#wc: 1357

[cheriematt]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 — 𝒎. 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis — y/n gets car troubles in the parking lot of a book store and matt offers her a ride on his bike content warnings — use of 'y/n' , biker!matt , pet name (sweetheart) wc — 1357

Y/n joyfully walked Barnes & Noble, carefully reading the backs of books, selecting ones she would like to purchase. Her headphones filled with her favorite songs, filling her more joy.

As she was reading the back of a dark romance book when she felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Y/n removes her headphones, slinging them around her neck, her brows furrow as she looks at the man in front of her.

He lowered his arm, “Hey, I just wondering if you could direct me towards the, uh, journals?” The girl smiles warmly, setting the book down on the shelf before turning back to him, “Of course!” Y/n begins to weave through the different aisles of books, finally stopping at the stationary section, which was more of a space for anything that isn’t a book.

“Here you go, hope you find what you need.” She smiles once more, turning around on her heel, going back to the section she was previously in. Y/n continues to scan through books, finding a few more before deciding to stop herself. As she browsed the book store, she couldn’t help but thinking about the boy she’d encounted not too long ago.

As she walked to the cash register, she couldn’t help but purposely walk past the journal section, hoping she’ll see him. Y/n frowned when the brunette boy was no where to be found, she shook it off, knowing that her actions were pointless and her getting worked up over it was ridiculous.

The girl paid for her books, walking out into the parking lot. As she stalked closer to her car, she grabbed her keys out from her purse. Unlocking the black vehicle, she opened the door and sat herself in the driver’s seat. She sat her paper bag filled with books in the passenger seat, proceeding to close the driver’s side door.

Y/n retrieved the keys that she had temporarly discarded to the cup holder, fiddling with the ring before landing on her car key. She inserted the key into it’s slot, when she turned the key to start the vehicle, nothing happened. Her brows furrowed as panic flooded through her body, the girl tried once more, but got the same disapointing result.

She got out of the car, popping the hood. Y/n looked around the guts of the car, she knew nothing about cars but still looked to see if anything looked out the ordinary. As she blindly looked around the car’s mechanics, a voice appeared behind her.

“You alright?” Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin, quickly turning around to face the voice. Of course, it was him. The beautiful boy from the book store, “I— Um, yeah.” The brunette smirked, his head cocking to the side as he watched the girl try to form a audible sentence.

“Car troubles, sweetheart?” Her throat bobbed before she nodded, “I’ll be honest, I’m not too knowledgeable on cars, but if you need a ride..” Y/n’s brows furrowed, “Accepting rides from strangers is ‘How to Die: 101’.” The boy laughed, shaking his head playfully.

“Smart girl,” he responded. “I don’t even know your name, you don’t even know mine.” The boy couldn’t help the smile appearing on his face, “Well, that’s not a hard thing to learn, sweetheart.” Y/n’s cheeks redden, she looks down to the asphalt than up to the man. “Are you gonna keep calling me that?” He nods, “Til you tell me to stop.” She smiles, leaning against the car.

“It’s Matt,” he states abruptly. “What— Oh, yeah. I’m Y/n.” Matt simply nods, looking around at the dark setting. “Well, I think we’ve met your requirements—knowing each other’s names and all—so are you now willing to accept my offer?” The girl frowns, knowing that saying yes isn’t smart, but it’s just as dangerous as getting into an Uber.

Y/n bites the inside of her cheek, “What about the car?” She looks at the currently useless vehicle, then to Matt. “I can get it towed,” he suggested. “I’ll get it towed,” she corrected. Matt nodded, a small smirk apparent on his face. “C’mon, get your stuff.” The girl looked at him in confusion, “I—” He turns back to her, “I have a place for you to put your things, c’mon sweetheart.” Y/n sighed in defeat, proceeding to grab her things.

Once she’s gathered her small collection of personal items, she begins to follow Matt through the parking lot, the street lights illuminating the contours of his beautifully sculpted face.

They soon arrive at Matt’s motorcycle, Y/n freezes in her tracks. “Matt,” she whispers timidly. He turns around immediately, “Yeah, sweetheart?” The girl looked from the bike to him, “I’ve never backpacked before,” The boy smirked, “Well you’ve seem to got the lingo down,” Y/n scowls at him, “It’s not funny, Matt.” The grin was quickly erased from Matt’s face, “It’s not that bad, sweetheart. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, just lean when I lean and you’ll be good. Okay?” She bites her lip nervously, “Matt, I’m scared.” This made Matt frown, he didn’t want her to be scared, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I won’t let you get hurt, okay?” He placed his slender hands on her arms, trying to offer her comfort.

“O—Okay.” Matt rubs her shoulder soothingly, slowly walking her closer to the bike. He sets her things in the pouch he had on the side of the vehicle. Y/n stood by the side as Matt got onto his seat, “You’re up, sweetheart.” She swallows nervously, nodding her head as she walked closer to the bike. The girl did as Matt instructed, putting her right foot on the peg before slinging her left leg over. The boy grabbed his spare helmet, sliding over her head.

“Good job, baby. You did great, now where am I dropping you off?” She told him her address, waiting for him to pull directions before they set off. Y/n held her breath as he started to drive, clinging onto him for dear life. At their first red light, he informed her that she was okay. “I’m just scared, Matt.” The boy smiles, though she couldn’t she it through the helmet.

“Green,” Y/n commented simply. His head whipped around, quickly removing his left foot from the ground to continue their journey to her house.

Y/n rested her head against his back, closing her eyes and trying to not let her nerves get to her. His body warmth comforted her slightly, she shivered at the frigid air, cursing herself internally for not putting on more layers.

Matt felt this action, at the next red light, he lifted his helmet shield, “You cold, sweetheart?” She nodded, her teeth clashing against each other as a reaction to the bitter weather. “You want my jacket?” Y/n shook her head, lifting her shield as well. “I don’t want you to be cold,” she pointed out. He quickly shook his head, “I have a sweater under this, I’ll be fine, sweetheart.” The girl sighed and Matt knew she had given in, “Fine, but hurry because this light is gonna turn soon.” He smirked and quickly removed his jacket and gave it to her. Y/n slid her arms into the sleeves and wrapped her arms back around Matt.

They continued to her house, about five minutes later they arrived in front of her home. Matt stopped the vehicle and put up the kickstand, “Here we are,” he removed his helmet, shaking out his hair. Y/n took hers off as well handing it to him, grabbing her things out of his pouch.

“Should I pick you up tomorrow, to get your car?” She nodded, “That would be great, but don’t feel like you have to,” He smirked, “I’ll be here at noon.” The girl blushed and nodded, getting off of the bike.

“I’ll see you tommorrow then,” she smiled before walking over to her house. Y/n looked back and Matt was sat on his bike, watching her. The girl walked in and then looked out the window, watching him drive away.

Y/n smiled the rest of the night, she had never been more excited for the next day.

taglist ⸻ if you would like to be added please dm me or go to my inbox ! @frankdelreyy , @mattsnymphette , @mattsneezing , @islalovesmatt

[shanbinswf]

WANNABE YOURS — jay park [repost]

landing page. main masterlist.

pairing: jealous jay x afab reader

genre: mild angst, mild fluff, smut (mdni)

plot: jay doesn't like seeing you being so cozy to another man when he is right there.

wc: 1357

warnings under the cut.

warnings: jealousy jay, going to a nightclub, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of smoking but not doing it, reader and jay are both sober as they only had one drink, jay degrading reader with permission, oral (m receiving), kind of face fucking but also not.

