but not worth the headache this morning

Never Have I Ever

The crew plays Never Have I Ever and when the question “never have I ever fucked my best friend” is asked, it opens up both memories and opportunities for Jim and Leonard.

Based on this post by @rustleofthestars and contribution by @mccoymostly

Warnings: there is a tiny bit of maybe-nsfw :)


Leonard McCoy is not a teenager anymore so how he ends up playing Never Have I Ever is completely beyond him.

It’s probably Jim.

As he sees the other down a shot with practiced ease, he decides it is definitely Jim.

It started out innocently enough, moving along to the “never have I ever been black-out drunk” and “never have I ever backed down from a bar fight” questions.

Then it’s Pavel’s turn.

Pavel who has drunk more than Leonard and truth be told he’s a bit worried about the kid. Both for his alcohol levels as for his future. Now, though, the Russian just furrows his brow in thought and then with a smirk says: “Never have I ever fucked my best friend,”

The moment the words leave Pavel’s lips Leonard turns to look at Jim.

Jim, who turns to Leonard with a smirk.

Jim, whose moans, soft fingers and kisses Leonard still remembers.


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I need a place to hide Kol Mikaelson x reader oneshot

Originally posted by ipusheveryoneaway

author: Fandomcollector00

word count: 1886

warnings none

authors note: I know this is a little different from what I write, but honestly I am a part of so many fandoms It is hard to keep up, and the Originals is one of them and Kol… god I love him. So I hope you like it if, not I had to write it anyways I needed some Kol fluff in my life after watching the Originals in one day. Enjoy :)

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It’s All Fun & Games (pt. 4)

( ‘till somebody loses their mind )

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Drabbles

Summary: In which you and Jungkook attempt to fake a relationship for revenge and end up with a lot more than either of you expected.
Genre: Angst/Fluff, Fake Dating!AU
Word Count: 4,186
Author’s Note: Ha, ha…… I’m just going to go ahead and apologize now. 


December bleeds into January, and on one particular Thursday evening, Jungkook is thoroughly drunk as fuck, his mind much more hazy and uncontrolled than he is use to, the adrenaline rush of his latest win of the basketball game turning into something else. Something much more controlled and determined, something strong enough to force him out the door of Jimin’s house party. No one inside is sober enough to make him stay.

He staggers down the stairs and makes his way across the pavement of sidewalks, ignoring the way he shoulders people, giggles profusely to himself, overcome with a stupid kind of confidence that can only be ignited with way too much alcohol in his system.

Not thinking too deeply about the consequences of any of his actions, he approaches a familiar apartment complex, scales the stairs in such a dizzying way he almost throws up into one of the nearby trash bins. He doesn’t, but he does manage to fling himself rather unceremoniously against the apartment number he knows so well that even his drunk self can recognize its significance.

“(Y/N)! Oh (Y/N)!” He yells in a sing-song voice, banging on the door so hard it echoes through the entire complex.

You swing the door open after his second swing, eyes wide and face flushed with vague irritation. “Jungkook, what the hell?” You snap, grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him inside the room. You slam the door shut after poking your head out to ensure none of your neighbors would report you for noise control. “I thought you were Jimin’s party, celebrating your big win, I may add.”

“Mmmm,” Jungkook whines in the back of his throat, launching himself at you to wrap his arms around your shoulder. “I wanted to see you—why couldn’t you go? It would have been so much fun with you!”  

You gingerly rest your own hands upon his shoulders. “Jungkook, I told you. I’m trying to finish up my essay. It’s due tomorrow. And why does it matter to you if I went or not? It’s not like we have to put up so much of a front now that everyone thinks that we’re dating.” The last statement slips past your lips without too much thought, and you hate how dry the words sound leaving your lips.

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soulmates see color (IzuMito)

Happy late birthday @elenathehun​.  I wrote IzuMito like you wanted ^.^  💕 

(AO3 link - contains all author notes)

This is fucking ridiculous.

