drunk on fumes

These hilarious Naruto-edited Chinese propaganda posters are a little different than the usual fanart I translate, so I thought I’d upload them as is and give the translation beneath, to preserve the effect.

Traditionally, these kind of posters would be up in schools, workplaces etc and have patriotic, motivational slogans, with this characteristic Soviet-esque realistic art. In the upper right of this one you can see an actual typical motivational phrase: “Study well, and ascend daily”.

This phrase appears to be Rin addressing Obito, because it says “Study conscientiously, study until you forget me.”

“Drunk off the fumes of studying” (the book says “Konoha Ninja Complete Guide”)

“How dare you disturb my learning!”

“I will lead the way for studying” (the paper he’s destroying says “Konoha’s spiritual culture”, an old Communist slogan… not about Konoha though… at least I think so…)

“Study while you work” (in Tobirama’s case, he’s reading “Uchiha Research Report”)

I was given permission to repost, the artist source is anonymous.

Connections: Part 2

sorcha500 said:  Oh wow!!! Wish there’s a part 2??? 😊 – well, there just might be ;) 


Part One HERE.


“Do ye…have protection?” Jamie gasped, his knees hitting the back of the bed as he flopped onto the soft, supple mattress.

Claire ignore the soft throb that pulsed through her chest at the thought and shook her head, “we don’t need it, don’t worry.”

“A-alright,” he stammered, his eyes flitting over every inch of her as she began to untie the waistband knot of her flannel shirt. “I don’t usually—“ he started, her eyes silencing him as she let the faux-tartan patterned shirt fall to the floor with a dull thud.

“Me either, but that doesn’t matter, does it?”

“No.”

“Do you want me?”

What a question, Jamie thought as she rested her hand over the partially undone metal of his flies. She was beautiful, her long curls floating around her face as she hovered over him, a halo of light beaming around the crown of her head small shards of the gentle yellow beam peaking through the breaks in her hair as she swayed above him.

She was waiting (patiently) for him to give her the okay before stripping him. Inhaling deeply, Jamie tried to banish the niggling doubt that said something was amiss. Instead he focused on the fact that he wanted her —really quite badly. And it looked as if she wanted him too. Something akin to *need* seemed to hover beneath the surface of her skin, the electricity of it flowing through her fingers and into his veins.

Claire Beauchamp was nothing if not intoxicating. And he was drunk on the fumes of her.

“Aye, Claire,” he said, finally, the breathlessness of his voice rocketing through Claire from head to toe as she pushed the small buttons through their holes, exposing his underwear as she carefully undid his trousers.

Finally bare, the pair stared at one another, an unfamiliar strangeness encasing them for just a moment. They’d met only a few hours prior, but already Claire could feel a buzz that made her slightly uncomfortable. She sat aside his hips, this skin of his legs warming her to the core. He was like a human radiator, all hard lines and heat. The short, sharp hairs that lay in sleek sheets along his thighs tickled the insides of her legs as she shifted herself higher. His hands rested gently against her hips. He was large, but not intimidating — all of him. It was his hands that swayed it. The careful way that each fingertip caressed her flesh, bringing alight sensations she hadn’t felt for years. She was alive. The flame lit beneath her skin as he waited for her to make her move.

Leaning forwards, Claire bent to kiss him. Seeing his mouth open as his head tilted up to meet her, she could she see the moist slip of his tongue. Glancing at Jamie through half closed eyelids she could almost feel an odd camaraderie.

Maybe that is what love would feel like?

The moment the ‘L’ word appeared in her mind, Claire banished it. She’d been there once before and it had very nearly broken her. She’d been young and naive, foolish to believe his lies. In the years since she’d accepted her single status - and one good looking man wasn’t going to break the vow she’d made to herself.

“Just a little fun, right?” She whispered into his mouth as she nipped his lower lip. Her teeth made small indentations in his skin and she marvelled as they plumped once more.

Jamie neglected to answer, his heart picking up pace at the intonation of Claire’s voice. He’d never been the sort to be frivolous with his affections, but if she needed to mask their brief courtship as ‘fun’, then he was willing to allow it. But Jamie wasn’t sold on it. He felt what Claire felt but was unable to truly understand. Unmarred by previous affectionate exchanges, Jamie wasn’t burdened with the same emotional turmoil as Claire.

He’d known about Frank. Geillis had, of course, spoken of her friend. Frank had been older than Claire. They had met through her uncle before he’d died - and had been a close knit friend of the family. Her uncle had worked closely with Frank and so the growing relationship quickly developed by the pair, urged on by Claire’s uncle (albeit quietly). Geillis knew Claire wished, unconsciously, for a father figure. And at a time when she’d needed that stability, Frank had reacted by his gentlemanly acquiescence of that role.

Soon though, Frank had wanted children. When *Claire* had been unable to provide them for him he had conveniently found someone who could. Jamie rolled his eyes at the thought, who blames their partner? Well, ‘partner’ in the loosest term, he quipped in his own head, if you’re going to lay *all* of the blame at only one person’s door when things start to fall apart.

He’d heard all this and more on Geillis’s bi-annual trips to balance his books. Jamie had felt a certain kinship with Claire through these stories before she’d even stepped foot into his life properly. But he wouldn’t divulge that for now.

Claire, unaware of Jamie’s internal ramblings, was enjoying the subtle tang of whisky on his tongue as they massaged one another through blissful kisses. Jamie had a good, solid grip on her arse, holding it carefully above him as they learned the curve of one another’s mouths.

Shifting his hips, Jamie tried to progress, moving so that he could manoeuvre himself over Claire, but in one swift motion she had his hands pinned above his head; his pectoral muscles stretched deliciously beneath her; his biceps lying flat against her floral sheets. “No, Jamie,” she moaned, sliding herself level with him, every inch of her lying flat over him from chest to ankles, “I’m on top -always.”

“Y-yes…” Jamie mumbled in return, unwilling to argue with her in their current state. He felt high, as if all the oxygen in the world wouldn’t be enough to sustain him. But still he kept breathing, the powerful vibration of their chests moving almost in time with one another causing his skin to ripple with goosebumps.

She took him inside her then, one quick movement that saw him thrusting his head backwards in time with his hips moving upwards. She was hot. Almost unnaturally so. And wet. Jamie felt the moisture of her coat him as her muscles held him prisoner in the most delightful way.

Claire watched through blurred vision, her mouth hanging open as she panted out uneven breaths. Jamie was glorious - in the way that men who work outside with manual equipment often were. He was well toned, but that was down to the lifting and heavy work he did on a daily basis. She kept an even eye on every twitch, every smooth slide of muscle beneath skin as he writhed beneath her.

She could hardly breathe herself, and viewing him as he struggled made her ache for him all the more.

Geillis had been right, she blearily acknowledged silently as Jamie shimmied his hands out from below hers and flipped her straight onto her back.

Claire hated feeling powerless, and the moment her spine hit the heated top sheets, she fought the urge to squirm away. Her mind was at war with her. The pleasure of Jamie surrounding her was lulling her heart into a false sense of security, but her brain rebelled forcefully against being at Jamie’s mercy in this way.

“Claire,” Jamie whispered, sensing her internal battle. Her limbs had seized in the move and he’d instantly regretted putting her in such a situation. His whole body had simply reacted without thinking but now, hovering over her as he was, he could bring her back to him - of that he was certain. “Claire, look at me lass…please.”

Pealing her eyes open, Claire gazed up at him, her heart racing with equal parts terror and lust. Jamie moved slowly now, an increased caution that brought her pulse back down to a more normal level and quashed her fear of drowning. “I said I was on top,” she replied, more a statement of fact than an argument of their new positions.

Jamie sighed, his hips quivering as they began to pick up pace once more. “A-aye,” he returned, “yer still on top, Claire…fuck…” he swore, the powerful swell of want expanding inside of him as she crushed her thighs around his hips and ‘encouraged’ him to move fully inside her. “See,” he said, with no hesitation now. “I feel you, Claire.”

Claire nodded, her helplessness decreasing with each tight thrust of Jamie’s hips as he fought to continue moving against her in their current situation.

Her world was spinning as she felt his pelvis grind against hers. It was like nothing else and stars sprung up behind her eyes. “Kiss me…” she blurted out, her voice sounding strangled and strange even to her ears, “please, fuck…kiss me now!”

Obeying, Jamie redistributed his weight onto his elbows as he let himself lower softly over her subtle curves. The press of her breasts against him set his flesh alight and his mouth immediately found hers to stop himself from saying something improper in the moment. She was beyond beautiful now, and he’d thought her captivating before - but in the dim glow of the bedroom light with her hair fanned around her face and the palest hint of pink glowing against her cheeks she looked almost otherworldly. He could have lain like this forever with her, cataloguing each freckle, each delicate line that formed her body, each blue vein that ran just beneath the surface of her pearly white skin. But his cock was singing off a different hymn sheet.

He shouldn’t have sullied divination with a ‘one-night stand’, he knew, but the comparison of heaven and being inside Claire like this were surely one and the same. If not, he hoped the afterlife yielded something incredibly similar or else he’d be very disappointed.

