the same and they will have different dynamics (cause i refuse to write the same flavor twice).

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 - 𝐎𝐑 - 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒? — I'd say more or less. I do suffer from obvious ship brainrot but over all i have more fun planning out other stuff than just ship.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌? — Looks at my icon i mean... it's a dead give away since i am matching. Sorry but Avenday does have supremacy i won't hide that. I am playing favoritism here but if i am writing Aventurine it's because of Pandora, and even if we didn't start with plans to ship at all it has become very important to me. But like i've said, i do genuinely love all my current ships. Even if i'm not actively writing some of them at the moment, they still are very special to me.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔? — Just ask. It's mostly just that. I'm a very low maintenance shipping partner. I don't need constant reassurance or to be talking 24/7 or writing the ship all the time for me to still enjoy it (cause trust me i have no qualms speaking my mind if i dislike something) but i do understand that not everyone rolls that way.

As long as people are honest and talk, everything is ok. But do let me know if anything is uncomfortable or if there's no longer a feel for it. I'm not unreasonable, and i understand that sometimes it just doesn't happen and it's ok. As long as we can still talk after, we can plot something else and keep it rolling, ship or no ship.

At the end of the day we're all here to have fun.

tagged by : @lumoire <3

tagging : @fctedivided , @wolfkcst , @shrineofprophecy , @hubofhellfire, @eternalbxtterfly & you!!!

[mercurygray]

OC MOODBOARD TAG GAME!

Was tagged by @latibvles, because she's an enabler and she enables. I did Cord for this one, because I need to do more for her.

Pick an OC (or two) and fill out this moodboard template —

oc: Cordelia Callaway, here being played by Ruby Ashbourne Serkis animal: Cooper's Hawk, native to the midwest and a silent and sometimes reckless flyer. place: Wright-Patterson Air Field plant: Daisies. season: Summer - air show season! hobby: Bicycle tours of Norfolk color: Viridian Green - halfway between green grass and blue sky crystal: Blue Aventurine, a stone for self-discipline and awareness food: A very large stack of pancakes from the Green Mill at the Dayton Arcade, preferably on a Sunday morning, preferably with her dad.

I think everyone I usually tag in this has already been tagged, so - this is for you, dear reader!

[self-indulgent-paw-patrol]

Paw Patrol Appreciation Week 2024

Sunday - Free Day

Late as heck because I got sick XD But now here it is! For my Free Theme day, I decided to make an OC - I have been thinking about it since before, actually, just hadn't stopped to work on it until now.

OC info under the cut! Bonus pic of a very younger me and the real life dog who inspired me to create this OC! XD

This pup's name is Penny, she's a Labrador and Dalmatian mix (she's also Zuma's sister because I said so) and she's a Psychiatric Service Pup! Her owner Daisy has anxiety and sometimes panic attacks, so Penny is trained to act when it happens!

She prevents accidental self-harm, applies body pressure for comfort and fetches medication, water and stimming toys for Daisy. She knows how to use the tablet to make phone calls for help and has a list of who to call in cases of emergency. Penny also goes on duty mode whenever they go out, by preserving her owner’s personal space by placing herself between her and other people, guiding her away from crowds and finding quiet places to cool down when Daisy’s getting stressed or overstimulated.

Penny is cheerful, curious, playful and loves to help with anything she can. She's very proud of her bro for being a member of the Paw Patrol (with the coolest job in her opinion XD) and was more than happy when she got the news after completing her training that her future owner lived over there in Adventure Bay, meaning she would be closer to her brother again!

After becoming acquainted with the town and befriending Ryder and the other Pups, she also got a Pup-pack from Ryder, with things that would be useful to have with her when she needs to help Daisy in situations.

