and now you raise me up

Meryl Streep’s Acceptance Speech for her Cecil B. DeMille Award in the Golden Globes

Please sit down. Thank you. I love you all. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve lost my voice in screaming and lamentation this weekend. And I have lost my mind sometime earlier this year, so I have to read.

Thank you, Hollywood Foreign Press. Just to pick up on what Hugh Laurie said: You and all of us in this room really belong to the most vilified segments in American society right now. Think about it: Hollywood, foreigners and the press.

But who are we, and what is Hollywood anyway? It’s just a bunch of people from other places. I was born and raised and educated in the public schools of New Jersey. Viola was born in a sharecropper’s cabin in South Carolina, came up in Central Falls, Rhode Island; Sarah Paulson was born in Florida, raised by a single mom in Brooklyn. Sarah Jessica Parker was one of seven or eight kids in Ohio. Amy Adams was born in Vicenza, Italy. And Natalie Portman was born in Jerusalem. Where are their birth certificates? And the beautiful Ruth Negga was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, raised in London — no, in Ireland I do believe, and she’s here nominated for playing a girl in small-town Virginia.

Ryan Gosling, like all of the nicest people, is Canadian, and Dev Patel was born in Kenya, raised in London, and is here playing an Indian raised in Tasmania. So Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners. And if we kick them all out you’ll have nothing to watch but football and mixed martial arts, which are not the arts.

They gave me three seconds to say this, so: An actor’s only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us, and let you feel what that feels like. And there were many, many, many powerful performances this year that did exactly that. Breathtaking, compassionate work.

But there was one performance this year that stunned me. It sank its hooks in my heart. Not because it was good; there was nothing good about it. But it was effective and it did its job. It made its intended audience laugh, and show their teeth. It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter. Someone he outranked in privilege, power and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it, and I still can’t get it out of my head, because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life. And this instinct to humiliate, when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life, because it kinda gives permission for other people to do the same thing. Disrespect invites disrespect, violence incites violence. And when the powerful use their position to bully others we all lose. O.K., go on with it.

O.K., this brings me to the press. We need the principled press to hold power to account, to call him on the carpet for every outrage. That’s why our founders enshrined the press and its freedoms in the Constitution. So I only ask the famously well-heeled Hollywood Foreign Press and all of us in our community to join me in supporting the Committee to Protect Journalists, because we’re gonna need them going forward, and they’ll need us to safeguard the truth.

One more thing: Once, when I was standing around on the set one day, whining about something — you know we were gonna work through supper or the long hours or whatever, Tommy Lee Jones said to me, “Isn’t it such a privilege, Meryl, just to be an actor?” Yeah, it is, and we have to remind each other of the privilege and the responsibility of the act of empathy. We should all be proud of the work Hollywood honors here tonight.

As my friend, the dear departed Princess Leia, said to me once, take your broken heart, make it into art.

youtube

I love Meryl Streep even more now, somehow.

Transcript:

“I love you all. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve lost my voice in screaming and lamentation this weekend. And I have lost my mind sometime earlier this year. So I have to read. Thank you, Hollywood Foreign Press [Association]. Just to pick up on what Hugh Laurie said, you and all of us in this room, really, belong to the most vilified segments in American society right now. Think about it. Hollywood, foreigners, and the press. But who are we? And, you know, what is Hollywood anyway? It’s just a bunch of people from other places. I was born and raised and created in the public schools of New Jersey. Viola [Davis] was born in a sharecropper’s cabin in South Carolina, grew up in Central Falls, Long Island. Sarah Paulson was raised by a single mom in Brooklyn. Sarah Jessica Parker was one of seven or eight kids from Ohio. Amy Adams was born in Italy. Natalie Portman was born in Jerusalem. Where are their birth certificates? And the beautiful Ruth Negga was born in Ethiopia, raised in— no, in Ireland, I do believe. And she’s here, nominated for playing a small town girl from Virginia. Ryan Gosling, like all the nicest people, is Canadian. And Dev Patel was born in Kenya, raised in London, is here for playing an Indian raised in Tasmania. Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners. If you kick ‘em all out, you’ll have nothing to watch but football and mixed martial arts, which are not the arts.

They gave me three seconds to say this. An actor’s only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us and let you feel what that feels like. And there were many, many, many powerful performances this year that did exactly that — breathtaking, passionate work. There was one performance this year that stunned me. It sank its hooks in my heart — not because it was good. There was nothing good about it. But it was effective and it did its job. It made its intended audience laugh and show their teeth. It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter, someone he outranked in privilege, power, and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it. I still can’t get it out of my head because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life. And this instinct to humiliate, when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life, because it kind of gives permission for other people to do the same thing. Disrespect invites disrespect. Violence incites violence. And when the powerful use their position to bully others, we all lose.

This brings me to the press. We need the principled press to hold power to account, to call them on the carpet for every outrage. That’s why our founders enshrined the press and its freedoms in our constitution. So I only ask the famously well-heeled Hollywood Foreign Press and all of us in our community to join me in supporting the committee to protect journalists. Because we’re going to need them going forward. And they’ll need us to safeguard the truth.

One more thing: Once, when I was standing around on the set one day whining about something, we were going to work through supper, or the long hours or whatever, Tommy Lee Jones said to me, “Isn’t it such a privilege, Meryl, just to be an actor?” Yeah, it is. And we have to remind each other of the privilege and the responsibility of the act of empathy. We should all be very proud of the work Hollywood honors here tonight. As my friend, the dear departed Princess Leia said to me once, “Take your broken heart, make it into art.” Thank you.”

@captioned-miscellaneous-videos

Freaky Friday: Part 4

Sirius: … Wow.

Remus: *shrugs casually* Naw… I just REALLY wanted to see you in this shit.

Severus: *snarls* What do you want, Black?

Remus: *turns dramatically to face Severus, raising his voice* I want YOU Severus Snape! 

*silence* 

Remus: *loudly… unnecessarily so* I want you to take me right now.…. right over this table! 

Severus: *horrified* You… you want… what the fuck!?

Severus: *shrilly* F-Fuck off Black, you… you freak of nature! *storms away, looking thoroughly traumatized while passerby gape*

Remus: SEVERUS, DON’T GO!!! 

Sirius: *gapes* WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. BLOODY. HELL!?!?

Sirius: *shakes head in disbelief* Well… it’s a good thing - shut up James - It’s a good thing I have the antidote then isn’t it? Another day and you’d ruin me for life.

Sirius: *grins* Irrelevant. Now… Before any more public-love-confessions are made… 

To Be Continued

a partial list of real cleric spells merle highchurch could cast with his Ring of the Grammarian:

  • speak with dad (a spell that lets you speak with your dad)
  • mess heal (the only 9th level cleaning spell in existence)
  • scare the dying (insult to injury!)
  • raise dad (look at me. i’m the dad now)
  • meld into store (you have become one with costco)
  • farm (create a farm in an empty space in front of you. the farm can be up to 2d10 acres in size, and may produce any common farm products of the caster’s choice, taking the size of the farm and the suitability of the environment into account.)
  • find craps (when would you possibly need to use this, dear god)
  • bone of truth (……don’t ask)
Poke Out His Eyes

Context: 5e My players were nearing the end of a long warehouse fight against multiple enemies to attempt bring in a bounty alive. Several of our players have nearly died, they’ve whittled their opponents down and our Cleric does the following.)

Cleric: I would like to raise my shield of Kord up to him like I’m going to attack him, and then quickly lower my shield and poke him in the eyeballs, and I’m going to cast Light.

DM(me): (trying not to laugh) Okay, roll Dex to see if you succeed.

Cleric: Natural 20

(entire room erupts)

DM: So, you raise your shield and he turns to you and very quickly you drop it, striking out and poking him in the eyeballs as you cast light. He is now blind and has light coming from his eyes.

