babygirl, just want to say your writing rocks ! And if you can do a imagine
which Y/N went on a run without Daryl (maybe with Maggie and Rick) and she
found a beautiful black lingerie and “surprise” Daryl 😁😁❤. Just
a thought but would be sweet!
Summary: Reader goes on a run with Maggie and Rick and finds lingerie.
She takes it home to surprise Daryl. Pre-Negan. Season 5/6. Alexandria. Hope I
got this one right! :) Smut Alert.
“Be careful, Y/N.” Daryl says.
You roll yours in response, “I
know… Dad.” You mock him a little and laugh at him playfully.
“This ain’t no joke, Y/N. I ain’t
gonna be there to protect ya… Be. Careful.” He looked at you with serious but,
You smile sweetly back at him and
lean up and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll be back before you know
it.” You say softly, as you reach up to caress his cheek with your hand.
He closes his eyes and nuzzles
into your hand a minute before he looks back at you, now with only worry.
He moves his hand over to put it
on your cheek, mirroring your action, looking into your eyes a moment before swooping
over and landing his lips on yours for a short passionate kiss.
probably not the lunarry fic i was planning but here we go, life ruining and all.
(luna is in italic, harry is in bold.)
luna hates yelling.
harry cusses all the time for no reason.
like when he walked through the door of their shared cottage in the middle of the woods shouting, “fuck!”
“harry please, you don’t have to use that kind of language.”
“i’m sorry, love. i had a really bad day.”
“it’s alright, i’m going out to the garden.”
“i’ll meet you out there.”
harry loved watching her tend to the garden outside.
it was relaxing for him. he said she looked like a fairy with her curly platinum blonde hair and yellow sundress, while the sun gave her pale skin an ethereal glow.
occasionally, he’d give her a little whistle when she bent down to check for weeds around the roots of her dirigible plum trees.
luna tried to ignore his sexual comments, but inevitably giggled softly and turned around shake her head at him.
“do you need something?”
“i’m bored, give me something to do!”
“here, come water the blackberries.”
“you’re so childish.”
“says the woman who tricked me into a kiss using nargles.”
she smiled, thinking back to hogwarts.
before the battle, when their relationship was only a close friendship.
they understood each other. they’d both lost people.
harry talked about his parents, sirius, how he missed them.
they would sit by the lake as he showed her the few pictures he had of them. she said they were beautiful, like recently bloomed flowers.
“they look so happy, but you can tell something isn’t right.”
“look in your father’s eyes. he’s sad. he knows what’s ahead. knows he has to fight. and they did. they fought for you, harry potter.”
“how do you do that?”
“read me, like we’ve known each other our whole lives.”
“it’s easier to read someone when you feel strongly for them.”
“you, feel strongly…for me?”
“i would say so. you’re kind, brave, care for others, although you can be a bit oblivious when it comes to feelings and you’re horrible with girls. but it’s charming, in a way. and you don’t make fun of me. you don’t call me loony. that’s why i wanted to be your friend in the first place.”
they started visiting hogsmeade together.
harry would sneak off from ron and hermione to meet luna near the back of the three broomsticks.
sometimes they’d walk near the edge of the lake.
luna liked to watch the water ripple as she dipped her toes in the shallow area, where waves washed up onto dirty sand. harry watched her shoes, he promised he’d make sure the nargles wouldn’t take them.
“protect my shoes.”
“harry, do you believe in nargles?”
“i…i don’t know.”
“then why did you agree?”
“because if there’s no proof they do exist, then there’s no proof they don’t.”
luna gently leaned forward, lightly pressing her lips to his.
“thank you. for giving me a chance.”
“i- you’re welcome.”
he watched her walk back towards the lake, water rushing around her feet.
luna’s hair was pulled into alow ponytail and went down to her waist. she used the shorts she was wearing to her advantage and walked a few more steps into the water. the soft waves now went up to her ankles but she turned around to have a seat on one of the rocks by the shore.
harry picked up luna’s black flats and went to sit by her on the stones.
he placed the shoes behind them and looked up to face the sun.
it was warm. oddly warm for april in scotland.
this felt nice. him and luna.
she was short, thin, highly intelligent, and completely herself. she wasn’t afraid to be someone the rest of the world wouldn’t accept. she was beautiful. with her eyes closed and body shifting to lay down on the flat boulder, half embedded in the ground. with her clever mind and odd radish earrings.
before harry had time to look away she opened her eyes, smiling dreamily. he’d been caught.
luna happily took his hand in hers, gently rubbing his knuckles.
he blushed and, with all the gryffindor courage he could muster, interlaced their fingers.
but suddenly, he heard a familiar voice shout his name.
it was ron, they were looking for him.
harry swiftly jumped away from luna, as to appear like they were only chatting. he hopped off the rock and yelled for his friends, saying a rushed goodbye to silver-eyed blonde.