YOU HELD JAY'S HAND LOOSELY, YOUR FREE HAND BRUSHING YOUR HAIR FROM YOUR SHOULDER.

You wore a dress that cut off at your shoulders and enough makeup to cover the red marks hiding just under the hem of your neckline, which sat lower than you were used to, but Jay assured you that you looked breathtaking despite how uncomfortable you felt.

You let Jay lead you inside the building, leading you down to the main floor of the nightclub. You felt your hand begin to sweat in his grip at the massive crowd of people, but Jay kept leading you around the edge of the nightclub before he was granted immediate access to what appeared to be a private area.

You walked through a hallway, the floor thumping from the loud music. Jay then led you to the room at the end of the hallway. Inside, you felt relief when you found his friends and some of their dates for the night. Large crowds weren’t your scene, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn Jay’s need to club down—so he met you halfway and paid for the room for the night as a pleasant surprise for you.

“Hey!” Jake walked over to hug you with one arm before he pulled away to do the same with Jay. Jake tilted his head towards the private bar in the room and grinned. “Drinks are on me tonight, so drink as much as you like.”

You instantly made your way to the bar and ordered a simple white wine, while Jay ordered a red one but chose to drink it slowly as he made the rounds with his friends, unintentionally leaving you alone.

You made your way to the corner of the room, which was lined with windows. You leaned against the wall behind you, watching the crowd of nightclubbers dancing, drinking, and enjoying everything the venue had to offer. It was far from your usual scene. You preferred going to restaurants with your friends, quieter places with more privacy.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder, then turned to find Taehyun, one of Jay’s friends. You sighed with relief, offering a small smile as you sip your drinks. “How’s it going? You look awfully lonely, pushed in the corner like this.”

You finished your mouthful of wine before placing the glass on the side table beside you. “I’m not used to being in places like this. While I appreciate the private room… It’s still a bit too loud and crowded for my liking.”

Taehyun nodded with an understanding smile, drinking a glass of what appeared to either be beer or some other kind of golden fizzy alcohol. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come to hang out with us when it isn’t at one of our houses or a rented-out room. It’s a surprise Jay got with someone as introverted as you.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest. “Is that meant to be some kind of insult?” You asked but tried to ensure your voice remained light, knowing he usually never meant any harm with his words; he was just a bit too honest for your liking sometimes.

Taehyun gasped and then playfully slapped his hand over his lips before he laughed and smiled, his cheeks and neck turning red from guilt at the idea of insulting you. “That didn’t come out how I intended; I’m sorry.”

And despite his slip-up with words, you ended up spending the whole night chatting and even dancing when you got drunk enough with Taehyun.

Jay threw you against the bathroom wall, ignoring how you were both still dressed. You let out a while as one of his hands cupped the side of your neck, the other holding onto your hip tightly.

“What did I do to make you so riled up?” You asked, holding back a moan as Jay ghosted his lips over yours, but then he threw his head into your neck to roughly suck and bite, leaving a trail of red marks alongside the ones that had begun to fade from a few days prior.

“You thought prancing around in that tight little dress with his hands on you would be okay with me, did you?” Jay pulled back to stare into your eyes as he said those words, his eyes dark and possessive.

“I wasn’t prancing around-” You tried to defend yourself, but Jay pressed his lips to yours, his teeth nipping at your lips lightly.

“Go ahead, slut. Try and defend yourself. If you’re not careful with your words, your ass will be bright red.” Jay threatened against your lips, to which you instantly closed yours, pursing them hard for effect.

Jay smirked as his hand slowly snaked around your neck, lightly holding your neck but not squeezing. He leant down to peck your lips.

“Be a good whore and show me who owns that sweet mouth and pussy of yours,” His words caused an ache to begin to pool in your panties, and you instantly fell to your knees.

Your hands rushed to unbuckle his belt; then you pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift movement. You bit back a smirk at the fact he was already rock hard. Your hand was like a magnet, instantly reaching to wrap around the base of his cock before you stuck your tongue out and licked the tip teasingly, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Jay threw his head back for a moment to compose himself before he gripped your face with his hand, pulling your face away from his dick. “Tease me again and see where it’ll get you, baby girl. I don’t think you want to be risking that tonight.”

You nod your head, so he let go of your face, and you opened your mouth, hallowing your cheeks before you take as much of him as you can, using your hand to jerk the rest of him.

Jay’s hand had nowhere else to go, so his fingers gently tangled into your hair close to the root after he pushed your face from your face so he could get the best view. His mouth was slack, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to try and keep himself composed.

Your mouth moved up and down, your tongue gently licking the tip when you pulled him out enough to do so. Your hand dared to move to his balls, causing Jay to finally let out a moan to let you know you were doing all the right things.

“God, my good little slut only gets on her knees like this for me, right?” Jay asks, tugging your hair to pull you off his dick as he patiently awaiting your reply.

“You, it’s only you,” You replied, pushing your thighs together as you swore you could cum just from the sight of him panting and close from only your mouth and hand.

Jay groaned in response, content with your words. His hand still tangled in your hair; he pulled your mouth back onto his cock and held your head still as he decided to thrust into your throat. When it came to head, he came so fast he would be embarrassed if he didn’t know how much it got you excited.

Jay was letting out groans and moans, cursing your name between. “‘M gonna cum for you. Can my pretty little slut swallow all my cum like the good girl I know you can be?”

You tried to nod enthusiastically but had no space to do so, his grip too tight on your head, so instead, you let out a moan around him, sending him over the edge. He came in your mouth, pulling out as he did so for fear of making it too much for you.

You started right up at Jay, your eyes looking innocent, but how you forced yourself to swallow his thick liquid caused another moan to fall from his lips. “Such a pretty slut. I think you deserve a reward for being so good to me, right?”

[catierambles]

Control Ch.3

Pairing: Au!Walter Marshall x Jessica Talbot (OFC)

WC 1357

Warnings: eh....none? Some cuteness at the end I guess, but that’s not really anything to be warned about.

Jessica moved around her kitchen, plating up a late dinner when there was a knock at her door. Setting the plate down at her small dining room table, she went to the door and opened it, immediately coming face first with a large bouquet of roses. It lowered slightly and she looked at Walter who was standing on her doorstep, holding said bouquet.

“Hi.” He said.

“Hello.” She replied and there was a pause.

“Can I come in?” He asked and she thought for a moment.

“Do you need to be invited in?” She asked.

“Didn’t have to be last night, and you were in no position to do any inviting, so…”

“No, I wasn’t, being unconscious and all.” She said and he had the good graces to look a little embarrassed. “Yeah, you can come in.” She took the flowers from him and stepped back, letting him into the apartment. “I’m going to find something to put these in.” She said, turning and walking back into the kitchen. Digging through her cabinets, she found an old vase and rinsed the dust out of it, filling it with water and setting the flowers inside, leaving it on her kitchen counter. When she came back out, he was still standing by her door, looking very much like he didn’t know what to do.

“Am I interrupting dinner?” He asked and she shrugged.