(I laugh so much we had to take a 10 minute break, and then our Cleric reminded me, as the DM, that Light lasts for 1 hour.)

We just started an new imprint at Disney called Rick Riordan Presents. The idea is to find authentic voices to tell the stories about their own cultures, rather than me, a white American male, trying to tell all their mythologies myself. I think that’s the better way to go. I love all world mythologies, but I am not an expert on all of them, nor was I raised with all them the way I grew up with Greek, Roman, Norse and Egyptian.
— 

Rick Riordan

complain about the amount of books he writes all you want, but his books have such diverse characters & now this

Pushing his buttons || Dan H.

A/N: This is mostly dialog and I loved writing it. I also have a thing for university!dan now. Thanks for the request!

Word Count: 1.9K

POV: Reader

MASTERLIST

Originally posted by daik3n

„What are you wearing?” Dan asked, raising his eyebrows and looking me up and down. He sat at the kitchen table and looked up from his laptop that he did some work for university on.

Daniel James Howell, 21, wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms, messy brown hair that he let grow out, freakishly tall, university student and unfortunately incredibly hot.

Since my parents were currently on a business trip to another continent for two weeks I was staying at Dan’s flat. I could have told them that I was old enough to look after myself, but honestly sharing this flat with him was much better than being on my own all the time. He was the son of my mum’s best friend so we knew each other since we were little kids. My parents had a soft spot for him and over the years he became one of my best friends.

I was confused by Dan’s question and quickly checked my outfit. It didn’t look bad, did it? The dress I was wearing perfectly hugged all my curves. It also showed the right amount of skin: not too much and not too little.

“I’m going to this party” I explained, putting my keys and phone into my purse.

“Are there gonna be boys?” Dan asked, completely forgetting about the paper that was due tomorrow.  

“Yes.” I truthfully answered. Why would there only be girls? What was up with him?  

“What do you mean ‘yes’?” Dan shut the laptop in front of him close and shot me a strange look. Was he angry now?  

“Yes, there are gonna be boys.” I answered, stating the obvious.

“And they are all just your friends?” He sceptically eyed me.

I didn’t even know everyone who was going to be there. Why did it matter anyway? I shrugged my shoulders instead of answering.

“I asked you a question.” Dan snapped, getting up from his chair.  

“Not all of them want to be just friends, I guess” I admitted, blushing a bit.

“Pardon?!” The dark haired boy almost shouted, looking at me the same way my mother probably would.

“I don’t know, there is this guy called Brandon and he’s been trying to get into my pants for about half a year.” I told him nonchalantly.

We were close friends and we talked about a lot, but we never talked about my relationship to other guys or anything like that. It felt weird and I immediately regretted telling him that when I saw his facial expression.

“Into your what?!?” Dan’s eyes grew wide and the vein on his neck was pulsating. If he had taken a of sip water he would have spit it out.

“Pants. It’s a saying. It means he wa-” I explained, trying to stay calm while he was close to losing his mind.

“I know well enough what that means. Have you told him to back the fuck up?” Dan’s question sounded more like a demand. I had spent enough time with him to know that him starting to curse is definitely a sign that he is mad.

 "What if I don’t want him to?“ I challenged him, not being entirely serious. He deserved that for acting like a dick.  

"What the fuck, Y/N?” Curse word again. Damn he was really mad.

“Dan, can you please calm down?” I asked, tired of his stupid behaviour. I was going to be late because of him.

“Calm down? No! Why do you want to be with that stupid prick?”

“Dan, that’s none of your businesses!“ I defended myself, extremely irritated by his act.

"Oh hell yeah it is!”

“No it’s not!”

“You are not going to that party and you are going to tell that Brandon ass that he can get lost.” Dan smashed against the kitchen table with his fist, thinking that he had spoken the last word.  

“What?? Why?! That’s so unfair.” I complained. He was not my father and he couldn’t tell me shit.

“No it’s not.”

“You get to go the a hundred parties a week and take home as many girls as you want, but I need to stay at home and play good girl when I want to go out once in like half a year? Double standard much?” I snapped, having seen enough girls quietly leave this place before noon.

“That’s different.” Dan just stated and cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed that I had to witness some of his hook ups leave.

“How is that different?” I wanted to know, my eyes burning into his skin.

“You are still in High School.” That was excuse, seriously? My hands were trembling with anger.  

“I am eighteen, Dan! You were at my birthday party remember?!”

“Eighteen or not. That Brandon pervert just wants to use you to have sex because he is a horny ass teenager.” He tried to end this conversation and have me go back to my room.

He’d like it that way. Who does he think he is? My babysitter?

“Maybe, Brandon has just realised that I am a desirable young women and not some little baby contrary to you!” I screamed at his face, fed up with having him look down on me like he is the wise and mature guy and I’m the little baby that wasn’t allowed to do anything.

“I- Look at how naive you are acting right now!” My words had clearly thrown him off track. Good.

“Oh so it’s totally unbelievable that I can be desired?” I took it up a notch, now that he got me completely furious.

“That-that’s not what I said!” Dan defended himself and swallowed hard.  

“But that’s what you are thinking. You treat me like a baby 24/7!” I shouted, feeling relieved right after the truth had left my mouth.

“Y/N that’s not true! And you can’t deny that this Brandon guy just wants to ‘get into your pants’ because he is a horny teenager.” Dan lectured me, raising his voice.

I just angrily glared up at his stupid face, too furious to even say something.

“Look, if I were that young again I’d probably think you are hot too.” Dan bluntly explained to me, ignoring my death glare.

“So you don’t think that I am hot now?” I spat, his words piercing my heart like a sharp sword.

“Uhm what?!” He definitely didn’t see that coming.

“You said that if you were a horny teenager again you’d think I’m hot. So you don’t think I’m hot now.” I explained what his words sounded like to me and couldn’t get over the fact that they had deeply hurt me.

“Y/N, I a - I don’t see why this is relevant right now.” Dan stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s not. I’m going to the party and you can’t stop me.” I snapped, absolutely done with him.

I knew he didn’t like me back, but I could still hope, right? Well, not after what he had just said.

“You are going to the party and what? Fuck this Brandon guy in the bathroom?” He asked, laughing scornfully.

I put on a coat over my dress and slipped into my heels before I turned to face Dan again.

“Why not? Why would you care?” I riposted, wiping that snarky grin off his face.

“Why not?? You seriously want to lose your virginity like that?” Dan snorted angrily taking a few steps towards me as I opened the door to leave.

“So you are now just presuming I am a virgin?” I raised my eyebrows at him and watched his face fall.

“Woah, woah woah. Stop right there. Explain that!” He put his arm out in front of my chest, stopping me from leaving his flat.

“It’s none of your business if I am virgin or not. I am not hot enough to have sex in your eyes anyways.” I said, trying to sound calm although I was still offended by what he had said earlier.

“Why is it so important to you if I think you are hot?” Dan bellowed, not taking away his stretched out arm that stopped me from leaving.

“Why do you care so much about me and that Brandon guy?” I countered loudly.

Silence.

His brown eyes evilly glared at me and I wasn’t afraid to stare back. Both of our eyebrows were furrowed together. Me and Dan normally didn’t fight, but damn I hated him right now.

I could hear Dan angrily breath through his nose, not breaking eye contact.

“I don’t care. If you want to fuck around, suit yourself.” He said through gritted teeth.

He was obviously challenging me and I was not going to lose.

“Fine. Then I’ll go and find Brandon.” I stated, waiting for him to show any reaction.

“I said, I don’t care.” Dan snarled, his eyes were dark with anger.

“Maybe you can give me a few tips on how to quietly leave after a one night stand. You seem to be an expert.” I chirped, pushing his buttons on purpose.

He looked like he was going to explode.

“Don’t fucking take this too far, Y/N. You are acting like a child.” Dan growled, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

The fact that he told me that he doesn’t care still upset me. I wanted him to care, but not because he thought I was a baby.