“i’m sorry, i-”
“i know. goodbye, harry potter.,”
luna was snapped back to reality when harry began to water her feet.
“honey, i’m not a blackberry.”
“you’re as sweet as one.”
harry plucked a daisy from her garden and placed it behind her ear.
his past relationships, before getting together with luna five years after the war, hadn’t been like this. those women were giggling school girls. luna was a dreamer, a romantic, and the kindest person he’d ever met. she went vegan at nine because she was afraid the neighbor’s dogs wouldn’t like her anymore if she supported meat consumption. she started recycling from a young age because she thought the clouds of pollution in the sky were ugly. she got him to expand his boundaries by cycling to the farmer’s market and other places close by, instead of apparating. (apparently, it was bad for him to use magic for everything.) she taught him how to prepare nutritional meals, how to ride a bike, hence the cycling, but most importantly she taught him to let go.
he didn’t have to save the world to help others.
he could do something as simple as help someone with their groceries or sign a petition for animal rights or maybe even forgive an old enemy.
“i think you should talk to draco.”
“it’s been years since, then, and he’s with hermione now…so i think you should make an attempt at friendship?”
“don’t you sigh at me. come on, we’ve got brunch plans in two hours at this lovely little diner in the city.”
“you…you already planned something; with him.”
“yes, because i knew you would never agree to it on your own. therefore, i did something that’s good for you.”
BRAND NEW SWA #CC for #thesims4 ! Im working on a full Coffeeshop Set that includes signs and clutter and will be released very soon! .
OH MY GOSH this mesh took me literally 8 hours!!! to make lol . I started off completely clueless on mesh making and I feel like a pro now that i was able to Actually pull off creating a 3d sign .. lol i’m so proud now that the hardest bit is over! The rest should be easy so expect the release of the full set sometime in the next week!
Don’t forget to follow me so you don’t miss out on the release!
After you met Sam, operation Save the Blanks was underway. You and Sam managed to introduce your blanks to some of the Deaf community on campus. While some of your friends did not find their soul mates, a few did and for once the entire campus seemed happy.
The happiness spread through midterms and by the time of Thanksgiving Break newly found soul mates decided to spend the long weekend together. Sam sent you a goofy smile as you carried a suitcase into his apartment. He had explained to you early on that he lived above a bookstore in an apartment to avoid possible torment by a roommate. That isn’t to say he didn’t have one, his best friend Charlie lived with him, also deaf. From what he told you, Charlie was red and slender, with quite an artistic gift.
Sam carried your suitcase to the guest room, leaving you in the living room. Charlie wasn’t home yet, so Sam decided to wait on dinner but popped some popcorn instead. You grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and plopped down on the couch beside him. He licked his lips, watching as your shirt rode up slightly. Nudging him playfully, you signed, "Which movie are we watching?”
An adorable noise left his lips, a chuckle you assumed. Turning on the DVD player, he handed you the case, his eyes looking brown because of his dark hoodie. Silence of the Lambs. You tried holding back your laughter, but failed as Sam looked at you eagerly for approval.
He opened his mouth, signaling he would speak. “To-o corn-ny?” Sam even shoved you the bowl of popcorn, another ripple of laughter spilling from your stomach. Pulling you closer to his side, Sam pressed a soft kiss on your temple playing with your hands.
As the movie played on, you heard the door knob unlock as did Bones. Bones perked up going toward the door. Sam glanced at a small computer like device that showed the outside of the apartment. A beautiful, tall, slender girl with shining red strands entered the apartment.
Sam paused the film, getting up to open the door. His smile reached his eyes and you tried to ignore the worry in your pit. Bones wagged his tail and pranced to the kitchen while the girl carried in grocery. She and Sam signed much faster than you ever could and it was when she grabbed a beer and sat in a bean bag beside the couch, you knew she was Charlie.
It killed you, she was perfect. Everything about her complimented Sam and it was hard for you to ignore the fact that she had uncharacteristic of Sam words on her wrist. Sam noticed your apprehension and slowed the signing down. Charlie had said she was happy for Sam, but you were so short. Taken a back, you crinkled your nose. Her eyes widened as she quickly add, “I meant that nicely. I love short girls.”
You furrowed your brow but then let out a sigh of relief, blushing with embarrassment. Moving your hand from your lips outward, you signed a thank you. She winked and sipped her beer. Your anxiety slowed as Sam kept rubbing your shoulder, offering small nuzzles of his fuzzy lips against your cheek.
Later that first night, Sam shuffled out of bed, peeking into the guest room. A blue light from the computer illuminated your face as you watched another signing video. He knocked softly but you did nothing. Entering the room, he approached you seeing ear buds snug in your ears. Tapping your shoulder, he pulled an earbud out sensing the loud vibrations.
“Are you trying to go deaf?” A teasing smile followed.