“F-fuck…Jesus, fuck…” Claire cursed, pulling Jamie from his thoughts of God and heaven back to Claire herself. The slight pink had increased, spreading across her face now in an ocean of deep red as her nails dug painfully into his sides. She convulsed, her mouth falling open and her lips flushing red as her thighs increased their pressure around him.

Claire couldn’t think. Her mind emptied as the waves of pleasure captured her and dragged her under. She hadn’t had sex since…

…and even then it had been perfunctory. The actions necessary to create new life and not an act of pleasure for either. This was immensely different. This was passion like nothing she’d experienced before. This wasn’t about power or possession. Frank had always *loved* Claire, but he always wanted to own her. His behaviour towards her was always one of control. Jamie gave freely, expecting nothing in return, only wanted to lay himself at her feet. As the haze faded and her breathing evened out, Claire rolled her spine, her legs flopping bonelessly against the bed as she tried to ascertain whether Jamie had…

He hadn’t.

She could tell instantly. The tense set of his jaw and the fiery lust that glimmered in his eyes told her all she needed to do. He was patiently waiting for her to be conscious again, his thoughts only on ensuring her utter emotional comfort in his presence.

“Jamie…” she whispered, her palm coming to rest carefully against his cheek as she ran her fingers of his almost smooth face, “come…don’t hold back,” Claire coaxed, her tongue peeking out to wet her dry lips in a move that had Jamie squirming above her. “Oh, fuck, Jamie…please,” she gasped, feeling one strong movement of him against her sensitive flesh.

“Ah…Dhia!” He moaned, his Gaelic overriding English in the heat of the moment. Dropping his forehead to rest against hers he allowed his body to take control of his actions. His hips thrust erratically, the sweat of exertion coating him head to toe as in a few short, sharp motions he came his chest throbbing with the force of it.

Lying together in the aftermath, Claire stroked the damp curls on Jamie’s forehead as he nuzzled against her neck. The tickle of his breath against the thin skin there made her smile. It sent little shockwaves through her, but she was enjoying his close contact too much to move him. She could still feel the after-effects of their passionate evening between her thighs as the moisture gathered there. Something about the warmth of it soothed her. She hadn’t known closeness in such a long time and having Jamie’s body molded to hers whilst the essence of him lined the tops of her legs made her heart throb with want.

Shaking off the thought, she pulled the duvet tighter around them and let sleep pull her under.

Morning wasn’t as awkward as Claire envisioned it would be. She left her bed before Jamie woke and began getting some breakfast ready for the both of them.

Jamie followed only moments later, appearing with only his boxer shorts on, his hair flicking up all over the place. He looked well rested, sleep still forming in his eyes as he rubbed them and yawned.

“Morning, sassenach,” he said on arrival in the kitchen, a crack echoing around the small space as he stretched his spine and pulled a chair up to the breakfast bar.

“Good morning, Jamie,” she replied, placing a steaming hot bowl of porridge in front of him with a large cup of coffee. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Ach,” he replied with a distinctly Scottish clearing of his throat, “I have to go and view some cattle just outside of the city. I’m looking to expand the farm.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyebrows raising, “that sounds interesting. What do you look for in a good heifer then?” She joked, winking as she sipped at her own cup of coffee.

“Good strong rump!” Jamie retorted, a twinkle in his eye as he replied. “And spirit. Every lassie needs a wee sprinkle of sass, aye?”

“Aye, indeed.” Claire chuckled, the sensation shocking her a little.

Jamie saw the shadow beneath Claire’s eyes reignite at the sound of her own laughter and he smiled sadly in recognition. Finishing up his breakfast, he tapped his bare foot against the metal legs of the chair. “I should go,” he said meaning the complete opposite.

“Yes,” Claire replied thinking that she didn’t want him to go. Something about him that spoke to her on a completely unconscious level. He was like sunshine, covering her in warmth, increasing the level of vitamin D in her veins. But she couldn’t let her baser needs dictate her actions.

It had been one night. As she’d told him before they’d done it. Just one night of fun, nothing more.

Even as she thought it, nodding with a small, coy smile plastered across her face, she knew she was lying. She’d been lying when she’d said it out loud to him only hours before. The question that he’d asked her before they’d found themselves in flagrante came to mind as she watched him depart the kitchen to get himself dressed.

She was lonely, he was right. Lonely and so very fucking tired.

True to her word, she didn’t see Jamie again. Much to Geillis’ distaste.

“Claire, he asks about ye all the time. Let me gi’ you his number…call him? Please?” She’d begged over tea one day, her bright green eyes imploring Claire to accept her offer.

“Isn’t it wrong of you to give out the number of your clients, Geillis?” Claire had lightly castigated, trying to change the tenor of the conversation away from her very dubious love life.

“Aye, but only if he doesna want you to have it. And he does.”

“Has he said as much, or are you just assuming?”

“Me?!” Geillis replied, faux-scandalised by Claire’s suggestion, “assuming, Claire? Never.”

“So that’s a yes then.” Claire scoffed, scalding herself on her hot tea as she tried to sip it. The mention of Jamie now came with added tension, something that she didn’t want to open up to her friend just yet as she surreptitiously rubbed her womb, her fingers metaphorically crossed with each passing day.

“Claire, at least let me gi’ him your number?”

“No.” Claire bit back quickly, the sudden remembrance of her late period causing her to be sharper than needed with her friend. “No,” she repeated in a softer tone, “I’m not ready, Geillis. Not yet.”

“How long into it will ye wait, Claire?” Geillis said, a glint in her eye as she nudged Claire’s foot beneath the table.

“You know?” She whispered in return, her world spinning.

“I ken you, Claire…that and ye keep holding onto yer abdomen like your worried it might abscond without permission.”

Claire gawped, her mouth falling open and closing again like a fish out of water as her friend pushed her fringe from her face and tilted her head. “It’s too soon, Gellie. To know for sure…and I don’t want to…think it. Not now, not until I *know*.”

Geillis smiled sadly, her memory of Claire’s utter desolation through the later half of her relationship with Frank still raw even to her. “…and if ye are, then will you talk to him?”

“Yes, of course.” Claire said, nodding along as she nursed her cooling drink. “He has a right to know.”

It only took two more days for her world to be shattered once more.

Sitting on the cold plastic of her office en-suite, Claire rocked back and forth, her belly convulsing with pain as she tried desperately to control her sobbing.

“Dr!” A loud call came from beyond the loo.

Pulling herself together, Claire scrubbed the shed tears from her cheeks as she cleaned up - placing the disregarded tampon wrapper in the correct bin as she steeled herself to go back to work. Whatever the cost, she still had a job to do.

“Come in,” she called, sitting at her desk and rearranging the photograph she had of her uncle Lamb sitting aside her laptop.

“Dr Beauchamp,” the intern said with some trepidation, he could tell already that she’d been crying but her obvious attempts to cover it up made the young doctor bury the urge to ask if she was alright. She probably wasn’t. “There’s a call for you through at reception, can you come and take it?”

Sighing, she pushed the chair away and forced herself up.

Taking hold of the ancient receiver she swallowed back her grief. “Hello, Dr Claire Beauchamp here, how can I help?”

“Claire,” came the crackled response. Jamie. “I had t’ phone ye. I hope you don’t mind. Geillis said-“

Immediately Claire knew why he was calling. Geillis could *never* keep her mouth shut. Gulping back the large lump that had suddenly appeared -as if trying to choke her- she prepared herself for the words she knew he was about to say - and the response she had to give in return.

“Weel, she said you might be *pregnant*?”

She could hear the worry in his voice as he said the word and she didn’t leave him hanging for long.

“I’m not. Not as of today, so you don’t need to panic, Jamie. I’m not.”

Slamming the phone down without waiting to hear his reply, Claire shook her curls and rolled her shoulders. Ignoring the bustling reception of the A&E department around her, she turned and walked slowly back to her office without acknowledging anyone. Just wanting to return to the relative safety of her office, she sloped back.

“L.J.!” Joe called out, seeing Claire’s discrete distress as she tried so hard to conceal her brimming tears.

Dr Joe Abernathy had trained with Claire, and was the person one who knew absolutely everything. He hadn’t quite heard all of the one-sided conversation, but he’d heard enough to hazard a guess. Him and Geillis had differing ideas on how to keep Claire afloat and upon hearing the end of her sentence, he cursed the woman for interfering so.

Claire studiously ignored Joe, knowing full well that if she allowed him to talk to her that she would lose it completely and break down in the middle of the busy hospital aisles. She just had to make it back to the office.

“Claire,” Joe called again, following her into the small room and closing the door behind him as he watched her crawl back into her swivel chair,  pulling her knees up to her chest, cocooning her arms neatly around them as she rested her head against her knees. “Shit, L.J. I think you need to go home. Cry off sick, I’ll cover for you. Jesus.” He said, his thick Bostonian drawl a welcome break from the Scots burr that reminded her too much of Jamie for the moment.

