population-signs

Book drive for school of robotics team champs!

Hey friends! Like me, many of you were horrified by this news report:

http://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/nation-now/2017/03/17/robotics-competition-racism/99301384/?hootPostID=55f1203864224e186b5ee6d36938c0a1

We want to show love for this school and their outstanding robotics team in the form of a book drive. This is a Title 1 school with a very diverse population. Authors, you can sign books to Pleasant Run. Anyone else who can donate is much appreciated! Picture books, early readers, chapter books, and middle grade books most welcome, especially those written by and featuring people of color. Also early readers in Spanish would be a bonus as they have dual immersion language program for some kindergarten classes. Mail books to:

Pleasant Run Elementary

1800 N Franklin Rd

Indianapolis, IN 46219

If you have books more appropriate for middle or high school, this diverse district would love those too! Mail to :

Metro School District of Warren Township
975 N. Post Road
Indianapolis, IN 46219
ATTN: Kathy Disney

Thank you! And congrats to the robotics team at Pleasant Run. You inspire us!

Drive through the South and Midwest long enough, and you’ll start to see signs like:

BONERTOPOLIS: Population 872 – 1996 Girls’ Jr. High Volleyball Regional Champions

The town’s name is obviously made up (though when I finally build my own town, that’s what I’m calling it), but the rest of that information is not. If your local sports teams – and by that, I mean junior high and high school – wins any sort of championship, your town will honor you by putting that information on the road sign. And that shit stays there forever.

Your town becomes known for that, even if the championship was 30 years ago. My original hometown had won four state championships: two in the 1970s and two more in the 1980s. For each year, a picture of the team was blown up to 10 feet wide and hung side by side on the gymnasium’s wall. Those four, massive, black-and-white photos loomed over everyone while we played dodge ball in PE. Judging us. Condemning us.

5 Parts Of Small Town Life That We Swear To God Are Real

You Want Better? – Part 2

(DARYL X READER)

Summary: I made a second part to this because I wanted to. Sort of felt like resolving the Rick-ness of it all. Daryl and the reader begin to sneak around and see each other, they go on a run with the group and Rick confronts the reader about his feelings and the reader has to decide between Rick or Daryl. I really love jealous Daryl. Smutty Daryl x Reader Goodness.

Warnings: Smut

—–

You and Daryl began to sneak around regularly after the night by the campfire, neither one of you said the word, “dating,” but you both knew you didn’t want anyone but each other.

You smile at him as you both walk through the woods, side by side. He looks over at you and smiles back, taking your hand in his, as you both walked at the rear of the group. You, Daryl, Rick, Shane, Andrea, and T-Dawg were out on a run, trying to find some supplies to bring back to Hershel’s farm. Rick figured it would be a good sign of faith and it might convince Hershel to let you all stay. You were doubtful, but as you looked into Daryl’s eyes you thought to yourself that anywhere he was would be just fine with you. Whether that be on the farm or on the move again, it didn’t matter.

You snap out of your trance and look forward to see that the group had stopped at the edge of the woods, on the other side of the clearing you could make out a small town, you had arrived at your destination. As you look up toward the direction you and Daryl are walking, you see Rick put his arm in the air, putting his finger up, signaling for the group to halt.

Everyone stopped and watched Rick as he turned around with serious eyes, to give commands to his group. He looks around at everyone, putting his hands on his hips, getting ready to speak. His eyes scan the group and see you and Daryl in the very back a few feet away from everyone else, he looks down and notices that Daryl is holding your hand. He looks back up and looks in your eyes with something that looked like shock. You feel your entire body vibrate as he stared at the two of you in dismay. Does he fucking have to? You thought to yourself, trying to make yourself angry and push those old feelings for Rick away.

Rick’s eyes move to your hands intertwined again, Daryl pulls your hand toward him harder and pulls you a little closer to his side. This causes Rick to look up at Daryl, who is staring him down harshly. Rick nods to himself a little, clenches his jaw and looks away, focusing on the group ahead of you two.

“Alright, you know the drill. In and out quickly, you see a walker you do whatever you can to kill it. Let’s go in groups of three. Shane take T-Dwag and Andrea…” He pauses a little and stares back at you and Daryl, pushing emotion away from his eyes. “Daryl and Y/N, your with me.” Rick said shortly, turning his back again quickly motioning for everyone to start their descent onto the town.

You look over at Daryl, a little nervously, after that display of dominance you didn’t really know how Daryl would react. Not to mention that pesky feeling in your stomach you felt every time Rick looked at you. Daryl looked at you, noticing your worried eyes on his. He smiled softly and leaned over to kiss you gently, brushing his lips softly against yours for just a moment. You close your eyes at the feel of his lips, you could never get enough of his kisses, for a moment you forgot your worry. As his lips detach you open your eyes, smiling a little now.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be good, baby.” He said to you a low voice, leaning back down to quickly kiss you again.

Before he can pull away you reach you left-hand up the nape of his neck and to his hair, you push his head towards yours, pushing his lips into you further. He growled a little and slowly plunged his tongue into your willing mouth. You moan a little feeling his tongue inside you, suddenly feeling that familiar need for him to be all over you.

You hear someone’s throat clear and your stomach drops. Shit. You forgot where you were. You try and pull away, but Daryl snakes his right-hand up your neck and mimics your actions, pushing your head into his, not allowing you to let go just yet. He sucked and swirled around your tongue deeply, crashing his lips onto you over and over. You moan out into him again, in a trance by his actions. That fucking tongue. You thought to yourself as you melted into him.

After a minute of fucking your mouth with his tongue, Daryl finally let go, slowly backing away from you, still staring into your eyes. He is very well aware that Rick has been watching this whole time, in fact he was fucking counting on it.

You slowly open your eyes after one of the best kisses to date from Daryl and hazily look at him smiling. Daryl smirks and grabs your hand again, pulling you both back toward the town, shoulder to shoulder. Daryl looks straight into Rick’s eyes, who looks like someone had just punched him in the gut. Daryl smirks and nods his head toward Rick.

“We’re ready. Let’s go.” He said flatly.

You looked at Rick and let your eyes drop to the ground as Daryl spoke. You felt your face get hot with embarrassment but you couldn’t deny that you didn’t ever regret the way Daryl made you feel, unlike Rick.

Rick clears his throat, nods his head, and turns around walking toward the town.

Daryl looks at you and smiles cockily. You roll your eyes and place your head on his shoulder for a moment as you both walk towards town.

“You got your knife, Y/N?” Daryl asked, making sure you were prepared for the scene ahead.

You chuckle a little, taking your head off of him and using your free hand to snake to your right side and pull your favorite knife out of its holster. You grin at him and shove it back in its place.

He nods and smiles at you before turning his attention toward the task at hand. He drops your hand and looks at you as you clear the woods and feel your feet hit the tar road that lead into town.

“Stay with me at all times and be careful.” Daryl growled in a low voice, motioning for you to stay behind him.

You comply and drop behind him to flank him on his right side. You see Daryl unsling his crossbow and hold it up, using it as a scope for danger as he scans the area all around you two before starting forward on the road. You draw your knife in response, scanning the area behind you to, putting your back to Daryl’s for a moment. You turn slowly back around, hearing the heel of your boot slowly groan as you twist it into the tarred surface. You turn back around to flank Daryl, walking cautiously forward behind him.

Rick waits for you two to catch up to him and you both reach him, under the population sign, he nods to Daryl asking if he is ready, Daryl nods shortly back. Rick looks at you, looking down for a second and then looking back up at you and nods, you nod in response, trying to keep your eyes hard. Rick silently motioned you to the right side of the street, filled with houses. You can see Shane’s group making their way into the first house on the left side of the road.

Rick runs quietly up to the front door of the first house, checking the lock with his left hand, his wedding ring glistened as the sunlight hit is for a moment, blinding you a little. You laugh a little wryly to yourself at this, trying to hide it from Daryl. Rick finds the door is unlocked and he slowly opens it with his hand, pushing it open. He pushed his back to the wall beside the door for a moment, awaiting to see if anything would come out at him. Nothing. Rick walked in to the doorway of the house about three feet in, holding his gun in the air. He surveyed the space with his gun for a moment, before relaxing his hands and turning around to face you two on the street. He nods and motions to you both, telling you it is safe.

Daryl nods and starts to walk toward the door of the house, never lowering his bow. He walks right past Rick, with you a few feet behind. You follow Daryl inside and feel Rick close behind you. Daryl stops at the end of the hallway, causing you to stop shortly, Rick bumps into your back a little as you do this. He stands into you for a few seconds too long, you slowly move your feet forward a couple of steps, breaking contact. You can feel him breathing on your neck as you feel his eyes on you. You turn your head slightly, wanting to look back at him, but not allowing yourself to. Instead you turned your head back toward Daryl’s back and tried to ignore Rick’s breath on you.