Izuna drags a hand down his face, closing his eyes to the massive warehouse full of various merchandise, and sincerely regrets asking his father for this mission. He certainly hadn’t wanted to accompany Uncle Kenrou’s group to the western desert with his brother (of all miserable places), but he also hadn’t realized at the time that he’d have to track this group of thieves south and east to cut over nearly the entirety of Hi no Kuni, sneak past patrols from several different clans (most of whom would love to kill him), and then curve back upwards to stop within kunai-throwing distance of the Yu no Kuni border.

And now he’s finally caught up to his quarry, except they’ve already sold his client’s priceless (and pointless) trinket to a merchant.

A very successful merchant.

One who possess an unnecessarily large stock in his opinion and is either the most disorganized and eclectic woman Izuna’s ever come across or who has evidently met her soulmate and decided afterwards to implement a color-based organizational scheme among her products.

Which makes this night so much better given that to him everything just looks like a mass of yellows and grays with a scattering of blues.

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Just Another Day in Paradise

PAIRING: Phan (Phil / Dan)
GENRE: fluff
WARNINGS: pre-smut, mentions of sex, but no sex, cute parent!phan stuffs, mpreg 
SUMMARY: songfic based off of Just Another Day in Paradise by Phil Vassar
AUTHORS NOTE: I thought dan and phil having their own kids instead of adoption would be cool. Also yes this is a country song.


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phone calls


pairing: oak x reader

prompt: i was fighting with one of my friends and this happened lol

words: 500ish

a/n: first oak. just a short lil drabble. i hope u like it lol lemme know xo

You were on the phone with him, crying your eyes out.

“Oak, this can’t be happening!” You sobbed as you paced the floor. Your breathing was labored, the tears choking you up.

“Y/N,” he sighed. His voice sounded warm. “She’s going to get over it, she has to.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Of course I do. I was in high school too,” Oak smiled.

You rolled your eyes. Oak had left for college this year and left you - his best friend - back in high school as a senior. You best girl friend - well, exbest girl friend - had just posted a picture of you on her Instagram, calling you a back stabbing bitch for stealing her man. When in fact, you already had eyes for someone else. Cough cough.

“I didn’t even do it. Fucking Lindsay -”


You held back a giggle before continuing, “Lindsay was screwing him for months. All I did was ask him for help on chemistry -”

“Chemistry? I’m good at chemistry. Why didn’t you ask -”

“And suddenly I’m a slut? It’s ridiculous.”

You continued to hear Oak grumble about chemistry for a moment before sighing.

“Your friendship with her is toxic, Y/N. You know that.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You did, every day she made you feel worse about yourself but since you spent the last four years at her side, how could you leave her now?

“I know,” you huffed.

“She forgot your birthday,” he said softly, making your heart flutter a little.

You nearly winced at the memory of this past year. You were turning 18 and she couldn’t be bothered to so much as text you. Even then, you hate to admit it but the following Monday, seeing her so flustered and nervous when your teacher asked how your birthday was? It felt good.

“But you didn’t,” you laughed half-heartedly. Oak had surprised you by coming home with cake and balloons, making you smile so big your cheeks hurt.

You could hear Oak’s smile through the phone, “No, I didn’t. Not that I could ever forget.”

You felt better. He always made things better. Hell, everything he did or said made your life better. You felt a headache starting from all the tears of that night.

“I love you,” you whispered into your phone.

Without missing a beat, Oak immediately responded, “I love you more. Go get some sleep. Text me in the morning.”

You agreed, telling him goodnight before falling asleep, replaying his last sentence in your head.

You woke up the following morning with five texts from him.

from: oaktree

i love you. kill today. she isn’t worth it. walk in with your head held high and kick ass.

i love you

i already said that

oh well

i love you anyways

AnonAsks: I’m hungover right now, and it’s got me thinking, how dose Qrow help Summer when she’s hungover? (Or vice versa)

I’ve mentioned before that Qrow and Summer were both pretty frequent drinkers back in their Beacon days. Well, that doesn’t really change once they graduate. The two of them spend their first year after graduation living in a small apartment in Vale, and that leads to having a lot of access to the Kingdoms night life.