Now for the real life dog who served as inspiration, her name was Radija and she was the most absolute mutt ever XD Her previous owner before me abused her, but in the end she was given away to me and that's when she was the happiest dog ever! I swear it was like she was always smiling, always wagging her tail, always playing around. She had two litters while living with me and unfortunately she didn't die of old age, but I know one of her puppies who's still alive to this day, but veeeeery old and nearly completely deaf by now XD

Radija was one of my very best friends ever, followed me to High school every day and would be there waiting for me at the time I'd be let free to go home. She knew when I was sick or feeling down and would be there to cheer me up. She once fought off a Pitbull that was let loose on the street while I was playing hide and seek with my friends and the pitbull came straight for me. The moment she saw I had escaped safely back home, she ran back home too, mostly unharmed. The day she gave birth to her last puppies while I was in school, when I came back home she took them one by one from her bed to place them on my lap and seemed so proud showing them to me, it was so cute I was crying, she was so happy XD

I was having a hard time coming up with a job for my Paw Patrol OC, but when I think of how Radija was always there for me, it all clicked together. My OC would be the same, a supportive pup, so I did some quick research on service dogs for anxiety and now here's Penny in all her black and white glory!

[mysticstarlightduck]

Extra 2.0 OC Favorites!

Let's go with Liam Steele, Erin Niemand, and Savvanah Hahn from What Lurks In The Hollow!

Rules: share photos of your OCs' favorite color, season, shoe choice, weapon, food & drink, clothing style, mode of transportation, animal, pastime, and breakfast and if they're an introvert/ambivert/extrovert then change up any one of the five favorite things categories for the next round. BONUS: Add some music/songs that fit their aesthetic (the songs don't have to be their favorite songs, just fit their vibe)!

Liam Steele

Color: Denim Blue

Season: Early Summer

Shoe Choice: Red Ankle Converse

Weapons: His own fists (a.k.a. punching, getting into brawls)

Food: Shepherd's Pie with Extra Cheese

Drink: Hot Chocolate & Marshmallow

Style: Ripped denim vests with DIY patches with short-sleeved white shirts, gray pants and charm bracelets.

Mode of Transportation: His late 60s/70s Mustang he got from his uncle on his 16th birthday

Animal: French Bulldogs (especially his Uncle's two bulldogs, Daisy and Sally)

Pastime: Gaming at home OR going to the arcade with his girlfriend, Savvy.

Breakfast: Pancakes/Crèpes with Butter and Sweet Cream

Personality: Introvert (and has social anxiety & ADHD)

Songs:

Break Stuff - Limp Bizkit

overwhelmed - Royal & The Serpent

King For A Day - Pierce The Veil

Raging On A Sunday - Bohnes

So Far Away - Staind

Savvanah "Savvy" Hahn

Color: Lavender purple

Season: Autumn

Shoe Choice: Worn-out blue converse with neon beads

Weapon: Kickboxing/street-fighting

Food: Simple hot-dogs with ketchup and mustard

Drink: Strawberry Cream Soda

Style: Stripped long-sleeved shirts with dark (usually grey or purple) T-Shirts on top, as well as ripped jeans.

Mode of Transportation: Driving around with Liam, but she also uses her bicycle a lot

Animal: Cats and birds, especially chickens.

Pastime: GOING TO THE ARCADE

Breakfast: Thick pancakes with strawberry syrup

Personality: Ambivert

Songs:

Don't Fear The Reaper - PI3RCE

You've Created a Monster - Bohnes

Dancing With Your Ghost - Sasha Alex Sloan

Unsaid Emily - Julie & The Phantoms

Sick Thoughts - Lou Bliss

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @wyked-ao3, @topazadine @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@cherrychiplip @thecomfywriter @thelovelymachinery

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

[ohhey1293]

Like We Never Loved at All ⇢ (5) ▲ Jake Kiszka x OC - 1970s AU ▲ ・ Word Count:  2811・ ● Warning: cursing, physical abuse, smoking, drinking. ●       ■ Taglist available ■  Author’s note: Hello again! It’s so good to finally be back and writing this fic again. I’ve been watching Daisy Jones and The Six and it gave me the motivation to get back on the Jake and Cate horse again. I hope those of you that read this story in the past will pick up where you left off and love it just as much as I am again. This chapter is a little slow - more Cate and Henry than Jake, but you never know when he’ll appear. I just want to thank those that have read this story! I really appreciate it :)             ✕ Disclaimer: This is purely fiction. This is in no way associated with                                                 Jake or the band. ✕

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

“So, my mother was thinking of having the ladies at her church make the food for the reception. She also wants to come with you when you pick out the venue.”