“You’re fine.” She said, “Can you even eat?”

“To keep up appearances, but it makes me sick.” Walter explained briefly and she stared at him for a bit before shrugging again. “I like the smell of food though, and whatever you made smells amazing.”

“Just some bacon carbonara.”

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

“A bit.” She said, nodding.

“I wanted to apologize again.”

“For biting me.” She said, “And drinking my blood.”

“Yes, that.”

“Walter…” She said with a sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Fuck I can’t believe I’m saying this. As long as you don’t make it a habit, I’m fine. Still moderately freaked out, but fine.”

“I promise, I will only bite you if you ask me to.” He said and she gave him an incredulous look.

“Why would I ever ask you to?”

“I’m just putting it out there.” He said, “I’m guessing you may have some questions.”

“Only about a billion.” She said.

“That low, huh?” He asked and she snorted, “Ask away.”

“Can I eat and ask?” She asked.

“Of course, don’t let me keep you from your dinner.” He followed her into the apartment, sitting across from her at the table.

“So,” She started, twirling some pasta around her fork. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-nine.” He replied instantly and she gave him another look. “What?”

“At the risk of sounding like a teenage vampire romance movie starlet, how long have you been thirty-nine?”

“A while.” He said.

“Let’s not quote any more of that movie.”

“Please.”

“When were you born?”

“Summer of 1484.”

“So you’re like, old as fuck old.” She said eating the forkful and he snorted. “I’m guessing you didn’t go by “Walter Marshall” back then.”

“No.” He said and she looked at him, waiting for him to continue and he sighed. “Charles Brandon.”

“Charles Brandon.” She echoed and he nodded. “Wait, 1484 Charles Brandon.” He could see the wheels turning in her head. “First Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon?”

“Yes.” He said with a nod.

“Best bro of Henry the Eighth, Charles Brandon.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say we were best bros, man nearly had me executed when I married Mary without his consent, but yes.” He said and she gave him a long look across the table. “What?”

“You’re fucking with me.” She said pointing the fork at him, “You gotta be.”

“My hand to god.” He said raising a hand and she dropped her fork, covering her face with her hands with a groan. “What?”

“I wrote a high school term paper on you.” She said and he laughed.

“Did you really?” He asked with a wide smile, “Do you still have it? I’d love to read it.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Jessica said, dropping her hands. “But you got married, you had kids.”

“Yeah.” He said with a nod.

“You died at like…60.”

“Officially, yes.”

“So, who the hell is buried at Windsor?”

“A cousin with a strong family resemblance.” He said and there was a long silence. “You okay? You look like you’re having an existential crisis.” She just brought her hands up to her head, gesturing and making a small explosion sound with her mouth which made him laugh again.

“So when were you…you know.”

“Turned?” He supplied helpfully and she nodded. “Shortly after I invaded France in Calais.” He said and could see her thinking again.

“Thirty-nine years old, 1484, yeah you were in Calais in 1523. History checks out.”

“You research that for your paper?” He asked with a smug smile.

“Shut up.” She said and he snorted. “Did you return to England…after?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Henry knew something wasn’t right when I got back, so I told him. My…affliction was thought to be a product of “witchcraft and devilry”, not far from the truth to be honest. I thought he was going to have me killed right there, but he didn’t.” Walter said, looking down at the table.

“What’d he do?”

“Locked me away in the Tower, put one of my cousins in my place.”

“Tower of London.” She said and he nodded. “Shit. That must have been…rough.”

“To put it mildly.” He said, “After “I” died, I escaped and left England behind. Made my way to the Americas. Haven’t been back since.”

“Fuck.” She said, “So, let me ask you something else.”

“Shoot.”

“All of the depictions of …you. The books, the movies, the TV shows. How much did they get right, and how much did they get wrong?” She asked and he thought for a moment, making a small sound.

“More wrong than right.” He said.

“My paper was probably a crock of shit then.” She said and he gave her a small smile.

“I’m sure you did your best. Did you get a good grade, at least?”

“Yes, I got a good grade.” She said and sighed, looking down at her plate of food. “I don’t even want this anymore.”

“I’m sorry I turned you off your appetite.”

“No, no you’re fine. I’ll have the rest tomorrow.” She said as she got up, taking the plate with her into the kitchen and pulling out a container, pushing the food into it and snapping the lid on. “That little lie you told got me a couple days off, so I’m good. So do I call you “Charles” or do I call you “Walter”?”

“Walter, please.” He said, “It would confuse people if you called me Charles.”

“You could always say it’s your middle name.” She offered helpfully.

“Let’s just stick with Walter.” He said and got up from his chair. “I should probably go, it’s getting late and you probably want to head to bed.”

“But I have so many more questions!” She said as she joined him at the door and he chuckled.

“Another time.” He said and she gave him a curtsey.

“My Lord Duke.” She said and he gave her a pained look.

“Please don’t.” He said and she gave him a smile which he returned.

“Thanks for the flowers.” She said, “And for answering some of my questions.”

“Yeah it was nice to talk about it openly.” He admitted as he opened the door to leave, “I don’t really have many chances to.”

“I can only imagine.” She said and there was a pause before he leaned in quickly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She had a small blush when he pulled away and he caught as she tried to resist a smile. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He said and left, hearing the door close behind him. When he was gone, she leaned back against the door, stifling a small giggle against her hand, with only the smallest thought of “oh my god what am I doing” crossing over her mind.

[narilgc]

𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 meets casting call 005 auditions, 091620 !                                                  ↪  reading a script & partaking in an interview ! [ 👑 ]

wc: 1,357 words

cram school could be described as a journey and a half, and although the ending was very bittersweet, she’s grateful to get a break. nari had thought that she’d be bummed after realizing she wouldn’t be able to go big and audition for another lead role, but cram school has taught her to appreciate something very important - rest. it hadn’t been much after the filming of new faces that the drama had started up, and so nari found herself exhausted once it was all over. 

so she’s not upset that today she’ll be auditioning for a support role. instead, she’s pretty excited. there was even more challenge in making the most our of a smaller part. and as they say .... there’s no such thing as small roles - just small actors, right ? and nari would not be small.

the read-through goes pretty well, the emotional one being her best performed on nari’s terms. she wasn’t too used to being naturally funny on camera yet, and it was hard to connect to the romantic script without any real memories to attach her emotions to. though some of the parts have been rocky, the confidence that nari has gone into the whole thing with assures her that no matter what, she can still come out with fairly good results. sureness of herself was certainly a new concept, and something she was grateful to be slowly obtaining after her performance was well received. compliments were nari’s power up, after all.

she’s shocked to hear that there’s an interview at the end of the audition, although by now she should be prepared for just about any tricks legacy has down their sleeves. as they explain the interview to her a thousand thoughts already run through her head, wondering which side of herself she wanted to most prominently show to the panel. no, no, no. just be yourself. your whole, true self. she wants to be as authentic as possible, especially considering the premise of the show, but there’s always that lingering doubt running through her mind.

but there’s no time to think on that. for now, the interview.