Daryl looked back at you and whispered, “Stay here,” to you in a serious tone as he darted to the left, scoping out the living room. You didn’t move and neither did Rick, as if he knew what he was doing was having an effect on you. You stand in the hallway and see Daryl walk across your view again, this time toward the kitchen.

You hear Daryl’s big footsteps dart around from room to room as you feel Rick’s breath on you. Daryl walks upstairs to check the rooms on the second floor and you feel Rick step closer to you, pressing ever so slightly into your back again. You turn your head slightly, but still do not give in to his gaze. You feel his right hand come up and rub the small of your back a little, putting his lips right up next to your ear as he leaned in to you.

“I know you feel that.” He says in a low whisper, not wanting Daryl to hear.

Your breath hitches feeling his breath and his words in your ear. You say nothing. He continues to rub on you, slowly moving his hand to your side and to your stomach rubbing slightly. Your hair stands up and you get goosebumps. You feel your eyes begin to close at the feeling of him when you remind yourself what the hell was happening.

Your eyes snap open and you smack his hand away from yours. You step forward further into the hall, forcing yourself to turn around and look at Rick.

“You’re fucking married Rick, don’t.” You say sternly, trying to hold a serious gaze.

His eyes fall to the floor ashamed for a moment, before sheepishly raising his eyes with his head still hanging.

“What if I wasn’t?” He asked, staring into you.

You ignored the flip your stomach did, this was everything you had wanted from Rick for so long, since the first time you’d met him. Why did he have to do this to you now? When you finally had something good with someone? You are lost in your thoughts when you hear Daryl’s loud footsteps come crashing down the stairs. You turn back around and face Daryl, pushing all thoughts of what had just happened aside.

“Anything?” You ask him.

He shakes his head no and looks at you in relief, before heading for the kitchen.

“Come on. Let’s get to work.” He said and you all went about scavenging from room to room of the house. You repeated this pattern until you had scavenged what you could from all of the houses on your side of the street. Killing what few walkers were found in, quietly.

All three of you panted heavily as you carried your full packs full of supplies to the middle of the street, where Shane, T-Dwag, and Andrea were waiting, also carrying their heavy packs.

Rick nodded to the other group, “Let’s make our way back.” He said turning his heels and clicking his boots down the tar road and back to the woods where you came from. You all turn and follow suite. Shane catches up with Rick at the front, followed by T-Dawg and Andrea in the middle, followed by you and Daryl in the back.

Daryl slung his crossbow in place on his shoulder and began to walk down the road, staring straight ahead, concentrating on the scene, making sure he could keep you safe if anything should jump out at you. You walked side by side with Daryl, absentmindedly going over the words Rick had said to you back there.

After a while you notice Daryl staring down at you and you whip your head up quickly to give him a smile. He smiled back softly and took your hand in his again, this time with a gentle, loving touch. You stared into his eyes for a moment, lost in his perfection, he always knew how to remind you right where you wanted to be. You sighed happily and returned your gaze toward the road. He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, swaying your arms, as he walked you both back home.

The walk home was quiet, no body saying too much, everyone was tired. You felt your legs groan and ache as you made your way back to the farm, through the woods. By the time you saw the farm in the distance, you were ready to kiss the ground, you had never been more happy to see the place. You tug at the heavy pack on your back and dig your heels in, focusing on the short way you had to go before you could sit.

You walk through the big meadow, trudging through the grass, as you all make your way across to Hershel’s farm. You reach Daryl’s tent first and you groan, wishing you didn’t have to trek the supplies all the way up to the house before stopping.

Daryl stops and drops your hand, he looks at you, “Give me that.” He said nodding to your backpack. You nod and swing the bag off your shoulders, you bring it over to Daryl’s open hand and he grabs it. You sigh in relief, finally feeling free. He slugs the bag easily over his other shoulder, placing it next to the strap of his crossbow, as he carries his bag on the opposite shoulder. He adjusts, making sure the load he carries is evenly weighted.

You stare up at him gratefully as you catch your breath. He leans down and kisses you shortly on the forehead, before returning to his stance.

“Why don’t you go rest a bit. I’ll bring this stuff up.” He says nodding his head up, almost commanding you.

You smile smally, he knew you well, you nod in agreement.

“Thanks, Baby.” You say sweetly and reach up, putting both your hands on the sides of his face before pulling his lips onto yours for a short kiss.

“Hurry back.” You say with a devilish grin.

He smirks with lust forming in his eyes. He nods again, this time more urgently, and licks his lips.

“I will.” He says, moving the bags around on his shoulders one more time before turning and walking towards the house, lugging your pack along with his. You stared at his big, muscular arms and broad back as you watched him walk off. Your eyes trace down his back to his great ass, you bite your lip and sigh in frustration.

Your body reminds you how tired you are and you slump toward Daryl’s tent, a place you had been spending most of your nights, and when you could most your days. You walk into his tent and begin to unbutton your jeans, you wiggle out of them, kicking them away to the corner. You unclasp your bra under your shirt and pull the straps out one by one, arm by arm, before reaching under your shirt and pulling the bra out and off of you. You smile at the feeling of freedom. You yawn and stare at Daryl’s sleeping bad and pillow, you notice Daryl’s poncho next to the makeshift bed and smile, you walk over to it and pull off your shirt, leaving you nearly naked. You pick up the poncho and pull it over your naked breasts. You giggled to yourself as you imagined Daryl’s reaction when he came back.

You crawled under the sleeping bag, pulling the cover up over your body. You snuggled into the pillow moaning a little as you enjoyed the feeling of the soft feathers under your head. You loved the warmth and comfort of the bed and Daryl’s fabric draped over your body. You couldn’t wait until you felt his arms around you again. You smiled at the thought, drifting off to sleep.

—–

You awaken sometime around dusk, seeing the light is starting to slowly fade, through the tent’s fabric. You feel an arm wrapped around you as you slept on your side, toward the inner fold of the sleeping bag, wrapped in Daryl’s poncho. You feel Daryl’s body pressed against your back in the sleeping bag with you. You smile sleepily and moan out stretching your arms up. You turn your body around to lay on your back while Daryl’s hand slips over to rest its palm on your stomach, in response. You pull the blanket slightly away from your body, only leaving your lower half covered.

You look up at him, noticing he is awake and looking down at you with his hand propped up on his shoulder, resting on his side. He looks at you with a smile, his hand rubs over your stomach slowly, over his poncho. He looks you up and down a few times, finding your eyes again, smirking.

“You look so fucking good in my poncho, Y/N.” He said, looking down at your half naked body. You feel his bare foot and one of his legs, trapped inside his jeans, come up to the bare skin on your thighs. He rubs his leg onto yours and his feet graze down your naked calves. His hand traces down your stomach to your hips, and down your thigh. He growls feeling your bare skin under his touch. He trails his hand back up you, sliding this time slightly over your core, before returning to your stomach. He plunges his hand under his poncho and up your skin until he reaches your bare breasts. He uses his one hand to massage the right one roughly and then the left one.

“Yes!” You cry out to him, shooting your head back, loving the feeling of his touch on your naked body.

Your hips arch up a little as he caresses you roughly under the fabric.

“So ready for me.” He says, as he watches your hips thrust up and down at the feel of his hands on you. His hands move back down to your stomach and rub around your navel a few times and then moves to the side of your right hip, rubbing it roughly, causing you to arch up into his hand again. He smiles watching you love the pressure he was putting onto you. He watched you writhe in pleasure, with your eyes closed on the pillow. He moved his hand slowly to your stomach again and slowly rubbed his palm across the waistline of your panties.

“Daryl!” You cry out, feeling yourself getting wetter for him with every touch. You ached for his hand to move just a few inches further, you ached for him in every way. You cry out to him again and then you feel his palm move down, fingers first, down your core. He pushes pressure into you as he moves his hand down, making you feel so good. You buck your hips into his hand, holding yourself into him hard, his palm slightly pushed up and down your clit for a moment before moving down slightly. You feel his index and middle finger move to the side of your panties and tug them over, allowing him access to you. You open your legs to his fingers and moan as he slowly pumps those two fingers inside you, slowly pumping into you.

“Baby, that feels so good!” You commend him and his fingers thrust into you further and faster.

He looks down at you as his fingers fuck you, you writhe into his hand, with your eyes closed and biting your lip, trying not to scream.

“Go ahead darlin. I don’t care if anyone hears us. Do you?” He asks in a husky tone, wanting to hear you scream out for him.

You stop for a moment, seeing Rick’s face in your head, you push it away and force your eyes open, locking them on the man who made you feel so good. You being to feel his pleasure again as you stare into his eyes, you shake your head no and put your hands on his face, pulling his lips into yours for a short rough kiss. You let go, but he pushes his head back into yours and roughly slams his tongue back into your mouth sucking on it harshly. He detaches with meaning, staring down at you.

“I want you to scream my name. Make sure everyone knows who makes you feel so good.” He says fucking you with his eyes.