“I can’t go home, Joe.” She said matter of factly. “I’ll be fine, just let me get on with this mountain of paperwork, and I’ll be—“

“Don’t dare say ‘fine’, L.J.” He warned, a slight tilt of his head as his eyes narrowed at her. “I knew that whole blind date shit was going to be a disaster.”

“It wasn’t,” Claire replied, not wishing Joe to get into another discussion with her about Geillis’ meddling. “Trust me, it wasn’t. Not at first…”

“Chuff!” Joe retorted. “Fuck. Claire. Pregnant? Is that what that guy said down the phone to you?”

“How rude, Joe,” Claire said, with no weight to her words as she looked sorrowfully up at him. She didn’t have the strength to mean it. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

“When it comes to you, L.J., nothing is off limits. If I didn’t, you’d never tell me anything.” He countered, a soft look aimed at her as he spoke.

Claire’s chin quivered, the gentle throb of period pain bringing back her huge sense of loss as she tried to hold it together for just a minute longer. “Fuck, Joe…” she sobbed, the first tears falling as he chest heaved with the weight of her grief, “what am I going to do?”

Launching himself forwards, Joe caught Claire just as she flopped forwards. Gathering her up in his arms he held her softly against his chest and rocked her soothingly. “For a start, Claire Beauchamp,” he whispered, placing a delicate kiss against her forehead, “you are going to go home and take care of yourself. Don’t worry,” he continued as he felt her drag in a breath, preparing to disagree with him no doubt, “I’ll get you home. Nobody will know a thing.”

“Thank you, Joe,” Claire said, the fight falling from her lips as she look up at him, her eyes sparkling with a mass of unshed tears. “Thank you.”

Curled up under her duvet with the television softly playing in the background, Claire finally let herself fully crumble. Her chest ached and her throat stung, raw from the sheer amount of tears she’d shed since crawling into bed only hours before.

She’d wanted to make Jamie believe that she was relieved. She fucking hoped she’d achieved it. If he thought her unfeeling, perhaps he’d move on and accept her decision.

“I can’t,” she whispered as her subconscious castigated her foolishness, taunting her with ideas of a blossoming relationship with Jamie instead of just the one night stand she’d convinced herself she’d needed. “Not again, I just can’t…”

Burying her face in her pillow, she wiped the detritus of her sorrow onto the soft casing. Pulling the sides up around her ears, she clung to the fabric with all her might and let out an almighty scream. The hate poured out of her and into the fluffy duck down as she clenched her fingers tight.

“I fucking hate you!” She yelled at herself, loathing coating her skin like ash and death. “I *really* fucking hate you…”

- – -

Spin - Jason Todd x Reader

After an untimely but rather expected case of writer’s block, I have now returned. This is requedted by a lovely anon. I had so much fun with this one guys! Thank you so much for pushing me to do what I think I do best :3

WARNINGS: NO SMUT BUT LOTS OF FLUFF!!!
WORDS: 1674

“Dick.” He grunted into the earpiece, sounding more like he was crying an insult more than saying an actual name, “Could you be more specific?”

“The guy probably has a hoodie on, or something that covers his face. And he looks a lot older than everyone in that room.”

“That makes the two of us,” Jason rolled his eyes. It was stupid to think he could still pull of as a high school student, let alone blend in with a bunch of toddlers running around with alcohol glued to their hands. “Tell me again why I’m doing this and not Tim?”

“He’s underage.”

“Everyone in the whole fucking block hasn’t grown into their big boy pants!”

“Jason, they’re seniors. They’re what, two? Three years younger than you?

“Four. I’m good if this was in college, but high school? No, I’m going back. Tim will take this.”

A girl screaming with her shirt gone from her body bumped into Jason and spilled her drink. She then proceeded to scream something along the lines of ‘Fuck you!’ Or was it ‘I want to fuck you!’?

“No he won’t. Besides he’s off to do something else with Bruce. You’ll do fine.”

The voices around him got even louder. Things of much value were being thrown around like a football and the floor was soaking wet with spilled drinks. There were so many people around he wasn’t surprised nobody came up to him yet and asked which school he went to.

“Jason,” he heard his earpiece. “This isn’t just any drug dealer selling to kids. He’s selling a new type of drug, one these kids don’t even know. And from the sample we took from his last victim, it’s so dangerous that it could instantly kill them after an hour of being higher than the clouds.”

“And from the looks of it, I might need one right now.”

Jason heard a loud grunt, to which formed a grin on his face, “Look just, find the guy, knock him out, and you can get the hell out of there.”

“Fine. But if they ask what a chaperone is doing here, I’m saying my name is Dick Grayson and that I got held back twice in senior year.”

“Asshole.”

He heard a loud scream, coming from the girl who bumped into him a while ago, then came a herd of even more people looking for some fun. He had to hurry, he thought, before this guy kills a house of sexually frustrated teenagers.

He scrambled through the drunk crowd, farther into the least chaotic part of the house where kids were making out and in the verge of getting laid for what he assumed would be the first time for some of them.

God, he needed to get out.

Then he saw him, a dark man hiding under a blue hoodie in the corner of the backyard. Jason could see two guys, presumably football athletes walk up to him to get some of his home made goodness. As the guys walked away from the dealer, he went up to them.

“Hey, your girl just went into one of the bedrooms with a guy named Dick. You should check that out.”

“What?!” he screamed, almost deafening the undercover Red Hood. “Where are they!?”

“Upstairs,” he smiled. Jason then patted his back before the guy ran back into the house.

He smirked, holding the small plastic packet in his hand. “Dick, wait for me outside.” He said into the earpiece. He stuffed it into his pocket and slowly walked towards the dealer.

“How much do you want?”

“About a gallon of your blood and your ass back in GCPD.”

Suddenly, Jason grabbed both his arms and swiftly twisted them all the way to his back. The man, struggled, but was far too weak against Jason’s strength.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re not really my type, but I’m flattered.”

Almost flawlessly, save for a few attempts of escaping, he managed to drag him all the way to the front of the house where Dick’s car was parked in the other sidewalk.

He knocked on the driver’s seat window after he stuffed him in the backseat. The window rolled down, revealing Dick with a sly grin on his face. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Jason rolled his eyes, “Charming.” He turned his head in the direction of the crowd not far from him.

“If you’re gonna ride with me back home we have to stop by GCPD to drop him off. Or we could- Jay, what are you staring at?”

He shook his head and diverted his attention back from staring at one of the girls in the crowd. They were playing spin the bottle, and she was just sitting there, smiling.

“Nah. You can go. I’ll go home on my own.”

“Are you sure? It’s 5 miles back to your apartment and you don’t have your bike.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Before Dick could say anything, Jason had gone back into the house. He shrugged and turned the engine on.

“You’d stay too if you found a girl like that.” Said the dealer restrained at the back.

“Shut up.”

 

He had no idea how the fuck he let himself be pulled by a bunch of teenagers into a game of spin the bottle with 6 other people. Three of which are girls, and one of them, he now remembered, was the reason why he deliberately let Dick drive off and leave him in this infernal hell hole five miles away from home.

You were much prettier up close. Your cheeks were glowing red, and you haven’t drunk that much yet, and your lips were so delicate he just wanted to press them against his own.

He wasn’t leaving without at least knowing your name.

He failed to notice she had already spun the bottle until-

Until it landed on him.

And fuck, he’s never been so nervous in his life. He’s taken out bad guys, not the kind of bad guys in movies. He’s put himself in arm’s length from death numerous times in his life. He almost fell off a building. He got shot in the stomach. He fucking died and came back to life for Christ’s sake. So why is he fucking sweating out of his skin when a young girl like you was just about to kiss for you’re a split second?

Of course, it could be because a young girl like you was about to kiss him.

He should’ve gotten drunk. Even smelling the fumes in this house was enough to make his muscles less tense.

“Here goes nothing,” he heard you say. You scooted over beside him. “Ready?”

“Sure,” he muttered, not knowing the amount of sweat pooling around his face. This is gonna be awkward.

Your lips pressed into his, gently at first that it wouldn’t be so significant, but then, you failed to notice you took more time than what was required in a harmless game of spin the bottle. You took the time to inhale his manly, musky scent that sent your heart pounding. His lips were soft, yet firm at the same time, and the way he lightly moved around in rhythm with you just felt so perfect, not awkward at all.

He took the time to take you in as well. He noticed a faint scent from what he could make out as perfume coming off you, which made it so much better, since he hated strong cologne. He also couldn’t help but run a sneaky hand through your hair he’d been eyeing since he first saw you. And your lips, they were so soft and delicate, like you could break apart if he kisses you too hard.

“Ehem,” you heard a drunk girl call out, “We’re waiting for our turn too ya know.”

You broke apart, both with cheeks flushed red and your lips feeling numb.

“You’re obviously not from here,” you broke the silence that followed after. “Are you in college?”

“Sure,” he mumbled, “You can say that.”

“What are you doing in a high school party?”

“Uhhh my mom asked my brother to tag me along?”

