#they then run off into the sunset together and live happily ever after

[bloumiiss]

Running away together. ♪ヽ(´▽｀)/

[yandere--stuck]

would u ever write more for stanley.. its so dry out here.. stanation is suffering in a drought……….

You're so right, I'm so sorry, Stanation!!!!

---

🎱 Stanley's obsession for you manifests into rocketing between pitiful internal justification for his possessive feelings for you and deep, deep self-loathing and disgust with himself while trying to distance himself from you. Oh, and who could forget, Stanley allowing himself to indulge in fantasies of you returning his feelings and living out happily ever after together. Ha, like that'll ever happen! … But, a man can dream, can't he? Just nice, sappy, romantic stuff, you know? Cuddling together in bed, making the kids breakfast with sleep still in both your eyes, watching the sunset together on the porch, and scaring off any lousy creep that tries to take what's his with one of his many guns. In fact, he may already be doing that last one.

🎲 Talks a big game and acts like a tough guy around you, but it couldn't be further from the truth - at least when it comes to you. In reality, when Stan's around you, he feels one second away from breaking and acting like a lovesick puppy. He feels like a kid with a crush! He hasn't felt this way since he was a young man! It'd be embarrassing if it, if you, didn't make him so happy. He just feels lucky he hasn't turned into a babbling, blushing idiot in front of you or the kids. That's for when your backs are turned. There have been some close calls, though. Like the time he got so lost in listening to you speak that he hadn't realized he'd started resting the side of his face on his hand while staring at you, hearts practically in his eyes. The moment he realized, he'd run off from you with a shout of, “Nonspecific excuse!”

🎱 Stan is a bit of a collector, and that certainly doesn't stop with you. He loves snatching little keepsakes from you. Nothing you'd miss, or nothing you'd miss for long. Discarded doodles, forgotten gloves, change that had fallen to the floor unnoticed, and occasionally, your phone, to make sure he didn't have a competition. Everything he keeps goes into his study. He also likes swiping your unfinished snacks or drinks and finishing them himself - he thinks of it as an indirect kiss (yeah, he's gross, what of it?) And it's hard to admit even to himself, but he gets a certain thrill whenever he snaps a candid shot of you from one of the polaroid he swiped from stock for “store use.” That's not all, though! He goes through security camera footage and rifles through it for cute videos of you - ah, but hey, you're always cute, aren't you? He saves them all and watches them religiously. He also may secretly go through Mabel's scrapbook to find pictures of you and make copies of them for his own personal collection, always making sure it gets returned to Mabel seemingly untouched. It's probably the most organized collection he has! And, of course, he's put a framed picture of you right beside the one of Mabel and Dipper in the laboratory downstairs. It makes Stan think of an imagined, impossible world where you and he raise the two together. Your own little family.

🎲 Another fantasy he indulges in is drugging you up and keeping you hidden in the laboratory. It'd be so easy. You're so trusting of him when you really shouldn't be, when he doesn't deserve to be. It'd be so easy to steal you away all for himself. Gravity Falls is a weird town. Strange things happen, and they either go unremembered or unspoken. Sure, you'd be missed, but it's not like the police force in town would get very far. Heck, he'd put more faith in his grand-niblings cracking the case than Blubs and Durland! And, well, you stole his heart first. It's only fair. And Stan would take such good care of you, he knows it! He'd keep you all nice and drugged up. Maybe you'd be euphoric and clingy, or your brain too foggy to escape or do much for yourself, or maybe he'd give you something so that you're too sick to even consider leaving for the hospital lest your condition worsen any further. You'd need him. That's all he'd ever want.

🎱 Stan is very protective of you. He tries not to be so obvious, but his temper had such a short fuse when it came to you. You were just so sweet, so nice, even to a scumbag like him! You were so good with the kids, always such a help around the shack, even going so far as to visit on your day off just because you liked the Pines’ company. Liked his company. I mean, how the hell could anyone think they're good enough for you? Nah, nah, nah, he's not letting any mouth-breathing idiots in this town try to make moves on you just because they're too stupid to realize you're outta their league! And if he even thinks he hears someone a bad word about you, he'll be up in their face, cussing them out and making threats (as well as very rude hand gestures.) It's embarrassing for him afterwards, though. He doesn't want to think he's losing control and becoming more obvious, but with how Mabel claims it was ‘so sweet’ of him to be so protective of you, he can't help but worry.

🎲 Stan gradually becomes more physically affectionate with you. “Accidentally” brushing his hands against yours, leaving a hand on your shoulder or arm for a bit too long, nearly embarrassing himself by wrapping you up in a hug in front of everyone. He just can't help it! He's… He's in love! He's in love with you, and he wants to be with you. You make him happy just by being near him. You make his life better just by being in it. He wants to hold you, hug you, kiss you, be with you, and keep you with him forever. But, Stan also knows he can't. You'd never agree to it, surely. No matter how much Stan wants to think otherwise. Old bastard like him, he wasn't good enough for you - but then again, he thought no one was. But he could take comfort in you just being near him (if you ever tried to leave, he doesn't know what he'd do…) That way, at least, he couldn't screw anything up. That's all he'd do, anyway. It'd fail, just like all of his other relationships and all because of him. He should know better. He should know that he's a fuckup, that he destroys everything he touches, and that everyone he's ever known has suffered because of him. He just… He just wishes he could be closer. He knows he's not good enough for you to love him or need him and that he never will be, but God, does he wish he was.

[imtryingbuck]

Affair Part 2

~ gif not mine credit goes to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x ??

Summary: The aftermath of reader telling Bucky she’s divorcing him

Word count: 3157

Warnings: Bucky is a big huge gigantic humongous dumdum. Swearing, if there’s more let me know.

Translation: милая девушка - beautiful girl. ангел - angel.

Masterlist

Part 1

“I filed for divorce” kept playing on his mind for the rest of the night long after she had gone to bed. His phone kept going off nonstop, the messages and missed calls all from Sharon.

He stayed at the home he shared with his wife and children for four hours waiting, hoping his beautiful wife who he betrayed would come back down the stairs and tell him she forgave him.

It never happened.

He left, getting into the car his wife brought him, the same car he fucked his mistress in and went straight to Sharon’s. Knocking on the door he only had to wait for a few minutes before the wooden door came swinging open.

“You finally showed, I’ve been waiting for ages! We need to talk” Sharon stands there, red eyed as if she had been crying.

“She’s divorcing me” Walking past her and looking around the room he’d been in so many time before - double date nights, just seeing his best friend, cheating on his wife with his best friend’s wife.

“He’s divorcing me too” Her voice was happier than his. “Now we can be together, I had to cry in front of Steve pretending I cared. Then you wouldn’t pick up your phone I wa-”

“I don’t want you Sharon. I want Y/n. I want my children and my best friend back. Me and you biggest mistake I have ever made!” Cutting her off.

“You’re joking right? We are so perfect together not me and Steve and especially not you and that bitch!”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare call my wife a bitch” he seethes.

“Don’t act like you care now Bucky where was that caring nature of yours when you was sleeping with me for 8 months? And news flash she’s divorcing you she’s not going to get back with you!”

Having her remind him of the stone cold truth hit him in the gut. Sharon was right, his wife was divorcing him. She was never going to get back together with him.

“I don’t care if she’s divorcing me just don’t call her a bitch.”

“Okay, how about we don’t talk about them two okay? Here’s what I was thinking, I’m getting the house in the divorce so I’ll just sell it and me and you can get an apartment together? We can buy all new furniture and it can be a fresh start for us and oh I’ve already found -“.

As Sharon stands there rambling on he had the urge to ring his wife and tell her she was wrong. Sharon did want him now that they were divorcing, she’s even planned to sell her house so they can get an apartment together. Y/n was wrong about that Sharon and himself couldn’t run off into the sunset and live happily ever after because he stood there with his mistress in front of him and having to hear her rambling off about their new future together.

His wife who he loves more than anything in this world was wrong.

Because it wasn’t Sharon that didn’t want him now their affair was known to their spouses. It was him. He was the one that didn’t want her, he didn’t want the apartment with Sharon, he didn’t want a fresh start with his best friends soon to be ex-wife. No, he wanted his wife back. He wanted a fresh start with Y/n so he can get a second chance of being better. He wanted the love of his life back, and he wanted Steve back - he knew himself that Steve wouldn’t forgive him for his part of her affair.

“-Bucky? Bucky are you even listening to me?” Sharon’s voice cut his inner monologue off.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry”

“You wasn’t listening was you? It’s okay silly bum I was just talking about an apartment I found the other day, oh Buck it’s beautiful and I honestly think it would be perfect for us” Her voice was hopeful and excited. He found himself comparing her voice to the one belonging to his wife when she found the house that became their home.

“Sharon this isn’t going to work”

“Of course it will, I love you and you love me”

“No Sharon I don’t. I don’t love you, I will always love Y/n”

“No! No you don’t James! You love me!” Sharon screamed at him.