You nod in agreement feeling yourself building as his fingers fuck into you harshly.

“Oh yeah!” You cry out, not trying to stifle yourself anymore.

He smirks at your volume and thrusts a third finger inside you, pumping into you, pushing his thumb up and around your clit, putting pressure on it as he swirled around it.

“Daryl! Don’t stop!” You cry out and bounce your body up and down on his fingers. You hear him growl in response to watching your body fuck him, under his poncho. He gets harder every time you cry out loudly to his touch.

“Cum for me baby.” He said thrusting into you faster and faster, hitting your clit with his thumb. He swirled and pushed around your clit, slamming his fingers inside you with intensity. You rock your hips harder and harder into him and his thumb puts more pressure on your clit each time you slam up into him. You thrust and thrust over and over, feeling him hit your spot every time, your hips begin to slam up into him wildly as you feel yourself ready, you swirl your hips a little, rocking them back and forth into his thumb, hard, faster and faster.

“Oh, Fuck!!!” You cry out. You feel yourself hit your climax as you thrust up into his thumb on your clit, and hold yourself there pushing into his hand as hard as you could. He moves the back of his palm back up to your core and slowly rubs up and down, hard, making you enjoy your high even more. You scream out his name again as he does this, prolonging your high, “Daryl!” You cry out in shock and in pleasure, rocking into his hand a few more times before dropping your hips, feeling yourself in a haze.

Daryl keeps his hand over your core for a moment longer, feeling you pulsating in pleasure underneath his touch. He looks up from his hand, to your eyes. You stare at him happily and sleepily smile.

“Nice wake up call.” You say to him and caress the side of his face.

He smirks and growls, “Yeah, like you weren’t expecting anything.” He says slowly reach his hand up from your core and pulling the hem of his poncho up your skin, until he can see the bottom of your bare breasts. He growls at the sight, looking back into your eyes, this time serious with lust.

“It was a present for you.” You say sweetly, smiling at him, loving the way he looked at your body.

“About time I unwrap it then.” He says looking down, while slightly tracing his index finger along the bottom of your breasts, one at a time. You moan at the sensation and nod to him.

He licks his lips, while tracing your skin, and looks back into your eyes. You stare at him with urgency, wanting to feel him all over you. He looks back down and slowly moves his index finger in between your breasts and hooks the fabric, slowly pulling it up. He drudges it up over your breasts, exposing your aroused nipples, and then up your collar bone and to your neck. You sit up a little allowing him to pull it over your head. It falls slightly behind your head, still resting on the pillow. You position your exposed body back down over the pillow and the poncho. Daryl’s hand comes down on your cheek and then rubs its way slowly down your neck to your right breast, he cups it greedily, groaning in pleasure as he rubbed and swirled his palm around it. His fingers came up every so often to flick your nipple, causing you to cry out for him, “Daryl!”

“Yeah baby, you tell them who makes you feel so good.” He says in low approval as he crashes his mouth back onto yours, moving his hand over to your left breasts and starting in on that one. You cry out his name into his mouth again as he swirls around your erratic tongue, he finds it and sucks on it for a moment, slowing your motion, he swirls his tongue slowly around yours over and over again, with tremendous pressure, while his hand pleasured both of your breasts, rubbing on them, harshly.

You arch up into him and writhe under his touch, massaging your hands into his hair, pushing his mouth into you harder. He groans and exists your mouth, beginning to lick and swirl his tongue down your neck and to your collarbone. He stopped for a moment and lifted up his body, swinging one leg over your hip, and straddling you. You felt his hard cock pulsating against your stomach as you watched him lean down, putting both of his hands on the sides of your face, he crashes his lips back to your neck, roughly sucking and swirling his mouth around your skin and down to your left breast. He swirled around the soft tissue and took in your nipple, slowly sucking on it as he moaned, “Mmmm…” He growled into your skin, making you grind your hips up into his and cry out in pleasure.

He took the nipple and began to swirl his tongue around it faster and faster as you called out to him, pushing his head into your body.

“Oh yes!” You cry out, rocking your hips underneath him. You feel yourself get wetter and he moves his attention and tongue over to your other breast, treating it with just as much attention. He sucked on your nipple slowly and swirled around it, before sucking up and around your entire breast. Moaning and groaning in delight as his tongue pleasured you.

“Baby…” You plead as you rub your hands down his clothed back, until you find the hem of his shirt, you pull it up as far as you can and groan a little.

He lifts his lips from your breasts after another flick of your nipple, he sits up and slides out of your finger. He smiles down at you, grind his hips into you a little as he reaches down and pulls his t-shirt off, throwing it across the room. His huge, bare arms push themselves to the ground by your naked sides and you slide your hands up them and down to caress his gorgeous chest. You bite your lip a little, loving the feeling of him on your hands. You  rub up and down, reaching lower with every pass downward. You reach the button of his jeans and you rub the skin right above it, rocking your hips up into him. You unbutton the metal and look up at him with pleading eyes.

He growled looking at you lowly, suddenly he stands up, ripping the rest of the sleeping bag blanket off of you both and throwing it fulling open on the ground. He stands up, straight on top of you, he smirked as you watched him in awe. Your eyes wander down his beautiful bare chest, down his stomach, and to his jeans. You watch as he unzips the zipper slowly and wiggles his hips down, his big cock popped out as he carefully guided it out of the zipper with one of his hands. He leaned his head back a little as he took himself in his hands. Once his dick was free he moved his hands back to tug the fabric down, with one quick swoop, he kicks out of them and kicked them behind him.

He smiled down at you lustfully as he watched you stare at him, frozen in arousal. He takes his huge dick into his hands again, using his feet he kicks your legs apart and kneels down in between them. He holds his cock in his hand and lines it up to your core. He looks up at you and you are playing you’re your breasts, massaging them with your hands, absentmindedly, waiting to feel him in side you.

He looks back down and drudges the tip of his cock up and down, slightly inside your folds.

“So wet.” He growled to himself and ran himself up and down you once more before slowly pushing his huge cock inside you, filling you as far as he could go. Your hips arch up as he fills you and your cry out in pleasure, “Fuck Yes!”

He pumps a little into you when he cannot push himself in any further. You bounce up in response, moaning at the sensation, “Yes.” You whimper and he pulls out and repeats himself, pushing himself back into you, filling you slowly, and then pumping into you harshly.

“Daryl…” You moan out to yourself as you massage yourself, closing your eyes feeling the full sensation of his cock filling you and making you feel so good.

“Fuck, Y/N! You look so good riding my cock.” He says licking lips staring down at you moaning as he pumps into you.

You nod, keeping your eyes closed, moaning in pleasure.

He begins to fuck you harder, slamming his cock harshly in and out of you, making your body bounce up and down faster and faster. He groaned as he watched your breasts bounce up and down under your roaming hands, as he fucking you.

“Oh yeah! Just like that, Daryl!” You cry out, arching your hips down into his, needing to feel even more of him. You grind up into him and clench your pussy over his cock, crying out at the sensation.

“Fuck!” He groans, feeling you tighten around him.

He moves his hands to the sides of your hips, grabbing them roughly, thrusting himself even harder into you. He moves your legs up and wraps them around his waist, as he thrusts even further into you, pumping shortly into you after filling you.


“Oh fuck, Baby!” You cry out in pure ecstasy, shooting your head back and arching your hips up into him, nearly pushing your ass off the ground completely.

“Damn!” Daryl growled, grabbing the sides of your ass with his hands, before your body could fall back down. He held your body in the air, grabbing your ass, and thrusting you into him. One of his hands, grapsed your ass check harshly and smacked it a few times, making you moan in pleasure. His hands grabbed you by the ass as he slammed into you harder and harder.

All you felt was him filling you in every way possible, you bounced in happiness, feeling him slam into your core and hit your clit putting pressure on it.

“Yes! There!” You cry out and he begins to hit you long and hard over your clit as his hands slam your hips into his, with so much pressure you thought you might break. He pumps into you and your clit over and over, faster and faster until your fingers grasp and grip your breasts tighter. He thrusts a few more times, deeply over you, grinding into you as hard as he could.

You feel yourself rising to your high as he thrusts into you, so fucking good. He ground his hips and his cock so hard into you, you ground your hips back into his harshly in return. Bouncing on his cock, until he hit you one last time, grinding into your clit and filling you to the brim.

“Oh, fuck yes!! Oh, Daryl! Yes!!” You cry out to him louder than you should, but you didn’t care. You clench your pussy around him as you cum hard. You ride his cock, feeling every moment of your high intensified.

He groans and smacks your ass again, feeling him cum around you.

“Fuck yes, baby. Cum for me.” He says and thrusts into you roughly, making you bounce up and down again.

“Cum inside me, baby.” You say, breathlessly, moving your hands down to rub over your stomach for a moment before bracing them to your sides, on the ground. You put your palms down on the ground and helped keep your body arched up in the air, the way he liked it.