“ what is the meaning of family to you ? ”

“ oh ! well, this is an easy one, ” she blurts out without thinking, a grin appearing on her face. “ family is ... family is wild, and bold, and fun ! to me, it’s getting mad at my brother’s when i was younger for teasing me, and laughing it off when they gave me piggy back  rides. and it’s not just my human family, either ! all the farm animals, even the small ones - especially the small ones - they’re all my family. it’s chaotic, and loud, and .... messy, at times, but they’re family to me ! ”

nari is evidently much more comfortable with the interview given the premise, not expecting to have gotten a topic so fond to her. hopefully, the rest of the interview will go as smoothly.

“ how would you describe your relationship with your family ? ”

“ hm ... ” that’s a hard one. with so many people in the mix, it’s hard to decide on just one thing. but, she figures there’s one thing that seems to pertain to all her family members nowadays. “ transitioning, ” she settles on, nodding along with her words. “ our relationship is transitioning. i think the more i grow, and the longer i go out and live life on my own, i see that our dynamic is changing ! and not really ... in a bad way, per se ! it’s just ... different. we’re all growing up ! and i guess that’s how life works, but it definitely is weird when you’re the one who life is changing around. ”

“ which word would you associate family to ? ”

“ chaos, ” she doesn’t hesitate to say, a playful grin creeping onto her face. “ i mean, i don’t know about your family, miss, but if you’re anything like us, i’m sure you get no sleep ! ” she jokes, abruptly bringing the attention on the interviewer ... much in nari fashion. “ most of the time i love it, i do, but oh my gosh things can get hectic. you’ll have some of my playful brothers running around with each other, my quieter brothers studying or ... something like that, my dad is out on the farm, and my mom’s making some sort of new clothing trend. and ... me ? i’m somehow jumbled into the mix. so ! i think you could definitely call us ... very chaotic. ”

“ if you were to describe your position/role within your family, what would it be ? ”

“ the baby, ” she answers, face warming to a slight red with embarrassment. she wonders just how many other people they’ve interviewed share that role in their respective families, but she can’t lie. it’s the truth. “ i’m the youngest of a whopping six older brothers, and of course, a loving mom and dad. so uh ... i definitely am the baby of the bunch. no doubt about it ! ” though she always denies being a baby in her family’s presence, it’s a title she takes with pretty solid pride, and has had for so long that it’s just become a part of her. “ i definitely seem to get babied and protected by all the kids in the house. it’s ... nice, if i’m being honest.  it’s comforting to know everyone loves you so much ! and even if it’s annoying, i appreciate everyone looking after me. ”

“ what is your strongest family memory ? ”

hm ... stumped. there’s so many, so how can she narrow it down to just one ? “ hm. well if i have to pick just one, i think it’d be when i was like three and we were all taking christmas family pictures. you know, like the ones that look real 90′s, where everyone has those cheesy sweaters on ? exactly that. well, turns out, the photographer we went to was super rude, and my brothers were all acting so busy, they wouldn’t stand still for the picture. we just ended up going home and taking pictures outside at the farm ! i think that was a moment that was initially chaotic, like i told you are family always is. but i think that was the first time i realized our chaos can also be ... a little endearing, you know ? when we were all sitting there together, laughing and taking pictures, i think that showed me for the first time how important memories are over material. ”

“ if your family was to be portrayed in a drama, what type of drama would it be? ”

“ ooh, what a good question ! ” the female praises, knees bouncing in excitement at the idea, “ hm ... honestly, my mind wandered to comedy first, but i don’t think that’s it. we’re more ... controlled than that. oh ! you know what we are ? a parody. something that seems to be serious at first sight, and really have it together ? that part’s my more serious brothers, and my dad, sometimes me. but then the joke comes in, completely changing the drama and how you expected it to be ! i think that part’s especially my younger brothers, my mom, and ... you know, a little bit of me in there too ! ” satisfied with her answer, she nods, a smile coming to her face. “ yes, that’s what i think ! ”

following the interview, nari thanks them for her time, as she’s rehearsed over a hundred times in her head. grinning, she makes her way towards the door, satisfied with the course of the audition. no matter how the judges felt, the questions made nari think deeply about her relationship with her family, and gave her the opportunity to express those thoughts to someone else for a change. and that ? was worth everything.

[aerielz]

the good days of two days ago

fandom: the west wing pairing: JD wc: 1357 tw: canon-compliant ptsd and self-harm

Josh had been avoiding GW like the plague, which is at least half the reason he didn't think to go have his hand looked at.

Of course, this is where Donna brings him.

He does his best not to hesitate too much when they walk in, and is pleasantly surprised when he goes through the doors and can still breathe right. Nothing changes. He doesn't have the knee-jerk reaction he thought he'd have. Still, it feels weird. The walls are recognizable. He can name some of the faces behind the counters, knows which ways go where.

But this is after. And, somehow, after feels worse.

People find it hard to believe he remembers anything after his surgery — and to be fair it's less of a remembrance and more of an acceptance of what he's been told —, but what he finds harder to believe is the extent of his own hubris.

He's well aware that when he asked "what's next?", he couldn't have known that three months later he'd be regretting that question this much.

(Almost dying had to have been as bad as it could get. Right? So bring on the next challenge.)

But he does know now, and he wants, more than anything, to go back to the perfect bliss of ignorance. To that moment just before the bullet pierced his skin, when he didn't know he was capable of harming himself just so he could concentrate on something other than his own thoughts. When his future consisted of nothing wilder than a celebratory beer before dinner.

There will never be a moment like that one again.

When he sits down on a chair and lets Donna take care of everything, this is when it finally hits him.

Even if he's ever done with this. Even if he can accept that he'll get better — and the jury is still out on that one — he'll never know what it's like to not have been shot at, anymore. He'll never know what's like to not have nightmares about it. To not feel like his own mind is not safe anymore. To not have to battle his own head for a second of peace.

He'll always know this, now.

It's an integral part of who he is whether he likes it or not and he doesn't, and the tall darkness of that truth casts a long shadow over everything else.

He flexes his hand and the sharp pain makes him wince, cutting his train or thoughts. He takes a look at Donna, who's talking to… Laura, he thinks, about God knows what.

And he can't feel anything.

Where once was this warm feeling at just the sight of her, Josh finds only space. A big, empty, space where he knows the doubts will go and disturbing thoughts will pool to form a lake for him to drown in.

There are many of those spaces, these days.

He almost bled to death in Rosslyn, and he was still alive when they took him out of there, but he wonders—

"What have I left there…?" he mutters to himself.

"At the White House?” Donna asks, sitting beside him. “You can get it back later."

Josh swallows, not sure how to explain himself.

“Yeah.” He's never felt so tired. A tired he knows sleep can't fix. "Sure."

Donna stirs beside him.

He feels her silence, rather than listens for it. Feels her thinking. Gets a little jealous that she can do it this freely.

"You know..." She says, "when I was a kid, I must've been about thirteen, I tripped on a cat and broke my arm."

Josh glances sideways to her instinctively. There's much he doesn't know anymore, but his body still knows the movement of their routines, and he's glad when he realizes those can still carry him through the motions of being him.

Donna gives him an embarrassed smile, continues, "Yeah, it's was this stupid— we had this gray cat who was always running around the house and this one time Angie was at a party, it was Halloween.