I wanted to set him off like ticking bomb.

“Can you give me one of your condoms? I don’t know if Br-“

That was it. The final straw.

The look he was giving me made my inside tingle and I had to take a few steps back because the heat that was radiating from his body was suffocating me. My back hit the cold white wall behind me, making me jump. I swallowed hard, watching Dan step closer to me. His hands smashed down on the wall on each side of my hot face.

His breath fanned my neck, causing me to nearly lose my senses.

“If that Brandon asshole ever touches you then I’m going to gladly break his fucking neck. Do you understand that?”

I looked to my left to avoid eye contact.

“Why do you get so angry at Brandon? Why do you even care?” I challenged him having risen my voice once again. I was not giving up that easily. He was acting tough but I wasn’t intimidated by his behaviour.

“Just change out of that stupid dress. I can almost see your boobs.” Dan told me, taking a step back and avoiding my question.

“Oh and you don’t want to see them?”

Where my boobs not good enough for him now? Prick.

“Y/N-I.. please. We are not talking about that now.” Dan sternly shut me down, noticeably annoyed by me.

“Why not? I’m tired of you treating me like an ugly little child.” I told him, standing up straight to shown him my determination.

“Y/N please can we-“ Dan tried to calm me down, gently touching my shoulder.

“No, we can’t! Why am I not good enough for you!” I shouted hurt.

“Look. I don’t know why you have that idea-“

“You always make sure to let me know that I’m totally unattractive. And that makes me feel like shit!”I admitted loudly, completely lashing out on him.

“It was not my intention to make you feel like shit.” Dan defended himself, throwing his arms up.  

“Then what was your fucking intention?!” I snapped, losing my patience.

“I just have to stop myself, okay?!” Dan shouted.

“Stop yourself from what!?”

“Stop myself from fucking pushing you against the next wall and kissing the living shit out of you!”

Nap time
  • CG: it's nap time sweetie
  • Little: *looks up from their toys and pouts* Nuuu I'm playin!
  • CG: *raises their eyebrow* Little one, I don't want to have to make you
  • Little: *whines* B-but naps are for babies!
  • CG: You are a baby, munchkin butt! You're my baby
  • Little: *blushes and covers their face* nu CG!
  • CG: *smiles and baby talks* who's CG's little baby?
  • Little: nuuuu! *blushes harder*
  • CG: *continues to baby talk* C'mon sweet heart, who is it??
  • Little: *giggles* It's me, CG!
  • CG: That's right, now get your cutie booty to the room. it's nap time for my little baby
  • Little: Okay CG ^-^
Tis the Season

Title: Tis the Season
Pairing: StilesxReader
Warnings: Smut
Summary: Y/N is sick of waiting on Stiles to make a move so she decides to give him his Christmas gift early.

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines


“Are you carrying around a Santa hat full of Mistletoe, Stiles?” I asked, my brow raising slowly as I stopped in front of his locker. 

The boy glanced down at the hat bundled up in his hands before grinning up at me with an enthusiastic nod. “It is. There’s candy canes in here as well.”

I continued to look at him with my brow raised, trying to hold back the fit of giggles. I had been dating him for a few weeks now, I guess it wasn’t entirely serious. A few dinner dates here and there, a peck on the cheek and once on the lips. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried about making me feel awkward or if he just liked to take things slow. It was sweet, but a part of me was worried he didn’t see this becoming anything series. 

“So, can I ask why?” I giggled, smiling at his happy facial expression. 

“Because it’s Christmas time!” He paused and then opened the bag so I could look in. “Take a candy cane and help me put the mistletoe up above all the doors in the school. It’ll be fun.”

“I knew there was an actual reason behind this.” I smirked, reaching in to grab a candy cane and some mistletoe. “Let’s go put up this mistletoe.” 

The rest of our study period was spent running down hallways with a stapler and a hat full of mistletoe while we hid around corners from teachers. When we put up the last piece of mistletoe I tossed the hat on Stiles head and pointed up at the doorway. “Kiss me.”

He glanced up with a nervous grin before nodding softly. “Well played, Y/N.” 

Originally posted by lovablecouples


He ran his hand over my cheek slowly before dipping down to place his lips against mine. The soft flesh moved lightly against my own before he pulled back and all too quickly it was over. 

Stiles golden hues looked me over a small smile on his face. “Let’s get back to class.” 

I nodded quietly, letting him turn around to head back first, a frown etched on my face as I walked behind him. Was he avoiding giving me an actual kiss?

When we got back into study hall I slid over to sit by Allison. “You okay, Y/N?” 

I sighed, running my hand through my hair. “Yeah…No…I don’t know. Is Stiles trying to not kiss me?” 

“What?” 

“He hasn’t like…actually kissed me since we started seeing each other.”

Allison raised a brow. “Actually kissed you?” 

I nodded. “You know…like…tongue, lust, intense make out sessions that lead to more…” 

Suddenly a new presence scooted over to the conversation. “Okay, just because Stiles can’t hear you, doesn’t mean I can’t.’ Scott raised a brow. “And if you must know, he’s not avoiding you, he heard from Jackson that you like to take things slow and he might have said you’re a virgin.” 

I furrowed my brow. “That jealous asshole.” I grumbled. “What in the world is Stiles doing listening to Jackson?” 

“He didn’t believe him at first, but he also didn’t want to move to fast and make you mad so…he’s waiting for you to make a move, so he knows it’s okay.” Scott whispered before glancing behind his back to see Stiles raising a questioning brow. 

Allison glanced over at me with a grin on her face. “What’s that look for?” 

“Make a move.” 

“What? Like…like how?” 

She giggled, glancing up at the bell rang. “Don’t know, do something fun. It’s the Christmas season, make it a gift.”

I stood up from my seat as Allison walked out of the class. I glanced over my shoulder slowly and watched as Stiles shoved his stuff in his bag, the Santa hat still on his head. For some reason a rush of confidence rushed over me. I stood up slowly and made my way over to Stiles. 

“Are you busy tonight?” I asked, leaning my hip against the desk. I watched as Stiles eyes lifted, landing directly on the curve of my hips for a moment until he looked up at me. 

“N-No…Not that I’m aware of. Why?” He stood up slowly, swinging his bag over his shoulders. 

I grinned, making sure it was as flirty as I could manage. “I have an early Christmas present I wanted to give you…Can you come over at eight? My parents have a Christmas party tonight.” 

He swallowed lightly, nodding. “Sure. Yeah. Of course, I can do that. Yeah, so…so eight? Tonight?”

“Eight tonight.” I smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek, my lips lingering by his ear. “Bring the Santa hat.” 

I bit his earlobe and giggled as his knees practically buckled under him. 

“Santa hat. Yeah. Okay.” 

It was fifteen minutes to eight when I finally had everything set up. I decorated my room with Christmas lights and some garland, I even bought a red and white lace lingerie outfit and completed it with a red bow wrapped around my chest and my waist. 

I had no idea where this came from, but I was going to go with it. If Jackson made Stiles think I was some plain jane prude, I was going to make sure he learned just how much fun I truly could be. 

I texted him quickly to tell him to come in and head up too my room. The last thing I wanted to do was answer the doorbell in lingerie and have it not be him. I couldn’t remember how many times Isaac had come over for something like eggs or sugar when he used to live next door. 

The sound of the door opening and closing made me toss my phone to the side onto one of my beanbags. I laid across my bed, my hip jutting up, one hand in my hair, the other across my stomach. 

A few moments later the door knob to my room turned and opened slowly. My eyes caught his facial expression as soon as he walked in and caught sight of me. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously, eyes wide, mouth open. He couldn’t even talk. 

Slowly, I rolled to the side and stood up, walking over to him as seductively as possible. “Merry Christmas, Stiles.” 