He smacks your ass again and bites his lip as he starts thrusting into you harsh and wild. He hips rock back and forth on their own accord, changing their rhythm from slow and long, to fast and short, his hips would slam in and out and then swirl around to hit your sweet spot again, as he put as much pressure into you as he could.

He slammed into you faster and faster, swirling his hips every so often, loving the pressure he felt. His breath got heavy and erratic and his hips wildly began to buck as he cried out and came inside you.

“Oh, Fuck Yeah!!” He cries out, watching his body fuck you and feeling himself cum all over inside your warm body. You clench your pussy around his a few times as he cums, which makes him whimper in ecstasy. He thrusts into you slowly a few more times until he pushes back as far as he can go and holds himself there. Feeling his cock pulsating as he rides his climax out.

He lets you fall to the ground and he crashes on top of you, his cock still inside you. You reach your hands down to him and he takes them. He pulls out of you and falls back on top of your body, his face coming up near yours. Your hands are intertwined together and pushed out to the sides of the bed.

He moves his face up and over your own and stares down at you, breathing heavily still. He smiles and leans down, plunging his tongue slowly into your mouth, swirling around you with painstaking passion. You moan into him and squeeze his hands into yours harder.

He pulls his lips away from you for a moment, leaning his head back to stare back down at you.

“That was fucking amazing,” He said smiling and crashed his lips back down to devour yours.

—–

You awoke early the next morning feeling so peaceful and relaxed. You looked up at Daryl’s as you lay on his chest, looking at the man who made you feel nothing but good all night long. You sigh and lay back down on his chest, listening to the sound of him breathing in and out peacefully as he sleeps. You lay there for a little while, watching through the tent walls as the sun began to creep up into the sky. You hear Hershel’s chickens pecking somewhere in the distance and the horses neighing, morning was here.

You slink out of the sleeping bag, trying not to disturb Daryl, he never got the rest he should, you wanted him to stay asleep if possible. You slowly creep around the tent, grabbing your underwear and clothes, quietly trying to dress yourself. You successfully get everything on and put on your socks and boots. You grab a couple of empty water bottles that are on the floor of the tent, in the corner, and unzip the tent, stepping outside.

You breathe in the crisp, cool morning air, you see the slight dew that built up on the meadow grass overnight, as the sun beams begin to shine done on them. You smile at the beautiful scene in front of you. You don’t remember a time ever being happier or more satisfied than right at this moment. You stand there for a moment with the water bottles in your hanging hands, just taking in the moment. Visions of Daryl flood through your mind. His smile, his laugh, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous, the way he made you feel so good with every part of him.

You feel the bottle tops in your fingertips and remember what you were doing. You began to walk toward the drinking well that was to the back of the barn, across the road and on the backside of the farm. You creep your way quietly around tent city, not wanting to disturb anyone, everyone was still asleep, except for Dale who was perched a top his van, on guard duty. He nodded down to you hello. You smiled and waved at him, continuing on your way. You loop around to the back of the barn, walking the few extra feet to the well. You pump the handles a few times and open it, water starts spewing out. You quickly unscrew the first bottle top off and shove the bottle under the rushing stream. You tighten the lid back in it when you are finished and repeat your actions with the second bottle, filling it to the brim and tightening the cap. You slam the handle back down, stopping the water, and smile to yourself as you tighten your grip on both water bottles, putting one back in each hand.

You turn to walk back toward the front of the barn and back to Daryl’s tent. Your eyes snap over to someone standing against the barn staring at you, it was Rick. “Shit!” You gasp shocked and stop in your tracks, heart pounding.

“You scared the shit out of me, Rick!” You say startled.

Rick pushed his back off the back of the barn and lowered his heel that was resting on the wall. He stared straight at you, with his hands on his hips. He looked at you darkly, with a tinge of anger in his eyes. You stood there trying not to feel the flips that involuntarily went around in your stomach as you stared into his eyes. You gripped the water bottles tighter in your hands and focused on remaining guarded for this conversation.

“What are you doing up so early?” You ask, trying to sound casually.

Rick nodded his head down and sighed, “Couldn’t sleep.” He said looking up at you with tense eyes.

“That’s too bad.” You reply, shifted the weight on your feet awkwardly, hearing the gravel crunch underneath your shoe. You look down, not sure what else to say.

“Well, I better be-“ You start, but are interrupted.

“What are you doin’, Y/N?” Rick asked, tilting his head and looking sideways at you.

“What?” You ask, peering at him questioningly.

“You know what I’m talkin’ about. What are doin’… with him?” Rick asks, his voice is gruff and throaty, as he emphasizes his words.

You shake the hair away from your face a little and stare at him, “What does it matter to you? I’m just having a little fun. I like Daryl.” You say sincerely.

You watch as Rick takes a step back and run his hands over his face for a moment. And then suddenly he is striding towards you. He wraps one arm around your waist and snakes the other up your back to your neck. Before you know what is happening his lips are on yours, he harshly pushes his tongue into your mouth, through your teeth. Your mouth remained mostly closed to him, in shock. Your hands drop the water bottles to the floor and you reach them quickly up to Rick’s chest, pushing him away and out of your mouth. You push him again, this time more angrily.

“What the hell Rick!?!” You cry out a little too loudly, you shush your voice down to an angry growl before continuing, not wanting anyone else to hear the commotion.

“You can’t do that! Or have you conveniently forgotten about Lori?” You continue, staring at him your body full of anger. What made him think he could just take you whenever he wanted, you were not playing this game with him. You thought to yourself angrily.

Rick put his hands on his hips again and looked down at the ground, nodding, he looked back up and peered into her eyes.

“I want you Y/N. I don’t know what happened, but seeing you with Daryl… It made it clear just how bad…” He says, not breaking eye contact. He stays in place, not wanting to elicit an angry reaction from you again.

You take a deep breath, taking in this man’s words. For so long this was all you had ever wanted, but things were different. Your stomach was doing flips as you entertained the idea for a moment. And then your thoughts turned to Daryl smiling at you, that sparkle in his eye when he really laughed. You thought about Daryl’s mouth on yours and how much you loved his kisses. You thought about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world. Your mind wandered as you thought of this man, the man you wanted as yours, this wasn’t just fun, this was something better. You thought to yourself. You looked back into Rick’s eyes and smiled a small smile.

“Rick. I admit there was a time when I would have loved to hear those words. But now… I’ve moved on, ya know?” You say feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

“Because of him??” He asked gritting his teeth.

“Yeah.” You smile to yourself, looking at the ground, “Because of him.”

He looked angrily at you and at the ground, nodding, trying to take your words in.

You pick up the water bottles that are on the ground and begin to walk past him, back to the front of the barn, and across the road into Daryl’s arms.

As you walked past Rick, he grabbed your arm harshly, you thrashed a little trying to break his contact.

“Get off me!” You cry out. But, he just holds you in place.

He looks into your eyes with a look of angry desperation, “We had somethin’ Y/N! I know we did!” He pleads to you.

You continue to try and get his hand off your arm.

“What did we have but a few lousy sideways glances and looks? Besides me hanging on your every word and watching you want me but stay with her? What did we have?” You ask him sarcastically and angrily.

“Let me go, Rick. Go home to your wife.” You spit.

He doesn’t let go of your arm, in fact he grips it tighter after hearing your words. You cry out a little in pain. He stands there staring at you as if frozen in rage.

“You best do what she says…” You hear Daryls low voice as he strides into view from the other sside of the barn. His arms swing full of purpose as he stares into Rick’s eyes.

Rick pushes your arm down and puts his hands up in the air.

“I don’t want any trouble.” Ricks says staring at Daryl.

Daryl growled a little in reaction, “Didn’t sound that way to me.” He says circling over toward you.

You rub your arm where Rick had placed such much pressure on, it would definitely leave a bruise. You pout to yourself in your pain and look over, relief washing over you as you watched Daryl making his way to you. He walks up to you and looks you in the eye, concerned.

“You alright?” He asks you softly.

You sigh and grumble, “Yeah.” You say in response, shooting Rick a pissed off look.

Daryl turned around to face Rick again, pushing his chest slightly into Rick’s getting inches away from Rick’s face. Rick’s jaw tightens, he says nothing just stares back, waiting for whatever Daryl had to say.

“I catch you so much as lookin’ at her again? You’ll be sorry.” He says simply, pushing his face closer to Rick’s slightly, puffing out his chest, before backing away.

Rick nods and stares at the ground.

Daryl turns sideways and looks at you, holding out his hand. You grab it gratefully and intertwine your fingers with his. He pulls you past Rick, slightly bumping Rick’s shoulder as he does. He walks you across to the side of the barn he had originally emerged from.

He stops and slightly pushes you into the wall of the barn, his big hand in the middle of your chest.

“Are you alright?” He asks again, without Rick’s presence.