Sighing “Listen Sharon I don’t love you, I never had. I have never been attracted to you-“

“Never been attracted to me? You’re joking right?”

“No”

“You prick!”

“We wouldn’t work anyway Sharon. You cheated on Steve with me and I cheated on Y/n with you. We would always accuse each other, we wouldn’t be happy I can promise you that”

“N-no you wouldn’t cheat on me though!”

“I cheated on my WIFE! You really think I wouldn’t do it to you? I love her for Christ sake, she’s the only person I have ever been attracted to! When I was fucking you I was thinking of her! C’mon Sharon don’t be so stupid, it doesn’t suit you” He’s only now regretting coming over here, at the time he didn’t know where else he could go.

“Yo-you ruined my marriage James” he watched her struggle to breathe for a moment “you ruined my marriage!”

“No I didn’t, you did. You are the one that made a vow to Steve not me. Like how I ruined my marriage with Y/n not you.”

“You-we made love James”

“We fucked. We didn’t make love Sharon” rolling his eyes at her petty attempt at making him change his mind.

“I-don’t-you don’t want me now? But you did earlier? You fucked me in your car, went home and get confronted by your wife, then you come here and tell me you don’t want me anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me right now?” Her anger and tears were on full display.

“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just I love Y/n more than anything. I’m going to go; I’ll see you around I guess” he was just about to touch the door handle when her voice stopped him.

“Fuck me one last time. Please James”.

And ever the fool, he did.

~~~

The months after she told him she had filed for divorce she flourished, no more crying herself to sleep, no more fake smiles and no more faking confidence. She was the happiest she had been since she caught her husband fucking a woman that was most definitely not her. Her and Steve’s friendship grew too, they became closer than ever. They were each other’s shoulder to cry on, they supported one another when they needed it.

But then came their divorce to being finalised, and that’s where Y/n struggled.

Nat had forced convinced her to go and see a therapist, Dr Grey was a lovely woman who didn’t care about telling her to stop putting herself down, happily called her stupid when she blamed herself for the affair. Dr Grey - Linda as she told Y/n to call her - became a good friend, a friend she needed and wanted.

In the aftermath of her divorce she became isolated, she didn’t want to see or hear anyone that wasn’t her children. Sam being the best friend that he is, would pick up the kids and take them to school and drop them back off. Nat would go to the shops and sometimes even cook them dinner. She felt like she was causing problems for Nat and Sam because they were spending so much time running around after her that they couldn’t spend any time together.

“Don’t be stupid Y/n. You know me and Sam love you, we are more than happy to help” Nat spoke one night when they were lying in bed together.

“I feel like I’m causing problems and I don’t want you two to argue becau-“

“Y/n stop! You’re not causing problems and we are not arguing, like at all. You know Sam loves them kids of yours, he actually loves taking them to school because and I quote ‘they make me feel cool’” both women chuckle at the red heads husband “so stop милая девушка, we are both here for you, I promise”

She cried herself to sleep most nights, cried for the loss of her marriage - for weeks she would find herself going to play with the ring that use to sit on her fourth finger only for her to look down and only see a fading white tan line. Signing her maiden name not married one took months to engrain as she was just so use to writing Barnes after her name. She would find herself reaching out to the other side of the brand new double sized bed searching for his warmth, always finding it empty, always leaving her feeling alone and cold.

She cried the loss of her friendship with Sharon. They had been friends for nearly three years prior to Sharon introducing her and Bucky to each other. She was the first person Y/n would phone whenever something good and bad happened, she was actually the first person to know Y/n was pregnant with her oldest child - hell it was Sharon that told her she was pregnant as she couldn’t bring herself to look at it. Y/n was always there for Sharon night or day she was there. The pain of her betrayal was almost more unbearable than Bucky’s.

Her mental and physical health took a toll too. Constantly blaming herself for not being enough for him, blaming herself for being tired sometimes to not have sex with him. Blaming herself was so much easier and safer for her than to blame the two people who hurt her. Her weight loss was concerning to Nat and Sam, although she would find herself hungry she just couldn’t stomach anything. Nat cleaned the house whilst Sam took the kids to the park as Y/n had a shower for the first time in nearly a month, she felt like she could conquer the world all because she showered, washed her hair and shaved.

Then she accepted the divorce. She accepted that she was no longer someone’s wife, she even (more dramatically) accepted that she’d be single for the rest of her life. With the help from Linda she accepted that Bucky’s affair was not her fault.

~~~

It had now been two years since they were officially divorced.

Y/n made a friend at work, Peggy. Beautiful, kind and the sweetest person. She had set her up with Steve to help him get himself back out there, they’d been dating for nearly a year. Y/n couldn’t believe how much happier he looked now, she was happy for him truly she was. She believed he deserved it.

Dating for her was, well….

“You’re absolutely glowing ангел” Nat whistled as Y/n walked into the kitchen.

“Stop flirting with me”

“I can’t help it милая девушка”

“Sam come and get your wife!”

“What’s going on?” Sam asks coming to where the women were, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple then giving Nat a quick kiss.

“Your wife keeps flirting with me”

Wiggling his eyebrows “well things can be arranged”

“Samuel!” Both women scold him but shortly after burst out laughing.

“No but I was telling her that she was glowing” Nat informed.

“You are, you seem happier as well” Sam agreed.

“Well… ikindofmetsomeone”

“What!” Both Sam and Nat shout in unison.

“I met someone..”

“Who?” When? Where? How?” Y/n rolled her eyes at the pair talking in tandem.

“His name is Ari. I literally bumped into after I ran out of the cafe after setting Steve and Peggy up on their date”.

“Is he good to you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great with the kids”

“Wait…he’s met the kids?”

“Yeah it was an accident, James said he couldn’t take the kids because of work and Ari came to pick me up for our date but ended up staying at mine. The kids love him”.

“I can’t wait to meet him!” Nat smiles.

~~~

Bucky hadn’t seen Sharon after he left the next morning, he felt ashamed and guilty for sleeping with her. For some bizarre reason he thought it would be a great idea to go to Nat and Sam’s to talk to Steve.

“Absolutely not. You’re not coming in Buck”

“Please Sam I know he’s here, I jus- I just need to talk to him”

“About what? Jesus Bucky you were having an affair with his wife!”

“I know I just need to apologise” He heard movement behind Sam, when he saw Steve’s pained expression his heart sank.

“I don’t want to hear any apologies. But you will listen to me.” Steve gives Sam a small nod, stepped further out of the doorway. “I have known you since we were kids and not once have I ever not trusted you. Not once have an ever wanted to punch you as much as right now. But.. but I’m not going to, it’s not worth it. You betrayed me man! You knew how much I loved her! And there’s Y/n, you had this perfect woman and you cheated on her!” Slightly shaking his head “you-you had the perfect family and you fucked it up by fucking my wife! I was always jealous of you, did you know that? Sharon never wanted kids so when you told me Y/n was pregnant I was jealous. You two had this perfect relationship whilst me and her were arguing all the time, I was jealous” swallowing hard and taking a deep breath “but you see James as much as I wanted the life you had I would of never and I mean never of done what you have done!”

Bucky stands there with tears rolling down his cheeks, wanting to say something but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“You know when Y/n told me about the affair she couldn’t stop apologising, couldn’t stop crying, she even puked up. I had to calm your wife down trying to reassure her that what you did wasn’t her fault! And where were you huh? Screwing my wife!” Chuckling lightly to himself. “Me and Y/n deserve so much better than you two. I really hope it was worth it James because I can’t forgive you. And the fact you have the audacity to come here after spending the night with Sharon just proves how little you care” when he sees Bucky’s eyebrow twitch in confusion he laughs “I really can’t see Y/n giving you a hickey after she’s told your sorry ass she’s divorcing you. Goodbye James it was nice knowing you”.

Y/n was right, he was alone. He had no one in his corner. Going through the divorce process was difficult for him, like she said she wasn’t going to take anything from him. Custody had been split between them evenly as agreed. The part he was struggling with was, only being able to see her at the weekends, their conversations was just about the kids nothing more nothing less.

Then Sam started to do drop offs and pick up leaving him completely crushed. He no longer got to see her even if it was for 10 or if he was really lucky 15 minutes. The friendship he had with Sam and Nat became strained, he didn’t blame them. He did miss them though.

To deal with the loss of his marriage he turned to drinking. Sometimes he would come home from the bar and call out for Y/n, cry when he got no response, 9 out of 10 times he’d fall over and then fall asleep on the floor.

Then that dreaded day came.

Sam had long gone after dropping the kids off, he was in the middle of cooking dinner with his oldest talking about school when he heard a name he hasn’t heard before.

“Sweetheart what was that?”

“Me and Tommy and Billy are now best friends they’re new to school”

“I’m glad but not that bit baby, you said someone helped you with your homework?”

“Oh Ari, he helps me he’s so clever daddy”

“Who’s Ari?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We saw them kissing” giggling when her younger brother pulls a disgusting face.

Of course he knew that it would happen, her dating. Of course she would, she had every right to find happiness and love after he destroyed that for her. Any man would be lucky enough to be with her - she’s funny, beautiful, loving, kind and passionate, the list goes on - he should know, he was once that lucky man before he fucked it all up.

The knowledge of his now ex-wife is dating again broke something inside of him. What? He doesn’t quite know, he shouldn’t have felt anything other than happiness for her.

