lex

just in love with older men that will never know I exist

[tpsybeetle4]

“…and yet I smile…”

It’s me, hello, yes, uhhh

Fun fact: I absolutely HATE introductions but I shall do this for you 🤗

Big lover of TWD, SOA, and Supernatural

I’m 23

BIG lover of music

Idk what else to put here, if y’all wanna know more about me I’ll add it here 🤭

[secretlysamcro]

If I could, I would 🤭🖤🫶🏽

[viaalterego]

[sourdough-seal]

hyperfixation please stay with me long enough to complete the project. hyperfixation do not fade. hyperfixation finish what you started for the love of god

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

feeling called out today

credit: _ADWills

[henricavyll]

[tpsybeetle4]

Catch me crashing out over this alone

[tpsybeetle4]

Y’all

I’m trying to write the second part for run but I’m stuck on the b plot for Jax in it. Zades b plot in Haunting Adeline was such a big part of the books that now I’m at a loss. I don’t want this to flop but I had this problem in the first part.

Almost wondering if I should say fuck it, him being in a gang is “the big reveal” in Delanies eyes or if there should be an underlining in with it.

IDK but I’m trying 😭😭

[vorchagirl]

I'm sure it's been done. But this is 100% my brain right now.

[colmiillo]

When y/n does something so cringe that i have to look at the invisible camera for a sec.

[tpsybeetle4]

Run

A/N: yay first part finally done! It took me a while because I wanna be able to do both Haunting Adeline and SOA justice and take my time with it. I’m gonna try to post as much as possible but again I wanna take my time with it. Love y’all!

TW: +18 only, mention of murder, mentions of fear play, light crude language

Part i

Delanie

My father has been the one for the theatrics for as long as I could remember. My first steps, he cried like a baby. When my first words were 'Daddy', he blubbered like child. My participation trophy in middle school volleyball, he threw a damn party. Now, moving from Salem, Oregon, away from where he was simply just two minutes away, was Charming, California, where I'd now be hours away.

"I still don't think you should be living there, Laney-" He sighed into the phone. I threw my head back quietly into the headrest of the seat of my car, shutting my eyes, not wanting him to get upset for the thousandth time this week alone about the choice of moving here a month ago.

I let out a quiet huff into the speaker as I looked to the ceiling of my car.

A ketchup stain?

"Dad, I've told you a million times," I smiled softly although I knew he couldn't see me, "I only have a year lease, if the book isnt done by then, I'll come back. I just need the quiet of a small town, a change of scenery, you know." his silence over the line was nearly deafening and i could practically see his nod as he let let go of a breath he was holding onto.

"As long as you promise me to-"

"Call as many times as I can, dad." I smiled wider into the receiver before seeing the moving van parking on the road in front of the house, "Moving vans here. I'll call you later. I promise."

"Alright sweetie, I'll let ya go then. I love ya'." he spoke and I nodded.

"I love you too, dad." i repeated back to him before I pulled my flip phone away from my ear, snapping it shut. I slipped the phone into my back pocket as I stepped out of the car.

Charming was the town Lyla had described to me in all of the emails and IM's she had sent me long ago. Vast hills and forests on the outskirts. There wasnt a Starbucks, but I never had it anyways. There were small time mom and pop shop diners, bars, mechanic shops that I had never heard of before. It was almost culture shock from the countless buildings that held a McDonalds, Goodyear Tire Shops, places youd find in any town that was bigger than Charming.

But, the name held up. Although it was a small town, Charming's neighborhoods were beautiful, vastly different from the grunge streets of Salem. It's what youd imagine when thinking of white picket fence life. Charming was what many could call a grandparents town, but the many young, lively people that would walk up and down the streets with their children told you a different story.

The house I signed the lease for was a comfortable, two bedroom, single story house. It wasnt the cheapest I could afford, but it was one I could tolerate living in for only a year as of yesterday. Today was furniture day so I was there to guide the movers where the couch, bed, and tables needed to go.

The I heard it.

The rumble of motorcycle engines in the distance.

Standing outside the pale yellow house, holding onto a box I had kept in my car overnight, I looked down the street.

I wasnt able to see the bikes as they so obviously passed by. But I could hear them, feel the rumbling deep in my chest, setting in fear over who rode those bikes, having the slightest bit of wonder if the ones who rode the bikes did good or bad.