You were skeptical, “Right.”

“I’m outta here,” you said. “Come on. There are better things to do than kissing strangers.”

“Really, cuz there are better things than us kissing?” he winked.

You rolled your eyes and felt your cheeks flush pink again. You grabbed his hand, “Yes, there are. Such as not having other people have to watch and wait for their turn.”

He bit his lip and tightened his hand around yours, “Let’s go this way.”

You raised a brow and let him drag you all the way behind the house, between the fence that already led to the neighbor’s place.

You giggled as he pulled you into his arms and crashed his lips back onto yours, harder and more intense than just minutes ago. His lips were all over you, devouring you as you felt your stomach clench with excitement. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, feeling his hands slither down your back.

His tongue was just as perfect, roaming around and exploring your mouth right after you granted him entrance. You bit his lip and smiled, pulling him back for another kiss that lasted for what seemed like an hour until you heard police sirens coming from outside the house.

“Shit,” you pulled away. “I gotta go.”

“What?” he asked, still in a daze and looking at your beautiful face.

“I’ll see you,” you pecked his lips.

“Wait, give me your phone,” you smiled as you did just that, heart pounding ecstatically. He put his number on your phone and kissed you one more time. “Name’s Jason by the way.”

“(Name),” you smiled. He took off before you climbed up the fence and escaped to the neighbor’s lawn. You reached the sidewalk and took out your phone.

You scanned your contacts, but there was no Jason. Instead, it read ‘The best damn kiss you’re ever gonna have.”

feuer-fight  asked:

“Don’t you dare die on me!” Rita and Juno

psych! no angst allowed here, only rita and juno having fun and bonding. 

it’s gonna be alright

“Don’t you dare die on me!”

“Rita, he’s definitely going to die, he just got shot seven times in the head.”

“You never know, Mister Steel, you never know!” Rita was on the edge of her seat, elbowing Juno in the side every time she bounced up and down in excitement.

So maybe Juno had had a really long day and maybe he had taken up Rita on her offer to come home with her and watch shitty Martian soaps and do their nails and eat cheap takeout. And maybe he was even enjoying it. It’s not like he needed to admit it or anything.

“My darling, my Mars Bar of delight, how could you die and leave me all alone, a lonely homesteader widow in this great desert.”

Mrs. Almelialily Jonesmithton stands up from her husband’s still body, and there is a shot of her face staring out the anachronistic shielded glass windows. It reveals a single perfect tear sliding down her face, not disturbing her perfect eyeliner or fake eyelashes.

“I fear I shall live the rest of my life in solitude… Unless…”

Rita was tearing up, trying to wipe her eyes without smudging her nail polish. Life’s A Beach, a teal color that Juno had picked out for her. It went with a coat she really liked to wear to work, and fine okay maybe Juno noticed stuff like that every now and then. It was his job to notice things.

“Boss,” she said through sniffles, “how are you not affected, by, by any of this? Do you have no heart!” Rita threw herself sideways across him and stared up with big Disney eyes. “Nothing?”

He nodded, doing his best impression of a straight face. Heh. Straight. Him. “Nothing, Rita. I’ve got Hyperion’s coldest soul.”

She shook his head. “Mister Steel, how on Mars have you made it this far without letting yourself cry at sad streams?”

Juno raised his eyebrows. “Like this?”

Onscreen, the door to the Jonesmithton household is slammed open and a woman with a shirt strategically ripped to reveal at least twelve rippling abs runs inside.

She’s apparently the dead guy’s sister, here to claim the heroine as her wife.

Rita nodded emphatically. “Like this! See, I’ve been following the Jonesmithtons for AGES, Mister Steel, AGES, and this scene!” She jabs at the holoscreen with one teal-painted finger. “This scene! Is the culmination of seasons worth of tension - both negative in Almelialily’s and Joeadam’s marriage AND sexual tension between Almelialily and Jennysarapril!”

“Wait, Jennysara?”

“Abs.”

“Oh, I see.”

Rita giggled. “And come on, boss, I know you. Jennysara is gorgeous, right?” She grabbed a handful of popcorn out of the bowl on the floor - smearing teal nail polish over half a dozen other kernels. It would probably be fine.

Juno hummed. “Ehhh, I don’t know, Joeadam has a real strong jaw. I like that in a man.”

“Don’t you mean had a real strong jaw?”

He looked her in the eyes. “You never know, Rita, you never know.”

While Jennysarapril and Almelialily embrace tenderly in the foreground, something moves behind them. It’s Joeadam, struggling to stand up from the floor! “Somethin’ I never told you,” he rasps. “I was born half-Martian, so I’m immortal.” He sees his wife and sister locked together, and tears immediately well up in his eyes that now glow purple.

“That’s not how Martians work!”

“It is now!”

Juno shook his head. “I’ll let it go if you stop getting nail polish in the snacks and paint my nails black instead of whatever neon shade you were going to go for.”

Rita sat back on the couch digging through a box held together with duct tape and hope to find a bottle of nail polish. “No can do, Steel, I have the perfect color for you and I will not be dissuaded. Rita is unstoppable!” She pulled a deep navy bottle from the box and held it out to Juno. “ ‘The Midnight Fox’, see? Gorgeous.”

“Fiiiiine.”

“I know you love it. C’mon, c’mon, tell me you love it!”

“Maybe I tolerate it. Now shut up and do my nails, I wanna hear what Juliesue thinks of her half-brother being Martian.”

Rita beamed ear to ear, and mimed a zipping motion across her face and throwing away the key. Juno smiled back at her, for once not thinking about the rent due in his apartment or how many months it had been since he’d smelled Nureyev’s cologne or any of the million things that weighed on him every day. Just sat on a couch with someone who was probably his best friend, getting a little drunk off nail polish fumes and laughing at soap operas.

The first good night he’d had in a long, long while.

You’re drunk again.

Hello, Love bugs!!

This is a bit of a dark fic. If you need something more fluffy you can find something on my master list.

Dan X Reader 

Warnings- Alcohol, depression, drunk, death.


Could you write an imagine where Y/N and Dan have had an argument over her depression and her need to get drunk as often as possible, so she sits at his piano and starts to play Because I Want You (Redux) by Placebo? And he creeps in while she’s playing and he kind of realizes how fucked the entire situation is and sits beside her and pulls her close and manages to convince her to get help even though she’d refused it before? Sorry, it’s specific but it fits the song!! Thank you. xx -Anonymous.


A terrible cycle has taken over your life. You wake up and have a warm shower to wash away the night from before. You find your outfit for the day and get dressed and go to school, stop at the liquor store on your way home. Once home you can finally let the numb takeover. You change into your comfy clothes then set to your nightly routine.It starts with the first drink. Only a single, mostly pop. Then one more, the preceding drinks become less mix and more alcohol. The drinks are harder and than easier to drink, the burning subsided with every gulp. Yours locked in the office. You always say that you were working on homework or talking to your mother. The truth was that you were drinking your sorrows away.

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metamagics  asked:

for the prompts: jesper and kaz's friendship?