~~~

It was their son’s birthday party today, the squeals of close to 30 children running around the backyard full of sugar could be heard from down the street, most of their little faces decorated with face paint.

The birthday boy was currently bouncing around on the dinosaur themed bouncy castle - that he just had to have - after laying on the grass for 10 minutes complaining he was ill. Their oldest daughter was walking around showing the adults her butterfly wings that went with the butterfly paint on her face.

Y/n was rushing around making sure everything was okay and running smoothly as well and making sure everyone was having a good time. Bucky thought she looked absolutely breath taking in the white floral dress and white pumps. Her hair was up in two fishtail braids, just like his daughter.

It was the first time in two years that he saw Steve - like Y/n he looked happier, healthier, freer. The woman that was placed snuggly under his arm was beautiful and when Bucky noticed Steve’s hand position when talking to Sam he saw the pregnancy bump, Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his former best friend finally getting his dream of being a dad.

The cheerful scream pulled his eyes away from Steve to his daughter who was running past him heading towards the sliding glass doors. A tall, well-built man stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

“Ari Ari - look mommy Ari’s here”

“I can see that sweetie-“

He started to struggle to breath, his own daughter was more happier to see this Ari guy than him, the smile that lit up Y/n’s beautiful face crushed him. Then it got worse for him. He watched as his former best friend go up to Ari and greeted him in the same way them two use to great each other.

~~~

Going back to the once lively and warm house that he once called home the realisation of how truly alone Bucky was, was a tough pill for him to swallow.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[aoioozora]

Crown of Peace

Character: John Marston (Red Dead Redemption) Content: J.M x daughter reader, fluff, John not being a deadbeat dad Note: Happens after the events of RDR1, John doesn't die and the Marstons live happily ever after and have a daughter because why the hell not, I just want them to be happy 😭 Also this is for anyone with daddy issues >:) Enjoy!

Your father was your entire world, and as you wove together a flower crown of wild feverfew, you raised your little head to see the impressive silhouette of your slim, tall father standing by the banks of a small river with a fishing rod in hand, bathed in the light of the setting sun.

You watched admiringly as a breeze tousled his black hair and he slowly raised his head to savor the coolness of the evening and the warmth of the dying daylight.

"Papa!" you called John, your voice shrill, rising and running up to him with your little legs. When he turned around, you showed him the flower crown, "I made a flower crown!"

He smiled gently at you and keeping down his fishing rod, he knelt down to inspect the crown of white flowers. "Well, ain't this somethin'. You made it all by yourself?"

"Yeah! Mama taught me!" you exclaimed cheerily.

Your father found himself grinning at the sight of your smile and ruffled your hair. "You're real talented, kid," he praised, looking down at the crown. "So, who is this for? Your Ma?"

"No," you giggled mischievously. Your father raised a brow at this.

You then proceeded to take off his worn, bleached hat and then placed the crown of flowers on his head. "It's for you!"

He blinked in surprise and then chuckled. "For me?" he exclaimed, smirking as he pinched your little nose, "But boys don't wear flowers, you know."

You rubbed your nose and then argued, "But Jack told me that there are boy flowers and girl flowers! So that means flowers are for boys and girls!"

He laughed heartily at that. Your elder brother Jack was an avid reader, often teaching you about things he read. And you always knew how to use the things you were taught, for you were very smart.

"Is that so? Well, alright, if you say so," your father relented.

You smiled, satisfied by his response. As you decided to claim his hat as your own and put it on your head, your father turned to the fishing rod when he noticed a tugging. He immediately seized the rod and yanked out the catch from the water. Taking the fish in his hand, he saw that it was a rather large bluegill. He bent down and showed it to you.

"That's a big catch, ain't it?" he told you, "We can ask Ma to fry this for dinner."

"Yeah!" you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as you watched him put the fish into a bag.

"Papa, I want to fish too. Will you teach me?" you begged as he began to pack up his equipment.

He put his hand on your head to give you a pat. "Sure, but not today. I don't have a whole lot of bait, and this rod is too big for you. I'll get you one just your size and then I'll teach you, alright?"

You pouted but relented at his promise.

When he had packed everything up, he flicked his head towards the horse, "We should get going home now. Come on."

You hesitated.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Can we stay a little longer? Please?"

"Why?"

"I want to make a crown for Mama,"

Your father paused, his eyes flickering to the setting Sun. It was still a little high in the sky, but it wouldn't take long for it to soon dip behind the mountains. He didn't want to remain outdoors too long as it would get colder and there would be raiders and coyotes lurking around in the dark for their next meal.

"Alright, but you have to finish making your crown before sunset."

You nodded, and immediately got to picking more wild feverfew. Your father sat down by the pebbled banks with his legs crossed, watching over you as you squatted by a patch of flowers, picking the choicest ones. The crown you gave him remained on his head, and he almost preferred it to the grizzled hat that rested on yours.

The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, with the gentle and steady ripple of the river water, the softly whistling breeze, the birds chirping and flitting about playfully; and the glowing red sphere slowly laying down in his abode in the mountains, taking the light of day with him. Dried leaves and air-borne seeds fluttered and twirled in the breeze, tenderly laying upon the surface of the water and floating away downstream.

He was not one to stop and look at nature and ponder upon it, but the beauty of the tranquil evening commanded his attention, and he decided to take the opportunity to slow himself down for once.

His steady reflections were interrupted by the crunch of gravel next to him. When he turned, he saw his daughter with a bunch of the white flowers in her hands.

"Papa, can I sit with you?" you asked.

"Of course, darling," he answered tenderly, patting his lap, "Come, sit here."

You situated yourself on his lap and began to tie up the flower stems to make the crown. While you did, he raised his rough hand and gently put his arm around your little body, pulling you and pressing you closer to him. You scooted close as he did, happily snuggling up against his chest.

Your father couldn't fight a smile at how small and sweet you looked. He didn't know how to treat a little girl, but he knew that they had to be treated with gentleness and delicacy. As he watched you, he felt the weight of his fatherly responsibility rest heavy on his shoulders.

He was a man in a man's world, but she was a girl in a man's world. Not only did she have to maintain her femininity, grace, and sweetness as she grew, but she had to learn to be strong, and not be a pushover. His thoughts wandered, thinking of all the things you had to learn. Morals, cooking, housekeeping, shooting, hunting, diplomacy; nothing would be exempt. Whatever he taught his son, he'd teach you.

He let out a sigh and his eyes flickered to his hat on your head.

It was far too big and loose for you, and it kept falling over your face, making you repeatedly push it back up and hindering your progress and speed. Regardless, you stubbornly let the hat be. But your father wasn't having it, and he took it off.

"Papa!" you whined, upset by the lack of his hat.

"You can wear it later," he assured, placing it on his knee, "It's not making it easy for you to make your crown."

You relented and went back to tying up the flowers.

He turned to his hat that was previously on your head; the gnarly thing had seen hell and bloodshed, and to see it on the head of innocence herself was unbearable. His past life and present life would never meet, and he'd make sure of it. Even if he wasn't one for the flowers that crowned his head, he sure preferred the happiness that it represented.

He continued to watch you, and seeing the numerous flowers on your lap, picked one up and tucked its stem behind your ear, adjusting it so that the bloom was in full display next to your face, enhancing your beauty. He smiled again, gazing lovingly at you, the very picture of loveliness.

"Finished!" you soon exclaimed, holding up the second crown of flowers.

Your father smiled wider. "Your ma will love it," he replied. Looking down once again at your lap, he found that a few more flowers remained. "What are you gonna do with those?" he asked.

You hummed thoughtfully as you picked up a flower. Looking at the bandolier strapped on his chest, you slipped it in one of the empty bullet cartridges.

"We can carry these home," you said, continuing to put the flowers in the cartridges, even plucking out the bullets and putting them in his hand to replace them.

Your father allowed you to. It seemed symbolic to him, you replacing the bullets with flowers. He wasn't one to get emotional easily, but the act tightened his chest and brimmed his eyes over with tears that he blinked away.

His bandolier was filled with the remaining flowers, and how much lovelier it looked to him.

"Now we can go home," you told him, smiling.

"Alright, get up then," he said as he stashed the bullets in his pocket.

You rose and your father followed suit, rising with a grunt. He gave you his hat to carry, which you happily grabbed and held close. Just as he was about to start walking towards his horse, you tugged his pant.

"Papa, carry me," you pleaded, raising your arms up to him, looking at him the way a hungry chick looked up to its mother.

He felt his heart squeeze; he promptly lifted you up in his arms and feeling an overflow of affection for you, squeezed you tight against him. You wrapped your little arms around his neck and rested your cheek against his shoulder, content and safe.