I stared out the window as the scenery passed by. I had been back in Tennessee for almost a week, finally greeting a very pissed off Henry at the airport days later than I was supposed to. My trysts with Jake lasted two days – only leaving the room to get something to eat. We both knew it was a horrible idea but we couldn’t stop. I would lay next to him while he slept, my brain telling me to finally pull my clothes on and get the hell out of there. Even when he was deep inside of me, I knew it was a huge mistake but I never said no. My heart argued with my brain, winning the battle at the end.

“Sweetheart?”

I turned my head, looking over at my smiling fiancé. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Trying my best to sound somewhat chipper. His eyes glossed over with concern but his smile stayed firm.

“You okay?” He finally asked. “Haven’t been your usual self since you got back.” I nodded my head, assuring him that it was just jetlag and not getting enough sleep. “A nice, relaxing vacation is what you really need. You know my family’s got that hou-“

“I don’t need a vacation.” His expression changing drastically at my interruption. “Thank you though.” I patted his leg, my eyes still trained on the road in front of us. His whole demeanor changed at that moment – his body stiff and his face stoic. The meeting with the wedding planner was uncomfortable to say the least. He would only make sounds when asked of his opinion causing my blood to start boiling. He could be rude and hateful to me but she didn’t deserve his attitude. After the meeting, he had to run over to his parent’s house as usual – the annual Sunday meal with the in-laws was always a favorite of mine…(Hint the sarcasm).

He didn’t bother waiting as I exited the car, choosing to make his way into the large home without me. I stayed seated in the car for a moment, a sigh escaping past my painted lips as tears formed. “Just breath.” I spoke to myself. It was my fault that he was acting this way – I pissed him off – He had a right to be angry. I pulled my pocket mirror, checking my makeup before exiting the car. It was evident that it wouldn’t be just Henry and I at dinner tonight seeing as there were three extra cars crammed into the driveway. I pushed open the heavy doors, greeting one of the housekeepers with a smile as I slowly walked into the living room. I could hear the low tone of Henry’s father speaking the guest laughed at his words. Henry sat next to his mother, nursing a glass of bourbon as he paid attention to his look-alike father.

“Looks like Catherine decided to finally join us.” Richard, Henry’s father spoke with a snide look. The other’s, include Henry and his mother, turned in my direction. “Care to take a seat, darling.” It was more of a demand rather than a question. I nodded my head slightly, taking a seat on the edge next to Henry. He remained silent – placing his right hand on my thigh as he continued to listen to his father’s stories. I could feel the glances of those around, including his mother, Nancy. Richard and Nancy were always cordial but you could tell I was not the one they wanted their only son to settle down with. They knew I was a musician and I’m sure at this point they were aware of my past. They wanted Henry to settle with a girl that was – well- lets just say grounded if you will. I was a musician – I would go on tour or have to go to different places to appear on TV. They didn’t want that for Henry and as the years ticked on, I could tell Henry was starting to listen to them.  I was supposed to stay home and care for the house and more importantly Henry. Nancy wanted me to be a doting wife – one that listened to Henry and would bow down to his every whim and need. She was the picture-perfect wife – a June Cleaver in a way. Her hair and clothing were always pressed and perfect. She never wore the same outfit twice. When Richard would return home from work or the country club, she was there to greet him with a glass of scotch and dinner being prepared in the kitchen. When going to outings at the church or the club, she was the woman that the other women surrounded – it was her approval they all wanted.

“Smells like dinner is about ready – shall we make our way to the dining room?” Richard smiled as they guest rose from their seats. I watched as he made small talk with them as they passed, his smile slightly dropping as Henry and I approached. “Nancy, why don’t you show Henry that gift you were talking about the other day.” Henry looked at his dad confused. “I need to have a little chat with Cate for a moment.” I was taken back as Henry walked away, not even daring to look back to make sure I was okay. Richard waited until Nancy and Henry were out of the room before slowly turning back, his face expressionless.

“Heard it was quiet the time while the two of you were away.” His voice neutral. “Henry said something about an ex-boyfriend being there?” I pulled at my dress. “Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing pretend and settle into the role of dedicating yourself to my son and his future.”