brotp, brotp, brotp 

  • the process of getting back to where they once were was sluggish
  • jesper thought things would be looking up after inej delivered the message about him being missed around the slat, but when he returned for a day there was no ceremonious reunion. kaz received jesper’s presence with indifference
  • affronted with the reality that being missed wasn’t the same as being back in good graces, jesper convinced himself not to be the first one to cave
    • it was possible kaz could even miss his enemies for the sense of purpose and routine they offered him. i’m an idiot
  • he wouldn’t cross that frigid bridge isolating them no matter how badly he wanted to. if kaz wanted him back in his life, he’d have to meet him half the way
  • and deep down he knew kaz wouldn’t. he stopped waiting for any extended civility from him and kept himself busy
    • (though he remained in awe of kaz’s feats as a barrel boss from the distance)
  • the fact he hadn’t expected change made it easier for kaz to take him by surprise
  • it was typical for jesper to optimistically read into everything kaz said. he knew it wasn’t wise. kaz’s mind was inhabited of nothing but deviously beautiful schemes. contrived words from his mouth could make even a skeptic believe. but that never stopped jesper from searching for double meanings
  • so one night when jesper showed up at crow club and kaz sidled to his side asking “is it wise for you to be here?” jesper noted the concern in his voice and instead heard i’m worried about you being here
  • they both turned in unison to the tapping of the rotating makker’s wheel. cheery bellows erupted from the table, fortunes won, drunks celebrating, losers fuming. jesper could taste the rush from where he stood. he tightened his grip around his drink and tore his eyes away.
  • but intent to give kaz a hard time he countered, “why wouldn’t it be?”
  • “because you look ill. considering you ordered a drink without liquor in it, there must be another reason you look as if you’re about to soil my floor.”
  • jesper raised an eyebrow. “were you watching me?”
  • “you’re the tallest person in here and you’re wearing a shirt that rivals only the sun in brightness. hard not to notice your movements.”
  • “i don’t need a nursemaid. i’m not going to gamble.”
  • kaz continued to check on him regardless, but he’d never admit that’s what he was doing.
  • and as jesper stood among the throng of familiar faces—dreg members who clapped him on the back insisting his mischief was missed, wasters that frequented the three man bramble table with him in the past who said they missed collecting all of his money—jesper could see the way kaz’s shoulders shook with silent laughter a few feet away while he eavesdropped
  • jesper glared at him, but kaz looked amused back at him
  • so jesper returned whenever he wasn’t busy. of course kaz would have known jesper was there solely for him, but he didn’t seem to mind
  • one day jesper filled the silence between them by asking about inej and her voyage hunting slavers. or he at least attempted to. the only information he managed to squeeze from kaz was she sent a letter saying she was safe
  • jesper quit trying to probe him and instead changed the subject. he joked about other dregs members behind their backs and kaz occasionally laughed with him
  • he knew things were truly improving when kaz proposed a job offer. “i’ve gone legit, kaz. i don’t need the money.” jesper reminded him
  • “don’t do it for the money, then.”
  • jesper laughed. “what other reason would i have to do it?”
  • “i need someone who i know will watch my back.” it stunned jesper
    • kaz trusts me again. 
  • and it was the closest he ever got to admitting he needed jesper and that the sharpshooter, his second in a fight, couldn’t be truly replaced. he accepted the job, but he would bargain different compensation for it
  • he watched kaz’s trickster fingers. the crimson gambling tokens he was entertaining himself with were shockingly bright against his pale skin like rose petals against the snow. “i’ll go.” 
  • “i’m sensing a condition.”
  • jesper tapped the pearl grips of his revolvers. “wylan and i are going to go visit my da together. he’s asked about all of you. if i take this job, come with us to see him.”
  • kaz’s face remained devoid of emotion, but his fingers stopped, the chips disappearing before jesper’s eyes. jesper knew from this that he stunned him right back. “to the farm?”
  • jesper shrugged to seem indifferent, but he rummaged his thoughts for something more persuasive. “plums are in season,” was the first thought that came to mind
  • kaz flicked his wrist, the crimson returning between his fingers again. he held jesper’s gaze with his amused, black eyes and said, “well in that case…” 
  • jesper beamed back at him. kaz shook his head at the absurdity of it all, but there was a smile playing at his lips.
  • and it was on the farm with the sun glaring down at them as they sat side by side, nearly swallowed by the tall grass and overwhelming mounds of hay colm made them arrange that kaz admitted, “jordie was my brother.”
  • jesper didn’t know what inspired him to confess, but he accepted the information in content silence. if kaz once compared him to his brother, maybe there was more hope for a full reconciliation than he realized
  • jesper had a sense things would never go back to how they used to be. 
  • instead, maybe they’d be better…

Well, well, well, look who’s back with the most morally repugnant update in Union history. Me. It’s been a very productive summer of Netflix, chill and giving wrong directions to tourists but all good things must come to an end. Also coming to an end is my ill-fated attempt to kill Max, who, after refusing to eat the cake FOR 2 FUCKING DAYS is finally released from the cage of death. Honestly, I’m impressed, Max, you’re definitely not as stupid as you look.

-Yea, I get that a lot.

I doubt that but whatever, now gtfo and I better not see your Komei-clone ass around Jojo ever again or it’s back in prison for you!

-So, Jojo, not that we’re not all extremely invested in the excruciating selection process of your husband, but are you any closer to picking one?? I mean I love this whole commune thing we have going but the constant food delivery for 8 is killing us.

-We’re afraid not, dear brother, it’s starting to look like no one in this world is worthy of our majesty.

Ugh are we really doing royal ‘we’ now? Is this what this has come to?

-Yes, college has really helped develop our sense of self-worth.

How can it be self-worth if you’re ‘we’?

-This is exactly the kind of idiotic questioning that would get you eliminated from the suitor process. 

Oh, perish the thought! And miss out on this classical-music-dick-measuring-contest you have them doing?

-Ew seriously, Francis, Vivaldi? Why don’t you turn up to Justin Bieber while you’re at it.

Man, what a zinger! Good times. JOJO PICK A FUCKING DUDE ALREADY SO I CAN MOVE THE OTHERS OUT THE LOT IS LAGGY AS SHIT

-I lost the dick measuring contest and my punishment is sleeping on the couch.

KILL HIM IN HIS SLEEP MELODY

-Maybe later, Real Housewives of Pleasantview is on, Cassandra is getting dragged for the pigtails!!

-Ha, look at this Vivaldi-listening losér! Point at him and laugh, everyone!

-Who’s laughing now, bitch? Not you with that hoof right in your French-whore mouth!

-Ugh, aren’t you late for the beans-on-toast feast, you limey piece of merde?

Not since the 100 Years War have French-British tensions ran this high. Of course that one was for a throne, while this one..

-Is for something far more important.. Our heart.

LMAO Jojo please be serious, you don’t have a heart.

-We absolutely do and it’s made out of pure gold.

Yea I guess, I mean gold is a metal after all! 

-Do you really think you should be eating decaying Chinese food, mon cheri? You’re going to need a soda to digest it and you know it’s too cold for your teeth!

-Wyatt, I don’t pay you to think, I pay you to sit across from me and look pretty, and occasionally to scooch down next to me so I look taller.

-You actually don’t pay me at all.

-Yes and obviously I’m getting my money’s worth.

Wow Jojo tone it down, your gold heart is shinning so brightly I’m gonna go blind!

Precious Gunther has added three new addictions to his existing sex one! A) working out in this atrocious outfit.

B) blowing bubbles from dawn to dusk.

and c) and the most disturbing one, constantly being alone in enclosed spaces with his brother’s intended, Brit Brit. At first I wasn’t too worried about it, thinking Brit is a popularity sim so it’s only natural..but then..

I SEE THIS. GODDAMMIT GUNTHER WHY MUST YOU HAVE CHEMISTRY WITH EVERYONE

-Man idk, it’s almost supernatural. Blame it on God ;)

UGH I don’t even know who I hate more, your whore ass-

-or this fucking llama that hasn’t gone home in 3 days and is eating all our pizza. 

-I just feel so accepted here, like I’m part of the family, you know? 

GET OUT

Speaking of furries, not even the cow will approach the fucking cowplant, jfc. I mean you’d expect some kind of kinship there but nop. Great job Jojo, you killed a dozen secret society members for a defective cowplant.

-Mooo :(

I don’t know which one of you did that but stfu, I can’t anymore with this flop ass household!!!1

ANYWAY back to Brit and Daniel, it seems like my Gunther concerns were baseless, since these two remain eternally into each other, always autonomously doing cute crap.

-Oh Daniel, let me serenade you with the song of your people!  

The kings made us drunk with fumes,
peace among us, war to the tyrants!
Let the armies go on strike,
stocks in the air, and break ranks.
If they insist, these cannibals
on making heroes of us,
they will know soon that our bullets
are for our own generals  ♪

ROMANCE ISN’T DEAD

In other news, allow me to present you all with Melody’s personality panel. I was under the false impression that being the child of Wanda and Stephen she was.. nice?? But nop, total Union freak material! We hit the jackpot once again. Now her best friendship with bitch Brit makes total sense.

-Honestly girl, this janky ass house is such a step down from the sorority, I spend half the day thinking of ways to peace out.

-Ugh I know, I was on the fence at first but can you really put a price on good d?

-Aw, what are my beautiful hens cackling about? May I join?

-No.

-I was about to make a math joke but I doubt you gals would get it, amirite? As Barbie said, math is hard!

- I’m a literal math major.

-Oh I know, Mel, good for you! Affirmative action works wonders!

KILL HIM AND HIS HAREM WE DON’T NEED THE LAG

It’s another day in paradise. Daniel has finally cracked and gone full Komei, autonomously cleaning shit even though we have a maid..

Melody ate a ton of burnt grilled cheese and is non-stop throwing up..

AND THIS BULLSHIT IS STILL GOING ON. STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE

-What?? We’re just talking, GAWD

No you’re not “””just talking””” you’re gossiping and doing sexy whispers, I KNOW YOUR TRICKS GUNTHER-

-I don’t mean to interrupt but I think you’re focusing on the wrong issue here?

OH AM I?? DO TELL

-LOOK OUTSIDE BITCH

Nice try whores, nothing is happening outside-

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMM WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. WHAT. 

-That’s right, Ti-Ning and I are in love now!

……………………….FRAN THIS BETTER BE SOME DRY ASS BRITISH HUMOR 

-Nop! We got tired of waiting for Jojo and we decided the best way to handle it was to suddenly make out in front of him even tho we have never even flirted before!

THIS LITERALLY CANNOT BE HAPPENING

-Well it is, so best accept it and we can all move on :)

Oh yea certainly, I mean if anything Jojo is known for his ability to forgive and forget!

See the ghost of Ti-Ning indeed! Finally a wish Jojo and I share. 

TI-NING OMFG THIS LACK OF SHAME

-Haha!!! Finally I’m free to be as gross as I want >:) 

Well.. enjoy it while it lasts.