Summer and Qrow both have high tolerances at this point in their lives, but every now and again Summer has the desire to drink the “girly drinks”, or rather, the sugary cocktails. She will pound back a few cosmopolitans, martini’s and daiquiri’s, and then be dead by morning with a pounding headache and sensitive (and empty from expelling her food the previous night) stomach.

Having a lifetime’s worth of experiences with hangovers, Qrow knows that the key is to get a lot of water and sodium-enriched food in your system. His go-to’s are generally soups. Ramen, Miso Soup, Classic Chicken Noodle, and any variety of Pho are in his repertoire of cooking skills.

Summer, like many of us, is done with everyone and everything while hungover. She detests the world at the moment and the only thing keeping her from chasing those noisy birds away is her inability to get out of bed. 

Perfect Stranger

Part 1 of Spotlight

Summary: You’ve just moved across the country but your stuff is stuck in a storm one state over. A neighbor (Dean… obviously) offers to let you stay at his apartment until your stuff shows up. Neighbor!Dean AU

Word Count:2387

Warnings: None

A/N: I was going to just make this a one-part fluffy oneshot, but apparently I’m incapable of writing anything without an angsty backstory and at least one psychotic or sociopathic element. Also, as I was writing this, I came across the song Spotlight by Patrick Stump and it seemed to fit perfectly for the series in that cheesy the moral of this story is kind of way. But yeah, this one-part oneshot accidentally turned into a over-20,000 word story. Sorry about that. One of these days I’ll write a one-part fluffy oneshot. Maybe.

Spotlight by Patrick Stump

Spotlight Series Masterlist

“No, I understand,” you said into your phone, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We can’t exactly control the weather, can we?”

“We’ll have the truck to your place as soon as the roads open. And we’ll even give you thirty percent off the final price for the delay.” The man on the other end of the call really did seem apologetic, though probably just because the situation cut into his profits.

“Thanks. Just… call to let me know when I can expect you guys, I guess.” He promised he would and you ended the call.

“Dammit!” You yelled. The outburst didn’t make you feel as good as you’d expected, so you kicked the tires of your old junker car. Jumping back and holding your toes, you groaned. “Ugh, dammit all.”

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Taking pills and drinking will give you consequences. The scatter of your thoughts, the want of the drug.. the headache in the morning, it’s a naceus way of living
Killing will have consequences. The one you killed is here no longer.. the ones who loved them are ruined, and you have the memory and guilt stuck inside you for time and all eternity.
But the only consequence of love is heartbreak.
When I die, and if I go to hell and I’m asked if loving the person I loved was worth it, even if I was told not to. I will say yes. It was so worth it. Because I did not poison my body, I filled it with warmth, and I did not kill a human, I added to there life.
So no, I do not regret the love I gave, because to me. Love is harmless.
—  abby worthington
Back To School

Summary: A short drabble about you and Sebastian being typical parents on your child’s first day at school. Listen to this while reading!

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 1,020

A/N: This should have been posted yesterday! But I’m procrastination incarnate. I got this idea while watching the news on all the local children going back to school. I really hope you like it. Warning: super fluffy, implied smut. And this is my first fic ever using ‘you’ instead of ‘she’, so cut me some slack if it’s not perfect.

PS: Y/S/N = Your Son’s Name

Originally posted by ghostwritingforyou

“Breakfast is ready!”

The sounds of footsteps running along the hardwood floors could be heard above you. The pitter-patter of your son’s feet, excitedly running through the hallways and down the stairs, before he came to a halt at your side. A giant smile was plastered on his face as he looked up at the plate of chocolate chip pancakes that you were holding above him.

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February 9th, 2015

I can feel my head hurting before I even open my eyes.  My mouth is dry and I’m sore all over.  I look over to my right and the bed is empty.  It feels cold and lonely.  I look to my left and I see a shot glass, some water, and my cell phone.  It slowly started coming into my mind.  Snipits.  Teeny flashes of embarrassment.  How could I have done this?  How could I have allowed myself to get so bad that one night almost ended me.  It all came down to that. That one dreadful February evening.  I don’t know if I was relieved or disappointed that I woke up.  At the time probably the latter. 