The short walk brought you to the horse and he placed you on the saddle before getting on behind you. "You ready to go, kid?" he asked, wrapping his large hand around your stomach to secure you.

You answered that you were, but he didn't spur his horse on just yet. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss on the side of your head.

Giggling, you said in response, "I love you, Papa."

He chuckled. "Where'd you learn that from?"

"I heard you say it to Mama."

"So you have been spying on us, you little brat?" he laughed, playfully squishing your cheeks in his large hand, making you giggle harder.

"But you're always saying it to Mama in front of everyone!" you protested.

"Yeah, that's because I love your Ma," he answered, "And I want everyone to know."

"Do you love me too?" you raised your head to meet his eyes.

"Of course I love you, kid," he answered, squishing your face again, "I always will. Don't ever forget that, alright?"

"Yes, Papa,"

With a kick to the horse's flanks, the two of you rode back to Beecher's Hope. You rested your back against your father's chest; the constant activity of the day, the warmth of the sunset, the chill of the breeze, and your father's presence made your body sag and your eyes heavy with sleep. Noticing this, John held you firmly under his hand.

The crown of wild feverfew continued to adorn his head as he rode down the dirt trails past other riders and wagons, and there was no shame on his proud face. Even if it was a simple, humble crown of perishable flowers, it meant much. This was his offspring's gift, a symbol of happiness now and forever:

A crown of peace.

[poetryandfluffycats]

may I request a Tsukasa x reader where the reader loves children and babies and loves taking care of them, making them laugh, cuddling them and making them sleep and some children end up calling her mama? (⁠づ⁠｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡⁠)⁠づ

A/N: I feel like this is too short, I hope it is to your liking anyway🤍

Pairing: Tsukasa Suou x GN!reader(no pronouns mentioned)

Warnings: none, wholesome bliss

Content: Tsukasa lost you at your own birthday dinner. How could he let this happen? And most importantly, where on earth did you go?

Words: 524

Oneshot under cut!

A Happy Ending

"(name)? (name)? Where did you run off to?

This was bad. Tsukasa had lost you at your own birthday dinner. He'd been searching for a good ten minutes now and had probably looked through every room in your family's estate about three times. Never would he even consider asking one of your relatives for help, though. That would be mortifying! You had prided him to your parents as being an upstanding gentleman and a highly successful idol, someone who would be able to take care of you and whatever family you created in the future.

Now that his honer was at stake, he'd rather die than admit he had lost you in such a short amount of time and in such a small area. How had he lost you, anyway? Almost all of his bodyguards had accompanied the both of you to the party and had been keeping a close eye on you the whole time, allegedly.

He sighed, leaning his head against one of the walls. "Where on earth did you go..."

Tsukasa was starting to worry. You had been so excited to celebrate with your family, he couldn't imagine you willingly leaving without telling anyone. Had something bad happened? What if someone had hurt you? God, he would never forgive himself if you were sitting somewhere alone, injured and unable to call for help.

Just as he was about to accept his defeat and ring his bodyguards for assistance, he heard the faint sound of a giggle, then another, and another coming from a closed room down the hall. It was coming from... the babies room? But all the children had gone to bed hours ago, why would you want to go in there?

Another giggle, his time joined by a laugh he recognised all too well, your laugh. You were in there, and you were laughing. Great, you were safe. Next question: Why on earth were you in the nursery?

Tsukasa approached the door slowly, not wanting to alert you, or any sleeping toddlers of his presence. He reached for the door handle, turning it every so slightly to get a peak of the inside. What he saw-and heard-made his heart swell.

You were sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, surrounded by at least 6 children and a mountain of stuffed animals. All of the children were staring at you intently, entranced by the story you read out for them. One was even sat in your lap, playing with the bows you had put in your hair.

"And then, the brave knight took the princess' hand in his own, and the two of them ran off into the sunset together, never to be seen again and living happily ever after" You finished off the story with a smile, closing the book and setting it down on the ground beside you.

"Did they get married, (name)?" A young girl asked, pulling her blanket over her head.

"Of course they did, silly! They were in love, after all" You chuckled, ruffling the little girls hair. "Its called a happy ending"

A happy ending...

Tsukasa could live with that.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2 of the major bracket

Propaganda:

For Kazuki and Rei:

they're essentially contract killers. rei comes from a long line of assassins and kazuki fell into the profession by circumstance. they're 'best friends' who live together and work on their hitman cases together. they're on one of these cases when they find themselves in an accidental baby acquisition situation and suddenly unasaka miri, aged 4, is their daughter. now all that's left is for them to forge a bunch of documents to get miri into daycare! they desperately juggle being fathers and assassins until eventually they realise they'd rather run a diner, and they live happily ever after with their daughter.

They're hitmen. They share an apartment. They end up raising a kid together (after killing her dad). They try to give that kid a normal life, but are terrible at it in complimentary ways.

Assassin partners who end up adopting a child.

For House and Wilson:

Literally the most insane couple of all time from medical malpractice the show. They’re best friends, they live together, they’ve drugged eachother, they make stupid bets together, they manipulate each other, they ride off into the sunset together. They’re Sherlock and Watson, they’re the best doctors in their fields and you’d never want them anywhere near your medical care.

Medical malpractice <3

[primordialervoid]

I just love how the events of the last few months in the ofmd fandom have proven it to be full of hypocrites.

When the season finale came out Izzy fans were absolutely shat on for expressing their disappointment, and now? Now the person who called you stupid and immature for not realizing that your favorite character(whose story deeply resonated with you and your relationship to queerness) dying a stupid and unjustified death is good and wholesome actually is having a meltdown over the fact that their favorite characters(the good and wholesome queers, whose story, I'm sure, deeply resonated with them and their relationship to queerness) were only allowed to run off into the sunset together to live happily ever after.

It's like nooo what's the matter I thought the finale was completely satisfying? Don't you know that it's pretty common for queer shows to get cancelled? 🥺

Also can't forget the time when the Izzy tag became completely unusable because of all the holier-than-thou weirdos acting like it was absolutely necessary for them to post hate in the main tag in order to "educate" the fans about their moral failure of liking a fictional guy.

Turns out the weirdos in question are terrible at handling racism accusations when they're given a similar treatment.

Who would've thought

[milkdoone]

bad idea right?

*kinda based off the song bad idea right by olivia rodrigo*

a/n : haven't written in a while so i apologize if it's lowk ass

word count: 905

warnings : peter's lowk an asshole but it's okay because it's him :3 , they get a lil intimate at the end but it's nothing really explicit

background : y/n and peter recently broke up due to complications. it was a messy breakup, leaving both frustrated yet missing the other and wishing they handled it better. gwen, y/n's best friend, tells her that it's for the best and that she shouldn't give into him. now y/n loves gwen, she really does, but what happens when peter texts her that he misses her?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

it's been 3 weeks since they broke up, 3 long and hard rough weeks for y/n. she's frustrated with the idea of not being able to greet him with a kiss everyday before class or hold his hand throughout the halls. having a class with him doesn't help either. everyday he walks in with that fluffy brown hair of his, that sexy blue shirt on, or that famillar attractive scent that lingers wherever he goes. it drives her crazy knowing that they aren't together anymore.

she stares at him from across class, almost daydreaming of the day they get back together and run away into the sunset, ready to live their happily ever after.

"hey !" a famillar voice wakes her up

she turns to the voice and sees that it's her best friend, gwen stacy. her scolding face is all that y/n needs to know what she's going to say.

"stop thinking about him..and stop staring too. don't forget y/n he treated you like shit. he forgot anniversaries, your own birthday, and god must i continue y/n?!" the blonde raised her voice as her friend only looked at her with a disappointed frown. she inhales and exhales deeply before switching her tone of voice to something more softer and less harsh.

"look...i know you love him but you just have to move on. it was agonizing seeing you get treated like that. you don't deserve that honey" she gently spoke, resting a hand on her shoulder

"but gwen he's so cute ! when he walks into class looking so good it's like he's inviting me to take him back !" y/n pouted as gwen only groaned

"you're missing the point y/n ! he ended things and didn't even bother trying to put in effort." the bell had rang, breifly interupting her setence "...don't go chasing after someone who treats you like dirt. especially if they don't want anything to do with you. now cmon let's go, we have a test next period" gwen said as she left class

y/n followed behind gwen, her mind now racing with gwen's advice and flashbacks of her and peter's relationship. her words echo throughout all the memories. for a split second she's ready to take gwen's advice but when she sees peter walking past her, she forgets everything she was just told.

-