You look at him, your eyes softening, “Yeah. Thank You.” You say caressing the side of his face with your right-hand.

He nods a little and licks his lips, a look of worry in his eyes. “I heard you when you screamed. I thought… And then I heard what he said to you…. I didn’t… I didn’t know what to think. I’m glad you’re alright.” He says softly and looks gratefully into your eyes.

He had heard you tell Rick off and that she wanted only him. Daryl stared at you completely in awe that a woman like her would ever want someone like him. He pulled the hair from your eyes, to get a better very of you. He pulled you in for a short kiss. You grab his face and pull his lips into yours a few more times before allowing him to detach.

“I love you Daryl.” You say as his lips exit you. You stare sincerely into his eyes, surprising even yourself as the words fell from your lips.

His eyes open and he smiles shyly at you, dropping his head, he looks up at you with eyes that pierce your soul. You feel a sense of electricity hit you hard as he stared at you. He pushed his lips onto yours and passionately dives his tongue in and around yours, bringing his hands to the sides of your face, swirling around your mouth for a minute, before detaching and looking into your eyes again.

“I love ya too.” Daryl says playfully and crashes his tongue back into your mouth, devouring you again.

Your breathing is heavy and you feel the urge to touch him anywhere you can again. Your hands come up and caress his back, pulling him into you as you rub.

He groans into your mouth. Detaches his lips suddenly, giving you only one more quick peck before stepping back, his hand still in yours. He nods his head sideways.

“Let’s go.” He says simply, with that look in his eyes again.

You began to get excited and felt a rush through your body as you let him pull you away, back down the hill and to Daryl’s home. When you were both back inside the tent you excitedly crashed into his body, wrapping your arms back around his and taking his mouth in for another long, sweet kiss.

You sigh happily to yourself, as you enjoy this feeling. He made you so damn happy and now everyone could know it. He was hers and she was his. You moan blissfully into his mouth as his fingers began to race up around the small of your back, underneath your shirt. His fingers on your bare skin felt heavenly. Hell, everything about what they created together felt that way. And Y/N intended to enjoy every minute of it. You sigh as he picks you up wrapping your legs around his waist, before laying you down on the makeshift bed.

You pull away to look into his eyes again, “Don’t ever stop loving on me.” You say staring at him in pure want.

He smiles at you and licks his lips, “That’s the plan…” He says lowly, raising his eyebrow, as he pushes his tongue back into your mouth for another passionate kiss. One of many, many more to come…

Star Crossed - Part 1 (H.S AU)

Author’s Note: Hi! This is just an introduction to remind the reader that this is an AU story, so if something seems impossible in our world today (or like a year ago), that is why. This story is set in present time, and our planet is exactly the same, except where the characters live (in the U.S) there are laws that have changed the way they live. This story is based on a set of laws in which couples are paired based on their zodiac signs - and incompatible pairs are ruled out by law.  Also, just one final reminder, none of the things mentioned about any of these characters are necessarily true. This story is obviously 100% fiction, AND this chapter is mostly an introduction and explanation of the world they live in - though this is only in the U.S - all the other countries in the world do not live by these rules in the story. Thank you so much for reading. 

                                                    ————–

Maddie’s POV

    The day that I was born had always determined my entire future. Our world has never made sense to me. You’re probably wondering how I can say that, right? The answers pretty simple – our lives are decided for us. A person can only fall into one category – and it is all decided based on the day you enter this world. As a Taurus – my birthday is May 20th - I fell into the population of Earth signs. Straight out of high school graduation, at the age of 18, every young man and woman will receive in the mail, a name that will change their lives forever.

   This name is meant to be their “perfect match.” You see, about 100 years ago, the U.S decided it was time to rid our nation of divorce. In order to do so, they needed a system that would set together two people who were just about perfect for one another. They call it “The Crossing." 

   Now, you’re probably wondering how these perfect couples are paired. There are two different aspects of The Crossing. The first is the “Astrological System.” This system ensures that the two people that are put together are compatible Zodiac signs, and fall under the same category of said signs. It is absolutely illegal for two persons of non-compatible signs to be together in any format that is not considered platonic. This is enforced by a punishment which is not discussed outside the government because no one seems to know exactly what happens. All that is known is that if caught, one of an unmatched pair is taken by officers, and they don’t ever return.

   The second aspect of matching is greatly encouraged, but not required. Any person eligible to be matched has the opportunity to complete a questionnaire type assessment, which is put into a database, and looks for the most similar answers.

   It just does not make any sense to me, though. I am a Taurus, but both my Mother and my little sister, Robin are of the Leo sign, and I love them more than anything. Their both amazing and our signs have never been "discordant” - as the government calls it - as far as I’m concerned.

    Then there’s my stepdad. Chuck (pictured below). The irony is that he’s a Capricorn - one of my signs “most compatible” other signs, yet I hate that – pardon my language - bastard more than anyone else to walk this earth. The reason why? He’s not the man my mother wants to believe he is. She’s convinced herself that she loves him, and I can’t blame her - he puts on quite the façade, acting like he couldn’t hurt a fly. Acting like he loves my sister and me, and Hell, if I didn’t know his true colors he could have had me fooled. But I am no fool. I know who he really is beneath the surface of his pale skin.

    The fact that my mother seems to think she’s found love again, isn’t the reason Chuck and I aren’t “compatible.” I am not upset that he tried to replace my father - what kind of daughter would I be to deprive my mother of the happiness she deserved and needed. No, my problem lies within his character, which has proven itself within the countless bruises that adorn MY pale skin. I’ve received countless blows from him, all because I stepped in front of my little sister the first time he ever showed signs of violence, and because I ‘defied’ his dominance. I’d do it a million times again if I had to, and I have had to. I’m never going to let the world hurt my sister the way it did me.

   Chuck Blaine just is not, and never will be someone I am capable of trusting. In fact, it is BECAUSE of him that I lack the ability to place my trust in any man, cold hearted or otherwise. Maybe that’s why within my stubborn heart I dreading this day so much.

   Since my father was no longer in the picture, my mom was placed back into the crossing system. Specifically, the crossing system for widows and widowers. The way it works is men get their choice at their second wife. As if the first crossing couldn’t be bad enough, the second opportunity is even worse. He acts as if he thinks he and my mother are destined for one another, but I know what he was really after. Money.

   My family wasn’t rich, but when my father died in his car crash, he left every bit of money he had AND his family inheritance to my mother to support our family. My heart aches as I think of my father. A drunk driver hit him, while he was making a turn, on his way home from work one night. The person driving the other car ran a red light.

   My father was one of the kindest people you could ever meet. The saddest part about losing him was that I remembered little of that night. I was only 9 years old, and it was obviously the hardest thing that I have ever faced in my life, so I guess I must have repressed the memories. So how does a family like mine, that’s been through hell and back end up with a freaking monster?

   Well, when your “partner” has passed away, you are given the opportunity to be paired with someone else, of your choosing from eligible “matches.” Divorce is absolutely forbidden, once you’re married, but if you don’t want to marry your match, you can not be re-matched, regardless. Once you’re matched that’s it - you don’t have to love one another romantically, but every year 5 of the new pairs are assigned to “Populace.” This means they have to have a baby. Though, if you DO love your partner and wish for a family you’re allowed to create one on your own. Luckily, my mom wasn’t placed under that duty.

   So, here I am. Sitting on my front porch, swaying back and forth on the squeaky old auburn colored, wooden bench swing, drinking tea from Dad’s old cobalt blue mug, waiting to receive the name that’s going to change my life forever. Yep, that’s right, today is my “big day.” Today’s the day I receive my future in an ugly orange envelope. And it will all start with a simple name, printed onto a sheet of paper. I hear the creaking of the front door and look to my left to see my mom, smiling at me.

 “Today’s the day, huh?” She asks, making her way over to me. She gently sits next to me. I avert my eyes to the mug between both of my palms, watching the steam escape from inside.

  “Today’s the day,” I nod slowly. I crinkle my eyebrows, not knowing exactly how to feel about the situation. To be honest, it isn’t really possible to know how to feel about your crossing until you are holding the results in your hand - maybe not even then.  

    “Hey,” she nudges me gently with her shoulder. I look up into her beautiful blue eyes. Through everything, my mother somehow always managed to have some sort of positive aura about her. I always felt it most when I looked at her eyes. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, something she always did when I was trapped in my thoughts before she continues. “I’m sure they’ll be great. You earth signs normally are, I mean, you are my whole world kid,” I let out a weak chuckle. My mom and her cheesy jokes, always trying to lighten the mood.

   “Well, you and Robin,” she says. I smile, nodding. She takes hold of one of my hands, lifting it from the mug, she kisses the Taurus symbol on my wrist, that was forced onto me straight our of graduation as a form of identification.