I don’t remember much of this day.  It was all a blur.  I looked up mental hospitals.  I had just recently started taking my bipolar meds before this evening.  I was convincing myself they were making me drink.  I thought if I could get away for a little while.  But what about my kids?  I can’t run, I need to face what I’ve done.  I had my mom come over and I went to an aa meeting.  I walked in feeling broken, bruised, and just dead inside.  I didn’t think I had any tears left but sure enough as I’m spilling my guts to a group of strangers they just keep falling.  They were kind.  They listened.  They were welcoming.  I still go back to that meeting.  I anxiously head home.  By now James will have been home from work.  I haven’t seen him.  I come in and I see it in his eyes.  He’s broken.  I’ve done this to him.  I’ve done this to us.  He holds me and we both cry this time. 

The 364 days after

My story does have a happy ending.  I’ve made amends.  I’ve fixed broken bridges.  I’ve got my marriage back.  Happy children.  My self esteem.  My appreciation for life.  For the people who never left my side.  This year wasn’t always easy.  Nothing worth it will be.  I fought.  I carried on.  Pretty soon the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months.  I made it a priority to always celebrate my small victories.  A choice to tell my story to others.  It’s painful to write but it holds me accountable.  If my story can help one person who is struggling then I’ve done my job. 

February 9th, 2016

I wake up this morning. No headache. No feeling of absolute dread. I look to my right and my husband and is happily sleeping next to me. I reach over and rub his back to remind me he is there today. I’m so lucky he’s here with me. At the foot of my bed I feel a little body. My son must have had a bad dream. I loved waking up to him in my bed. This morning I woke up to a bed filled with love. Filled with hope. I went into my boys room and kissed my youngest. Their innocence makes me cry. I hope they don’t remember when I dragged them into my mess. I survived this year. I fought the hardest fight of my life and I won. I’ve cried so many tears this morning. As I go about my day I’ll hold my head a little higher and my smile a little brighter. Miracles happen everyday. I’m convinced of that. It’s because of a miracle I’m here today. Sober. Happy. Content.

The First Night Out (Foxxay).

A/N: Please, give me feedback! That’s what keeps me writing!! Hope you enjoy it!! (I know this prompt is the most cliche thing ever but boy I loved writing it hahaha) xx

It was a late Friday night and the girls were all getting ready for a party; It was going to be the Cajun’s first night out, and she couldn’t be more excited to meet the “Dance Bar” the girls always talked about; The Swamp Witch was giving the final touches at her make up, taking a last glance on the mirror and going downstairs to meet the girls, who were all ready and waiting for her.

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I’ve been down with him since 1985. If the guy was as difficult as people say he is, no one could have stuck it out that long. There’s no amount of money worth that big of a headache. And the reality is, the truth of the matter is, whenever my kids needed something and I couldn’t afford it whatever it was; a medical bill or whatever he was the first one to say ‘Yeah, I got it. And don’t worry about it.’ He is the guy who you call if you make a mistake and need to be bailed out at 4 o'clock in the morning. He makes sure you’re taken care of, and he looks after his better than anyone else I can think of
—  Del James on Axl Rose
No More Running

Fandom: Satan and Me

Ship: Natan

Word Count: 3000

Rating/Content: NSFW for fluffy smut 

Summary: In which Satan’s had a long day, but Natalie has one more request

A/N: Welp, for 200 followers you guys asked for Natan. I hope this lives up to expectations. It’s late and I have a headache from staying up way past my bedtime, but it was worth. Just, sorry if there are some mistakes I missed. Enjoy ^^

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happy mother’s day!

Rated T, No Warnings, Multi

Pairing: KageHinaTsukkiYama – Kageyama Tobio/Hinata Shouyou/Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, YamaKage – Yamaguchi Tadashi/Kageyama Tobio, basically Yamaguchi/everyone, lol.

Summary: As captain of Karasuno Volleyball Club, Yamaguchi had changed a lot since his first year. He finally mastered the float serve. Puberty was gracious to him. He had gotten piercings and tattoos. Most importantly, though, he had picked up a new skill. His maternal instincts. 