I stared into his light eyes, a scoff slipping past my lips. “Pretend?” I crossed my arms defiantly. “My career is not pretend and your son is well aware of that. He knew what he was getting into when we met – you and your wife seem to be the ones with the problem.” From his glowing eyes, I could tell that he wasn’t prepared for me to answer back in this manner. “I may be Henry’s fiancé but I wasn’t put on this earth to dedicate myself to him or his future. I bow down to no man – including you, Richard.”

I brushed past him as I followed where the others had walked before. He stayed missing for a moment before joining everyone, acting as if our conversation never happened. I took a seat next to Henry, his second glass of bourbon that I’ve seen sitting in front of him. He spoke with a young couple, smiling and laughing at their words. The awkward feeling enveloped me again as I sat there, ignored by those around.

“Hope everyone is hungry!” Nancy spoke as she walked into the room. The chef followed behind; a large portion of meat spread on a silver platter. She took a seat next to Richard, rubbing his hand as she looked around the table. Her eyes finally landing on me, quickly looking away once we our sites connected. The hired help started dishing out the plates, everyone getting a piece of meat and two vegetables. I quietly thanked the woman as she passed me the plate, the only one to do so in fact. Everyone made idle chit chat as they ate. Henry’s body turned slightly from mine as he spoke to those next to him, laughing in between chews. I was left on my own little island – stranded with my overcooked pork and tasteless sides.

“So, Cate-“ My head perked up at the sound of my name. A head of blonde hair and over-lined eyes stared back at me. “I understand that you are a musician? Top 40? Country?” She was the wife of Henry’s friend.

I wiped my mouth with the silk napkin, “Well, I started off as a top 40 act but I’m looking to go in a different direction now. Get with the sound of the times kind of stuff.”

Richard and Nancy slowly ate their meals, their attention focused on my new conversation. “Well, I was only asking because I never heard of your songs. Not to be rude or anything, but I never heard of you at all.” The girl continued. “I guess your music isn’t really what I gravitate towards.”  

Her remark was meant to be rude – meant to make a mockery of me in front of everyone. If she was trying to hurt me it wasn’t working. I’ve heard it all and after a while it just goes right through you. “Sorry to hear that.” I smiled. “I don’t really cater towards the spoiled population.” Her face, along with everyone else’s, fell at my words. “Maybe when I first started you would have liked the music – pink, soft, clean. You can’t remain the same girl after the things I’ve done – my music is evident of that and your kind would never understand.”

“And what is it that you have done, Catherine?” Richard inquired.

I locked eyes with him, “Well, that’s not important is it, Richard?”

The table turned silent as the master of the house and I glared at one another. I wasn’t backing down this time. I was done backing down to these people – I was tired of being someone that I wasn’t. I downed what was left of my wine, quickly pouring myself another glass.

“What about children? Wouldn’t you like to settle down and have children?” An older woman asked. “Surely when you and Henry are married, you’ll step away from that lifestyle and settle down and become a wife and mother.”

Henry and I hardly spoke about having children. It had come up in passing a handful of times but the subject was changed before we could go further. Of course, I wanted children – only when the time was right. It wasn’t right when I was a teenager and I don’t believe the time was right at this moment. Henry didn’t strike me as the loving father type. He was very similar to his own father. He cared about his business and that was his pride and joy.

“My music and career are my children.” I spoke truthfully. “They’ve been my babies since I was 16 years old. You write the songs and send them out to the world – hoping millions of strangers enjoy and love them just as much as you do. Frankly, I don’t believe that Henry and I are at the point to have a real child. Even if we were to get married tomorrow, bringing a baby into this relationship would only bring trouble.” Henry’s head whipped to the side; his eyes boring into my skin. “Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I need to quiet my job and stay home. I’m not cut out for the whole housewife routine. Frankly, the thought of cleaning and cooking all day for my husband is a bit repulsive. Henry’s a grown man – if he’s hungry, he knows how to work the oven – it wouldn’t be the first time…”

The ride back to the house was silent.

I would glance over during the drive, watching as Henry’s face fought with the anger that was coursing through his body, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. I decided to just stay quiet, not wanting to poke the bear and risk us being involved in an accident. As he parked the car in the driveway, he quickly removed himself from the vehicle, stomping up the stairs to our condo. I sat in the dark car, the only sound coming from the crickets in the dewy grass. I understood that my boost of confidence at the dinner was the reason for his sour attitude. I finally found the courage to standup to those people – telling them how I really feel instead of being the phony person I had been.