“My brothers were out, too, I can't remember where they went— anyway, it was just me and mom, at home, and I had come down with something. A flu, I think. People were having fun and I was just there watching some movie on TV, bored out of my mind. I was sick, I couldn't do anything about it. So... at some point the movie went to commercials, right, and I went to my bedroom to get something. I heard it coming back and I ran back to the TV room. The freaking cat ran in front of me, got tangled in my legs and I fell down on my left arm.”

There's a second while he processes that information.

"This is so very you," he says, "You know that, right?"

"Yes," she covers her face with her hands,  "Yes, I do."

"No, I just—" but how can he explain? How can he make her see that, right now, knowing solid things about one's self feels to him like the highest of compliments?—

"The thing is, Josh," she interrupts, fingers nervously fiddling with a loose string in her coat, "What really happened is that I did try to do something about being sick.

“Mom kept some of the stronger medicine we had on a high shelf in the bathroom. There was nothing there that could get me out of a flu, I mean, it's a flu you mostly just wait it out. But I didn't want to wait anymore so—”, she has a rueful smile on her lips, now, “I couldn't reach it. The shelf. So I tried balancing on the lip of the bathtub. Mom was in the kitchen but the cat was there. He was just… looking at me. Like he knew this was gonna be blamed on him. Anyway, I fell. And I broke my arm. But it was hard to believe that truly happened, I couldn't believe I’d been so stupid. And so I—"

"Tripped on the cat," he finishes.

"I tripped on the cat," she repeats, "I think my mom knew anyway...? I think she saw right through it the moment she took a good look at me. But she never said anything, she just... took me to the hospital, and took care of me. She knew it would hurt too much to explain”.

There's a pause, just a moment, and in Josh flashes the understanding that she's never told this anyone.

"Whatever it is you forgot at the White House, you'll get it back," she tells him.

Josh feels water spring from under his eyes, and the light bouncing off her hair feels too bright. He directs his gaze back to the posters on the other side of the corridor.

"There's a bunch of people there to help," she continues, "We'll find it eventually. You don't have to look on your own."

He can't find his voice to answer, he just nods.

“Besides, the important things always turn up eventually,” she says, still solemn. Then she takes a sharp turn towards the trivial, “Oh, and did you know the White House has one of the best lost and found departments out there? All that security, I mean, figures.”

She starts describing the intricate world of lost articles and they get called up by a nurse.

He doesn't wonder what's next, this time. He does his best not to ask himself if he'll ever feel that warmth at the sight of her again — he doesn't want to burden himself with concerns for the future when the present feels uncertain enough.

There will be more challenges to face, for sure. But right now, there's this. His head blissfully empty and the sound of her voice, anchoring him outside of his own mind. He doesn't have to remember the gaps, and the empty spaces, or worry about where the pleasant things that were in there went.

Josh can just listen to her. The ebb and flow of her voice, loud and clear and rising high above the sounds of the emergency room.

[theshipsfirstmate]

Agents of SHIELD Fic: We Always Walked a Very Thin Line

post-7x10, Daisy-centric angst fic, with a fair bit of dousy.

Title from “Exile” by Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver. Let me be the 10,000th person to title a fic from folklore (but Justin Vernon did what he needed to do on this track).

We Always Walked a Very Thin Line (AO3 - wc: 1357)

Daisy’s thought a lot about all the ways that death could come for her -- all the ways she could bleed out or burn up or be torn to tiny particles by the powerful emptiness of space. She never thought it could be like this.

She feels it in her chest and down her spine, when Malick snaps Jiaying’s neck, and instinctively, she looks down at her hands, some small part wondering if she’ll just fade away instantly. But it doesn’t happen like that, either.

May gets the shot off behind him, and takes chase when he runs, and then it’s just the two of them in the empty hallway, Daisy and her mother — a woman she could barely look in the eyes just minutes ago, but is connected to in even more ways than their shared DNA. The whole world goes fuzzy around her and she lowers herself to the floor, taking in shaky breaths that leave her lightheaded.

She can’t tell if the metal walls of the base are actually shaking with tremors, or if that’s just her. Her bones have been shuddering since the moment she prepared to fire back at Malick and it’s not going away. Another lightbulb explodes overhead and she barely registers the sound or loss of light. It feels like the early days of her powers, like she could flatten a city block or turn a skyscraper inside out, like the whole world could come apart at the seams if she just stopped trying to hold it together.

She sees her reflection flicker in Jiaying’s lifeless eyes, strokes a hand through hair that feels like her own, and wonders if it might come apart anyway.

“Sometimes trying to do the right thing comes out all wrong.”

It’s the kind of lesson every child deserves from their mother, and it’s one she’s spent 30-plus lonely years learning time and time again all by herself. It shouldn’t ache like this, to have had a tiny, stolen taste of the compassion she’s always craved, and then have it ripped away. There shouldn’t be this much space to mourn someone she never really knew.

But the universe is cruel, and a sob rips from her chest before she even feels it coming. She can feel herself starting to crumble, and worries this time it might be permanent.

They’re losing. The battles, the war, their people, all of it. They’re just barely scraping by every single time and she promised herself she’d fight until the bitter end. But what if she can’t?

It must be minutes later, but it could be hours, even days, before she feels hands on her shoulders, a familiar timbre in her ear. Everything sounds muffled, like she’s been packed in cotton, and she’s barely any help at all as they pull her to her feet.

Simmons and Deke are gone, May relays, and part of Daisy slips even further away. What happens to her if the timeline has bent around the circumstances of her birth? There are maybe three people in the whole universe who could make a close approximation, and their lives are all in immediate jeopardy.

Then, in her line of vision, there’s Sousa, with his unwavering, steadying presence. Daniel, her brain supplies privately. It’s okay to call him that here, it’s okay to think of him that way if she’s not going to live to regret it.

He takes her face in his hands and she can’t tell if they’re burning or freezing, or if she even feels them at all. She can read the concern in his eyes more clearly than she can hear it off his lips.

“I think she’s in shock.” He’d told her before that the things that scared him didn’t show on his face, but this one does.

“Jiaying,” May pauses before she finishes, like she knows what this will do to them both, “was her mother.”

Daisy watches two faces register the agonizing truth, and remembers, slowly — May does know what this means. To both of them. She can feel it. 

Daniel turns back to her, and the way devastated shock melts immediately to selfless compassion in his eyes is enough to break whatever’s left of her heart.

She kissed him once, in another time. It feels like a tragedy now, that he can’t remember. Or maybe it’s a mercy. Part of her thought she might get another chance to try for one they’d both know was real. 

It’s been so long since she hoped for anything like that. 

And if she drowns in the rapids they’ve created in the timestream, if she vanishes into the ether of things that never were, what then? Will he forget her? Will they all?

Daniel’s a soldier, he carries these things with him — the tarnished flip side on a medal of honor. Daisy doesn’t think enough of herself to believe he holds her as highly as he does Peggy Carter, but she knows it’ll hurt him if something happens to her. And that’s quickly become the last thing she wants to do.

She’s never been someone who longed for the trappings of a “normal” life, not for a long time, anyway. But standing here now, on knees that feel like they’re about to buckle under the existential weight of an unwinnable fight, that feels like another regret. A world where she gets to watch her friends — her family, she’d insisted to Enoch when he warned her — grow old together, lead long, joyful lives full of love and laughter, it might as well be a fairy tale. 

The focal point on humanity has sharpened down to a pinhole. There’s no room for dreams, there’s only their team, and the fight for continued existence. 