later that night y/n sat in her room watching a movie, hoping it'll take her mind off her ex boyfriend. as the movie plays, y/n can feel herself drifiting off to sleep. her eyes got tired and weary before the ding of her phone interupted her slumber.

"you up?"

"i miss you"

her eyes nearly pop out of her head when she sees the messages. her heart sinks to the floor when she recongizes that it's peter who texted her. without thinking and in a panic she calls gwen. as the phone rings y/n paces throughout her room, praying that she picks up.

"hey y/n what's up? everything okay?" gwen's voice rings from the other side with concern

"he texted me ! he fucking texted me gwen !" y/n shouts

"oh my god really? what did he say?"

"asked if i was up and said he missed me. oh my god gwen what do i do?? i talked about taking him back but now that i have a chance to i don't even know !!! gwen cmon help me you're like the angel on my shoulder and i'm my own devil on the other side"

"okay first thing's first, you don't reply. you leave him on delievered and you keep him on delivered. no matter what he says or texts you, don't even consider giving in alright?"

y/n's phone dings one more time, loud enough for gwen to hear as well. it was another text from peter.

"open your window pretty girl. miss you so much. can't stand being away from you anymore"

her heartbeat was pumping. he was just outside and the opportunity of getting him back was just at the finger tips.

"y/n? you okay? what was that? who texted you?" gwen's voice on the other end was becoming static. she couldn't think about anything but letting him back into her home, and into her life. she opens the window and just outside is peter and god did he look good.

"hey pretty girl" he grinned as he let himself in

he took her by the waist and kissed her passionately. in that moment y/n was gone, she didn't care if gwen would scold her, all that mattered to her was that she was finally with peter again. his touch beginning to make her body melt like putty.

"god i missed that so much..." he panted, breath heavy from the kiss he just shared with y/n

"y/n is that peter??? what is he doing there? did you take him back? oh my god y/n i told you-" she was cut short by peter hanging up the phone. he tossed it to the side and continue to kiss her.

he slowly brought her down to her bed, slowly trailing down from her lips to her neck. she's too lost in him to say anything and too deep to turn back. her mind goes blank as she feels him reach those famillar spots he always knew how to reach. god did she miss him so.

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 31: "You told your parents?" ~ Arthur Morgan/OC [1,105 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

Cora was having a downright glorious day. Although the days when she and Arthur broke off from the rest of the camp and roughed it alone for a week or two always were, but this was one of their best little solo trips yet. The weather was beautiful, they stopped off at the post office before they really delved into the wilderness so she had a letter from home, and they hadn’t run into even a shadow of trouble. Considering the way chaos had a habit of finding Arthur, that particular part was a true miracle.

At present, they’d made camp just a little ways away from a lake – close enough to easily take a dip, but not so close that they’d be exposed to any who drifted near the shore – and she sat with her back against a tree while the wild turkey, the one that had them affectionately bickering over who had been the one to actually shoot it, roasted on a spit over the fire. They were being treated to the sort of sunshine that promised a beautiful pink-red sunset, and it took all she had not to hum happily as she read her letter from her hometown.

“My ma says hi,” she called to him as she read.

Up ‘til that moment, he’d been firmly rooted in man-roasting-his-kill mode. Or her kill, as she kept insisting anyway. He always insisted on taking over the cooking for at least their first night out here – although it was usually more, unless she really fought him on the matter. She rarely did, though, because it was sweet. A man who was hell-bent on cooking her dinner personally. Who’d’ve ever thought one like that existed? It was a question she found herself asking a lot ever since she’d first fallen for Arthur Morgan.

Her words, however, jolted him out of that mode.

“Your mother?”

“Uh-huh.”

“…she said to tell me that?”

“No, Dutch. I was hoping you’d pass the word along,” she drawled.

He stilled, leaning back where he knelt on the ground, regarding her thoughtfully.

“You…told your folks about me?”

“The basics, sure.”

“The basics?”

“That I’m courting a man I’m crazy about – and that he’s kind, funny, good, and handsome to boot.”

“You lied to ‘em, then.”

“I fudged the details on the whole livin’ in sin aspect, but everything else I just said is true,” she frowned at him. “…Shouldn’t I have?”

After their first night together, they’d both agreed that this wasn’t a sneaking into each other’s bedroll for some stress relief kind of thing. That it was more than that. That they were making a real go of it, in their own way. But maybe he viewed their way as not being something that should be shared around. The camp was one thing, nothing stayed secret for long there, but she had a hell of a lot more control over whether or not her folks knew. She just…hadn’t thought it would bother him. Instead, he looked bothered.

Maybe she should’ve asked first.

“I’m not exactly the bring home to mom and dad sort, sweetheart,” he said finally.

Ouch.

“Well, they live so far away it’s a wonder their letters even arrive in one piece. You’ll never have to meet ‘em if you don’t want to.”

Cora tried to play it cool as she spoke, shrugging casually and lowering her head so that her long dark hair fell forward over her face, pretending to be fascinated by the letter in her hand. Of course he saw through it.

“Shit, Cora, that ain’t what I meant at all,” he stood, approached, and then knelt before her on the ground. “Just that…I’m not the sort that a respectable woman would want to bring home to mom and dad.”

Oh. This was around the time she knew he’d be breaking out words like ugly and haggard if she hadn’t entirely vetoed them some time ago. Folding the letter and setting it in the midst of her skirts, she regarded him softly.

“I’m not a very respectable woman, Arthur,” she snorted.

“I respect you,” he said simply.

“And that’s what matters. To me. To them, too – my folks aren’t the high and mighty sort. Do you think I’d be running with Dutch’s crew if they were? Ma’s just glad to have one less mouth to feed, and pa – god love him – is a drunk. If I brought home some, some heir to a fortune with a stick lodged up his ass, they’d think I lost my damn mind. They know whatever I’m up to out here isn’t squeaky clean, how could it be? But we all play dumb to avoid stressful conversations. I keep ‘em clued in on the good parts, and you’re the best part.”

He breathed a laugh, but when he met her gaze and found her dark eyes fixed on him almost sternly, so there could be no doubt as to whether she meant every word she said, the laughter disappeared and he leaned back to sit on his ass on the ground in front of her, leg bent so one arm could rest atop his knee.

“You don’t have to meet ‘em, ever, if you don’t want to,” she continued. “But you gotta know that if you did, I’d be much more concerned about what you were going to make of them, rather than what they’d think of you. Because that last part wouldn’t make a damn lick of difference to me. Ever.”

Shifting a little, she could see in his face that he was tempted not to believe her – whether he’d admit that fact or not.

“I mean it, Arthur. They’d love you if they met you, you’re just gonna have to take my word on that, but even if they didn’t, you’d still be stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me.”

He smiled slightly, scratching at the stubble at his jaw.

“That’ll be an awful long time, Cor.”

“Will it, now?”

“Forever, most like. If I have my way.”

As he said it, he looked almost tentative – because it was one thing to say they were making a serious go of this, and it was another to say that. Those words of his had implications. The type that involved gold rings and wedding bells.

Cora grinned, and those blue-green eyes of his that had been inspecting her face for any hint of a negative reaction lit up as she replied.

“That works just fine for me.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, hiding his own smile. “Good. Go ahead and tell ‘er I said hi back, then. Better make a good first impression, if she's to like me when I meet 'er.”

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[petri808]

Day 7 @flufftober “fairy lights” Twiyor family AU drabble, Modern AU not canon

It’s not uncommon by the time children reach their teenage years for them to start preferring to hang out with friends over family time. But there is one thing that Anya had not grown out of yet, a special family outing they did each June when the fire flies came around.

They’d pack up a bunch of food and a big ‘ole blanket to relax on, then head over to a large park with a stream running through at sunset located far outside of the city. The air at that time of year was always a comfortable warmth, with little chance of rain, and clear open skies. Sort of the calm before the later summer storms rolled in.

They’d set up their blanket on a shorter patch of wild grasses to watch the sun setting while they eat dinner. An electric lantern provided a mellow glow. Conversations are light as each talk about their day or other topics. Loid talked about a new patient at the hospital he was helping and Yor about a new job she’d be starting in a week. It’s the first she’s had since they adopted their daughter.

Anya chattered about a movie her and her friends has seen the previous day, but mostly about school. At Eden Academy, the academics are brutally competitive, but were tolerable with her best friend, Becky Blackbell, at her side. Anya was also excited about it being her last term of 3rd year middle school. The two girls were looking forward to moving onto high school together along with the proms and annual excursions they’ll be taking.

“We’re supposed to go to Somisomi tomorrow for ice cream,” Anya told her parents. “Becky’s gonna pick me up at 11.”

“You sure?” Yor questioned. “I can drop you off.”

“Nah, it’s okay mom. Their driver—,” Anya sat up from laying on her back. “Sweet! The fire bugs are starting!”

Yor and Loid sat up as well. “So, they are.”

Anya laid back down with her head resting on her arms behind her head. “I wonder why they only come out during summer here?”

“Well,” Loid began, “in Japan some say they’re the ancestors returning to this world.“