I slowly walked up the same steps, taking a breath before entering the home. Henry was nowhere to be found; his jacket thrown on the back of the couch. I removed my heels before walking up the steps to our shared bedroom, stopping once I saw Henry sitting on the bed, head in hands. I leaned against the doorframe, biting my lip nervously.

“I’m really not in the mood to even hear your voice right now, Catherine.” He spoke. His voice tired.

“Well-“ I paused. “I didn’t hear you coming to my defense when they were playing 20 fucking questions. I was just being honest.”

His head shot up, “Honest-“He rose from the bed. “Your fucking honestly was the joke of the evening!” I flinched at his raised voice. “You made me look like a fucking fool in front of everyone. Oh, Henry can just cook for himself- He’s done it many times. Henry can fend for himself – he’s a grown man.” He mimicked.

“You want me to fucking lie?” I pressed back. “I told them the fucking truth! I don’t want to be some little housewife who jumps as soon as you come home. I am my own person! Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean you own me, Henry Samuels. I’m not gonna be like your mother and her group of hens that sits at the country club and secretly daydreams about what their lives could have been. Fuck that shit!”

The searing pain of his hand meeting my cheek whipped my head to the side. My hand instantly touched the spot, tears welling up in my eyes as the pain intensified. I could hear as Henry stomped past me, the door to the guest room slamming behind him. This wasn’t the first time I had been hit by a man but it was the first time Henry had ever laid hands on me. 

I stood in the same spot for a number of minutes before my anger kicked in. His hit left a large red mark on my cheek – I winced as I did my best to try to cover it. I quickly changed out of my stuffy attire, slipping on a strappy, long dress with see-through material. I clipped back my hair, letting my bangs frame my puffy face. I didn’t even bother telling him where I was going – simply slamming the front door as I left. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew that I didn’t want to be anywhere near him at this point…

“Can I have another whiskey sour, please?”

I watched as the bartender began working on the drink – my fifth one of the night at this point. I drove around for an hour or two before walking into the rowdy establishment. It was right off the highway, mostly occupied by bikers and ruffians. It was definitely not the type of place where you would find Henry

“Thanks.” I muttered as he placed the glass in front of me. I had it finished within seconds, the warmth of the alcohol flooding my senses. I wasn’t drunk though. My tolerance for alcohol growing since my younger years – years of slamming back drink after drink – getting trashed and not even remembering what had happened the next day.

“Can I just have the bottle?”

I looked up from my drink, the voice sitting directly next to me causing my heart to speed up. His hair was pulled back, the same glasses as always perched over his eyes. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked.

He kept his head trained ahead, “Saw you split from your place in a hurry – figured you wanted to get drunk.” A small smirk formed on his face. “Trouble in paradise between you and the prince?”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname he had given Henry. “Just a disagreement is all.” I lied. I could see his eyes roll behind the glasses. “Why are you in Tennessee?”

He took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey, the liquid dripping from his chin down to his exposed chest. “There’s a beautiful girl – woman I know here.” His body turning towards mine. “From the looks of it-“His hand moving my hair away from my face, his fingers dancing on my exposed shoulder. “She’s secretly happy to see me.”

My breath hitched in my throat as my heart drummed against my chest. “We can’t do this, Jake.” My words barely audible. At this point our faces were inches apart – the intoxicating smell of alcohol, smoke, and that damn cologne flooding my senses.

“I know.” He pushed his sunglasses into his locks. Our eyes finally connecting – both sober and our senses intact. “But I can’t help myself.”