Your lips twitched in a stutter as you slowly signed back to him, “No, but I wanted to try and understand how it feels.”
Sam slowly scooped you up, placing you on the bed. He curled up, making himself slightly smaller against you. You were about to sign goodnight when Sam softly pressed his lips against yours, and yeah, it was way better than signing good night.
welcome to new york is for the modern day explorers armed with polaroid cameras and endless optimism and trying to make everything into an adventure even if you are just going out for groceries and bright neon signs and glossy magazines and walking through a crowd and realising that you are just a background character in someone else’s story and collecting maps and tickets and tacky memorabilia from every city you visit
blank space is for the guests of life’s great masquerade ball and their forced smiles and private journals and the string of pearls caught around their necks like a noose and airport waiting lounges and holding a stranger’s gaze in public and for just a moment imagining a world where you stop them in the street and talk to them and stopping for an espresso at inner city cafes and deep red lipstick and walking with your head held just a little higher because you know you look good today
style is for the unlikely girl gangs and the photos you take in bathrooms on nights you hardly remember and effortlessly messy hairstyles and the stillness and silence in the air when you walk around at night time and screenshots of old text conversations and stumbling home when your family is already asleep and making extra effort to let people know what they’ve been missing and the traditional melancholy of a drive home from a concert
out of the woods is for the daydreamers sprawled on top of freshly changed bedsheets and staring at the imperfections of your bedroom ceiling and worrying about the past and the future more than the present and flowers and patterns and stars in the margins of lined paper and dancing past the point of feeling tired when you can feel nothing but the music and that feeling of missing a step on the stairs that wakes you up when you are only half asleep and old bookshops and tiny house plants and the realisation that you have fallen into a routine
all you had to do was stay is for everyone checking their phone every three minutes for a message they know is never coming and 11.11 wishes and realising that some people have little parts of you that you can never get back and long lazy sundays alone and staring out of the window on public transport and making up stories about the people you pass and wanting to tell someone something and remembering that you don’t speak anymore
shake it off is for the ones who are starting again and your already forgotten new years resolutions and to do lists and never truly knowing what other people are thinking about you but not letting it worry you and wearing clashing colours and laughing at your own insecurities and singing really loud in the car with the windows rolled down and pink lemonade and not saving nice clothes for special occasions and smiling with your teeth and multicoloured strings of fairylights
i wish you would is for unconventional lovers who are slightly crooked and never fit the mould and that feeling of clarity you sometimes only get at 2am and wishing and hoping and putting all your faith into shooting stars that are probably just planes passing overhead and all the lights of the city and the way they blur when you drive really fast into the heart of it all and every soft shimmering person you let slip through your hands like smoke and the ones who shine so bright today but could be gone next time you open your eyes
bad blood is for those who can’t say certain names because they leave a bad taste in their mouths and leather jackets and friendship bracelets beginning to unravel and doing things just to spite those who said you couldn’t and missing someone you know you shouldn’t even think about and photographs ripped in half and laddered tights and waiting on an apology and thinking of a clever comeback three hours too late
wildest dreams is for the cynical hopeless romantics who’s head and heart are constantly are war and looking at the moon and realising that everyone looks up at the same sky and mentally taking a photograph because no camera can do a moment justice and the fear of slowly being forgotten and the need to leave not a mark on this world but a stain and falling in love just a little bit with anyone who’s even the slightest bit nice to you and family heirlooms and keeping others people’s clothes
how you get the girl is for anyone who deserves a second chance and confetti and soft pink chapstick and renting dumb romcoms to watch under four blankets and coffee shop encounters with strangers and home baking with someone you care about who has flour in their hair and 1950s love songs and pretending you’re not staring at someone and the moment you realise your heart isn’t broken it was just under repair
this love is for the children of the sea who got washed up by the tide and spend all their lives trying to get back and candles at dusk and anything vintage and lacy and driftwood and holding your breath without realising and letting people float away from you because you don’t want to trap them like butterflies behind glass and messages in bottles that never reach their destinations and being asked by adults what you want to do with your life and not having an answer
i know places is for the star crossed lovers who have all the odds against them and suddenly feeling like your life is a movie and having a soundtrack playing in your head and being the underdog and secret handshakes and private jokes and all black ensembles and meeting someone’s eyes across the room and it feeling like home and walking walls instead of pavements and fairytales that sort the world into good and evil and feeling invincible and being short of breath because you’re trying to laugh and run at the same time
clean is for those who became the hero of their own story and who greet each morning with a small smile because they weren’t sure they’d ever see it and scrapbooks of all the people you’ve ever been and jewelry from people you used to love that you don’t wear any more but can’t throw away and tear-streaked cheeks and hand written notes and floral soaps and being treated like you might break and the music he didn’t like but you did and waking up at the right time without your alarm and dressing in metallics and sheer blouses