“For Obon season?” Anya asked.

“Yeah.” Loid confirmed. “It’s a Shinto belief.”

“But there’s other folklore,” Yor added. “Didn’t I tell you about the fairy lights when you were little?”

Anya’s face scrunched as she thought hard. “Mmm, I don’t remember very well.”

Yor leaned back on her hand while pointing at a few fire bugs gently floating around the family. “In ancient times, people thought fire bugs were ethereal creatures, like fairies and the light they emit carried messages of love.”

“Fairy light,” Anya giggled. “I guess that makes sense.”

“There’s a story,” Yor continued, “of a fire fly princess who proclaimed they would marry the first suitor who could bring them fire. So, prince, after prince from creature kingdoms all throughout the lands tried to procure fire to win her hand, but all die in the process. This also lead to some equating fire flies as the carriers of a star-crossed lovers wishes. Finally, a fire fly prince from a nearby kingdom heard of the princesses proclamation and declared that he will win her hand. So, he marches over heading a battalion of soldiers, shining bright in all their lighted glory. The princess is so delighted to have found the one to bring her such a marvelous flame that they marry and live happily ever after.”

“Aww,” Anya rolls onto her side to face her parents. “That’s so sweet even though all those other princes were dumb to die for a princess.”

“I don’t know,” Loid teased and poked Yor’s shoulder. “I’d die for your mom.”

“Loid!” Yor blushed and slapped his shoulder back in jest.

“Why am I not surprised.” Anya laughed, then tapped her chin. “Maybe I’ll use this on Damian, tell him to bring me a flame to win my hand.”

“You’ll likely scare him away instead,” Loid teased. “That boy’s a bit wea…”

“Don’t!” Anya wagged a finger at her father, cutting him off knowing how he liked to tease her crush. “I know what you’re gonna say and I think—” Just as she’s about to defend Damian, a fire bug landed on finger, yet despite her shaking it doesn’t let go.

Yor chuckled, “Maybe Damian just sent you his message of love.”

[inventedfangirling]

this post is 100% a joke and none of it is to be taken seriously but WHAT if i let my imagination run wild and make up a buncha bogus clown predictions cos i need to get them out and i need sandray to be happy!?

i know it's silly to think about a possible happy ending for any of the three(or more) pairs in messy gays the show (idk who coined this but i love it and am copying it, thankyou) especially this early into it's run while we haven't even seen the half of it BUT i still want to put forward my two cents now so i can come back later and check this post out and laugh at how wrong i was. im going to go as wild as i possibly can (within the limits of the show) so i definitely will be going wrong. i can't wait to see just how wrong lmao.

lemme just put on my clown makeup real quick.

alright now that's done, without further ado.....

nick & boston

...are gonna blow the group up and mess everything up for everybody, they'll be fighting in front of everyone but they'll be in cahoots at some point, playing everybody off each other and then somehow riding off into the sunset with a buncha cash to a land where nobody knows them, boston is still sleeping around (i dont totally buy his words from the ep 5 preview) but so is nick now, finally having discovered the joys of non monogamy, the last shot is gonna be them setting foot in this imaginary land and its gonna be epic

sandray my beloveds....

....are gonna fall in and out of love one after the other, never at the same time ending in a huge fallout and they decide to part ways forever until fate (ray keeps showing up at places sand gets invited to sing at) intervenes and brings them back and gets them to fall in love at the same time once again and this time despite all the nickboston fuckery and every other mess the group gets to, they get together and decide to stay together, their last scene is ray taking sand to his mother's grave after having been proposed to on a beach or a boat (what up eclipse reference) and its gonna be so sickly sweet we wonder how we got here from where we started!

top & mew

i know im not writing a fic but its kinda similar so TRIGGER WARNING : mcd

ah topmew, ngl i have no fcking clue what these two are gonna be upto. i genuinely have no read on their future as a couple. it just doesn't seem plausible in the least. i wanna be dramatic and say top dies in a tragic fire accident that mirrors his childhood incident and mew gets his hotel business (this is real and i didnt dream this up right? i have a tendency to do that lmao) and he rescues a kitten and calls it mew and they live happily ever after or the kitten scratches him to death, eitherways i cant see them happier together than they were here in this silent disco scene, which could be surface level for all we've seen so thats them

cheum & april

these two are gonna show up together towards the middle of all the drama yell at all of them for being such dudes, dole out choice advice, leave until mess gets sorted and will bring everyone together for one last time during their wedding before they move away to another country, far away from the messy gays and their mess and then they'll write a story based on the messy gays and then sell the rights to a famous director duo and then they sit back and watch the money rolling in, happy, in love, and unbothered💅✨

[electricvinyls]

What would you do if in 1951 you were 47 years old and had committed 78 felonies and were on the run from the police and were gay and had gay romance with the president and your favorite animal was a giraffe and you went to a zoo with your gay president bf and you both stole a giraffe from the zoo and rode off into the sunset together and evaded police and lived happily ever after in the ocean?

@precumcookie can we do this? You have to become president but that shouldn't be that hard.

I NEED THIS!!

[f1byjessie]

hi lovely !!! loveeeed part 10 ! i’ve been in the thick of midterm hell recently, so it was so fun to read🥰i LOVE the direction u took with the tentative forgiveness - YES there is so much they still need to talk about and figure out, but ALSO they do need each other and the tentative moments make it sooooo good for the pining🤭and ugh oscar and his unending wise words🤌he’s such good middle ground for two people who feel so much so outwardly and feel all of that for each other !!!

and im sorry you’ve been ill :(( i hope you feel better soon !! don’t worry about the wait for this chapter, life is always getting in the way, i’m just happy i got to read it (and that this journey keeps continuing), and i’m suuuuuper excited for the part <3

First and foremost, I am so sorry that it took me so long to respond to this! 😭 I thought I was getting over my sickness, but either it got a second wind or I caught something else because I've been completely out of commission once again.

As for the events of part ten, I personally enjoy portraying people and relationships as realistically as possible. Obviously, part of the appeal of fanfiction is that it's fictional, and we can suspend our disbelief, which would make it very easy for me to say that this singular apology makes them best friends again, as if none of the conflict ever happened, and they run off into the sunset together and live happily ever after. But it's so much more fun, in my opinion, to build it back up gradually and have those pining will-they-won't-they moments that leave the reader on the edge of their seat.

Our dear Y/N still has a long road ahead of her as far as achieving that happily ever after, and likewise Lando still has some work to do if he wants to be a part of it.

With that said, I think you'll really enjoy what I have planned for the future of this story! Not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty proud of the plan I've made. It's a little clever and a little cheeky, in my opinion, so I hope it lives up to the hype I've created for it in my brain, haha!

That is, of course, if I ever actually feel well enough to keep writing 🥲.

But I digress! Best of luck on your midterms, I know those can be incredibly stressful, so please remember to take care of yourself! Treat yourself to a nice break afterward if you can! And thank you so so so very much for your kind words as always, and for being so understanding about the delays 🫶

[delilahcal]

part of her mystery is how she is calm in the storm but anxious in the quiet

stats.

full name: delilah jane calhoun (nee ricci) age: 32 date of birth: april 15th, 1991 astrology: aries sun, gemini rising, libra moon place of birth and current location: havenridge, nc residential area: etta's ranch gender: cis-female pronouns: she/her sexual orientation: bisexual occupation: english teacher at anchor bay academy

family.

mother: marion ricci ( nee foster ) father: joseph ricci significant other:: married to Hudson Calhoun.

personality.

Delilah was always wild and free from the very beginning of her life. She was the girl that wouldn’t sit still for anything and always on the move. Challenges were her specialty and she never backed down from an adventure. Her energy was unmatched and she was always the one that people talked about. She is completely down to earth and doesn’t take many things to heart but she will always be an advocate for people. She is completely loyal to a fault and even though she may not seem to let things bother her, she has one of the biggest hearts around. This girl will literally give the shirt off her back for anybody and not ask for a thing in return.

likes and dislikes.

Likes:  ballet, the feeling of shaved legs on fresh bed sheets, horror movies, the number 2, stargazing, old pickup trucks, the smell of fresh baked cookies, red lipstick, bubble baths, the color teal, sun rises and sunsets, long baths, white lilies Dislikes: birds, anything vanilla or cinnamon scented, gossip mills, the sound of chalk on a chalkboard, the way her body feels after working out

bio.