But that was what lit a fire in the pit of my stomach, sending a spark down between my thighs.

Shaking myself from my thoughts was one of the movers, leaning against the doorframe with his forearm holding himself up. His biceps flexed, sweat dripping off his chin and neck from the heat from outside and little AC in the house and onto his now darkened gray shirt. His shirt stuck to his body, showing off how ripped he was. He gave me a small smirk as he held his free hand out, gripping onto a piece of paper.

"In case you need help unpacking." he winked when I moved the box i was holding to one hand, taking the slip of paper and opened it.

'Ben 555-4780'

I gave him a small tight lipped smile. He was attractive enough to give him that much.

"Thanks. I'll take it into consideration." I gave him a single nod before walking past him, setting the box on the counter with a sigh.

I needed a beer and to find my speaker in one of the boxes.

I pulled at my dark colored cardigan, pulling it taut around my body anxiously.

Being a successful writer had its perks, constant flow of money, being able to travel, meeting new people that already loved you.

It never helped the anxiety that comes with book signings however.

I looked to the group of people that stood outside the library, all holding at least one of my books, speaking to each other as they looked excited. I took a deep breath, wanting to rub my face but didn’t want to rub off my makeup I had spent an hour perfecting this morning.

I looked to my agent who was speaking to the older ladies that ran the library in its normal day to day time. You could just tell they were pissed and had angry looks from how busy the normally quiet building was.

As soon as the blonde, Patty, moved her gaze towards me, she smiled at the women to excuse herself and walk in my direction.

I stood up straighter, letting out a breath slowly as she spoke.

“Ready hot shot?” She asked before pushing my curls back, resting her hand on my cheek. She was about twice my age but I had always seen her as a motherly figure, someone who always cared about me, looked after me. She handled the shit that I couldn’t.

“As much as I can be.” I smiled to her as she leaned down, pressing a kiss to my cheek, her hand moving to my shoulder and guiding me to the table that sat in the middle of the room, done up in three different piles showcasing my three books I had put out in the recent years.

I sat at the table with a sigh and leaned back, watching as one of the older ladies from before finally unlock the door, letting in the line of excited women through to make a b-line in front of my table.

I pulled on a smile at the ladies, pulling off the cap of the first marker in front of me, making small talk after small talk with women of slightly different ages, the ones that got what they want moving deeper into the library to chat and eat the cheap snacks the ladies working got from the local store.

It’s been about half an hour and my hand was beginning to cramp. I looked up to Patty, seeing her standing nearby, on her cell. I gave her a slight nod and stood up as she walked towards me, calling out to the rest of the line that I’d be taking a break.

I stretched my hand, sighing as I turned, ready to go grab a glass of fruit punch and pray for it to turn into a beer before looking up, catching glimpse of a man.

I didn’t remember signing a book for him.

With a face like that, I would’ve remembered, wrote books about him, been able to see that face in my dreams.

His head was slightly pointed to the ground, as if he were looking at my shoes. His blonde hair fell from behind his ears, the ends tickling at his shaggy goatee that matched the color of his hair. His eyes, bags hanging low and a light shade of purple, were a piercing ocean blue, cutting straight through my own green eyes.

My breath caught in my throat as his lips quirked into a smirk, instilling fear into my mind and sending a slight shiver down my spine. Then a bigger lady walked past, covering my line of sight for a split second and when she was out of sight, he was gone.

I turned my head, looking for the blonde man. Behind bookshelves and the cliques of women speaking with each other. He was gone.

My ghost was gone.

Jax

The vibration in my hand from my handgun stung my skin. I could still feel the kickback from it in my bones and halfway up my arm. The life in the man’s eyes, gone, while mine stared at him angrily.

I had vowed to him before this moment that he would never touch another innocent child again and yet he doubted me. My only option was to put a bullet between his brows.

I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I was holding, bringing my arms behind my back to slip my handgun in the waistband of my pants then leaned down, reading the patches off the Mayans kutte to myself before grabbing him by the shirt, dragging him back against the brick wall near an overfilled trash can that I could only describe as smelling like dog shit and rotten food. I held my breath as I sat the dead man up then stood back, sighing as I looked around.