[sadhours]

blue sunday masterlist

billy hargrove x daisy way (oc)

chapter one

[monsterrae1]

Tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @hippolotamus @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @jesuisici33 @bekkachaos @exhuastedpigeon

shuffle your ON REPEAT playlist and list the first 10 song

Say don’t go (Taylor’s version)(from the vault), Taylor swift

Bound to you - burlesque soundtrack, Christina Aguilera

Demons, the wanted

Remembering Sunday, all time low

Hotel ceiling, Rixton

Get down on your knees and tell me you love me, all time low

Flightless bird, American mouth, iron & wine

Bad, James bay

Style (Taylor’s version), Taylor swift

Make you feel my love, Adele

your top 15 favorite tv shows can say a lot about your personality" (list your top 15 shows)

Supernatural

911

Teen wolf

The vampire diaries

Pushing daisies

Our flag means dead

Yellowjackets

The OC

Gossip girl

DC titans

School spirits

Greys anatomy

Private practice

Big time rush (it’s a comfort show leave me alone)

Queer eye

Tagging if they still haven’t done this and want to do it @brokenribsdiaz @buddierights @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @heartshapedvows @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @underwater-ninja-13 @elvensorceress @honestlydarkprincess @bigfootsmom and whoever else wants to do this!

[oc-poll-times]

The Ultimate OC Showdown Tournament has begun!

This was inspired by a lot of the tournaments in @competition-list including @transfemswagbracket @nonbiney-swag-competition @best-fnaf-character @autismswagsummit @robot-swag-competition @mad-scientist-showdown @adhdswagcompetition as well as the OC tournament done by @oc-cinematic-universe! I have over 600 of these guys, so it's finally time to figure out who the OC of all time is!

You do not need to know who they are to vote!

Their brackets will include a brief bio (one sentence), a link to their Toyhouse page, and an image! But also you can just vote on vibes, anything works! I just want to have a good time!

This post will be updated with each bracket and an updated bracket illustration each time! Polls will run for one week, and for this first round Part A and Part B will go up on Saturday and Sunday respectively! I hope we can all have a good time!

EDIT: I wanted to add more of the tournament blogs that inspired this since they're all excellent people and y'all should go vote in their tournaments as well!

Round 1A

Miranda (Carnival Casino) VS. George (Murder Mystery)

2. Cabriel (Love Gods) VS. Rouge (Bakeries)

3. Amadeus (Fantasy Story) VS. Freeze Frame (Villain Squad)

4. Nina (Whisper Court) VS. Kalliope (The Hallowed)

5. Phyllis (Villain School) VS. Adelaide (Locked Love)

6. Jinx (The Hallowed) VS. Cinna (The Hallowed)

7. Kisaragi (Whisper Court) VS. Ariyana (Angel Wings)

8. Angel (Angel Wings) VS. Zyaire (The Hallowed)

9. Wally (Villain School) VS. Mikal (Whisper Court)

10. Cordelia (Fantasy Story) VS. Catt (The Hallowed)

11. Xena (Fantasy Story) VS. Maple (Villain School)

12. Emmit (The Hallowed) VS. Abbey (Locked Love)

13. Wally (Whisper Court) VS. Glimmer (Red Signal)

14. Lorelai (Whisper Court) VS. Lily (Monster DND)

15. Willow Whisp (Whisper Court) VS. Ephraim (The Hallowed)

16. Lyra (Carnival Casino) VS. Castor (Love Gods)

Round 1B

Aurelius (Angel Wings) VS. Veridan (Whisper Court)

2. Ringmaster (Fantasy Story) VS. Darciel (Love Gods)

3. Wally (Locked Love) VS. Dusty+Coco (DND PC)

4. Johon (Whisper Court) VS. Velvet (Bakeries)

5. Khalida (Villain School) VS. Cinnamon (Murder Mystery)

6. Rose (Whisper Court) VS. Charlie (Villain School)

7. Mei/Yue/Eyumie (The Hallowed) VS. Phospher (Tech Story)

8. Irene (The Hallowed) VS. Hijack (Villain Squad)

9. Scarlet (Bakeries) VS. Evelyn (The Hallowed)

10. Ismet (The Hallowed) VS. Daisy (Daisies And Demons)

11. Finch (Whisper Court) VS. Kastra (Kastra-Verse)

12. Wally (The Hallowed) VS. Karma (Fantasy Story)

13. Blackjack (Fantasy Story) VS. Tripp (The Hallowed)

14. Meri (Locked Love) VS. Alice (Carnival Casino)

15. Lilith (Locked Love) VS. Cardamon (Fantasy Story)

16. Bella (Angel Wings) VS. Meredith/Nightingale (Artistic Licensing)

WOW. REALLY DECIMATING THE GROUP HERE. HOLY SHIT

Round 2

Miranda (Carnival Casino) VS. Rouge (Bakeries)