[Four times Yamaguchi had helped his team, and one time the team helped him.]

Tags: Third Year!First Years, Timeskip, Captain!Yamaguchi, Mamaguchi, pretty much Yamaguchi-centric

Read on AO3. 

for @emuyh bc i randomly wanted to write another fic based on their hq timeskip!! if you haven’t seen @emuyh-art ‘s timeskip, i definitely recommend it. it’s incredible!

this is basically a collection of the most memorable times yamaguchi was accurately named mamaguchi. it also has the ot4 tsukkiyamakagehina bc honestly my fav, and a side of yamayama bc ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also, author notes at the end!! pls read them!! it might explain stuff


Tsukishima gently rubbed his temple. Hours of watching volleyball footage had given him a headache. It didn’t help that he hadn’t taken a break, either. Even his glasses couldn’t save him from that migraine. It was his own fault.

Stretching, he stood up to take a painkiller and eat a quick snack, then straight back to the videos. If Karasuno wanted to win the next day, Tsukishima needed to analyze each and every team. There was no room for mistakes.

Especially not in their third year.  

“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling dizzy. The glow from the alarm clock told him it was nearing one in the morning. He knew he should go to bed, but he still had another hour’s worth of videos to watch. His vision swam as he made his way into the kitchen, determined to at least eat something. He hadn’t eaten anything, too busy with coming up with a game plan.

Tsukishima decided on a couple of granola bars and a glass of milk. After the granola bars had been downed, his headache subsided just a bit, and the dizziness was gone. He made his way back into his room, ready to watch another video.

A ding! from his phone stopped him.

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pantheon-god-of-war  asked:

Dark Side Of The Moon

Leona had gone through several cups of wine that night by herself. She liked to drink occasionally, though not too often. It was a fun way to relax, though it usually resulted in a terrible headache the following morning. She still thought it was worth it. Leona had drunk a little too much this afternoon but was glad she was by herself so no one could see her in this state. She filled up another cup and took a sip.

What the Signs are made of

Aries: 5 gallons of passion // A pinch of frustration // Eyes of a tiger

Taurus: 3 tablespoons of promises // 2 cups of stubborness // A soul from a maple tree

Gemini: 2 teaspoons of texts from 3 AM // A pint of former crushes // Thoughts from sleepless nights

Cancer: 8 liters of unpredictability // 4 gallons of undisclosed secrets // Phosphorescence of the Moon

Leo: 3 buckets of group chats // 9 cups of perfect smiles // Glitter hearts

Virgo: 4 drops of determination // 1 gallon of predictability // A spirit of satisfaction

Libra: 10 tablespoons worth of truth or dare games // 5 quarts of headaches following a raging party // An hourglass filled with tiny diamonds instead of sand

Scorpio: 69 ounces of secrets // 1 tablespoon of assertiveness // Eyes from a pack of hungry wolves

Sagittarius: 7 pinches of spontaneity // 8 gallons of insensitive blabber // Glass wings from an Angel

Capricorn: 9 cups of structure // 9 cups of equity // Meteorites from distant realms

Aquarius: 70 pints of adventure // 8 teaspoons of inquisitiveness // A unicorn horn

Pisces: 34 tablespoons of predictable love stories // 3 quarts of relatibility // Early mornings wasted worrying about hypothetical situations

Because It’s Not Enough: GOT7 [ rated ]

✩ jaebum x reader x jinyoung feat. other got7 members, JYP and some ocs
 business men!au x mistress!au
warnings: sexual content, mentions of threesome, language, LONG like 10k+ words omg i should have made this into a series or something

You stood in front of your mannequin, examining the beautiful silk red gown hanging snug around the frame. Although as gorgeous as the dress was, there was something missing. Something you couldn’t put your finger on and it was frustrating you to exhaustion.

The rest of the house was quiet as it was well into the night. You had drawn your curtains from the glass doors that led out too you balcony, letting the bright moonlight beam inside. The only artificially light you had on was the spotlight lamp at your desk, pointed at the stunning red gown.