It was still midday but I was still able to make good use of the silencer on my handgun but I still needed to get myself out of the area quickly.

I put up my hood after pulling it out of my kutte and walked away. It might be fucked up after killing a man in cold blood, no matter how much he deserved it, but a greasy burger was calling my name.

Salivating at the thought, I made my way down the street, hands stuffed deep in my jean pockets as I looked around, spotting a long line of women in front of the local library. I hadn’t heard of any event going on there. I furrowed my brows in surprise and got closer, nodding to some of the ladies as I walked myself up to the door, using my height as an advantage to look inside the building. I side stepped through some of the ladies, apologizing and spewing bullshit of “having to return my overdue book” with a smirk.

When I stepped into the library, for the first time in nearly 20 years, all I had expected to find was a group of older women fawning over the author of the books that finally made them feel the spark between their legs again and some middle aged freak with round glasses and kitten heels signing front page after front page of her few books. What I did not intend to see was a woman, had to be around my age, sitting back in the chair in the middle of the table, her fiery red locks halved and pulled up behind her head. Her glasses were round and thin, nowhere near the thick lenses I had imagined before. Her golden brown eyes cat like and sultry held a certain uneasiness from the crowd of middle aged women standing in line, overflowing into the history isle of books.

I had to have her.

I ducked behind a group of women and made my way to the back of the room, finding a spot near the shelves where I had a clear view of her. My eyes bored into the back of her head, sure that she could feel it.

And then she stood. Even from further away I could tell she was at least a head shorter than me even with the curls of her hair that stuck up. I could hear the whispers of the group of women surrounding me, saying her name as though it was a prayer.

I should be the only one saying it like that. I need to be.

My gaze continued on her even as she turned, quickly meeting my eyes. A smirk formed on my lips, my breathing became heavier as she quickly took in my form. Before either of us knew though, a lady walked in between our gazes so I ducked and slipped myself into a dark corner of the room, hugging the wall as I made my way out of the building without anyone taking notice. Every body in there was too focused on one person and one person only.

Delanie.

My Delanie.

[sunflowernovak]

when you're watching supernatural in the dark and the angels get smitey

[secretangel555-deactivated20250]

[tpsybeetle4]

Run

A small blurb for what is to come…

Delanie

And then I caught wind of it. The smell of burning tobacco dancing in my nostrils as I sat up in bed, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. My gaze went straight to the open window, letting in the cool breeze of the summer night and that’s where I saw him. A man dressed in all black, masked by the shadows from the moonlight, a single red light from the cherry on the end of the cigarette he had lit doing little to light up his face, except for the smirk that rested upon his lips. He knew I had seen him and was now watching him as he flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe and hopped the fence behind him, disappearing from sight.

Jax

“And when I stepped into the library that day, for the first time in nearly 20 years, all I had expected to find was a group of elderly women fawning over the author of the books that finally made them feel the spark between their legs again and some middle aged freak with round glasses and kitten heels signing front page after front page of her few books. What I did not intend to see was a woman, had to be around my age, sitting back in the chair in the middle of the table, her fiery red locks halved and pulled up behind her head. Her glasses were round and thin, nowhere near the thick lenses I had imagined before. Her golden brown eyes cat like and sultry held a certain uneasiness from the crowd of middle aged women standing in line, overflowing into the history isle of books. I had to have her.”

I got this idea from a physical book ‘Haunting Adeline’ by H.D. Carlton. This is going to be a longer series (hopefully) just because I really love the book. All events are going to be loosely based around it so any plot points that happen I will give the credit to H.D. Carlton who has inspired me to read more and write more often. Any characters and plot points that align with ‘Sons of Anarchy’ go solely to the creator, Kurt Sutter, and the whole team who took part in creating this beautiful show.

This will also be a slow burn, in the book it takes nearly the entirety of the book for something to happen but I promise, it’ll be so sweet if you stick around for the ride.

I will hopefully post the first part soon!

[winchesterswhore]

do you ever look at a man and think i need you in the most disgusting, vile, pathetic, animalistic, disturbing, vulgar and morally questionable way possible

[bellaxgiornata]

"I can fix him!"

Okay, well I definitely can't, but I'm pretty sure him and his dick could fix me.

[felizzlemynizzl]