Delilah Ricci came into this world as a surprise to Marion and Joseph Ricci after years of trying for a child. Being the only daughter to an elementary school teacher and a ranch hand at Etta's Ranch, Delilah grew up more sheltered than she would have liked. She had always been a free spirit from the moment that she could walk, she was running and she never did as she was told. She wasn’t necessarily a problem child, but she had her own ideas and her own adventures that she wanted to have that her parents didn’t fully support. For as long as she could remember, she was itching to get out of this small town and into the worlds that she read about in books. The small town life was something that Delilah had grown fond of especially when her and Hudson had finally decided that they wanted to take their friendship to the next level. Growing up together, they spent a lot of time with each other and it wasn’t until they were in middle school that their feelings were confessed to one another. It felt like a movie, their relationship, and she was the happiest that she could have ever been. They were the envy of their friends and being each others high school sweethearts was inevitable; they were soulmates. Quickly after high school they got engaged and went off to college together where they got their first apartment together. Time seemed to pass by and before either of them knew it, they were getting married with their friends and family and their life started. She eventually fell pregnant with their daughter Alana and nine months later, they were a family of three. It was more than she had expected and they lived happily ever after. Until she fell pregnant again six years after having Alana. It was such an exciting moment until it ended way too soon. Delilah ended up miscarrying and having to have surgery which left her with only one Fallopian tube and the news that getting pregnant was going to be extremely difficult. This left her with a hole that she couldn't quite fill. She needed to get out of their town and with Hudson's blessing, she set off to find herself again. She explored the world and even had Hudson come with her to some of her trips. After a year, she decided it was time to come home and while she is still saddened by the news, she is happy to be home with her family.

[dreamofbecoming]

nsmLakdjdkal yesssssss

and ruin is them confronting the trauma of love run now that they’re in a more stable place, putting themselves back together, because riding off into the sunset and living happily ever after is only the ending in fairy tales, in real life you have to keep working!!!!!!

if we think of the three tad albums as a sequential story i am absolutely LIVING for the idea of them not being able to communicate properly in love run ("can't we just talk about this tomorrow" "i don't know how to reach you when you get like this" "not yet not yet not yet not yet") and progressing to loving dedication of both each other and themselves in the horror and the wild ("and she is stronger than he's ever been, he knows" "'cause you make me laugh when i'm actually really fucking cross at you for something" "how unreasonably in love i am with everything you do" "'i've seen enough," he says, "i know exactly what i want and it's this life that we've created, inundated with the fated thought of you'" "'you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not'" "by day, oh lord, three things i pray: that i might understand as best i can how bold i was, could be, will be, still am--by god, still am")

[pedrito-friskito]

safe and sound - javier peña x fem!reader

summary: after a long day on the ranch, javi just needs to feel you.

warnings: smut, fluff, javi being a softie, bathtime fun, unprotected p-in-v (wrap ur shit folks)

a/n: this falls into the same universe as my other javi peña oneshot - hiding my heart! I’ll have a masterlist up shortly 💕 (also I know it’s canon that his mother is dead but I decided for this series she isn’t so)

| main masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 |

Javi’s still getting used to your presence around the ranch. He still does a double-take when he finds a stack of your books on the coffee table where his mother’s knitting once lay. He’s still surprised when he opens a bathroom cupboard to find your perfume and eyelash curler sitting on the shelf that used to house his father’s aftershave. He nearly stops in his tracks when he goes looking for a t-shirt and finds your silky underthings tucked in the drawer.

It’s not even only your things around the ranch that throw him through a loop. His own truck looks out of place on the driveway. The keys hanging from hooks beside the door are not the worn lanyards that belonged to his parents. The pictures on the walls haven’t been replaced, but new ones have been added, new faces peering back at him. And he’s just not used to it all. Not yet.

He’s getting used to it, that much he knows. Having you around is the best thing that’s happened to him since he came from from Colombia. It makes him feel safe like nothing else has for a long time.

And at night? That’s when he feels it hit the hardest. That safety. That coming home. That belonging.

Running the ranch has been much more work than he ever bargained for, no matter how hard his father had drilled into him that it’s not easy work, Javi. You need to be tough, and you need to be strong.

And he has been. He’s tried his hardest to be. His hands are calloused beyond belief, his scalp caked in dirt at the end of every day, and his joints ache like he’s never felt before.

The animals are fussy some days. He spends a full week hunting down roaming sheep and corralling them back into their home. There’s a tire on the tractor that refuses to stay patched. He has to make three trips to the supply store to find the right feed for the horses because they’re apparently picky eaters and Javi didn’t even know a horse could be a picky eater.

It comes with it’s bright sides, though. The sunrises and sunsets that greet him each morning and bid him farewell every evening are beyond beautiful, rivalling even the prettiest nights he spent in Colombia.

One of the horses, who he’s affectionately renamed Steve, has taken to him, nickering happily whenever Javi walks into the barn. He’s especially happy if there’s an apple or a carrot waiting for him in the pocket of Javi’s coat. Simple thing. They spend most days together, riding through the land and making the rounds.

It’s a hell of a workout, never mind. His mother has stopped telling him he looks too skinny when he visits the home on Sundays. When he’d first returned, he was worried she was going to have a heart attack, crowing over him and begging him to eat more helpings at dinner. Now, he eats like a horse, clearing away plate after plate of whatever you’re serving. He’s gained muscle he didn’t know he was capable of having, the lines of his body growing thicker and leaner, that skinny DEA agent that combed through Colombia and lived off cigarettes and whiskey replaced with a certified cowboy.

It’s jarring, when he realizes. To see how much has changed — how much he’s changed — how much of his old life has moved aside to give way to this new one he’s building with you. He reaches for work gloves and a bridle instead of his badge and a gun. He pulls on boots and his father’s old work coat instead of tight jeans and a button-up.

(He keeps the button-ups, though. You’re not shy on telling him how much you like them, and he needs something for the nights he takes you out into town.)

Another one of the perks of the ranch? The way he gets to come home to you every night, and there’s only a short ride between the farmland and you. He’ll find you dancing around the kitchen or just coming in the door from your own day at work, hanging your keys by the door and stepping right out of your shoes and into his arms. On the weekends, he’ll only work half the day, maybe, rising earlier than you to get his chores done before returning to the house and slipping into the shower, where you join him more often than not.

In the week, you always ask him about his day, and he returns the question in kind. You chat for a while as you eat, the conversation usually carrying you past dinner and out onto the back porch, where you’ll lounge on the swing, your head tucked under his chin and Javi moving his hand up and down your arm, head tilted on yours, listening to the crickets and watching the stars up above.

On the weekends, when you find him hunched over his father’s desk, head bent over the books and accounts, it’s almost always the same. You know. You can read him like an open book, knowing exactly what he needs and when he needs it.

You’ll rest your hands on his shoulders, fingers digging in expertly, seeking out the knots that have formed in his muscles, kneading your thumbs into the base of his neck in a way that makes him close his eyes, a pleased growl working its way up his throat.

“You’ve been working too hard, cariño,” you whisper, leaning down so your mouth is right next to his ear, dropping your jaw so you can graze your teeth right over his lobe. It sends a chill shooting down his spine, one that turns to a shock of heat straight to his groin when you drag your lips down his neck. “Come take a bath with me.”

Javi’s never been one for baths. If he thinks hard, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken one since he was a kid. Bathing has always been about getting clean, not relaxing.

But you know how to do baths right. With your scented oils that make him realize why you always smell so damn good, and your lit candles around the tub’s edge. There’s not always bubbles, and Javi’s loathe to admit that he loves them. There’s just something about watching the foam slither down your body, that quiet noise of bubbles popping, the way it coats his hands as they roam your form.

Tonight, he’s feeling needy. He just wants to be close to you, and he’s been cursing the fact that it’s only Tuesday all day, that he can’t head back early and find you still laying in bed or sprawled on the couch with a book in your hand.

It was an easy day on the ranch, but the moment you’d walked in the door (after him, a rare occurrence), he’d been on you, wrapping his arms around your waist and following you around the house, taking your keys and your purse and putting them in their rightful places. You’d giggled and laughed and covered his hands with yours, twining your knuckles together. “Someone’s in a mood,” you’d chided, your tone half-teasing.

Javi had pushed his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume, potent as anything even after a full day, and nipped at your jaw. “Been missing you all day, querida,” he whispered, “couldn’t wait to get my hands on you.”

“Clearly,” you said, squeezing his hands before manoeuvring yourself around in his grip, turning so you were facing him, leaning in to kiss him softly. “How’s your shoulder?”

He’d grumbled about his sore muscles as he walked out the door that morning, rubbing his left arm with a grimace that had your eyes trailing after him. He was glad for the easy day of work, because it hadn’t bothered him much, but…

“So sore, baby,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Think I need a nice long soak.”

And you’d been more than happy to oblige.