Daniel helps her to an empty bunk, and she protests weakly, knowing there isn’t any time to waste. But her body follows him instead. She’s just so tired.

Don’t let me fade away, she wants to tell him. Don’t let me go.

She fairly certain she doesn’t say it out loud, but somehow he knows. It shouldn’t surprise her by now, but it still does, when he settles into a chair next to her bunk and reaches out to take one of her hands firmly in his own. She can still feel it, or at least she thinks she can.

“Daniel,” she whispers, the first time she’s called him by his first name, the first time she’s spoken out loud since calling helplessly after her mother. 

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He meets her eyes with his usual resolve and the question she’s been working herself up to ask comes out as little more than a breath. “Will you stay?”

He squeezes her hand and bows his head and she wishes she could tell him that he’s a mirror image of the man whose eyes twinkled in a telling way when he admitted he’d like be the one to pick her up after she ran into a brick wall. He’s still that man, she realizes. She should have kissed him again when she had the chance.

Daisy’s been preparing to die for years now. But it seems so unfair, that it could come just as she was remembering what it felt like to live.

Then Daniel answers -- “Of course I’ll stay. I’m where I need to be.” -- and she remembers what it felt like when he promised her they were going home. 

She was hazy then, too, in and out of consciousness and mired in the torturous pain her mother knew before her. But she’d heard him say it, over and over again, and she knew he believed it even now.

Home.

If she’s still here when she wakes up, maybe they’ll finally get there.

[archonssun]

Don’t Take it to Heart - Masterlist

This is the masterlist for my Prompto x OC story. I’ll try to update it whenever I post a new chapter of the story.

(Also, sorry for the mobile users. I still haven’t figured out how to link my stories without forcing the browser to open...)

Current WC: 26,034

Updated 06-10-2020

Chapter One; WC: 1065

Chapter Two; WC: 971

Chapter Three; WC: 1473

Chapter Four; WC: 1073

Chapter Five; WC: 1227

Chapter Six; WC: 1223

Chapter Seven; WC: 1298

Chapter Eight; WC: 1357

Chapter Nine; WC: 1103

Chapter Ten; WC: 1022

Chapter Eleven; WC: 1284

Chapter Twelve; WC: 1215

Chapter Thirteen; WC: 984

Chapter Fourteen; WC: 887

Chapter Fifteen; WC: 1020

Chapter Sixteen; WC: 860

Chapter Seventeen; WC: 1235

Chapter Eighteen; WC: 1145

Chapter Nineteen; WC: 1166

Chapter Twenty; WC: 1204

Chapter Twenty-One; WC: 1058

Chapter Twenty-Two; WC: 1198

Chapter Twenty-Three; WC: 966

Chapter Twenty-Four; WC:

[cruelafterglow]

does it burn when i’m not there? (2/3)

pairing: charlie x pansy setting: non magical au, neighbors au wc: 1357 words notes: second part. warnings ‘cause it’s clearly nc-17 and smutty and my first one. It’s a little shitty but it’s a wild ride. enjoy.

After this curious meeting, all she does is taking a cold shower. Shampoo stings her eyes, it’s irritating, it’s burning, it’s not enough to forget the vision of his body, or the sound of his deep voice or –

She turns off the water abruptly.

And, she takes two martinis and she drinks it down in one. Alcohol warms her body better than anyone else, better than any guys who cross the door to just put a hand in her panties, better than him who stays an insoluble enigma.

And an annoying hottie, for sure.

It has always been like that. Alcohol was the only thing keeping her hands from shaking when she was lonely, regretting the old times (bad times) when she shared a tiny bedroom with Daphne and her incessant babbling, chatting, living happily ever after.

She had left, hands in her pockets, a ferocious gaze on Blaise’s curve’s neck. She was successful now, living a tough fairytale in New York city, lunch 3 times a week with some big fashion designer.

Daphne is shining in the city that never sleeps, but Pansy is the one who never sleeps, looking at the cellar without seeing any stars.

Pansy is not surprised when he opens his door. It’s late afternoon. Her fist stills suspended in the air, an inch away from his torso, contracted by the smell of gin and by the acid taste of lemon on the tip of her tongue.

She knows he knows she is drunk as hell. He raises an eyebrow, not so surprised, but keeps his heroic smile.

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m drunk, Weasley.” She says quietly like if she was whispering a secret but with a proud smile because he would be the only one to know.

“Yeah. I can see that. Actually, I can smell that.”

He is leaning on the door, the natural light of the room highlights the red of his lips, of his hair, of his freckles, of his scars –

She wants to move closer but her feet are glued to the floor and her tongue is too heavy to asks him for permission.

He doesn’t move.

“I…I would like to know who you think you are for strutting with your dreamy abs and some tragic backstories written on your torso.”

He laughs for the first time: it’s a deep, cavernous sound. It’s like the sun echoing on the wall of a hollow tunnel.

“I would like to know why you seems so unaffected by your own life but so infect to others.”

“It’s how it works.” She answers, brushing his arm in an unconscious movement.

Conscious, her mind would be screaming, alert messages, she would be burning.

He does notices but he doesn’t move his arm, he keeps going with watching her straight in the eyes.

A crooked smile ablaze the hair of her neck.

“It’s how I am.” He says, pulling her nearer.

His lips are cracked and dry and hot and she doesn’t want to think to the kind of hell she’s in because his hands are everywhere on her body and always lower.

He pushes her against a wall. His strong palms cup her face but she doesn’t want to see him so she digs in, dives in. She kisses and kisses and kisses until she forgets her own names, or until she forgets that she doesn’t know his.

It bothers her while he passes a hand under her silk shirt and she has a burning desire to moan his name.

“Weasley” she groans, putting her weight on the wooden furniture scratching her back. “What is your fucking name”

“Charles. Charlie. As you want.”

She omits to explain that she does not want but need, but crave, for taking, and taking.

“Pansy.”

It’s the only thing that she concedes to give him now.

She gasps because he has two big calloused hands and a skin so textured that she feels the bumps on his scars when she licks it with her pink tongue.

“Right now, I want to see more of you than just your top half.”

He unzips his jeans with an expert hand but can’t help himself but break apart their feverish kiss to mumble:

“my room is kind of messy right now…travels, animals stuff…”

Again. Animals.

“I don’t care” she cuts him short, pressing her against his almost-entirely naked body.

“but I have a great shower” he continues.

“I love that. I love shower.”

She thinks about the one she has taken earlier, her soaked hair flattened on her skull and her red eyes. A cold shower.

He takes off his clothes off, leading her to the bathroom with one hand on her ass and the other clenched in her hair.

They are in underwear. She’s glad that it’s her red lingerie, with too much lace and not enough skin visible. Something pricey like La Perla or some shit and she doesn’t even remember if she has taken off the price tag.

He slows down and she closes her eyes because she feels what he’s doing. He’s watching, maybe admiring, maybe loving what he sees and she cannot bear it.

She has a heartache, a headache, and the tiles behind her back and under her feet are cold enough to remind her that she is not drunk enough to –

He pushes the water button and he pushes his mouth against hers and she moans as the water tickles against her face like tears, like holy water.

She raises her leg to his shoulder so they are aligned and she can feel every bone of his waist and his cock hardened. She buries her face in his chest, biting, grasping.