He shuddered, eyes casting over every inch of visible skin. “M-Merry Chr…Shit…Y/N…?” 

I giggled a bit, nodding. “Would you like to open your gift?” 

I wasn’t sure what came over Stiles, it might have very easily been exactly what came over me earlier today. Pent up sexual frustration and raw need for contact. Suddenly, his hands flew out, gripping my sides just at the top of my hips, he spun us around and pushed my body with his against the door, making sure it shut tightly behind me. His lips connected instantly with mine, hands roaming up my sides until he reached the bow at the front of my chest.

He parted from the kiss, breathing heavily as he pressed his entire body against my own. “What–Are you sure?” 

I grinned, reaching my hand up to tug his down, pulling the ribbon of the bow with it, untying it instantly. “Don’t ask questions, Stiles. Play with your presents.” 

Stiles outright groaned at the words that fell from my lips, I could feel him harden against my thigh. He reached forward, both hands instantly taking my breasts and rolling them upwards, thumbs tweaking my nipples. 

My lips parted in a soft moan, back arching off the door as he continued to play with my chest. The feeling sent sparks and shivers through my entire body, my hips tilted up pressing against his own, pulling another groan from the boys lips. 

His mouth found mine again, encasing the plump flesh within his own, teeth practically clashing from the pure passion and gruffness of the kiss. A single hand removed itself from my breasts, choosing to cascade down to the second bow above my hips. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” Stiles murmured against my lips. “How naughty have you been this year?” 

I grinned, nipping his lower lip and sucking the plump flesh in between my own. “Would you like me to tell you…or show you?”

As I spoke, I slid my hand down and ran it across the front of his pants, my fingers toying over the zipper. 

“Fuck…” He breathed, tugging the second bow off of me “Show me. Now.” 

Stiles gripped my hips, hoisting me off the floor and shoving me back up against the door. His hips pressed up against mine, to pin me against the wall. His hand reached in between u as he let a single digit slid against the folds of my wet heat. 

I shuddered, moaning softly. “Wouldn’t this be you showing me how naughty you are, Santa?” 

He grinned against the skin of my neck, nipping it roughly. “You can show me later. I need to touch you.” 

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a loud moan when he suddenly slid a finger into me, curling it against my walls. Arching my back off the door, I bucked my hips up almost instinctively, craving the friction of him moving that digit within me. 

As if he read my mind he began to slid his finger in and out, adding a second soon after. Each time he moved against me, I moaned, the sounds only gaining in volume when his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nub at the top of my heat. 

I could feel my body building up as he increased his pace, a familiar knot in my stomach that felt like it was about to burst at any moment. My eyes shut tight as he continued his assault, fingers moving rapidly within me, his mouth nipping and kissing from my neck to my chest. As his lips suddenly wrapped around my nipple, teeth grazing ever so slightly against it, I broke. 

My whole body was on fire, hips bucking to get as much friction as possible, my head felt like I was falling and I wondered for a split second if I truly ever moaned that loud before.

After I calmed down, I opened my eyes to see Stiles wide eyed as he stared at me. His fingers pulled back and I almost got worried that he thought I was crazy for how loud I had just gotten. Those worries disappeared though when he finally spoke and broke the silence. 

“That was honestly the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” He panted, his breath raspy as if he’d been holding it that entire time. 

I shuddered, but gave him a light grin, my forehead beaded in sweat as I caught my breath. “Stiles…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I need you to fuck me. Right now.” 

Once again, I earned myself an out right groan from the boy as he spun us around and laid me onto the bed. 

He made quick work of his shirt, climbing on top of me, hips lowering to grind against my bare ones. “Take off your pants.” I whispered, my hands running over his chest. 

“You don’t have much patience, do you?” He grinned, glancing up at me, a small laugh falling from his lips when he saw the flustered and frustrated look I sent him. 

“Pants off. Now.”

He smirked, sitting up to undo his belt. “Yes, ma’am.” 

I kept my eyes on him as he stood up, quickly tugging off his jeans as well as his boxers. His eyes smoothed over my body with a nervous smile. “Y/N, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

I grinned and sat up, placing my hand at the back of his neck. I tugged him back on top of me, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist. We both moaned when his member slid up against my entrance. 

“Are you ready?” He asked and suddenly, he looked worried. 

“Stiles, I’m not a virgin. Now please…” I pushed my hips up. “Forget what Jackson said, I don’t like to take things slow. Fuck me fast.”

“Fuck…” He whispered, groaning as he slid his hands down to take my hips in them, lifting me up against his own, his member aligning at my entrance. It only took a moment for him to press into me, his hips flush against my own as we both let out a satisfied breath. 

It took us both a moment to adjust to the feeling, neither of us wanting it to end too suddenly. After a few minutes he pulled back, snapping his hips forward once again, burying himself in me with a groan. 

I moaned, my back arching as one of his hands slid from my hip to the small of my back, his digits pressing into the muscle as if he was supporting my weight to make it more comfortable. His other hand stayed firmly on my hip to hold me in place as he continued to move his hips, increasing in pace just long enough to see me on the brink of exploding before stilling himself completely, watching with a grin as I tried to calm myself and not give him a frustrated glare. 

He began moving again with a light chuckle, golden hues keeping my gaze before he leaned down to capture my lips. 

He kissed me roughly and deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth like a dark cavern, I moaned into the kiss when he suddenly pinned my hips to the bed, his own driving into me rapidly. 

That pressure built up once again and I half expected him to stop just before I could reach that high point, but this time he kept going, breaking away from the kiss just as that knot snapped so he could watch my face contorted in pleasure, my body reeling against his own. 

He never slowed down his pace until my walls tightening around him made it to hard for him to keep moving that fast. Still, he didn’t stop his movements, his mouth opening in a groan as he pressed his forehead to mine, his fingers dipping into my skin while he came to his own sexual high. 

After a moment, Stiles collapsed next to me on the bed, both of our chests heaving as we caught our breath. With a grin, Stiles turned on his side, his hand reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, leaning forward to place a kiss against my forehead. 

“That was the best Christmas gift I’v
e ever received.”

Imagine Sam staying up all night with your daughter... again

Part one

Dean practically threw his bowl down onto the table, jolting Sam awake.

His head snapped up, one hand raising in defence before he realised it was his brother, instead smoothing down his hair.

“You’re gonna have to stop this ‘all nighter’ shit while we’re at home,” Dean commented, pouring himself some cereal.

“What?” Sam defended, “I didn’t.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “So you mean to tell me you didn’t spend the whole night in Katie’s room, trying to get her to sleep?”

“Y/N needs sleep,” he explained, yawning.

“And so do you,” Dean retorted, “Sammy, the days we spend here are meant to be for resting up for hunts.”

“I know, I know,” Sam nodded, getting to his feet, “Kiddo’s asleep now, so I’m gonna see if I can catch a couple hours.”

He was at the doorway by the time Dean spoke up again.

“Sam?”

Sam turned back to face him, raising an eyebrow.

“If she’s like it tomorrow night, wake me up,” Dean told his brother, “You need a night off, a night with Y/N.”

Sam smiled sleepily.

“Thanks, man.”