Later that night, after you’d eaten, lavender-scented steam fills the bathroom, the water as high as it’ll go, and the two of you, naked as the days you were born, wrapped in each other beneath the bubbles.

You’d started behind him, his back resting against your chest and your arms wrapped around his neck. Your palms kneaded at his pecs, nose trailing along his neck as you dropped water across his skin, reaching up to wet the grown-out curls at the base of his neck. He’d revelled at your touch, at that feeling of safe, safe, safe, that seemed to spread from your fingertips and sink into the very marrow of his bones.

But, as it has from the moment he’d met you, from the first time he felt your lips on his, that deeper part of him, that unbridled attraction that he’s never felt for another person, comes to life.

He’s managed to flip you, sliding his body under yours until you’re sitting astride him. The water sloshes around the two of you, soaking the bath mat and your piles of discarded clothes, but neither of you really notice or care. He’s got one arm tight around you, holding your hips pinned to his, your wet body against him.

Slowly, carefully, he trails his hand up your front. The bubbles slide down his arm as it moves, slipping from his skin to yours, dripping off the curve of your breast and straight down your stomach. Javi just watches, silently, his head tilted to the side, brow so hard you reach a damp hand from his shoulder to his forehead, your thumb soothing the line between his eyebrows.

“So serious, cariño,” you whisper, the pad of your thumb swiping upwards over and over. “You’d think you’d look happier with a naked woman in your lap.”

He cracks a smile at that, and lifts his head to nip at your wrist. “Sorry, baby,” he whispers, adjusting you in his arms, one hand plunging beneath the water and curving around your thigh. “Too busy thinking about all the things I want to do to this beautiful naked woman in my lap.”

Javier swipes his thumb across your inner thigh, the water making the touch slicker. You move your hips forward, chasing his hand, but he pulls back, moving his grip toward your knee. He uses it to haul you closer, the distance between you vanishing, and your legs inch wider, thighs pressed to either side of the tub as he curls his wrist in, thumb now swiping along your folds. 

It makes your breath stutter. “Javi, I—” He’s not sure what you were going to say, but he stops you, thumb now pressed to your clit, drawing a tight circle as your body curls down over his. His other hand moves from chest up towards your neck, and he cups your cheek as your forehead falls against his.

“I told you, baby,” he murmurs, pushing his jaw forward so the words are spoken against your lips, “I couldn’t wait to get my hands on you. Been thinking about this all day.”

His cock is already stirring beneath the water, the keened breaths falling out of you and the way you keep whispering his name all it takes to have arousal rushing through his bloodstream. He keeps up the circles, the water easing his movements, and he feels your chest brush his, your peaked nipples dragging over his pecs as your hands settle in his hair, nails scraping his scalp.

“Thinking about what,” you whisper, and the huskiness in your voice makes Javier’s eyes roll back, “getting your hands on me or getting your fat cock in me?”

If there’s anything you do that drives Javier absolutely insane, it’s how filthy your mouth can get. He never would have guessed it, when you first started seeing each other, but now he’s thankful every time he has you that you can dish it as well as you can take it.

He adjusts his grip, feeling his cock harden, holding your hips between his hands and gliding you across his length. Water isn’t the best lubricant, but you’re a different kind of wet, and the glide makes his head tip back in your hands, mouth finding yours as you gasp out in pleasure.

“Always so ready for me, querida,” he murmurs, one hand slipping from your hip to your ass, delivering a quick slap that splashes water up your back. “Can I fuck you right here, baby? Please?”

He doesn’t have to keep guiding you any longer, your hips moving on their own, dragging your folds along him. You angle yourself just right, catching the tip of him at your entrance and sinking down in one fell swoop. The warmth of you makes him groan, the way your body stretches to accommodate every inch of him. Your nails dig into his scalp in the most pleasurable way, and Javier is the one gasping now, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as your hips settle on his.

“I’m the one on top,” you say, tilting your head to the side and dragging your mouth along his jaw. “Guess that means I get to fuck you.”

Any other day, and he’d let you. Any other time, and he’d let you ride him into oblivion, until every drop of water in the bath was on the floor, until you were both a spent mess against the tile. But not today. No, today he needs to fuck you.

You squeal in surprise as he curls both hands under your ass, slides his feet beneath him, and stands in the tub. Your limbs go frantic, hands scrabbling at his back and legs locking around his waist. It’s perfect, and he’s still buried inside you, the movement making him sink deeper, making your squeal end on a moan when his cock drags along that rough patch he’s become so well-acquainted with.

Javi drags his feet across the bathmat, making sure he won’t slip and drop you as he carries you out of the bathroom. Somewhere between the bathroom and bedroom, his cock slides out, making you whine, but the moment he’s over the threshold of the bedroom door, he’s pushing you against the wall, keeping you pinned with one arm and reaching between you to slip back into your drenched heat once more.

You clamp your jaw shut as he does it, a muffled moan caught behind your lips, and he starts to move, hips rolling into yours. He holds you with both hands now, fingers spread wide over each cheek, making you bounce on his cock as he thrusts up into you. Your mouth drops open again after a few more slides of his cock against that spot, your eyes fluttering shut as he keeps you pinned against the wall.

He can’t stop himself from looking down between your bodies, watching himself disappear inside you, his cock glistening with your slick. Your hands are in his hair again, pulling at the strands, tugging just like you know he likes it. “Javi, baby,” you groan out, head tipping back against the wall as he starts to fuck you harder, faster, eyes still glued to the place where you’re joined. “God, you fuck me so good.”

“Fucking right,” he grunts out, leaning forward until his forehead touches your chest. It obscures his vision slightly, replaced with the curve of your breasts, and he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin. He can feel it in the pit of his stomach, his own orgasm growing closer and closer with every thrust. But he can’t cum, not yet — he needs to feel you cum around him first. “Need you to cum, querida,” he grunts.

Wordlessly, you drag one hand from his hair to plunge two fingers into your mouth, giving him more than a show of your tongue dancing between your knuckles, soaking your index and middle fingers in saliva. Javier just watches, rapt as anything, as you pull them from between your lips and slip the hand between you two, starting to rub at your clit. It makes you clench down on his cock, making his vision tinge black at the edges.

He tears you away from the wall, lowering you onto the bed a moment later, grateful for the high mattress that puts you at the perfect level for him. He slams into you over and over, still watching, eyes darting from the movement of your hand against your clit, the way you throw your head back against the duvet, the thin skin of your neck practically vibrating with your pulse when he leans down to kiss it.

Javier rises up, gripping your hips, pulling you down onto his cock with every thrust of his hips against yours, and god damn it, he’s so close he can taste it. Gritting his teeth, he lowers himself again, his mouth close to your ear.

“You gonna cum for me, querida?” he croons, nipping at your earlobe. “I wanna feel that pussy squeeze me.”

That’s all it takes, apparently, because you’re seizing around him a moment later, his name tumbling from your lips on a high-pitched moan, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. And god, you go so tight around him that Javier can’t hold back anymore, his hips stuttering against you as his orgasm takes over, painting your insides with his spend and his face buried in your neck as it spreads through his body.

Once you’ve both had a moment to catch your breath, he pulls out of you with a wince, flopping beside you on the bed. Your lashes flutter for a few moments, and then you’re leaning over to press a soft kiss to his lips before you disappear back towards the bathroom.

Javier cleans himself up while you’re gone, pulls the sheets back on the bed and puts on a fresh pair of boxers. He’s getting into bed when you return, still stark naked, your hair now piled atop your head. He just watches as you cross to the dresser, pulling out a pair of cotton panties and stealing one of his t-shirts from his drawer.

It strikes him then, how everything just fits. You know where everything is, your things interspersed with his. Your movements are confident through the house, not tiptoed like you might disappear at any given moment. Your life is mixed with his, on this ranch you’ve decided to call home. It’s comforting, knowing that you’ve fit yourself in with him just like he has with you. It feels safe, and he hasn’t felt that for a long time.

“What are you looking at, cariño?” you ask, and the corner of Javi’s mouth quirks, both at the notion that you caught him staring, and the learned endearment falling from your lips. You circle around to your side of the bed, climbing beneath the sheets with him, and Javi gathers you into his arms, pressing his mouth to the crown of your head.

“You,” he murmurs into your hair, his body sagging with relief, the safe feeling seeping into his muscles and bones and making him feel at ease. “Always you.”

—————

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javier peña tags: @iamskyereads @ancientbeing10 @saintmurd0ck @woomen23 @plutoneu @pedropascalsx @allfoolsinluv @maddiewinchester @winchestershiresauce @minxsblog @bluestuesday @i-simp-much @trickstersp8 @kirsteng42 @lovesbiggerthanpride @beskarprincessjenny @loonymagizoologist @mashomasho @greeneyedblondie44 @tanzthompson @fiscinthirst @mswarriorbabe80 @vickytogisa @dead-pool-simp @ruhro7 @thevoiceinyourheadx @alyona-romanova @littlemisspascal @mrssarahpaulsooonn