She feels her abdomen pulsing and pulsing, crashing into waves stronger than the lash of water wetting Charlie’s – Weasley’s – hair.

Her head is arching against the tiles, far away from him and from the thought of him almost inside her. She feels him pushing against her wetness with dilated pupils and a hard grasping on her cheeks. His hands are wet and she hopes that they won’t slide on the floor until it’s over.

His weight is crushing her in a good way and she welcomes the water dropping on the top of her lips as she raises her heads up like in a prayer.

“Are you going to fuck me for the love of god! Charlie!”

He lifts her and she wraps her legs around his tights.

When he comes with a savage moaning she lingers over his swollen lips, just breathing.

He’s good. Good like really good, like better than Regulus (this dark boy who drowns himself in familial duties and only fucks her because she has the name and the rank and the expensive bras.) ever was, or even Draco when she was sad and he was lonely (it was every night at his place before he meets Astoria.)

But, unlike to the others, he can’t shut his fucking mouth or close his blue eyes that are clung to her face.

“I…Am I enough to sober you up?” he moaned.

“You are good.” she whispers “but you are disappointing.”

She winks at him and he must have an ego lion-sized because he speeds up the pace, making her come, she buries her nails into her back and he groans with satisfaction.

“you haven’t answered to my questions” she manages to articulate, her mouth filled of excitation and water. “and I hate to be waiting.”

“Have been a bit busy lately.”

He steps back. Slowly. Slowly enough to see her lashes flushing quickly on her face and her bright eyes and her hard tits and her wet-glowing skin.

The first thoughts that hit Pansy post-orgasm is that it’s the second thing that she has learned about him.

He has an incredible shower. And this one is enough to keep her awake at night.

“So…?”

“I work in an animal reserve, in a zoo too. Mostly exotic animals, dangerous one.”

“And, you like exhibit.”

“I like air and outdoor.”

“and shower sex…” she concludes with a provocative smile.

“And shower sex.” He agrees with a wide grin.

[guadalajaradispensas]

films 168217&168218- matrimonios parte 4-2/2

https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:9392-6L9B-XD?cc=1874591&cat=29324

001/599 168217

002/600 oah 2520 pt.8

004/602 slate

005/603 continua

006/604 marcelo antonio melendez & maria nieves ramirez / ?

009/607 santiago portillo & manuela carransco / guadalajara

018/616 remigio cervantes & bernarda munoz / atotonilco

024/622 esiquio garcia & maria daria / tepechitlan

029/627 teodoro soto & benedicta yanes / guadalajara

033/631 juan bautista igelsias & antonia lopez / guachinango

038/636 antonio gomez & jacinta alvarez / jalostotitlan

043/641 manuel diaz & ? / tenamastlan

051/649 rafael cobarrubias & diega garcia / autlan

055/653 antonio diaz & viviana casillas / tepetitlan

060/658 teofilo cuellar & bartola cervantes/ san juan

076/674 hipolito salises & ynes mesa / purificacion

081/679 felipe cabanas & agustina fuente / guadalajara

084/682 miguel (?)  blanco & ? / barca

088/686 vicente serrano & jacoba salcedo / ?

092/690 jesus sotelo & isabel villalobos / ?

096/694 antonio zalazar & josefa perez / guadalajara

099/697 agapito (?) & maria placida / guadalajara

102/700 nicolas quezada & agaptia marin / nochistlan

105/703 gervacio romero & romana delgado / ?

109/707 ygnacio padilla & maria jesus gonzalez / jalostotitlan

115/713 ramon degadillo & andrea quezada / yahualica

122/720 pablo cobarrubias & marcela santillan / chimaltitan

126/724 jose flores & senobia maldonado / ponictlan

130/728 domingo razura & rosa gonzalez / ocotlan

134/732 marcos ramirez & diega salas / colotlan *tree 137/735

139/737 francisco garcia & juana nepomucena valdez / jalpa *tree 144/742

148/746 vicente mena & juliana garcia / jalpa

159/757 jose maria hoyo & bacilia martinez / zacatecas

164/762 marcial loya & maria salome de la cruz perez / adoves

170/768 casimiro gomez & maria jesus macias / mexticacan

176/774 teodoro de avila & ygnacia ortega / tabasco

182/780 jose de la torre & maria jesus gonzalez / tepatitlan

187/785 rafael gutierrez & jesus gutierrez / san juan

194/792 jose adame & maria bruna del refugio rodriguez / ojocaliente

200/798 marcelino guillermo & concepcion castro / zapopan

208/806 mateo esparza & petra reynoso / jalostotitlan

213/811 jose cruz cuevas & damacia guadalupe rodriguez / jocotepec

219/817 guillermo campos & tomasa vasquez / adoves

223/821 ? & ? / mexticacan

227/825 juan jose gallegos & gertrudis partida / teuchitlan

232/830 ygnacio ramos & ? / purification

238/836 bernardino olague & juana maria rosales / colotlan

241/839 juan antonio de la torre & esmergilda arias / tepatitlan

246/844 jose maria tagle & polinaria leos / aguascalientes

250/848 antonio avelar & petronila torres / nochistlan

253/851 longino ruiz & agapita contreras / teocaltiche

259/857 simon regalado & agapita aguilar / ixtlahuacan

264/862 maximo miranda & toribia bernal / ahuacatlan

269/867 jose maria sanchez & feliciana perez / zapopan

275/873 apolinario gutierrez & luisa amesquita / adoves

280/878 nieves villapando & magdalena de soto / trinidad de soto

285/883 rafael olea & cipriana gomez / cuquio

290/888 lauriano gonzalez & emiliana moreno / adoves

295/893 jose enrique lucio & estefana flores / venado

298/896 antonio pena & manuela pena / ojocaliente

309/907 julian silva & ? / jocotepec

319/917 jesus loza & juana maria jimenez / jalostotitlan

324/922 nepomuceno yslas & margarita campos / tepatitlan

329/927 filomeno gonzalez & guadalupe salcedo / zapopan

339/937 juan hermosillo & manuela anda / lagos

346/944 miguel medina & refugio aldape / fresnillo

352/950 jose maria marquez & antonia anda / lagos

359/957 felipe cid & rosario flores / jerez *tree 360/958

364/962 jose maria mariscal & leonarda gallegos / yahualica

368/966 andres codina & pioquinta banuelos / jerez *munoz 369/967

373/971 juan sambrano & trinidad terrones / san juan

378/976 francisco casimiro saldivar & felipa ortega / guadalajara

386/984 jose maria avalos & manuela ornleas / san juan de los lagos

392/990 buenaventura alva & albina ybarra / encarnacion

398/996 antonio contreras & juana maria aldana / guadalajara

404/1002 juan anda & narcisa (?) anda / san juan

410/1008 juan sambrano & trinidad terrones / san juan

417/1015 valentin (?) & maria luz / tlaltenango

421/1019 antonio alverete & maria jesus padilla / san juan de los lagos

427/1025 clemente munoz & refugio martinez / san juan de los lagos

434/1032 rosalio garcia de alva & isidra preciado / tecolotlan

441/1039 luis senteno & maria san juan sanchez / jalostitlan

446/1044 maximiano gaytan & felipa de la rosa / asientos

452/1050 ? & ? / ?