-The hell does that mean??

Nothing, just you know, none of us know when our time will come.. only that it will. The curse of human existence, one might say. Only we among the animal world know that we will die. Memento mori, Ti-Ning. And we will memento you. 

-..Yea, maybe it’s time I move out?

I mean, you can try..

..but like the curse from It Follows, it follows. It being Jojo. How you holding up boo?

-Oh, I’m great, can’t you tell?

You know what might help? Some of your beloved homework! Do something useful, get your mind off this stuff..

“Sending The First Human to Mercury and Leaving Him There: A Very Specific Space Exploration Proposal” 

-Jojό!! I’m writing about how I finally won your heart but please don’t look, I’m gonna read this at our wedding!

-Yea I literally couldn’t care less about you and your thoughts/feelings/etc, what was left of my heart is dead and gone and now there’s only a black hole there.. Oh we could also send Ti-Ning to a black hole if Mercury doesn’t work. Nice.

-UGH how are you even still alive and breathing the same air as me and not dead from shame like you should be, you vile adulteress???

-OH PLEASE you’re just mad cause Fran and I realized we can do better than your mega-jaw ass. If not for the endless supply of bubbles around here blurring our vision this would have happened weeks ago!

-I’m going to strangle you in your sleep and my jaw will be the last thing you see.

-Your jaw would be the last thing I saw even if I died on the moon.

-MAYBE YOU WILL

…………………well I guess it’s official then. And if the above didn’t seal it..

..this definitely did. God have mercy on me, what a shitshow.

While Tin and Fran are woohooing, Jojo attempts to end his troubles once and for all by running out of the house and into a thunder fire. Thankfully the rain puts it out quickly and all we’re left with is critically low hygiene. 

Man, serving Penguin teas! You have the entire look down, Jo. I’d tell you to audition for Gotham but that’s extremely bad career advice

-Oh god, I almost died!!!! 

Aw I know, but don’t worry you’re safe now <3

-No I mean I came so close but didn’t make it.. :(

Jojo please, if anything, live to kill Ti-Ning and Francis. You owe it to yourself.

As soon as Fran and Tin are done, guess who rushes in to gossip next to the bed. ISTG YOU ASSHOLES, BREAK IT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT THAT WINDOW

-Whatever, we’d just land on Jojo trying to set himself on fire.

-LOL oh Brit you’re so funny!

I HATE THIS HOUSE

-HAD FUN, DID WE YOU SLUT

-Get him, Jojό!

Honestly Wyatt, I get being supportive but I’m really starting to worry about you, even demeaning yourself has its limits..

..especially since Jojo continues to be a massive freakshow. Good lord.

-Oh Francis, don’t tell Wyatt cause you know how he gets, but your total disregard for my existence is making me see you in a whole new, hot, light..

Man, good thing Wyatt isn’t standing 3 steps away from you!

Oh yes, loving this dinner. An ocean between us..

-I wouldn’t eat that third slice if I was you, Ti-Ning. Your funeral day is fast approaching, don’t you want to look nice for it? 

-Well you’ll be there so it doesn’t matter, everyone will be looking at your jaw.

Yes, what a wonderful night. Now let’s all go to bed and hopefully everyone will have calmed down a little by tomorrow!

LMAO yea idk what I was thinking.

-Strangle me in my sleep? How about I strangle you in broad daylight???

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but.. poor Jojo. Not only did he get his ass beat, but to literally add insult to the injury-

-everyone is lusting after Gunther during his defeat. Jfc, I’d want to set myself on fire too.

Oh here we go, Gunther to the rescue! 

-How dare you beat up my brother even though he attacked you first? Prepare to die!

-Whatever, I’ve been preparing for that for the last couple days!

Aw, Gunther is such a good brother/giant loser depending on the outcome of this fight.

VINDICATION. Bravo, Gunther, defending our non-existent family honor!

Daniel, in true Daniel fashion, slept through this entire shitshow, which might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

Oop, spoke too soon. Say what you want about Gunther and Daniel but man do they both love Jojo! Truly god knows why.

-So Brit, you’re studying poli-sci, can you think of a peaceful resolution to this? Haha!

-YOU STFU TI-NING MY FINALS ARE TODAY MY GPA IS ALREADY IN THE TOILET AND NOW IM GONNA FLOP CAUSE YOU ASSHOLES SPENT THE WHOLE NIGHT FUCKING AND THE WHOLE DAY FIGHTING AND I HAVEN’T SLEPT AT ALL DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL I’M GONNA BURN THIS PLACE TO THE FUCKING GROUND IF YOU TRY ME

Well, you might not need to Brit! WHAT IS UP WITH THIS HYPER-FLAMMABLE CACTUS

Brit returns from her finals with a free pizza! How’d you do, Brit?

-Saved by the nightie again!

NOICE. Got a freebie pizza from it too?

-No, I found it in the garbage. My gift to Francis and Ti-Ning for their 3 day anniversary! 

Jojo’s official greek house portrait coming along nicely! Wow he looks very majestic..

..Instagram vs Real Life.

-Bowling is so satisfying if you pretend the pins are your former lovers’ genitals!

Whatever coping method works for you boo!

Gunther and Ti-Ning are officially enemies which is hilarious because not even Jojo is enemies with him?? Follow your bliss, Guns!

In an impressive display of brotherly synchronicity we have double slapping across the room. Double the slapping for half the time, Jojo is as always a true capitalist.

JOJO!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WON! So proud of my baby <3 I’m ofc kidding, this shit has gotten old really fast and I extremely feel Brit watching uninterested. ENOUGH  

HARD MOOD. Brit is honestly on another level than the rest of us basics. What an icon.

For some reason I bothered to fulfill Ti-Ning’s want to learn that relationship maintenance or w/e lifetime skill (talk about money down the drain) and the irony of this pop up text almost sent me to an early grave. And we know who’s going to an early grave today..

IT’S CAKE TIME. REACH OUT, TI-NING. YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT

FINALLY. GOODBYE FIGHTING AND INSANE LAG

JESUS JOJO. STONE. COLD.

Ice Cube would like to say,
that I’m a crazy muthafucka from around the way,
since I was a youth, I smoked weed out,
now I’m the muthafucka that ya read about,
takin’ a life or two,
that’s what the hell I do, you don’t like how I’m livin
well fuck you ♪

Wyatt and Brit were on their way to react to Ti-Ning’s little accident but somehow got sidetracked and are now randomly arguing on the porch. Honestly I don’t even know what’s going on anymore, I’ve lost all control of this household.

Jojo rushes over to celebrate Ti-Ning’s demise by immediately slapping the shit out of his grieving lover! Whenever you think we can’t possibly sink any lower, think again. Like right now, after the slapping, are you thinking we can’t sink any lower?????????????????????????????

THINK. AGAIN.

ARE YOU SCREAMING? CAUSE I DID

YUP THIS IS HAPPENING

IT’S REAL

IT’S. REAL. THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH CURSE WORDS IN ANY LANGUAGE TO EXPRESS MY FEELINGS

FUCK YOU FRANCIS. FUCK. YOU. YOU’RE GETTING MURDERED SO FUCKING HARD YOU UNBELIEVABLE ASSHOLE. I’M FUCKING DONE. JOJO YOU’RE GONNA DIE ALONE TIME FOR ALL OF US TO ACCEPT THAT REALITY. WE STARTED OUT WITH 3 CANDIDATES AND ENDED UP HERE. HOW THE EVERLOVING FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN FRANCIS AND WYATT HAVE. 1 BOLT. ONE. WYATT IS A FAMILY SIM I’M SO PISSED OFF I NEED TO TAKE A MOMENT

OK. In my 10 years of playing I have never wanted to quit without saving more than with this bullshit. Look at fucking Fran’s smug ass face and moron Wyatt putting on an Oscar worthy performance of shock and regret. YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID NO, YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE HOME WYATT. What the FUCK are we gonna do now???? I guess good thing Max Flexor survived the cage of death. GOD.DAMMIT

The stranger.

Characters: Sehun x reader. Chanyeol. Jongdae. Jongin. BaekHyun. Readers friends Sidney/Taylor.

Content: some violence.

“Tequila. Lime. 3, please.” I smiled at the bartender and patiently waited for our shots to be poured. I angled my body out toward the scene before me.

I scanned the room and laughed when I saw my friends hopping around the center of the dance floor. They embodied the phrase, “dance like nobody is watching.” Although, after 7 or 8 drinks, most people are more prone to letting loose.

While watching the dance floor, my eyes were drawn to a tall figure near my group. He had his hair pushed back and was moving his body in a way that had my heart skipping a beat. I was immediately drawn to him, and wanted to get closer.

I tipped the bartender and headed to the floor with my shots. I maneuvered through the plethora of people, making a conscious attempt to be sure to cross into the handsome stranger’s line of sight.

He had on black pants and a white button up shirt that had the top several buttons undone. It flowed with his dance moves as though it was a part of his body that he had control over. His eyes were intense and focused on his movements. He was with a group of guys who were all also talented dancers and good looking, but he stood out out of all of them.