You Complete Me - jughead jones

Requested by @ateliefloresdaprimavera Prompt: y/n and jughead are total opposites yet they balance each other out. Jughead’s POV: “WEDNESDAY ADDAMS,” the familiar and arrogant voice of Reggie shouts across the hall. God, what now. Reggie caught up and shoved me into a wall of lockers, it’s basically a daily routine now. He laughs and I roll my eyes wishing he can just go mess with some other poor guy. “Now, I’ve had this question that has been waving in my mind for a while. And basically everyone in school have been wondering too…” Reggie raises his brow. I shoved his arm away from the side of my head and rolled my eyes, “well what the hell is so important you need to ask?” Reggie turns his head away from me looking at the end of the hallway. Right there was Betty, Veronica, and Y/N. God, Y/N is so beautiful. “Now how does Donnie Darko end up with such a pretty little number? Did you do some creepy hypnotizing shit to keep her with you?” He laughed. Y/N and I are total opposites. She is the most sweetest and charismatic girl anyone has ever laid their eyes upon. The bright colors of her everyday outfits, her smile, and her personality light up everything around her. I don’t know how I got so lucky either. As for me, I’m just. “Donnie Darko” “Wednesday Addams” “that creepy kid who only looks at a laptop.” I scoff at Reggie’s comment and walk away from him, catching up with Y/N and the girls. I hug her from behind and kiss her cheek. “Hey sunshine,” I smile. Y/N giggles, “now, what did Reggie say to you today? I’ll go fight him for you” “Well, he accused me of hypnotizing you to be my girlfriend.” I frown, fidgeting with my beanie. Y/N’s smile drops, “Hey, you hypnotized me with your good looks, wit, and fanfictions. Now, I’m gonna go fight Reggie.” She struts away, catching up to Reggie. “Wait, THEYRE NOT FANFICTIONS!”

Originally posted by matthew-daddario

You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve lost my voice in screaming in lamentation this weekend, and I have lost my mind sometime earlier this year, so I have to read.

Thank you, Hollywood Foreign Press. Just to pick up on what Hugh Laurie said, you and all of us in this room really, belong to the most vilified segments in American society right now. Think about it, Hollywood, foreigners, and the press.

But who are we, and what is Hollywood anyway? it’s just a bunch of people from other places. I was born and raised and educated in the public schools of New Jersey. Viola [Davis] was born in a sharecropper’s cabin in South Carolina, came up in Central Falls, Rhode Island. Sarah Paulson was born in Florida, raised by a single mom in Brooklyn. Sarah Jessica Parker was one of seven or eight kids from Ohio. Amy Adams was born in Vicenza, Veneto, Italy, and Natalie Portman was born in Jerusalem. Where are their birth certificates?

And the beautiful Ruth Negga was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, raised in London — no Ireland, I do believe, and she’s here nominated for playing a small-town girl from Virginia. Ryan Gosling like all the nicest people, is Canadian. And Dev Patel was born in Kenya, raised in London, is here playing an Indian raised in Tasmania. So Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners, and if we kick them all out we’ll have nothing to watch except football and mixed martial arts, which are not the arts.

They gave me three seconds to say this. So an actor’s only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us, and let you feel what that feels like. And there were many, many powerful performances this year that did exactly that. Breathtaking, compassionate work. But there was one performance this year that stunned me. It sank its hooks in my heart. Not because it was good. There was nothing good about it. But it was effective and it did its job. It made its intended audience laugh and show their teeth. It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter, someone he outranked in privilege, power, and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it, and I still can’t get it out of my head. Because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life.

And this instinct to humiliate when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life because it kind of gives permission for other people to do the same thing.

“Disrespect invites disrespect. Violence incites violence. And when the powerful use their position to bully others, we all lose.

OK, this brings me to the press. We need a principled press to hold power to account, to call them on the carpet for every outrage. That’s why our founders enshrined the press and its freedoms in our Constitution. So I only ask the famously well-heeled Hollywood Foreign Press, and all of us in our community, to join me in supporting the Committee to protect journalists, because we’re going to need them going forward, and they’ll need us to safeguard the truth.

One more thing: Once when I was standing around on the set one day, whining about something, you know, we were going to work through supper or the long hours or whatever. Tommy Lee Jones said to me, “Isn’t it such a privilege, Meryl, just to be an actor?” Yeah, it is, and we have to remind each other of the privilege and the responsibility of the act of empathy. We should all be very proud of the work Hollywood honors here tonight.

As my friend, the dear departed Princess Leia said to me once, ‘Take your broken heart. Make it into art.’ Thank you.

—  Meryl Streep, 74th Golden Globes

omgcerealkiller  asked:

im outta the loop what happened with ian and tana? :o

To the tune of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air

Now this is a story all about how,
A white girl got flipped, turned upside down.
And I’d like to take a minute, so have a seat.
I’ll tell you how Tana Mongoose is now deceased.

In San Antonio born and raised, destroying YouTube channels he spent most of his days.
Chilling out, calling out, and catching the fakes.
And cooking with the boys and eating vomit cake.

When this drama queen, who was up to no good.
Started saying “kill yourself” in his neighborhood.
So he said one little word and gave an evil stare, so she said “CRAZED MAN ATTACKED ME AT A MEETUP??!! I’M SO SCARED! *NOT CLICKBAIT*”

So he set up his cam, the content cop gear.
And he made something that all of YouTube fears.
He made good points and he delivered the hit,
He released a video on how she’s a hypocrite.

And then her subs went down and his went up,
Shouldn’t have messed with the man, the myth, the legend Idubbbz.
He looked at his kingdom, and all of his views.
And sat on his throne as the King of YouTube

(I put way too much into this lol. If this gets 50 notes I’ll also record me rapping it ✌)

“How does your cat keep finding me? It’s such a huge town.”

“I can’t have people knowing I can raise the dead.”

“You’re not someone I can risk losing.”

“Try to understand that everything I’ve done up until now was done with you in mind.”

“You’ve got to be mistaking me for someone else.”

“Honestly, does that even sound like something I’m capable of doing?”

You Talk Too Much

Original or requested: Original

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word count: 1.032


Loki tried to take over your city. Again. While you were patiently waiting for the Avengers to come and save the day, the worse happened. You, with a small group of people, were kidnapped. Kidnapped to Asgard. Now, you stand before his throne in a room that seems like a fairytale. It didn’t suppose to look like a fairytale when you’re standing before Loki, the god of Mischief and Lies.

“Is good to see humans surrendering so easily.” With a mean smile, Loki stands up, looking down at you and the others.

“On your knees.”

Immediately, everyone gets down on their knees, not daring to raise their eyes to the Asgardian god.

“You.” He points at you, his smile fading. “Why aren’t you worshipping me, mortal?”

Keeping your head up, you take a deep breath to gather courage.

“Not interested.” You say, eyes on him as he slowly walks up to you.

“You dare to…”

“Here, just between you and me. I’m not afraid of you. So let’s skip all this worship bullshit and you can take me back home.” You whisper, trying to confuse him. You’ve always been a talker, and you know how to use it in your favor. You just don’t know if it’ll work with a god.

“Are you mad, mortal?” Loki’s face is like ice, you can’t read it. “Take her to a special cell. Kill the others. ”

“What? No!” Before he could turn around, you hold his wrist. He stops anger and surprise in his eyes. “D-don’t do this.”

“Why should I even listen to you?”

“It’s better to be a merciful king than an evil king.”

“I rather be evil.” He whispers before letting the guards take you.

You yell and fight and try to run away, but those guards tell you to keep quiet and just follow the rules. So, when they lock you in this small cell, with a magic glass that can kill you instantly, you scream again. You scream until your throat hurts so bad you can’t find your voice anymore.

After endless hours, you hear footsteps but you don’t bother to stand up. The cold hard ground finally got a bit comfortable. You hope someone is bringing you food. But no. When you see him, the god of Lies again, you know he brought you no food.

“Are you stupidly brave or completely insane?”Somehow, he opens one of those magic glass and enters the cell. “I wish to know what’s on your mind when you stood up to confront me.”

“I’m not the kind of person who…”

“Who’s smart enough to obey your king?”

“You’re not my king.”

“Haven’t you noticed? You’re in Asgard. And this is a gift for you, mortals.” Loki looks around your empty cell, confusion on his handsome face. Wait. Did you just…? No. You can’t think about these things right now. “Were you sleeping on the ground?”

“Yes. Why? You killed the others, why do you care if I’m sleeping on the ground?”

“You talk too much.”