Leaning against your work desk and staring at your mannequin, you crossed your arms and sighed, pondering on what else could be added to this piece to make it perfect.


You reached over, snatching a blade from it’s container and walked over towards the right side of the dress. You knelt down, pressing your fingers against the material and the frame of the mannequin. Eyeing the long red dress from top to bottom a few times, you held the bottom of the silk material before ripping a slit from the upper thigh all the way down to the end.


It was going to be a headache to sew the edges of the new slit, but you knew you could do it and it would be worth it.

“May I should wait ‘til morning to finish…”

A light knock tapped against your bedroom door and you glanced over your shoulder curiously, wondering if any of the other girls in the house were still awake.

“Come in,” you answered, standing up from the ground to put away your blade.

“Someone’s up late,” a low, familiar voice spoke into your quiet room.

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Forgettable Vows by twin-v

Hermione gasped, recognizing the voice. “You!" After a quick glance in the mirror, she flung open the door so violently that he took a step back, squinting at her. "Malfoy!”

Draco stared at her in horror. “Granger?”

“This can’t be- I can’t have-” Hermione stammered, unable to think clearly. With supreme effort, she pulled herself together. “I have to talk to Ginny. I can’t be married to you!" 

Universe: Potterverse

Pairing/s: Dramione | Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger

Rating: T  ( nothing graphic :) )

Setting: Post Deathly Hallows, EWE (disregards epilogue entirely)

Summary: ❝ Draco and Hermione wake up together in bed one morning with headaches, no clothes, and horror when they see each other. But it seems there is so much more to it than inebriation… four years’ worth of wedded bliss, in fact.❞ 

Chapter/s: 14

Word Count: 43, 205

Status: Completed 

Comments: This plot is quite unique (in my opinion) and the writing is really good. I believe someone reposted this story on Wattpad though :/ I’m not sure if they were given permission or not, but they did say it was a repost. And off topic, the authors are twins and they both ship Dramione and I just find that really cool. XD

Home is where you are (mini series part 4)

A/N: Octavia and the reader visit the dropship after the war with the Mountain Men and remind ach other that they do still have a home.
Characters: Octavia Blake
Pairings: Octavia x reader

Words: 1229
Spoiler(s): Season 2 finale mentions
Warning(s): Maybe swearing
Prompt: Being unable to open their eyes for a few moments afterwards

Octavia was lost. Her world, for a moment so bright and secure, had collapsed around her. A future full of safety and love and acceptance had vanished in a single choice, leaving her alone and vulnerable in front of an impregnable mountain.
That choice still haunted her. She would never have left Bellamy, never, but the wondering never stopped. Could she have been happy with Indra? Was saving 44 space delinquents really worth losing the closest thing to a home she’d ever had?

The sweetest sound, light as birdsong and clear as water rang through the crisp morning air. You were singing and it made Octavia smile. It had taken you weeks to be able to sing again, and even now, it wasn’t the same cheerful melodies you’d sung when the dropship had first landed. It wasn’t the same hopeful songs that had given Octavia headaches in the skybox. She remembered holding you as you sobbed on your first day outside of Mount Weather, she remembered how broken you’d sounded. It was the sound of someone without hope.

“It’s gone, Octavia.” She could still hear you moaning, “The music is gone.”

That was what the music was, she’d realized, the music was your hope. It was their hope. Only after your tears had dried, had Octavia realized her own face was wet. It was odd to think, when they’d first landed, Octavia didn’t even like you, she’d found you annoying and overly cheerful in a world where cheerfulness was synonymous with naïve and she hadn’t been shy about letting you know.

She’d been as shocked as anyone when you’d told her you were terrified, when she realized that she needed you to be okay, she needed you to be happy and cheerful and annoying. The ground had seemed like a dark and miserable place, the air stagnant and cold without your songs.
The mountain men had taken everything from her, from both of you. Your happiness now felt like a rebellion, it felt like every day you lived, you lived harder and stronger and more openly, as though your very existence was made better by the fact you’d fought for it. Your voice was haunted; your songs echoing and sad, but, to Octavia, they seemed all the lovelier.

