I would like for negan to have
just the worst day. He’s got a headache and just wants to go to bed. He’s
shocked when he finds that the reader is the only one who waited up for him.
Instead of letting her leave he invites her to his room for the night. Sweet
smut with cuddling at the end please. Usual negan stuff cussing dirty talk.
Warnings: NSFW as always
Note: Back with a request! I hope y’all like this especially you, irenewolfland! Let me know your thoughts please? :)
It was late at night when the
Saviors arrived back at the Sanctuary and Negan was damn pissed for how their
day went. A ruckus had occurred when they visited a certain community for a
collection; turned out that the community geared up to attack them. Guns were
fired and many people were killed, a some of Negan’s men included. Instead of
getting their shit, the Saviors ended up going home with injuries and dead
bodies. This angered Negan a whole lot, not only did he come home empty handed
but he also lost his men and weapons as well.
As Negan hopped off the vehicle,
a Savior blocked his way. “Sir, Adam didn’t make it. He died on our way back
here. What should we do to the body?” He reported, referring to a wounded
Negan turned towards the Savior
with a stoic expression. “Fuck it.”
“For fucking fuckity fuck’s sake,
Mike. Have you been living under a fucking rock or are you just plain fucking
stupid?! Burn the fucking body, you dumbass cocksucking motherfucker!” Negan
yelled in frustration and shoved the Savior to the side as he walked.
Anonymous said: Jeff x Reader where they go to one of Bryce’s parties and he a pool blah blah blah, but reader is terrified and doesn’t know how to swim and a drink Monty throws her in or something of the sort, so Jeff, of course, comes to her rescue. Thanks :p :)
Author’s Note: So I had a little trouble understanding this prompt. Especially since I didn’t know if the relationship between Jeff/Reader was supposed to be already established or not. I tried my best and wrote what I could.
Jeff X Reader
“Tell me again why I agreed to this?” You frown, tugging on an overly large plaid shirt and leaving it unbuttoned atop your one-piece bathing suit. “I mean, it’s Bryce’s party. I don’t even like Bryce.”
Jeff chuckles, picking through your cut-off jean shorts before finding the ones you were looking for earlier and tossing them to you. “No one likes Bryce. Not really. But his parties are pretty legit.”
“Sometimes.” You wriggle into your shorts, buttoning them up and sighing as you look for a pair of sandals to wear. “But I’m not going anywhere near that pool. You can’t make me.”
“Let’s drive down to the beach, Yuuri!” Viktor says on the first warm day the year Yuuri comes to Saint Petersburg. “We’ll have a picnic! Tell Yura to come too!”
Yuuri thinks a picnic sounds like a wonderful idea until he’s actually in the car. Like, this is the man he loves and he will always support him, but he decides .4 seconds into this drive that he’s hiding Viktor’s license.
Viktor turns left on red while there’s a minivan twenty meters away hurtling towards them at 75 kilometers per hour.
Viktor seems to think that screeching swerve is an acceptable way to change lanes.
Viktor initiates a stop seven feet away from the bumper of the car in front.
What’s defensive driving? Not in Viktor’s vocabulary. You know what is? Stupidass prick goddamn (”Vitya you ran the light”) my FIANCE is in this car you stupid black SUV driving asswipe come fight me motherfucker–
Yuuri has lost count of the number of stop signs they’ve blown through. They’ve only been in the car ten minutes. Yuuri’s life is flashing before his eyes. Before this, he’s never heard Viktor swear and he now can’t get the sound of Viktor screaming Dick canoe! out of his head.
When Yuri starts learning to drive, Yuuri teaches him. Yuuri physically wrestles Viktor to the ground and bans him from ever instructing Yuri in how to drive.
Because he loves Viktor, but Viktor can. not. drive.
Thank you all for your words of support! My grandmother is still
fighting, bless her beautiful soul, because she just doesn’t know how to
give up. It has been so hard to see her decline, and it will be harder
still to say good bye, but it’s nearly her time and I’m ok with that.