2. Amadeus (Fantasy Story) VS. Kalliope (The Hallowed)

3. Phyllis (Villain School) VS. Cinna (The Hallowed)

4. Kisaragi (Whisper Court) VS. Zyaire (The Hallowed)

5. Mikal (Whisper Court) VS. Cordelia (Fantasy Story)

6. Xena (Fantasy Story) VS. Emmit (The Hallowed)

7. Glimmer (Red Signal) VS. Lorelai (Whisper Court)

8. Willow Whisp (Whisper Court) VS. Castor (Love Gods)

9. Aurelius (Angel Wings) VS. Ringmaster (Fantasy Story)

10. Dusty + Coco (DND PC) VS. Velvet (Bakeries)

11. Cinnamon (Murder Mystery) VS. Rose (Whisper Court)

12. Mei/Yue/Eyumie (The Hallowed) VS. Irene (The Hallowed)

13. Evelyn (The Hallowed) VS. Ismet (The Hallowed)

14. Finch (Whisper Court) VS. Karma (Fantasy Story)

15. Blackjack (Fantasy Story) VS. Alice (Carnival Casino)

16. Cardamon (Fantasy Story) VS. Meredith/Nightingale (Artistic Licensing)

The rounds last time were SUPER CLOSE I am getting SCARED

Round 3

Miranda (Carnival Casino) VS. Amadeus Kama (Fantasy Story)

2. Cinna Hallowell (The Hallowed) VS. Kisaragi (Whisper Court)

3. Cordelia (Fantasy Story) VS. Xena (Fantasy Story)

4. Lorelai (Whisper Court) VS. Castor (Love Gods)

5. The Ringmaster (Fantasy Story) VS. Dusty + Coco (DND PC)

6. Cinnamon (Murder Mystery) VS. Irene (The Hallowed)

7. Evelyn Soleil (The Hallowed) VS. Finch (Whisper Court)

8. Blackjack (Fantasy Story) VS. Cardamon Suite (Fantasy Story)

[insomniac-jay]

DC OC | Jobs (Updated)

Billie Sunday | Faerie: Doctor

Jahzara Nwadike | Fatale: Lawyer

Vicia Lopez | Crimson: Trucker; Mechanic

Greynasha Wiley | Crypt: Chocolatier

Sophia Evangelista | Angeknight: Guidance counselor

Marietta Brooks | Glamor: Celebrity

Venus Parks | Star Sapphire: DJ

Daliah Yukimura | Snow: Professional figure skater; Personal trainer

Diandra Sykes | Virus: Info broker; Hacker

Flordelis Munoz: Botanist

Sasha Ray | Wavedancer: Video game tester

Elyon Morningstar | Pandora: Kindergarten teacher

Lilith Morningstar | Hex: Computer programmer

Brittney Foster | Hermia: Fashion columnist

Mona Lisa Beauvais | Monochrome: Singer-songwriter; artist; performer

Larissa Malone | Furiosa: Casino waitress

Tiana Baxter | Virtue: Pediatrician

Traci Baxter | Vice: Basketball coach

Solana Banks | Sol: Travel agent; Soccer coach

Yaretzi Tenoch | Emerald: Marine biologist

Emily Ngam | Witchbane: Cartoonist

Mel Ortega | Darkheart: Fashion designer

Daisy Hilliard | Paradisia: Ballet teacher

Will Vaughn | Allure: Tech developer

Sherri Moriarty | Emerald Ranger: Farmer

Bahira Haziz: Art history professor

Lourdes Desta Banderas | Madame Nightshade: Crime boss; businesswoman

Roxy Lee | Heavy Metalikka: Musician

Irina Watson: Photographer

Christine Chapel/Belle Holiday: Burlesque performer

[arcflashhazard]

Oc ask game grahhhh! I love azi they are so cute i love angel ocs !!!!! Tell me: orchid, daisy, jasmine, and marigold (pretty please :] )

💜💜💜

orchid: they dont like the dark daisy: a bit of dorian went into the inspo but besides that mitsuba from tbhk and silver wolf from hsr did as well. design wise a bit of sunday hsr and the grian design by the people behind ddvau

jasmine: xxxsexy-filing-cabinets