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Face the Truth (Dean x Reader)

Character: Dean x Reader (Neutral)

Word Count: 1,821

Warnings: Swearing. Infidelity? Angst.

Request: Can you write a fic of the reader finding out Dean cheated on her?

AN: Hey, guys!! So, it’s official. I’m an aunt to a bouncing baby boy :) Ugh. I love him so much already!!!

I hope everyone enjoys! Feel free to leave a request, tell me what you think, or just drop by to say hello :) I’d love to get to know y’all!

-Megan :)

x

————————

“What were you thinking, [Y/N]? You could’ve gotten us all killed.”

Rolling your eyes maliciously, you leaned against the shiny, black hood of the Impala. You had seen this coming… the inevitable argument that had been bubbling under Dean’s skin for more than a week, now; and if you were being completely honest with yourself, you knew that this was just the calm before the storm.

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there is this feeling in your chest,
and it is both lightning and thunder
and it is holy. 

the beat of your heart is steady and loud,
echoes like sound in a church yard,
like a thousand voices raised in prayer,
you are devout but your god is not their god.

your god is 71% water,
it is the house of humanity,
and of every other species we know.

your god is angry,
fed from tornadoes,
drunk from the fumes of volcanoes.

your god is pure,
crystalline structures shining in moonlight,
salt lakes and craters of gold in the ground.

your god is loving,
the cradle of life everlasting, repeating,
a cycle that winds back to the beginning. 

your god is the earth,
and you bow to it every night in your dreams,
and every day as you walk on it’s surface.

—  your god // l.s.

wombatking replied to your post“Fanart prompts. Prompt for fanarts….”

Clint signing Kate’s cast after she hurts her ankle? He gets beat up so often compared to her that it’s probably a rare occurrence that he won’t let pass by without marking it. :)

“You don’t have to enjoy this so much.” “Well maybe you should be more careful.”
drunken tears

It was an average night for a certain black hole eyed young man as he stumbled out of the bar drunk off his ass. Tom had done this walk before being too drunk to see straight and too drunk to notice tears in his eyes at this point. Another day where he’d drunk pain away to the point of not feeling it but as the night came around and he wasn’t at home tom had the routine of becoming the truly depressed drunk Edd and Matt never met. It was with great effort to say the least to be an angry or grumpy drunk during the day and keep his broken heart hidden. Tom however did it to keep the feelings buried until he was somewhere nobody cared he was crying . Tom didn’t want to get them involved in his problems unless he needed a ride home then he’d call Matt who’d forget he’d even picked up the crying drunk by morning but that was only a rare thing.
Tom had been walking crossed the street when something bright hit his eyes and he was tackled out of whatever it was way by someone. Tom’s head was swimming in confusion as he looked up. Tord had seen the familiar hoodie walking out of the bar while he been heading the other way , the man was clearly drunk which Tord knew clearly from other nights he’d seen Tom out and about this late. Usually Tord follow the drunk from a safe distance to make sure he made home it safely or had called for a ride and never got involved because usually Tom never walked straight into traffic. Tord only followed him to make sure he didn’t die and this was the first he’d been seen by tom. Tord had taken quick notice and action to get tom out of the way of a massive truck the drunk hadn’t noticed driving straight towards him, being lucky neither of them had gotten hit as he looked down at the drunk. Angry clear fuming from Tom’s carelessness of his own life only to melt into concern at the drunk’s cheek stained cheeks and mellow circles.
“t-tord….?” The drunk said sounding as if it was the first thing he’d said all night being pinned to the ground after being tackled by the familiar red hoodie. Tom was stunned at see his face after so long that he’d hug the guy if his arms weren’t pinned down. There was silence as tord glared at the drunk who was trying to wiggle free before realizing he was still on top of tom. Tord rolled off sitting up still a bit thrown off by how upset Tom looked as the last time he’d seen tom in that much pain they were 12 and Tom’s pineapple father had been killed by a bear with gun. He’d introduced tom to his first beer from Tord father’s stash to cheer the kid up so he get tom out of the pineapple soaked clothes. It had been an horrible experience but in the end Tord gotten his first kiss from the drunk 12 year old wearing his old checkered pants and a blue shirt. The two never talked about that event and Tom never asked what happened to his father’s remains mostly cause whenever him or matt for some reason were asked about it they froze and whenever Tord was asked he’d pull out gun and shoot the closes non-living thing without a thought. It was a deeply horrible event for the three that Edd never knew about mostly because Edd met them in the end of middle school at 14. Tord had never wanted to see tom so broken again , especially now since Tom was drunk and Tord couldn’t fix the problem by getting him drunk. He been sitting there deep in thought when he was pulled in to a hug by tom.
“-! Tom what the hell” Tord snapped before pausing and hugging the drunk back, “lets get you looked ok”
“ok “ tom said rubbing his eyes as Tord helped him up before they walked the opposite direction of the house. The two walked through the streets down to as tom’s head began to come back to somewhat of its senses ,”Tord…why’d you save me?”
This question had made itself clear as his still pretty bad head was trying to piece fuzzy things together since the strong part of his buzz was fading. The last time the two had seen each other Tord was calling him the son of a dirty bowling ball infront of edd and Matt. Tom had threaten to gut him in his sleep for calling Tom’s mom a dirty bowling ball. She always waxed herself and never got herself dirty unless she was rolling outside her house and they both knew that. Tord was the only one of his friends who had met his mother and knew she really was a bowling ball, so the remark had gone over the others heads. The fight almost went to a bloody beat down until Edd told them both to calm down and tord yelled he couldn’t stand living with an alcoholic anymore. Tord left the very next day with a shallow good bye to tom as he left. The fight had started over something stupid of course all their fights had but it had gotten a lot deeper and anger fill than the others which had caused Tord to leave. It was over what had happened to Tord’s favorite gun which tom was last seen with which was true tom did have and he still had it now but Tord had accused him of selling the gun which was name Sans to their neighbors who had suddenly had a similar gun. Tom hadn’t sold Sans because Sans was in his dress , He’d been trying wash the blue marker off it that Matt written on it . Tom actually had just given on washing the marker off and recently had the gun recolored red to match Tord’s hoodie. It ate him up inside that Tord thought he’d sell the guy’s favorite gun, but he’d didn’t want Tord attacking Matt for writing Suzanne on the gun in blue marker thinking it was Tom’s. So they’d fought about it and he said he didn’t remember where sans was cause he was drunk the last time he saw it to protect Matt’s ass, and Tord got anger at him for selling it drunk. Edd tried to step in but it didn’t help and Tord left Tom got a lot harsher on matt because matt had taken the gun without asking and thought the gun was his when Tom didn’t own a gun. Then the guilt was washed down with alcohol as Tom continued to try wash the mark off and send it back to Tord at some point. Some nights its all he do was try washing the marker off. Even if it had ruined his demeanor in Tord’s eyes he’d fix it and send back to guy. Tom still became a functioning drunk buying his flask and filling it with vodka.
Tord however was surprised by his question, why wouldn’t he save tom? Did tom think just because he’d lost Sans Tord wouldn’t save him from getting it by a truck. Tord may have been upset but he wouldn’t let tom die because of his gun being lost. He could tell Tom was lying about drunk the last time he’d seen it because back then tom wasn’t a heavy drinker and he was never round guns drunk in the first place. But Tord was mad he was being lied to about the wear abouts of his favorite gun while they were fighting and said somethings he shouldn’t have , Sans getting lost shouldn’t have made Tom sob that when he thought no one hear him and Tord should of apologized back then that night even. He’ sat in his room hearing Tom sob through the walls and done nothing but leave the next morning. Edd had wrote to him about how they were doing and so did matt but nothing from Tom , Edd wrote about him though and Tord was halfheartedly destroyed to find out that Tom become a functioning drunk.
“Cause I still care tom”Tord said as they stepped in front of what looked to be an abandoned building as he sat tom down and lifted the cover of the light box next to the door, “Red rover in and over the blue stain inside”
“Hello sir opening the doors for you now welcome back” a said over the intercom as Tom looked to see a hole open from the wall beside him.
“Have Doctor Manny meet us on the first floor I brought the blue stain and he was nearly hit by a car” Tord demanded as he help tom through the door before getting a ‘I’m on it sir’ from the intercom. They step into his base of operations as they passed a few of his men who were asking questions while whispering to each other.
‘ do you really think that’s the blue stain pual?’
‘It couldn’t be right isn’t the blue stain some type bad ass drunk?’  Tord chuckled a little bit at the remark, he’d developed code names for the three he used to live with they become rumored bad ass who’d earned his respect. Which for the names he given them you’d think it be clear that they were his friends, Matt was the purple mirror, Edd was the green cola can and Tom was the blue stain.  Tord let the rumors fly around as it made him seem much harsher as no one else had code names, The doctor ran over to them Taking tom out from under his arm.
“Sir did his head hit the side way or grable?”
“we both hit the side walk but I didn’t see any blood” Tord replied following the doctor,” Also Paul, Patryck get rid of any fresh pineapples in the headquarters I don’t want any chance of seeing them”
The men nodded running off towards the kitchen on a another floor as the doctor walked tom towards the med bay ,”Sir do you have any injuries the need treatment ?” the added as they all walked in to the med bay.
“just a scrapped knee Doc just make sure he’s alright if you need info I put his medical files in your cabinet next to mine”Tord said as he grabbed his phone as tom plopped on the mat in the med bay , going through his contacts and left a message for Edd and Matt,”hey guys Tom’s hanging with me for a bit found him stumbling around and I didn’t want the drunk to hurt on his way to the house Tord” ( @nicktoonsunite hope you enjoy theres more on the way)

Used to Be Mine

Summary: Loosely based on the song She Used to be Mine by Sara Bareilles. Dean comes home drunk and confesses feelings about his life to the reader he buries deep 

Characters: Dean Winchester X Reader

Warnings: Language

Content: Angst

Word Count: 1427

Originally posted by acklesjensen

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For raisesomehale because of this post (a postcard that says “Hey! I used to live in your house. I’m drunk in Boston, and it’s the only address I know.” and tags #HI HELLO PPL OF MY DASHBOARD PLS WRITE ME THIS STEREK FIC. I couldn’t help myself.