Or at least, as ok as I can be. But that’s way more about my personal
life than any of you really wanted to know. I did decide to just skip
yesterday’s for the time being, though I plan to revisit it later. The
story wasn’t ready for the reveal yet, anyway. :)
This is for Reyxa on AO3! Keep It In Your Plants is an absolutely adorable WIP, and I highly recommend it–along with her other works.
TRIGGER WARNING: Mari is assaulted, but is NOT raped, and it’s in no
way graphic. Still, if it’s hard for you to read about a woman being
attacked, you might want to skip this one.
“That guy was totally checking you out.”
“Huh? What guy?”
Marinette craned her neck to look back around the edge of the booth, at
the crowd surging on the dance floor and thronging around the bar. It
was Teen Night at Vie Nocturne, and Nino had gotten a job DJing
the club’s weekly event for the summer. He’d extracted promises from his
friends to attend as often as they could, and this was his first night.
one standing next to you at the bar,” Alya yelled, leaning in close to
be heard over the music. At Marinette’s blank look, Alya rolled her
eyes in exasperation. “The one who offered to buy you a drink?”
“Oh, him.” Marinette shrugged, and sipped on her soda.
“‘Oh him’ she says. Girl, he was smokin’!”
“I guess. But I was getting the creep vibe from him, big time. No, thanks.”
ew,” Alya nodded in understanding, her face scrunched up in a grimace
as she sucked down more of her soda. “I hope he’s not a regular, then.”
“I’m not worried about it. We can just avoid him, and any other creeps we come across.”
on.” Alya clicked her plastic cup to Marinette’s in a toast, and they
downed the last of their drinks. “I think Nino will be due for a break
soon, want to go wait by the sound booth?”
their empty cups on the table, they slid from the worn bench. Without
the partition of the booth, the music was even louder. Alya led the way
through the crush toward the DJ’s booth. Marinette had no trouble
staying with her at first, but someone stumbled into her, causing her to
trip over someone behind her and she landed painfully on the floor.
she regained her feet, Alya was nowhere to be seen. “Damn,” she
muttered, brushing any possible debris from her back side. At least she
knew where Alya was headed, so they shouldn’t be separated for long.
Unfortunately, she’d only taken about two steps when the guy from the
bar appeared in her path, with two drinks and an oily grin.
“Excuse me, please.”
“Why don’t we got sit down somewhere, and get to know one another?”
She stifled a shudder. “No, thank you.”
He stepped forward, crowding into her space. “Come on, why you gotta be like that? I just want to talk.”
She frowned, and attempted to side-step him without answering.
He stepped with her, his expression hard. “What, you think you’re too good for me?”
“I ‘think’ that I’m not interested. Move.” She watched his jaw clench, and wondered whether he would try to push it further.
He moved, and she went to find Alya and Nino, who greeted her with relief.
you are!” Alya grabbed her shoulders and looked her over, as if
assessing damage. “What happened? I thought you were right behind me.”
“Someone bumped into me, and knocked me down. I’m fine. See?” She spun in place, giggling.
Alya grinned, and linked their arms. “Well I’m not letting you go again while we’re here.”
plan.” Nino nodded his approval, and turned to put his hand on the
door knob behind him. “You ladies want to see my new office?”
Much later, Alya and Marinette parted ways after leaving
the metro. They exchanged hugs and promises to call the next day, and
turned in opposite directions, toward their respective homes.
wasn’t a long walk for either of them, and neither one thought anything
about going on alone. It was a nice area, after all, and they’d done
this sort of thing too many times to count. Marinette began to question
the wisdom of that shortly after leaving the metro station, when she
became aware of someone walking a short distance behind her. Unease
rippled over her skin. She picked up her pace, and so did they.
cursed, feeling the unease bloom into fear. She knew she could handle
herself, but had no desire to put it to the test. She sped up again,
and whoever it was began to run. “Merde!” She ran too, but they must
have been closer than she realized. He tackled her to the ground, and
flipped her roughly to her back, straddling her thighs and pinning her
hands to the concrete sidewalk.