“I know.” You stand up with a sigh, rolling your eyes at the weird sensation that hits your head.

“What is it?” Running to hold you by the waist, Loki saves you from hitting the ground.

“Nothing. I’m just starving. ”

“I’ll command them to bring you something to eat.”

“If you’re going to kill me, you don’t have to feed me first.”

“I quite enjoy your talking. Maybe you can stay for a while to entertain me. ”

“How lucky I am…” You voice faints when the world spins around again, and suddenly, everything goes black.


A warm breeze caress your cheek, and it feels good to be home. You open your eyes to see a blue sky and a sweet light comes to show you that you’re not at home. Is not that Asgard isn’t beautiful, but you don’t like to feel like a prisoner. Moving a bit to sit up, you notice that you’re laying on a very large bed with comfy pillows.

“A golden cage.” You murmur, smelling something that seems to taste like heaven. On a small table next to your bed, there’s a tray with human food.

You happily eat all the fruits, licking your fingers when you’re done with the strawberries. It’s surprising that they got you human food.

“I hope you feel better.” He declares from behind you.

“Yes. Now I can entertain you with my talking. ” You lay down again, fixing the blue dress you’re wearing. “May I ask who put me into this dress?”

“I did.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, anger building up in your stomach. How could he do something like that?

“You son of a bitch!”

“What’s a bitch?” He looks at you confused, not sure if you insulted him. You try to keep angry, but you burst into laugh suddenly. You cover your mouth with your hands, struggling to calm down again.

“Oh my God. You are so damn funny.”

“I really don’t know what just happened.” That’s when you notice it, the shadow of a smile on his lips. You keep staring at him until it’s gone.

“You should smile more often. It makes you even more handsome. ”

“Smile?”

“Yes.” Cursing yourself for talking too much, you awkwardly look to your hands. “Sorry, I was just saying the truth.”

“I know. I’m the god of lies, I can tell when someone is honest. I miss honest people, there’s no one I can trust here.” Loki walks around the bed, eyes locked on you.

“You can talk to me if you want. As you say, I’m nothing but a human.”

“You say it like it’s a curse.”

“It isn’t.”

“Would you stay if I promise not to kill those humans who came here with you?” He sits on the edge of the bed, uncertain of what to do. You feel his hesitation, even though you can’t understand it.

“I’ll stay. Well, you don’t treat me like a prisoner. ”

“If that’s your wish, you’re not a prisoner.”

“Now, tell me all your sorrows.”

“We may take some hours.”

Sitting up straight, you smile at him. “Go on, I don’t mind.”

TO BUGHEAD SHIPPERS PT2

In 10 minutes I got so many people telling me WHAT THAT IS NOT TRUE THEY ARE NEVER GOING TO BE TOGETHER

You’re right because silly me you just can’t split this couple right?

HAH I’M LYING BITCHES PROOF IS COMING YOUR WAY SO BE PREPARED



HAHAHA LET THAT SINK IN FOR YOU

OHHH YOU  THOUGHT I WAS DONE


Real though I ship them so hard. I don’t know this show is honestly amazing. These characters are forever if they break up I am dying and if they get back together i’m getting raised from the dead this how much this ship is

OMG I’M GOING TO SAY IT

NOW NEW OTP GDGWHUGFILUGFIWUEKWQB

3

“(Y/N)?” Loki knocked on your door.

“Yeah?” You answered. He walked in gracefully (as usual) and sat beside you on your bed.

“The Avengers tell me that you are sad because it isn’t snowing.” He looked into your eyes searching for the answer.

“Yeah.” You giggled softly, it was true, it hadn’t snowed where you are and you craved it.

“Why don’t you just make it snow?” He furrowed his brows, clearly confused.

“Because it’s a naturally occuring thing that can’t just be made.” You were now the confused one.

He simply raised his hands and looked up, causing you to look to your ceiling, where snow now fell from.

“Oh my God! Loki! How did you do that?” You laughed as you jumped up attempting to catch the falling snow.

Magic.

As You Wish - Negan

Okay, so this fic is kinda just snapshots of their life, and I really want to do another one where the reader seems him again, so please let me know if you’d like/want that!

“Hey, Rosita,” you said, walking into the medical facility. The gorgeous woman looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, what’s up?” she said, continuing to sharpen her knife.

“How may people do you know, before or now, with the name Negan?”

“Why?”

“Just wondering.” She looked up at you, clearly not believing your story and shook her head. 

“No one. Just this son of a bitch.” You nodded and paused for a moment before walking back out of the facility. You walked aimlessly through out Alexandria, your mind racing. Just a few days before, Rick and the others brought back the news of Negan and his group of Saviours, and what they did and have done.

Since then, you couldn’t stop thinking about the man you knew years ago. It had been two years since you had joined Rick’s group, but you still remembered everything from before. Everything and everyone.


It had been an incredibly sunny day when the last member of your family, your sister, died. She had gone out to go to the bathroom, and the next thing you knew, you were stabbing her in the head to keep her from becoming one of them.

You buried her behind the house you had stayed in for the last few weeks, right next to your mother. You left the house after that, not ever wanting to step back on there again. Walking aimlessly for hours, you eventually heard the all too familiar moan of walkers not too far away. You were bored and had nothing to do, so you walked that way.

After walking through a clearing, you found one man taking on a group of at least thirty walkers. For a moment, you played with the idea of just leaving him here. Then you thought of your family and knew that they wouldn’t want that. So, you picked up the bat in your hand and ran into the clearing.

The handsome man looked over at you in surprise when you bashed the head in of an incoming walker. You smiled slightly at him, and he burst into a pearly white grin. For the next few minutes, no sound was made between the two of you, except a few grunts as you killed walkers. When they were finally all down, the man sat down in the grass, wiping some blood off of his face.

“That’s one hell of a bat you got there,” he finally said, smirking up at you. You smiled back, one of the first true, genuine smiles you had for a long time.

“It’s all about the batter, not the bat,” you said, quoting something your father had told you when you were played little league years ago. He grinned again and you reached out a hand to help him up. He took it with a firm grip and sat up, nearly pulling you along with him.

“Thank you. You’re one hell of a batter.”

“No problem,” you said, swinging the bat over your back. “Well, see you around.” You slowly took a few steps back before turning around. The man cleared his throat and you smiled. 

“Ya know, my mother always told me there was a proper way to thank a woman.” You spun around and tilted your head.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?”

“Let me show you,” he said, nodding his head up at you. You twisted your lips, hiding a smile. 

“I don’t even know your name.”

“And I don’t know yours. Batty?” he asked with a grin. You laughed and shook your head.

“No. Y/N.”

“Negan. Now we know each other’s name. Do you have any other plans for the rest of the day?” You laughed again.

“No.”

“Good, then come with me.” You opened your mouth to come up with an excuse, but couldn’t and didn’t want to think of one. He started walking the opposite way from where you were going, and you followed. There was nothing left for you back there. 

“How did you get yourself tangled up with that mess?” you asked, running a bit to catch up with him.

“I walked right into it.”

“Why?”

“I like a challenge,” he said with a grin, looking down at you. You noticed that his eyes flickered just briefly down your body and you shook your head. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ll make me regret saving your ass.” He smiled and nodded.

“As you wish.”


You were too afraid to ask anyone what this Negan looked like. You knew they would all think you were crazy. This was the man who killed Glenn and Abraham, why should you care what he looked like?

The sun was bright like it was that day two years ago. You sat down in the grass near the gazebo that Reg had built. You started pulling at the grass, not even thinking about what you were doing.

So many people had lost so much a few nights ago. You were selfish to begin to worry about yourself. The man you knew must be long gone. He would have never been capable of doing this. You laid down on your stomach, letting the prickly grass tickle your stomach. 

No matter what you did, though, you couldn’t keep Negan from your thoughts. Everything that the two of you went through, you knew him as well as you knew yourself. There was no way this was the same man. There was no way this was the same man, you repeated to yourself over and over.