   She wraps both arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I close my eyes breathing in her lavender scent. She must have been in her garden, I think to myself. I am going to miss those white roses outside my bedroom window. I open my eyes at the sound of the mail truck skidding to a halt on the street in front of our house. My heart practically stops in my chest, then and there, as I realize that it’s time. I stand up slowly, after placing my mug on the wood floor of the porch, underneath the swing. Tea, like my peace of mind, is going to have to wait.   

    “Madeleine Parker?!” The postman announces. It almost sounds as if he’s looking for the winner of some sort of life-altering raffle. 

   “Uh..here” I mumble, waving once to him. It almost feels like a teacher calling roll at school.

   “Congratulations,” he says with a warm smile, handing me my package.

    “Thank you” - I force a smile and grit my teeth behind it. I say thank you not because he’s so excited for my life to placed under someone else’s jurisdiction, but because it’s the polite thing to do when someone hands you something that belongs to you. No matter how unfortunate it is that it belongs to you.

   “Well?” my mom says. I send her a questioning look, starting to tremble on the inside. “giving me looks is not going to change the fact that the rest of your life is inside that envelope. Take your time, but open it, sweetheart,” she says. She walks up to me, kissing me on the head before turning on her heel, and walking back up the porch steps, and swinging the front door back open. I look back down at the envelope in my hands. I stare at it for a second, observing the earth symbol on the front – signifying that I and my new partner are obviously both earth signs - before slowly flipping it to the seal, and tearing it open slowly with my thumb. I take out the sheet of paper and read every bit of information as fast as I can. 

Partner

-Name: Niall James Horan

-Origin: Ireland – relocation year: 2016

Ireland?…that’s pretty cool I guess. He clearly moved here this year.

-Age: 23

..otherwise, he would have completed the Crossing like 4-5 years ago. Since he wasn’t 18 when he moved here, guess it was his choice.

-Birthday: September 13, 1993

-Sign: Virgo


Contact Information

-Phone Number: ***-***-****

Why are they giving me his phone number? What am I supposed to text this person? “Oh hey Niall, my names Maddie I am the person you’re stuck with till the day we die, wanna grab some coffee?” I scoff before my eyes scroll down further until they reach our “Assignment section.”

Assignment(s)

-Assigned Living: 14527 Rose Hill Drive

Rose Hill Drive?… that’s one of the wealthiest living spaces available to new pairs….oh god. Mom must have thrown some of the inheritance into my funds. Oh god, what if we..

-Assigned to Populace: No

Oh thank god. No offense, Horan but you’re still a complete and total stranger as of right now.

-Career(s)

      Male: Music

      Female: None

Music…interesting. Also, I need to get a job urgently… if we’re going to be living in one of the expensive neighborhoods I am going to have to step up.

-Relocation date: 6/1/17

Three Days…I have three days to meet this stranger and move in with them.

Congratulations and best of luck to you Ms. Wilkinson, and Mr. Horan.


Congratulations? Really? How many people are going to say that stupid word to me today?! Is that the best you’ve got?… Whatever. Sighing, I reluctantly walk back up the creaky old porch steps and grab my mug from under the swing before making my way back through the front door, my papers folded under my arm. I walk past the front steps, towards the kitchen, immediately sensing my mother cooking bacon. I place my mug on the island counter, and plop myself down onto one of the barstools with a slight huff, before tossing my packet onto the island as well.

   “Well?” My mom says, peering over her shoulder, a curious look on her face. I pick up the package and read to her everything I read in the front yard. All the while, she cooks breakfast for my sister and I. Luckily, Chuck’s job requires him to get up early in the morning. She puts some bacon on a plate and hands it to me when I get up and add more milk to my tea.

   “He seems…” she pauses for a second, “..interesting.” I can’t help but laugh briefly.

   “You seem pretty calm for a woman who’s daughter just told her she’s about to move into a house with a boy nearly 5 years older than her.” I look at her amusedly.

   “In our world, age is clearly just a number, my dear.”

    I scoff, “Ya until you turn 18, then it’s not your world - it’.”s one place, and one person until the day you die.”

   “Maddie, I know you don’t like it sweetheart, but-“

    “It’s the world we live in, and we can’t change it - yes I know,” I sigh.

    “So have you gotten in contact with this..” she pauses, clearly forgetting his name. I quirk an eyebrow at her, smirking.

   “Niall?” I ask, earning a nod from her, the dopey amused grin never leaves my face as I continue, “and, no I haven’t reached out to him. I wouldn’t even know what to say if I did.”

   “Well, did you look him up on that..instasnap thing you’re always on?” Realizing she’s trying to say Instagram, I try really hard not to laugh at her, but ultimately fail.

   “You mean Instagram?” I snigger, plopping my last piece of bacon in my mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it, all while sending my mom an amused look.

   “Ya…That.” She says, embarrassed. She turns back to the stove, flicking the switch off, bringing the pan over to the sink.

   “No, I haven’t but, maybe I will later.” I sigh. Talking to a strange man? As mentioned, clearly not exactly something that appeals to me.

    “Alright, well it’s almost time for Robin’s dance lesson…I think she was looking for her shoes, maybe you could help her?”

   “I’m on it,” I quickly rise from the wooden stool, taking one last sip from my tea mug, and place it in her expecting hand. When she turns and starts scrubbing the dishes I quickly walk around the island, and give her a quick kiss on the cheek, placing my dish in the sink before exiting the kitchen and starting to climb the creaky old steps, making my way towards the second floor. I make my way towards Robin’s door.

   When I reach Robin’s white door, I lift my right arm, and gently brush over the pink flowers with my fingers. Every time they catch my eye - even as I walk to my own room - I remember painting them for her on her 7th birthday after she begged me to. Smiling to myself briefly, I knock on it gently before slowly opening it.

   “Robin?” When I step inside, my heart nearly breaks at the sight of my sister all dressed in her ballet outfit and sitting on her bed crying quietly. Her hands are in her lap, but she quickly raises one to wipe her tear from her eyes before dropping it once more, realizing that I am in her room. She never liked when I saw her cry - she probably learned that from me. I always hated the way people stared at me when I showed emotion. I could always sense them thinking I was the fragile girl who’s dad died.

   “Robin? What’s wrong?” I ask, worried, rushing over and kneeling in front of my sister. I grab both her hands and look up at her, my thumb gently brushing over both of her small hands, that are damp from trying to fight her tears. The first thing I notice is her eyes. Her bright blue eyes that she got from our mom – full of sadness, her cheeks tinted red from crying. I swear, their eyes looked like the ocean. Hearing her sniffle practically breaks my heart into two severed pieces.

   “What’s wrong little bird?” I ask with a frown forming on my face. She smiles slightly at the nickname I gave her so many years ago. When she finally speaks, she gets choked up at her words.

   “Everyone always leaves me..” she mumbles, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

    “Robin..” I gasp slightly, taken aback by her words.She wraps her arms around me and cries into my neck, her sobs echoing through the small pink bedroom my mom and I decorated when I was just 10 years old after we found out Robin was a girl. When my dad was killed in the accident, my mom didn’t even know she was expecting. She found out three months later.

   “Don’t cry little bird,” I whisper.

   “But you’re gonna’ leave, to live with that Irish boy I heard you talking about…” Typical Robin, always sneaking about catching my conversations with mom. “and-and I’m not gonna see you anymore, a-and step-dad - h-he’s gonna-” 

   “Hey!” I quietly exclaim, gently grabbing her sides, pushing her back slightly so she’s looking me in the eyes. “I would never let anything bad happen to you, would I?” I quirk a brow at her. She looks down shaking her head, where her amber brown hair is pulled into a tight bun, with some fly away hairs near her face. I reach out and tuck them behind her right ear.

   “You can’t get rid of me that easily little bird,” I shake my head smiling. She pulls me in for another hug, her tear stained cheek brushing against my shoulder. Her sobbing quiets down eventually, as I rub her back soothingly.

   “I’ll-I’ll still be your best friend right?” She whispers, her voice laced with hope. Even at the age of 9, she was just as sensitive as I am.

   “Of course you will,” I say chuckling at her, “Now wipe those tears, we have pesky little ballet shoes to find,” I say, earning a giggle from her in the process cupping both of her cheeks in my hands and wiping the wiping the rest of her tears – something my mom once did on a night when I cried, missing my dad. My mom was the one who always enforced strength - crying was a weakness to her most of the time. Though I suffered whenever I’d mention my longing to see my father again, or to get to say goodbye to him, she’d shut me out. It was gut-wrenching but ultimately made my skin thicker, maybe even tougher.  It made that night she comforted me incredibly easy to remember, but the thought still sends a sad pang to my heart. I swallow the lump in my throat as Robin backs out of our hug, taking one of my hands, we start to look for her shoes.

   Once Robin and my mom had left I decided to take a long shower to try and ease the stress weighing on my mind. I stepped into the en suite bathroom connected to my bedroom. I flicked on the lights, before removing my sweats, and gray v-neck T-shirt, switching on the water to the shower and folding the clothes neatly. I placed them on top of the closed toilet seat, and draw back the old blue shower curtain, stepping into the bathtub, where the shower water circles the drain.