Fear turned to fury.
“Bastard! Get off of me!” She tried to buck him off of her, but too much of his weight rested on her thighs.
“You stuck up bitch. I only wanted to talk to you!”
stopped struggling for a moment, and peered into his face. “You,” she
spat. “I’m not stuck up, I’m just not interested! Let me go!”
“Not until I get what I want from you.”
“No! Get off of me!”
was a breeze, and a pair of booted feet slammed into the man’s side,
knocking him off of her and sending him to sprawl a few meters away.
Noir landed in a roll, and bounced to his feet. “I believe the lady
told you to let her go,” he said coldly, stepping over the groaning
man. He crouched by where she sat on the sidewalk. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just pissed that I let him get that close.”
nodded, more than satisfied with her answer, and stood. Then he held
out a hand to help her to her feet as well. “Call the police? I think
that you should report this.”
“Yeah, me t—Chat, look out!” She
shoved him to the side with one hand, and clocked her assailant with the
other. “You stupid motherfucker, stay down!”
Chat Noir bent over the man’s prone form with an appreciative whistle,
then regarded her with raised brows. “You know, I’ve never heard you
use that kind of language before.”
“Sometimes, it’s necessary.” She shook out her hand, grimacing. “That bastard was going to hit you from behind.”
He wrapped her in a hug, and pressed his lips to her temple. “Remind me never to piss you off, Princess.”
Have you ever looked at one half of your OTP and thought “ Hold that motherfucker’s hand you stupid asshat coward. You know you want to hold their hand with your sweaty palm, I know you do. Do it or else I will write you doing it. I have power do not fucking challenge me”
hey Hamilton, hows that "shooting into the air" strategy working out for you? How many times out of two did it work again?
Sorry, I didn't catch that, Madison did you catch that?
I SAID ZERO YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH YOU MOTHERFUCKING SHOW PONY YOU MACARONI FUCKER FUCKINH HALF EATEN SANDWICHH PRISSY FUCKNUGGET FUCKIN IDIOT FUCKING BITCH YOU MAGENTA ASSHOLE GODDAMN USELESS FCUKER FUCOISIFIJSHEYHFHRTEHRJD
*heartily laughs and slaps forehead* ah that's RIGHT
Also, there are several people that I tried to tag, but Tumblr wouldn’t let me, you’re tags are struck through.
Your brother was a filthy wanker, you’d known that most of your life, what you hadn’t known was the extent of his douchebaggery. You sure as fuck knew now.
Pacing the confines of your cell did little to quell your anger; if anything, it angered you more. Charlie and your father were, no doubt, somewhere nearby sipping champagne and toasting the impending deaths of millions of people while you paced, unable to do anything about it.
Chester King, an old family friend, had approached you brother about joining the Kingsman just months ago, but that’d gone tits up when the Kingsman had realized just how much of a pansy ass Charlie was. You assumed the organization was unaware that your father and Charlie discussed it so freely that you were privy to a good few of it’s secrets, not just it’s existence. Like the fact that it’s leader was in on Valentine’s murder spree. Fuck, you needed to get out of here.
How long do you think it takes for Bucky to find youtube footage of Steve fighting Aliens?
“Oh shit.” Steve freezes like a deer in headlights at Bucky’s yell, and Sam just looks at him because what the fuck. “You didn’t tell him about the-”
“I didn’t tell him about the-”
“Steven Grant get your pasty Irish ass in here right the fuck now!” Bucky slams his bedroom door open hard enough to crack the wall behind it, Starkpad in hand with…
Oh fuck. He found YouTube.
“Listen, it was just the one-”
“You reckless son of a bitch!” The Starkpad goes sailing past Sam’s head to smash against the fridge, only avoiding Steve’s face by virtue of his enhanced reflexes. “Aliens, Steve! Motherfucking goddamn aliens?! You almost got your stupid ass killed!”
“I was fine!” The most amusing part of this frankly terrifying exchange, Sam thinks from his new vantage point under the kitchen table, is the way they manage to sound like an old married couple even as Steve whines in protest. It’s ridiculous.