Negan and you walked for nearly an hour. He asked you question after question about how you got here and what you had to go back to. You told him about your family, and everything that had happened to get you here. When you asked him the same questions, his bright smile faltered. 

You apologized, letting him know that he didn’t have to tell you, but he did. He told you about the child he lost just before everything happened, and the wife he lost afterwards. The two of you fell into a silence after that until a cabin came into view. 

“That’s mine,” he said. He led the way for a few more paces, and opened the back, wooden door for you. You stepped into the cabin, looking around the small place. The backdoor led into a kitchen. A sweet aroma filled the room, and you could have swore something was cooking. 

“That’s my sweet bread,” he said, closing the door behind him. You looked back at him in shock and he put up his hands. “I told you, I like a challenge.”

He let you stay for dinner, where he cooked you your first real meal in a long time. The spaghetti was delicious, and he served it with a bottle of whiskey. He was surprised that you were a whiskey drinker, making you smile. You told him you were full of surprises. 

The bright sun that had taunted you all day was beginning to set and you knew you needed to go. There was only a few more minutes left for you to find shelter. You walked towards the door where your bat was leaned against and picked it up.

“Where you going?” Negan asked. You turned around with a slight smile.

“Your mother did teach you how to thank a girl. But I really should get going.”

“It’s nearly dark.”

“And I’ve extended my welcome. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will, but I’d like it if you stayed. It would make me feel a little safer if I knew I had the greatest batter sleeping in my bed.” You felt a blush creep across your cheeks and opened your mouth before closing it again.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” you said immediately. Negan laughed and put up his hands defensively. 

“I didn’t mean nothing by it. I just meant you could sleep in my bed.”

“I’m not gonna kick you out.” He flopped down on the couch, his smile still plastered on his face.

“I like the couch even more.” You sighed and laid the bat back down. Darkness was already falling and there was no way you were going to find good cover in the next ten minutes.

“Fine. Just for the night.”

“As you wish.”


One night turned into many, and eventually you and Negan had been together for a month. You kept up the same routine. Negan offered you his bed every night, and you always denied. He always ended up taking the couch, though. 

One of those mornings, you woke up to the sound of someone in the bathroom. You rolled over in bed and saw Negan standing in front of the mirror. His hair was wet from the makeshift shower you two had created out of well water. He noticed your gaze and looked over at you.

“Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you replied sleepily. “What are you doing? Admiring your reflection?”

“No, that’s your job.” You snorted and fought off the blush growing on your cheeks. “I was actually thinkin’ about shaving,” he said, motioning to the blade in his hands. You jumped out of bed and took the blade from his hand. You had gotten up so quickly, you forgot that you were wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Negan took notice, a small smile growing on his face.

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to shave?” he asked.

“I like the beard.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled.

“Then I’ll keep it.” You smiled and relinquished the blade back into his hands. “But, if we’re talking about the things we like, I like this look on you.” You let out a breath, realizing that you were about an inch away from him.

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll keep wearing it,” you said as coyly as possible. He laughed as you walked away and crawled back into bed. You turned away from him, not wanting him to see the smile and blush on your face. 

“You wanna go on a run with me?” he asked, kicking the edge of the bed. You rolled over and looked at him. 

“Yeah.” He held out his hand and he helped you out of bed. “Give me a minute to get ready?” 

“Yeah.”

An hour or so later, you had found a truck with a good bit of gas still in it, and were on your way to the grocery store that Negan had scouted out a few days ago. When you pulled up right outside the grocery store, Negan got out first. You grabbed onto your bat and shut the door behind you.

“You always use that bat?” he asked, a smirk growing on his face.

“Always. It’s good luck.”

“Well good, cause we’re gonna need it.” You swung the bat over your shoulder and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“Mmhm,” he said, biting his lip. You followed him through the parking lot, noticing a few walkers shuffling around. “I know there’s gotta be more inside.”

“Alright. Well let’s get going.”

“I like your enthusiasm,” he said, tossing you a empty bag. As you walked towards the entrance, Negan stabbed two walkers that were walking closer to you both. You picked up your bat and smashed the glass doors opened. Before you walked in, though, Negan stopped you. You looked up at him curiously as he picked a piece of shattered glass out of your hair.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.” He walked into the store, and you followed, soon realizing that his guess was right. The store was crawling with walkers. Some of them took notice of your sound, but most hadn’t. You two exchanged a look and a wicked smile came across Negan’s face. 

He walked further into the room and started taking them down one by one. The more he stabbed the more that came closer to him. He seemed to grow happier as each one crossed his path. Soon, they were nearly all gone. He looked back at you, the same grin on his face. You clapped your hands in mock appreciation and he bowed.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Alright, superman,” you said. “Let’s get looking.” He laughed and nodded, taking his bag back from your hand. You split up and started looking for anything. You found two tubes of toothpaste, a hairbrush, three cans of refried beans, one bag of spaghetti noodles, and a jar of apricot jelly. You were about to head back to search your area again when you heard a crash. 

Taking off towards where the sound came from, you looked to find Negan in the middle of the technology center, three walkers coming in on him. You looked down and saw his knife completely out of reach. In his hands, he had a dvd box of Risky Business in his hands, and was currently using that as a weapon.

“Need a little help?” you called. He looked back at you, and a little bit of a smile spread across his face.

“No, I’ve got it.” You laughed. When you did, the walker closest to you noticed you and started walking towards you. In one swing, you killed it. Negan clapped a little and you moved closer towards him. The walkers were getting close to him, and in his defense, he did manage to impale one of them with Risky Business. You walked forward and killed the other. “Thanks,” he said.

“Yeah. Did you find anything good?” you asked. He shrugged and started to reach for his bag, but as he did, you heard the familiar moan of a walker. Looking down, you saw one had grabbed onto his hand, and was crawling out of the shelving underneath the center. Instantly, as Negan struggled to free himself, you picked up your bat and immediately bashed its head in. 

A bit of blood had splattered on both of your faces, and you were both close now. Negan looked up at you in surprise, and just as you were about to rub it in his face, he put a hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss. You were surprised but didn’t let that stop you from kissing him back twice as hard. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours for a moment.

“You have blood on your cheek,” he said, wiping a bit of it away.

“That kind of happens when you save someone’s life.” He laughed and sighed.

“Thank you.”


“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked, drawing you from your imagination. You looked up at him and smiled. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” you replied. He sat down in the grass next to you and took a deep breath. For a while, the two of you just sat in silence while a million questions raged in your mind. Eventually, you couldn’t help yourself and blurted something out.

“Do you think anyone can be redeemed?” you asked. He looked at you thoughtfully and took a moment before responding.

“I believe that our lord is forgiving and kind. So, yes, I think that anyone can be redeemed. Why do you ask?”

“I’m tired of people dying,” you said, picking at some of the grass. 

“Are you talking about Glenn and Abraham? They were good me-”

“I’m not talking about them,” you said immediately. You were doing everything you could to not think about Glenn and Abraham.

“Then who are you referring to?” he asked. You didn’t answer and continued to pick at the grass. You could feel his eyes on you, so you eventually met them.

“Do you believe in evil?”

“Why?”

“Do you think someone who has done evil things can become good again?” 

“I think if they put their mind to it they could. Anyone can change.”

“Not everyone can be forgiven,” you said, frowning.

“No, I suppose that depends on the person,” he said. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you said, standing up and dusting the grass off of you. “Like I said, I’m just tired of people dying.”


One day, weeks after the incident as the grocery store, you and Negan were sitting out in the sun. You were leaning against his chest, twirling your bat in between your fingers.

“How long do you think you’ll keep that bat?” he asked.

“Forever. And then when I die you’ll get to take care of it,” you said. He chuckled and shook his head.