456/1054 juan jose yrenio aguilar & mariana decideria lozano / ayo el chico

461/1059 manuel alvarez & anastacia perez / guadalajara

470/1068 juan jose morales & gregoria diaz / zapopan

477/1075 ygnacio corona & rosalia flores / ocotlan

481/1079 ? & ? / ?

486/1084 ciriaco mesa & josefa velasco / ameca

492/1090 ciriaco medina & josefa rangel / asientos

497/1095 gabriel plaza & casimira ruiz / ?

502/1100 juan trujillo & dolores enselda / tapalpa(?)

511/1109 valentin robles & antonina cabellero / guadalajara

517/1115 victoriano delgado & guadalupe calvillo / aguascalientes

520/1118 marcelino alecastro(?) & ? / ayutla

525/1123 jose maria diaz & petra gonzalez / aguascalientes

529/1127 manuel flores & rita flores / ocotlan

534/1132 george padilla & ana padilla / san juan

540/1138 benancio ruan & maria enrique sanchez / nochistlan

543/1141 jose maria alvarez & ana maria moran / teocaltiche

547/1145 pedro velasco & josefa de luna / ?

550/1148 jose maria quezada & francisca flores / teocaltiche

555/1153 jose florencio & ? / ayutla

560/1158 antonio ybarra & petronila salcedo / zapotlanejo

564/1162 bernardo enriquez & rafaela angulo / jalostotitlan

569/1167 ygnacio melendez & gertrudis martin / ystlahuacan

575/1173 tiburcio lara & nestora rodriguez / purification

580/1178 jose maria feliz & petra madera / colotlan

585/1183 antonio rivera & antonia gonzalez / ixtlan

591/1189 luis sandoval & filomena flores / teul

597/1195 juan agustin lopez garcia & francisca jimenez / guadalajara

602/1200 francisco gonzalez & rosalia becerra / ixtlan

607/1205 juan de dios luera & jacinta garcia / mezquitic

608/1206 continua

609/1207 oah 2520 fin

610/1208 end of roll

https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/3:1:9392-65SZ-8W?i=1208&wc=3J4S-829%3A171935001%2C171974101%2C1085311702%3Fcc%3D1874591&cc=1874591&cat=29324

1/1209 oah2521 pt.1

2/1210 168218

4/1212 slate

5/1213 continua

6/1214 francisco gonzalez & rosalia becerra / ixtlan

12/1220 juan de dios luera & jacinta garcia / mezquitic

17/1225 manuel gutierrez & matilde ruedas / monte escobedo

21/1229 julian lopez & maria josefa gerarda / comala

29/1237 jose esqueda & rumualda resendes / aguascalientes

32/1240 jose reyes gomez & maria jesus orozco / atoyac

38/1246 catarino delgado & concepcion munoz / lagos

43/1251 jose maria angulo & apolonia hernandez / tepatitlan

49/1257 bacilio muro & diega ramirez / teul

56/1264 calistro herrera & fernanda lara / moyahua

60/1268 felipe gonzalez & gertrudis gomez / extula

65/1273 salvador apodaca & ygnacia aceves / sayula

70/1278 felipe crayo & teresa galvan / guadalajara

74/1282 yldefonzo sanchez & feliciana ramirez / tlajomulco

78/1286 cresencio franco & maria de la o cortez / tepatitlan

84/1292 francisco gutierrez & tomasa gutierrez / jalostotitlan

89/1297 ? & ? / ?

94/1302 gevacio medrano & catarina gutierrez / tepatitlan

99/1307 margarito esparza & eulalia marin / trinidad de soto

103/1311 ramon ramirez & damiana gomez / tepatitlan

109/1317 jose salvatierra & ylaria salvitierra / san sebastian

114/1322 esiquio castro & juana baptista rivera / atemancia

118/1326 victor ledesma & petra perez / mexcalingo

123/1331 trinidad (?) felipa romo /san juan de los lagos

129/1337 trinidad lopez & polonia silva / jilotlan

133/1341 trinidad gonzalez & candelaria jimenez / tepechitlan

138/1346 guadalupe martinez & eusevia trujillo / cienega de mata

143/1351 antonio arteaga & toribia aro / mazamitla

149/1357 ygnacio aranda & ? / lagos

154/1362 jose (?) & damaciana gonzalez / ?

162/1370 regino lechuga & maria jesus palos / aguascalientes

166/1374 crisanto moreno & maria jesus gonzalez / lagos

170/1378 antonio de la cruz & macedonia gonzalez / teocaltiche

174/1382 anastacio ruiz & magdalena delgado / yahualica

178/1386 faustino salas & juliana lopez / ?

187/1395 agustin villanueva & ygnacia samorano / ixtlan

194/1402 antonio rivera & ygnacia manjarres / ixtlan

201/1409 luciano ysa & teodocia prado / zapopan

209/1417 martin martinez & maria de la concepcion gonzalez / encarnacion

221/1429 jose antonio cuenca (?) & petra villa / cocula

228/1436 fin

229/1438 end of roll

[theshipsfirstmate]

theshipsfirstmate agent carter/agents of shield fic masterpost

Agent Carter

- Life Gets Narrower the Further You Go (AO3 - wc: 1218) - post- S2 finale PeggySous. No real plot, just feelings and fluff. “Part of her will always long to spin with Steve across a ballroom draped in red, white and blue, but now, there’s something very appealing about swaying softly in the silence of a sunny apartment.”

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

- All My Best Kept Secrets Are the Ones I Didn’t Know I Had (AO3 - wc: 3218) - post-SHIELD 7x06 and also post-Agent Carter season 2. peggysous -> daisysous. “Peggy was a woman who ran headfirst into a storm without giving so much as a thought to an umbrella. Daisy, he’s learning, is the storm itself.”

- Come On, Sweet Catastrophe (AO3 - wc: 2393) - post-7x09 dousy angst and talking and a little bit of sweetness. Because Daisy’s got some stuff to work through. "She’s had countless extra time to try and figure him out, but when, in the midst of all this chaos, did he learn to read her so well?"

- We Always Walked a Very Thin Line (AO3 - wc: 1357) - post-7x10, Daisy-centric angst fic, with a fair bit of dousy. "They’re losing. The battles, the war, their people, all of it. They’re just barely scraping by every single time and she promised herself she’d fight until the bitter end. But what if she can’t?"

- Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time (AO3 - wc: 4378) - finale and post-finale dousy spec. What if they had to fully reset the timeline before they could take it back? What if Daisy was left out of that decision? "Daisy takes a slow, deep breath and knocks softly on the door — and three things happen. First, she hears the conversation go silent, saved for a concerned murmur. Second, Sousa opens the door and she sees him for the first time in months, handsomely square as ever in a dark grey suit and pale green dress shirt. And third, she scans the room and realizes there’s a non-zero chance that she’s about to cry in front of Peggy Carter."

- Fold Your Hands Into Mine (AO3 - wc: 2244) - A missing scene fic from the finale – Daisy and Sousa steal a moment after his almost-sacrifice. “Daisy wonders if he’s realizing it in real time, just like she is – if that’s what’s got a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, despite the seriousness of the moment. She wonders if he understands that this is the way people like them get to talk about what they mean to each other.”