“You got blown out of Grand Central!”
“It’s not like I never got blown up before!”
“Yeah, like the time you threw yourself on a fuckin’ grenade before you even got the goddamn-”
“Are you still on about that?! It was eighty years ago!”
“I leave you behind with strict fuckin’ instructions to not get yourself killed, and what do I get?! You throw your skinny ass on a fuckin’ grenade!”
“It wasn’t real!”
“Do not start that shit with me again!”
Really, Sam considers, the only thing that would make this better would be popcorn.
i have an important question about the anthro au: is fury ACTUALLY not weak to tony's "prbbt?" or is he just really good at compartmentalizing and holding himself together in a work situation until he can get alone and scream silently into his hands at how cute it was?
This is a very important question. It deserves a very important answer.
Fury has been weak to Tony’s “prbbt” exactly twice.
The first time happened when he accompanied Peggy to a meeting with Howard as his mansion and Jarvis led them into the living room to find Howard, Maria, and a very tiny Tony asleep on the couch together. Jarvis reached out to shake Howard awake but accidentally brushed Tony’s ear and Tony jerked awake with a “prrbbbbt!” and looked around all blearily and rubbed his eyes with his little hands. Fury had never been around kittens before and it’s the first time he’s ever seen it. (Maria and Howard end up going ‘prbbt!’ as well but he doesn’t think it’s nearly as cute or sweet as Tony’s. He would be ashamed of how affected he is but Peggy had had to turn away to compose herself for a moment too.)
The second time is when he meets Tony at a diner because he needed updates on something Tony was working on for SHIELD and Tony had insisted he was hungry. (Fury will never admit he hated SHIELD’s coffee and Tony didn’t actually have to twist his arm too hard.) Tony’s talking, clutching a cheeseburger and slurping a milkshake. Fury has been keeping his eye on that guy in the corner. He’s very suspicious. It wouldn’t surprise him if the guy had it out for him or Tony. And then there’s an explosion and Fury is able to protect himself but when he looks up Tony is unconscious on the ground, a wound bleeding sluggishly on his right temple. Fury knocks the table over for cover and drags Tony to him, clutching him protectively to his chest as he tells him he’s gotta wake up and don’t be dead you stupid motherfucker. He shoots back when he hears bullets ricochet off the table and he curses and as he peeks over the edge to see that guy and two carefully placed bullets take out both his kneecaps and have him in enough agony to stop shooting at them. He keeps his gun trained on him just in case as he calls for backup and an ambulance.
And then he hears a tiny, soft, ‘prbbt?’ Fury clutches Tony’s chin to tilt his face up and Tony is blinking up at him with bleary eyes, and he asks a soft, confused, “What happened?” And Fury just clutches at him again in relief because oh good this kid isn’t dead, and instead of answering he says, “You stay awake, asshole, or I’m kicking you from the team!”
(Maybe it’s two and a half times, because Fury comes into Tony’s room in medical later, when the rest of the Avengers are asleep, but Tony hears his shoes on the tile and goes ‘prbbbt?’ and squints his eyes open, and Fury tells him to go the fuck back to sleep. Tony does.)
the only reason you got mad when you were asked for proof is because you're a liar.
The news articles have literally been posted in the thread. I was mad because I literally just had a man die while I was doing chest compressions on him with police standing by refusing to give me medical gear.
Scroll my Tumblr or look in the comments and reblogs. There are news articles. I have a photo of my pistol and the Portland police bureau evidence bag it was put in. I have pictures I took this afternoon of the crime scene (my block and street corner). I just haven’t bothered posting them because you stupid motherfuckers will still say it didn’t happen. You’ll say that even though the news articles give the time and place of the crime that I stole the evidence bag from the cops somehow and put fake blood on my hands. Y'all are still claiming I’m not special forces even though there are literally news stories about it.
Not everything is conspiracy. Sometimes a murder is actually a murder.
Unless you’re in Africa, when you hear hoofbeats, look for horses. Not zebras.