“You’re not gonna die, Y/N.”

“Someday,” you said with a shrug.

“Why do you think you’ll die before me?” he asked. “Like you’ve said before, I’m a million years older.” You smiled and tilted your head back to look at him.

“That is true. I don’t know why, but I just know I will.” He shook his head and pulled you close.

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” You kissed him.

“How about who ever outlives the other has to take care of the bat?” you asked.

“Fine,” he said with a laugh. “If this bat is going to be our child, what should it be called?” he asked. You laughed and looked back at the bat.

“Lucille.”

“Lucille?”

“Yeah, it was my grandmother’s name.”

“You’re kidding,” he said, taking the bat from your hand. 

“No. I always promised that I would name my child after her. I’m not going to have any real children so why not.” Negan looked at you seriously and sighed.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah I do,” you said, standing up. “I wouldn’t bring a child into this mess. Now, can I have the bat back?” you asked. 

“She has a name.” You snorted.

“Can I have Lucille back?”

“Of course,” he said, handing it to you. “She’s a lady, you’ve got to treat her like one.”


“Hey, Simon, have you seen Negan?” you asked. He shook his head. Within the last six months, you and Negan has met a man named Simon, and his small group. All together, there was about ten of you, and you had to move out of your cabin. You had found an abandoned motel in a small town, and were currently working on renovating it to make homes for everyone in your group.

“Try the administration building,” Katie said. You nodded and walked towards the room. You opened the door and found him rifling through all of the useless paperwork in there.

“Hey,” you said softly. He looked up and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, walking around the front desk he stood behind and sitting up on the counter top.

“Just through all this shit. What’s up?”

“Just looking for you.” He smiled and put his hands on your thighs, moving closer to you.

“Well you found me, baby.” You grinned and leaned in to kiss him. He smiled into your kiss and pulled you in closer by tugging on your lip. He had moved himself closer by spreading open your legs so that he was now standing in between them.

“Negan, I-” Simon walked into the room and immediately stopped talking. Negan stopped kissing you and tensed up a little. He pulled away and looked over at him.

“What?” he asked.

“There was just a few things I wanted to ask you about,” he said. Negan opened his mouth, and you knew he was about to rip Simon a new one so you put a hand on his muscular shoulder.

“Okay, Simon, he’ll be there in a minute.” He nodded and walked out of the room. Negan looked at you with a bit of anger and you pushed him back so you could jump down.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“What?” you asked, looking back at him as you moved towards the door. “Don’t get shitty with me.”

“I’ve never gotten shitty with you,” he said firmly.

“Well don’t start. You’re a good leader. These people look to you for guidance, give it to them.”

“I don’t like to be interrupted,” he said. You sighed and walked back towards him, pecking him on the lips. 

“To be continued,” you said. He smiled and kissed you once more.


You would spend a year and three months with Negan before the unthinkable happened. The renovations to the motel has proved successful, and your group was starting to grow. Negan had become the unofficial leader of the group, and you two had moved into one of the nicer rooms on the third floor.

You woke up one night when you heard a sound. Crawling out of Negan’s strong grip, you moved towards the window, wondering what was going on. Across the way, you saw a small fire burning. 

“Negan. Babe, wake up,” you called, keeping your eyes glued on the fire. “Negan!” He woke up and looked over at you in confusion.

“What?”

“Come here.” He groaned and threw the blankets off of him, walking your way. He put a hand on your waist, making you step away from the window.

“The hell?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“Who is that?” you asked. He shrugged.

“I don’t see anyone. I’ll go check it out.”

“No,” you said immediately. “Make Simon go out. I don’t want you to leave me,” you said, putting a hand on his exposed chest. He smirked and looked down at your hand, and then down the rest of your body.

“Well, you are wearing my favorite outfit.” You glanced down at your t-shirt and underwear and laughed.

“You’re a perv.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyways,” he said, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You nearly forgot about the fire as he kissed you, and pushed him away suddenly.

“The fire,” you said. He rolled his eyes and walked to the door. As he walked two doors down to talk to Simon, you kept your eyes glued on the fire. Like Negan said, you couldn’t see anyone around the fire. He came back a moment later, and pulled you away from the window.

“Come on,” he said, picking you up just slightly and throwing you back down on the bed. You laughed and he laid down on top of you. He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face and you smiled.

“Did you get Simon to go check it out?” 

“Yeah, he and Tony are going out now.”

“Good. Thank you.” He nodded and leaned down to kiss you softly. “I love you.”

“Of course you do,” he said with a grin. You shoved his shoulder, pushing him off of you. You got out of bed, and started moving back towards the window as he laughed.

“I’m just kidding, I love you, too. Baby, I love you so much.” You looked back at him, watching him smile up at you.

“Yeah?”

“More than anything.”

“You better,” you said, taking a step closer to the bed. “I’d have to kill you if you d-” An explosion cut you off and soon you were blacked out.

When you woke up again, it was daytime and you were laying in a pile of rubble and bodies. Turning your head slightly, you saw Katie. Her eyes were wide open, and there was blood dripping from her head. You started to panic, realizing what was happening.

Whoever had done this had put you in this pile because they thought you were dead. You listened carefully and heard muffled voices. Braving a look up, you didn’t see anyone around and figured they were closer to the burning down motel. You knew that you had only a moment to get away, and took your moment.

You stood up, and immediately stumbled. Your ankle was definitely sprained at best, maybe even broken. You hobbled the best you could towards the woods surrounding the motel. Surprisingly, there weren’t many walkers coming towards the noise, so you didn’t have to worry about that.

Instead, you focused your worry on where Negan was. You looked for his body in the pile, but didn’t see him. You thought about going back and looking for him, but knew that he wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. You ran away from the motel until it was dark again. You hobbled back, finding it deserted. The entire place was burnt to ashes, now, with only the administration building still standing. 

You raced towards it, not caring about the pain in your ankle. Hoping with every fiber of your being that Negan would be standing in the room looking through paper work again, you swung open the door. You looked through all of the remains, looked at all of the half burnt dead bodies, and called and called for him. Negan wasn’t here. 

Looking around desperately, the pain in your ankle finally started to get to you. You fell down on your knees and started crying. The last hope you had for this world was gone, and you were all alone. Again.


You made your way back to your house in Alexandria and shook away the tears that were starting to form in your eye again. Negan was dead. He had been dead for the past two years. He was gone and you were never going to see him again.

This Negan wasn’t the same one, you tried to assure yourself. Yours was gone, and you needed to move on from that.

today, i’ve been crying all day. my mother, who is an arab, muslim immigrant and citizen of the united states for 27 years, and one of the strongest women i know, saw me when i was trying to study, but instead of words, there were tear drops on my paper. she sits down next to me and she asks me whats wrong. i tell her that im scared. she takes my hand and she says,
“i know. i know you’re scared. it sucks. it’s going to be hard and it’s up to God now. we’ve done our part. but now, prepare to fight. prepare to fight. your father and i raised three other kids for 12 years during the Bush presidency, okay? trump may be a modern day hitler, but he isn’t the first. it’s happening with the zionists to the palestinians. it’s happening in egypt. in yemen. in syria. but you fight. you know how? you study, you learn, you get good grades, and go to college. that’s how you fight. you beat them with your intelligence. if you die, you die. and it’s because God said it was your time. but you study and you prepare to fight.”

  • Professor Snape:  Ah, Mrs Patil, can you guess which potion requires a powdered root of asphodel?
  • Parvati:  Um, no.
  • Snape:  Try, Mrs. Patil.
  • Parvati :  Uh, Pepper Up Potion?
  • Snape:  Incorrect. Okay, either someone give me an answer or I will give you all double homework and a quiz tomorrow. Now, I want a volunteer with the answer... Now!
  • Hermione:  (Sighing in disgust while raising her hand for the answer)
  • Snape:  Granger, stop showing off!