   I let my lungs consume the steam, breathing it in as I run my fingers gently through my messy dirty blonde hair, that’s been ruffled by my sleep. I got my hair color from none other than..you guessed it, my father. My mom loved to tell me I had his eyes too –that  I was gifted with his blue-green irises, though my eyes actually changed color every now and then. Some days I would look in the mirror and see my dad’s eyes staring back at me, and others my mom’s beautiful blue orbs would surprise me in the morning. There was even an occasion in which my eyes would look almost gray.

   Grabbing my shampoo, I squirt some out into my hand, then place it back on the white marble ledge of my bathtub. After scrubbing the suds of argon oil shampoo through my hair, which had practically grown past my breasts by now, I then do the same with my conditioner, before tying my hair into a bun. Something I have been doing since I learned you’re supposed to let the conditioner sit for a minute or two. Imagine how dumb I felt for not knowing that little fact. I then scrubbed my body clean of sleep as well, and wash my face before rinsing my conditioner, and then wrapping my gray towel around my body.

   I step out of the shower slowly and take in my surroundings for one of the last times that I’ll be able to. Or at least the last time I will be a resident in this house. I always enjoyed my bathroom because it was simple, but it had an almost secret beauty to it. Flicking the lights back off, I walk back into my bedroom, grabbing the clothes I previously folded and throwing them back on. It’s not like I’m going anywhere today. I try to shake away the thoughts of how much I will miss this place- my home, grabbing my iPhone from the nightstand, letting out a puff of air, I collapse on top of my bed.

   I think back to my conversation with Robin. Robin’s always been the kind of young girl that thinks there is good in everyone. That is probably the biggest difference between us. She truly has the purest, kindest little heart I have ever seen in all my days on this earth. It’s no surprise that someone as innocent as she would want to believe there’s good in this messed up world. I see so much of my father’s spirit inside her. What troubles me is how scared she is of those who have proven not to have a nice bone in their body- i.e Chuck. Chuck. Just the thought of that disgusting man’s name sends bile to my mouth, so much so that I almost gag.

   I pull up Instagram typing the name Niall Horan in the search bar, before hitting the search button. I click on the users that pop up until I think I have found the Niall Horan I am looking for – when the bio reads Mullingar Ireland, 23. I request to follow the account before tossing my phone back on my bed. Just when it hits my duvet, though, my screen lights up with a number I don’t recognize.


Messages (2)

- Found my Instagram, eh?

-Oh, btw this is Niall – Niall Horan. I hope you don’t mind – my letter gave me your number, I’ve been meaning to send a message your way all day.

 I chuckle, quite frankly surprised by his kindness. Something about it seems so..genuine. I start typing back quick response-

 Hi Niall, I’m Madeleine….But I am guessing you already knew that. You can just call me Maddie, though. And yes that was me that followed you on Instagram. Sorry I haven’t sent you a message..couldn’t really think of what to say, to be honest.

-That’s alright! I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to meet up at some point maybe tomorrow? We could grab some coffee or something if you want.

Sure, But you should know I am more of a tea kinda girl.

 -Tea it is then! I’ll text you tomorrow so we can work out a time.

Sounds good! Talk to you then.

   I shut off my iPhone, and toss it back down onto my bed before lying down on my back. I just lay there, staring at my ceiling. Well, Niall Horan, it looks like I’ll see you tomorrow. And..every day after that for the rest of my life I guess….

Tag! You’re it!

I was tagged by islandfeuer to play the self-disclosure game. Play along if you like. 

Name: Michael.

Nicknames: My name is sometimes shortened to “Mike.” My adult children (and some of their friends) call me “Padre.”

Zodiac Sign: Libra. Because of course one twelfth of the population born under the sign of Libra all have keen intellects, are peaceful and fair, find partnership very important, and cannot stand to be alone. If you’re a Libra don’t be surprised if you find yourself attracted to someone older than yourself today. It’s in your stars!

Height: 175 cm. I have lost over 2.5 cm in the last few years. Because I am old.

Orientation: West.

Nationality: United States. But don’t blame me. I voted for her.

Favorite Fruit: Stone fruits.

Favorite Season: Arizona winter, Virginia spring.

Favorite Book: The collected poetry and letters of Mr. John Keats.

Favorite Flower: Gardenia, for its evocative fragrance.

Favorite Scent: See Favorite Flower, above.

Favorite Color: I am panchromophilic.

Favorite Animal: Aquatic insects of all types, but especially the caddisflies.

Coffee, tea or hot cocoa: Yes, thank you. I’ll have what you’re having.

Average sleep hours: Six.

Cat or dog person: I am petless.

Favorite fictional character: Sam Gribley from My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George.

Number of blankets you sleep with: It depends.

Blog Created: June 2008.

Number of followers: This is the least meaningful tumblr metric I can imagine. I am grateful for any actual person who views and enjoys my photos. I doubt that they bring much joy to my robot followers, who are legion.

The signs as Populated places in South Korea:
  • Aries, Libra: Populated coastal places in South Korea
  • Taurus, Scorpio: Wikipedia categories named after populated places in South Korea
  • Gemini, Sagittarius: Neighbourhoods in South Korea
  • Cancer, Capricorn: Villages in South Korea
  • Leo, Aquarius: Former populated places in South Korea
  • Virgo, Pisces: Populated places in Seoul
nytimes.com
Who Will Save These Dying Italian Towns?
Near-empty villages try to hold on to an endangered way of life — and some of the country’s most important artisanal traditions.
By Deborah Needleman

A primary narrative of Italy in the 20th century has been what followed the collision of poverty, urbanization, mass emigration and natural disaster, a confluence of events that has devastated many towns that had otherwise managed to thrive, or at least get by, for centuries. These towns, most of which are in the historically impoverished south, had already lost tens of millions of inhabitants in the great waves of migration from the late 19th century to the mid 1970s; in the last 25 years, they lost another 15 percent…These towns and their craftsmanship are what we think of when we think of Italy — as fundamental to the country’s identity as its important cities and grand artistic legacies. It isn’t far-fetched to say that what’s at risk of being lost with their obsolescence is nothing less than Italy’s rural soul.

But though these towns may represent the essence of Italian history and the country’s artisanal tradition, the government has done little to help preserve them, aside from declaring 2017 ‘‘The Year of the Villages’’ in hopes of boosting tourism. It has therefore fallen to locals — citizens and mayors — to try to change their fates, often through inventive, sometimes ingenious, methods that mingle humor with a deep sorrow and desperation. One picturesque medieval hamlet in Tuscany, Pratariccia, sold itself on eBay for $3.1 million several years ago. Another, Calsazio, tried to follow, offering itself for only $333,000, listing the item’s condition as ‘‘used.’’ In Calabria, the mayor of Sellia (population 530) signed a decree banning death and illness in his town, and recently opened an adventure park with a giant zip line he thought would lure visitors. Most recently, the mayor of Bormida in Liguria floated a provisional offer on his Facebook page: $2,100 to anyone who moved there in order to keep it populated. (There was so much interest that he had to delete the post.)

At the time of the witch trials, capital and the State were particularly concerned with birth rates. They wanted labour and they saw large populations as the sign of a wealthy nation. The population was low due to the plagues and wars, and the authorities were worried about demographic collapse. Therefore they were anti-abortion and anti-contraception (the fairy tales of witches killing children and babies stem from this campaign). Many of the first witches burned were engaged in contraception and abortion work, and there is plenty of evidence that women were indeed controlling the birth rates within their communities during the middle ages. They authorities didn’t want to leave the control of reproduction in the hands of lower class women, and the witch trials were partly a battle to snatch control of this knowledge, which had previously been a ‘female mystery’. Women’s ability to control their own reproduction was hugely diminished; and as midwives and groups of women were excluded from the birth process, the communities were robbed of their traditions of knowledge. In so far as children are the products of women’s labour, control over reproduction meant alienating women from their own bodies and controlling how many children women had, and when and where they had them.

In fact it would be another hundred years or more before the male doctors truly had a monopoly on attending births. In the seventeenth century, the surgeons started delivering babies using forceps, and women were banned from practicing surgery. By the eighteenth century most births were attended by physicians, and when female midwives in England organised and charged the male intruders with commercialism and dangerous misuse of the forceps, they were easily put down as ignorant ‘old wives’ clinging to the superstitions of the past. It was the process of the witch trials that had sown the seeds of this attitude.

In the sixteenth century, midwives in France and Germany became obliged to report all births to the State, including concealed births. Today, it is illegal not to register births in most of Europe, while across the world there is currently significant control of reproduction by the authorities ranging from the Catholic prohibition on contraception and pregnancy terminations, to the state-run birth control programmes in China; and from enforced sterilisation in some export processing zones to the aborting of female foetuses in the patriarchal society of India. The extent to which birth is medicalised and seen in terms of risk, and the faith we have in the magic-seeming powers of the doctor and hospital (despite our frequent disappointments in the medical establishment) is still testimony to this battle.