Was it worth it? Was losing her place among the Trikru worth hearing you sing again? Yes. Oh God yes.

“Hey O,” you called, ending your song, “are you okay?”

It had been your idea to visit the dropship again. Camp Jaha was great, but you hadn’t built it with your own two hands, you hadn’t fought off a grounder army, or sang around the fire until the early morning there. Your dead weren’t buried outside Camp Jaha’s walls.

Octavia nodded, “Did you say hi to Mbege for me?”

You gave her a sad smile as you sat down next to her on the dropship’s door, “He says you should tell him yourself.” You said with a sigh, wincing slightly as you sat.

“You know why I can’t.” she responded, eyes trained firmly on the ground.

You rested your hand on her shoulder, “None of this was your fault O, you know that.”

“He died while searching for me.”

“You’d been kidnapped! How is that your fault?”

“I’d been sneaking out.” She countered.

“So what?” you responded, “We were just kids O, stupid kids who weren’t ready to face what was out there.”

Octavia gave you a sly grin, a shadow of her former smirk, the one that always made your stomach lurch.

“You say that like we aren’t still kids.”

You shrugged, your thoughts spiralling down into the darkness once again, “Do you feel like a kid? Because I don’t.” you looked around your old camp, letting the memories pour over you again, “We’ve killed people O, we’ve fought in wars. We built this place out of an old drop ship that was supposed to be carrying us to our deaths.” You looked over at your best friend, who was smiling sadly at you, her dark eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, “We’re a lot of things,” you said, “but we sure as hell aren’t kids.”

Octavia was in awe. Her eyes clung to you as you searched the camp with your eyes; you were desperate for something, something that she wasn’t sure anyone could give you. Answers. It was what she’d been searching for too.

“Why did we come here Y/N?” she asked, already half sure of the answer.

You shrugged, hot tears threatening to pour from your eyes, “I guess I thought that it would feel-I dunno, I thought it would feel like it did before the Mountain.” You took a deep breath, trying to hold on to your composure. You felt so fragile, like a glass statue held together by the fact the wind hadn’t blown too hard yet, “I thought it would feel like home.”

Determination filled Octavia from head-to-toe; you were strong, so wonderfully brave and strong. She had to make you see that. She had to find a way to show you that you weren’t alone; she would never leave you alone.

“Y/N look at me. You are home, so long as I have you, and you have me, we’re home okay?” she told you, “When I found out you were in that mountain,” she shook her head, “it-it was like I couldn’t breathe.” She looked you firmly in the eye again, her hands gripping yours so tightly that it almost hurt, “I am never going to lose you that way again, ever.”

You could feel yourself losing the battle with your tears, even as Octavia’s hold on you grew stronger and stronger. It was like you were connected to her, you felt her strength flow into your veins, and her care for you filled your body, making you ache with love for the fierce girl sitting beside you.

“What’re you saying Octavia?”

Octavia sighed quietly, even her name sounded like a song when you said it. She was convinced that words didn’t fall from your mouth like they did with other people, they soared. You made even the most ordinary things extraordinary. You were still broken, the both of you were, but you would heal together. You would heal each other.
This was the moment, you both felt it.
Octavia cupped your face with her hands and pulled your lips together. It was like fire meeting water, the sky brushing the ground and the moon colliding with the sun in an explosion of sparks.

Your lips felt like salvation to Octavia, like a reason, something that was worth all the pain and heartache and the bloodshed.
To you, the kiss felt like those first breaths of oxygen when you’d left the dropship, like Clarke’s need to control things and that embrace after your escape from Mount Weather, the kiss felt like home.

When Octavia pulled away, you kept your eyes pressed firmly together convinced that if you opened them, you’d break whatever spell the dropship had placed on you.

“Y/N, look at me.” Octavia said again, brushing your hair away from your face lovingly. You opened your eyes slowly, and were met with the sight of Octavia, smiling gently at you. You sighed and rested your hand on hers, “What I’m saying is,” she continued, “let’s be each other’s homes.”