—  Lady Stardust, Burning Women: The European Witch Hunts, Enclosure, and the Rise of Capitalism

llimus  asked:

May I hear about some muddy baby?

CAN YOU EVER ok so for right this second we’re gonna diverge from reptiles to talk about a salamander.

This is a hellbender salamander, or Cryptobranchus alleganiensis when she’s in trouble- and boy is she in trouble a lot. The hellbender is the only member of Cryptobranchus and only has one other genus in its family- Andrias, which is the genus of the giant Japanese and Chinese salamanders. Hellbenders are the largest salamander in North America and have fill both a predator and prey niche. They live east of the Mississippi River and can be found in New York, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, West Virginia, Virginia, North Carolina, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Georgia, and Arkansas. 

They have extremely demanding water requirements- they need fast-ish water because otherwise they won’t get enough oxygen. They have a unique respiratory ability- they take in dissolved oxygen in the water through their skin- and prey mostly on crayfish. Also, they are extremely flat. This allows them to move easily in the fast water. Other names for the hellbender include: snot otter, devil dog, mud dog, Allegheny alligator (that one’s my second-favorite), and grampus (that one’s my favorite).

The hellbender used to be common throughout the eastern United States, but you guessed it, people have once again ruined everything.  Damn those dams- damming the waterways these guys live in and diverting the course of rivers has really taken a toll on their population. They’re in decline literally everywhere, and captive breeding has been extremely difficult. There are two subspecies- C. a. alleganiensis and C. a. bishopi. The bishopi are the Ozark subspecies, and there’s only about 590 of them left in the White River and Spring River systems of southern Missouri and northern Arkansas. Ore mining, sedimentation in the rivers, loss of water quality, and collection for the pet trade have taken a huge toll, as well as the fungal disease chytridiomycosis. Chytridiomycosis is present in all Ozark populations and is devastating. It is also present in some captive populations; at one point, it wiped out 75% of the St. Louis Zoo’s captive collection, which was a huge problem because St. Louis Zoo is one of the facilities that has figured out how to breed them. 

Hellbenders are really important to their river systems. Like any amphibian, they’re an important indicator species- when something goes wrong with their populations, it’s a sign that something is wrong with the river. Captive breeding efforts and egg collecting and nurturing with release at a less vulnerable stage have been slow to get going (these critters mature slowly!), but for now at least alleganiensis seems to be ok. However, the Ozark subspecies won’t be without help. If you want to help the hellbender, you can report sightings of them here or have a look at Purdue Extension’s “Help the Hellbender project. If you live in the Ozark Hellbender’s range, you can report sightings of it here

(Picture sources: 1, 23, 4)

The signs as the five historical periods

Prehistory: Cancer, Virgo

The birth of humanity, the begginings. Cooperativity. 

Ancient history: Saggitarius, Gemini, Pisces

Known for the classical greece and rome. Culture seeking period. Philosophers who used the verbal communication to spread their thoughts. A lot of debates in the agoras.

Middle ages: Aries, Leo

The periord of bravery. The courageus served the king. Time of wars and destruction of the past.

Modern age: Taurus, Libra, Aquarius

Recovery of the knowledge of the Ancient history. Period where beauty and harmony are important. A lot of changes and discoveries marked this period. Closed by the French Revolution.

Contemporany: Capricorn, Scorpio

Period marked by ambition. Industrial progress. Extreme political positions. Dictatorships. Capitalism. Great advance in life conditions of all the population.

The Week is Full of Spiders:

DAY 3: Favorite Quote Day

“Do you dream, mon? I interpret dream for beer.”

That’s the town of Undisclosed in a nutshell. This run-down half city with more weirdos per capita than you’ll find anywhere outside of San Francisco. We should have that printed on the green population sign coming into town: WELCOME TO [UNDISCLOSED] DREAMS INTERPRETED FOR BEER.

- John Dies at the End, David Wong 

Is this really my favorite quote? No. I have so many and a lot of them have already been posted. I always liked that JDatE takes place in an unknown Midwestern town so I chose this quote. Also, I made this fake road sign and was looking for an excuse to post and now I finally have one. I love this though I have neglected to give it a background. I was thinking of making it into a sticker but we shall see.

For more of my JDATE week art:  buffalo art

For the rest of the JDATE week art: JDATE-WEEK

anonymous asked:

Hi writingcafe! I've looked around and I can't find much on dealing with language barriers (in an old-world fantasy setting specifically). Would you suggest treating the character similar to a mute until they can learn the language? Any bit of advice you can give would be fine. Thank you for your time- you do great work!

Well, first, it’s best not to refer to non-verbal, mute, and non-speaking people as “a mute” since it’s an adjective, not a noun.

Anyway, language barriers are great in fantasy because they’re so rare. At least at large, they are. Faraway places may have different languages, but many fantasy worlds have massive areas in which everyone speaks The Common Tongue.

So I will answer your question (look at the last bolded point), but I’m also going to take this as an opportunity todiscuss language barriers in conlang.

Keep reading

automation-admiration  asked:

Sans, do you have to translate for your dad often? I suspect that the majority of the monster population aren't fluent in sign language.

“eh, actually that’s rare. theres a good amount of the monster population that only uses monster sign language. and hey, some types of monster don’t even have mouths. Its considered the norm for schools to teach msl early on.

Deaf 090 (For Writers)

It’s been a while since I posted anything informative about Deaf and Deaf culture, so here is some (verybasic culture stuff.

But here is my warning: the information below is enough to be dangerous.  Just because you read this little list doesn’t mean you know everything about Deaf people or their cultural practices.  It is merely a primer for you to use as you write to make your characters more realistic, and it’s certainly not comprehensive.  The best way to learn is to willingly put yourself among Deaf people and see how we  interact.

Keep reading

The cotton ceiling argument has never been about saying that all cis lesbians should be willing to fuck trans women, and that that is how they choose to frame it (as a conversation of who they will or will not fuck) is super telling about why the actual intent of the argument is so important.

Cis lesbians, just like every other transmisogyny-exploiting non-tw out there, at some fundamental level see the primary mode of interaction with a trans woman to be fucking, and so they immediately assume that we are attempting to persuade them on an individual level to fuck us, which is why they hear “you should want to fuck me, or else you are a bigot” when we say “consider how your desires are rooted in bigoted beliefs about the homogeneity of trans women’s bodies and sexualities.” 

It’s a conversation about how the choice to blanket declare trans women as being unfit or unworthy of one’s desire, simply by virtue of their being a trans woman (a way of thinking which projects universal qualities of undesirability onto a diverse population) is yet another sign of how transmisogyny is rampant and pervasive in cis lesbian circles.

anonymous asked:

How do you distinguish between parental discipline and parental abuse? How do you answer "is it strict or is it abusive?"

It’s really hard to define that line. however, if you are considering that you are being abused odds are you are being abused.

also we have these resources that can help you figure out if you are being abused:

-Emm

__________________________________________

It appears Emm and I both typed a response for this at about the same time. Here’s what I wanted to add:

So, unfortunately, a lot of abusive behaviors are praised as being ‘good discipline’ and parents routinely use them and no one really discourages it. That makes it kind of hard to distinguish between the two, and also very easy for people to doubt that what they are going through is abuse.

Discipline should not be physical, and it shouldn’t rely on guilting, shaming, intimidating,  humiliating, lying or scaring. That’s pretty broad, and it’s okay to still be unsure if what your parents are doing qualifies as abuse, and you’re always welcome to ask us if you need to know more.

Here are some ‘parenting tactics’ that I see used pretty regularly that are abusive:

  1. corporal punishment (spanking, slapping etc)
  2. ignoring the child, giving them the ‘cold shoulder’
  3. denying basic needs like food or shelter (like locking a child out if they miss curfew)
  4. using very severe punishments for minor things
  5. isolating them for long periods of time
  6. embarrassing the child on purpose (like those instances of parents making their children stand in a populated area with a sign describing their ‘crime’)
  7. destroying the child’s belongings
  8. withholding love or affection, telling the child they don’t like or love them

-Sam

I’m loving Lynch’s choice of peaksy symbols on the merchandise he greenlit and partially drew himself? Owl symbol & red room pattern on the supernatural side, then Laura’s face as the only character depicted (raise your hand if you’re surprised), population sign, RR logo, Sheriff’s station logo, two paintings of his depicting the town, and this round-up of meaningful items.

Log, fish, and the trifecta of coffee, donuts and pie. Very interesting.

All disabled people experience disability as social restriction, whether those restrictions occur as a consequence of inaccessible built environments, questionable notions of intelligence and social competence, the inability of the general population to use sign language, the lack of reading material in Braille, or hostile public attitudes to people with non-visible disabilities.
—  Oliver