Rating: T for drunk!Stiles

Tags: drunk!stiles, human, awkward!derek, un-beta’d

-

It’s weird, but also slightly funny. Derek can’t help but smile as he reads the backside of the postcard again.

“Hey! I used to live in your apartment. I’m drunk in Boston and it’s the only address I know. Happy holidays. SS”

Derek doesn’t get many postcards so he sticks it to the fridge and smiles every time he sees the card in the next few weeks. He can’t help but wonder who SS is. He doesn’t remember the previous tenant, doesn’t think they ever met.

As the months pass he gets used to the card and doesn’t look at it twice anymore.

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Unhappy Ending

Inspired by an ask from @speaknow1989red96 and some helpful suggestions from @ohhnoobabe :)

- - - -

Seven and a half months of bliss, she was surprised it had lasted this long. The inevitable had finally happened. She knew it would happen eventually but in truth this was still shocking. This was a step too far. Unforgivable.

She read the headline again - 

Taylor Swift dumps Calvin Harris after ‘happy ending’ at LA massage parlour

Her eyes welled up with tears and she didn’t try to make them stop. She cried because she knew it was over. She knew they were done; it was almost like grieving.

She went to pick up her phone to speak with him, to get this out of the way, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wasn’t ready to let him go.

How could he forgive this? How could she ask him to deal with this? She couldn’t.

*

He had just returned from the gym, mercifully he didn’t meet any paparazzi on the way. He was in no mood to deal with them today. His phone beeped from his pocket - a small smile appeared on his face thinking it might be her. He’d be seeing her later but that wasn’t soon enough. His smile faded when he read Charlie’s name on his screen, he opened the text - smile turning to confusion.

Charlie: Hey dude, have you seen the latest story about you and Tay?

His brows furrowed in confusion as he opened up his emails, sure enough there was an email from his publicist - subject line URGENT. He opened it, slightly nervously, and clicked on the link that directed him to an article on Hollywood Life. His confusion turned to anger, anger lead to fury until finally he put his phone down and succumbed to an uncontrollable fear.

Has she seen this? Does she believe it? He felt sick, his skin clammy with a cold sweat. He stood up, completely unsure what to do and began pacing back and forth. He went to grab his phone to call her but fear stopped him. If she’s seen it she hasn’t called him - she doesn’t want to speak with him. His worst fears were all but verbally confirmed by this action. She was done.

He walked into his kitchen and did something he hadn’t done for a long time. He grabbed a bottle from the side, not even bothering to see what it was and unscrewed the top. Liquid sloshed into the glass as he poured a healthy measure. He downed it in one and preceded to pour another.

*

She was pacing her kitchen with her phone against her ear. She’d been calling him non-stop for the past half an hour. No answer. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried. SHe knew without a shadow of a doubt that the story as false but this reaction frightened her. The fact he hadn’t reached out to speak to her; the paparazzi had finally done it, they’d drive another relationship away. She was due to go over to his place within the next hour and she nodded to herself, almost to convince herself, that she would go.

She was nearly ready, she grabbed some shoes, tidied up her hair and slicked her cherry red armour over her lips as the final flourish. Grabbing her keys she ran out of her door and straight to the car.

Within 20 minutes she was at his door, the key he’d given her in hand. She’d had time to think and she was angry now. He hadn’t called, hadn’t check on her. The promises he’d made about not leaving were broken and she was mad.

She opened the door, music coming from the lounge. She followed the sound, anger increasing with every step.

‘Adam!’ she shouted out. His reply was delayed and his voice sounded unfamiliar to her but she couldn’t figure out why. She turned the corner and he came into view. He was sitting on his couch, an empty bottle of what she ascertained was whiskey next to him. He looked up at her; a mixture of emotions on his face that she couldn’t quite read.

‘Adam, what the hell? I’ve been trying to call you. What the fuck is going on?’

He just continued to stare at her, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to form words.

‘I- I’m s-You’re here. My baby is here.’ he finally got the words out. He was stuttering, his voice shaky. She immediately recognised the symptoms. He was drunk - blind drunk.

‘You’re fucking drunk? You’re that scared to talk to me, to tell me to my face that we’re done so you get drunk?’ she was fuming, she stamped her feet over to him grabbing the bottle and waving it in front of his face. ‘I can’t believe this’ she finished, more to herself that anyone else.

He stood up now, his face dropped with sadness. ‘So we are done? You’re finished with me? I swear I didn’t do it Taylor. I love you. I love you so much it scares me.’ he stuttered his way through the sentence, slurring almost every word as he made his way towards her but his footing was awkward and his depth perception obviously off. He walked directly into the low coffee table in front of him and plummeted to the floor.

She watched everything happen in almost slow motion, she reached out to him to break his fall but it was no use. He was too heavy, too big. She watched helplessly as he hit the floor. She rushed to his side, he was unharmed but passed out.

‘You idiot. I love you too, always. But don’t you dare do this to me again.’ she whispered to him, knowing full well he couldn’t hear her. She tried to lift him, to at least get him back on the couch would be better than this. Even with all the strength in her arms he didn’t move an inch.

She started shaking him, lightly at first. ‘Adam. Adam wake up. Come on baby.’ she said, louder than before. He was still - his heavy drunk breathing the only sound. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and called the only people she knew that would be able to help her.

*

Almost 20 minutes later a knock at the door pulled her out of her seat where she’d been watching Adam breathing in and out, whispering her name in his sleep.

She opened up and was greeted by her security team -. ‘Thanks for coming guys, he’s through here.’ she said, relief running through her. They followed her in to the room, lightly laughing as she rolled her eyes comically as she gestured to him. They pulled him upright with ease and carried him to the bedroom, flopping him down on the bed.

‘Thanks guy, I really appreciate it. I’ll take it from here.’

‘No problem, Ms. Swift. Let us know if you need anything else.’

She turned back around, looking at her boyfriend and sighing. She moved over to him, pulling off his shoes and tugging his jeans off. As she made her way around to her side of the bed he began to stir, his arms reaching out to her.

‘M’sorry, babe.’ his accent deeper and stronger with the added alcohol.

‘I know, I know. Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’ she said, stripping off her own clothes and grabbing a tshirt of Adam’s to throw on. She crawled into bed beside him as he rolled towards her, leaning his head on her shoulder. She absent-mindedly stoked his hair thinking about the events of the day. Adam hadn’t spoken to her thinking she believed the story, she hadn’t spoken to him thinking he was done with the paparazzi intrusion into their life but she was wrong and so was he. He loved her - he didn’t run. He was scared of losing her but he didn’t run and she focused on that thought as she drifted off to sleep.

*

He groaned; his head was thumping, his mouth dry and gasping for water. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. He’d stopped drinking precisely to avoid this feeling. He stretched his arm out to her side but found it empty. His mind wandered through his fuzzy memory of last night - she’d come over and they’d been shouting. After that his memory was blank - nothing. He looked around the room for evidence of her. Her clothes were on the floor, her jewellery tangled on his bedside. She was still here somewhere. He let out the breath he was unconsciously holding in and jumped out of bed.

He walked down the stairs, sounds of life coming from the kitchen. The soft melodies of music and singing spreading out towards him. He walked through the door into the kitchen, nerves shaking through him.

She turned to him as soon as he entered. ‘Hey, you’re awake.’ she was quiet, almost somber.

'Yeah.’ he replied. His hand going to the back of his neck, he was unsure of how this was going to go.

'We should talk about last night, Adam. Firstly, please don’t get like that again. I could barely move you alone, I had to call my security.’ He nodded at her, this was it he thought. He couldn’t breathe he was so nervous. 'But mostly, I’m sorry.’ she finished.

'You’re sorry? Why are you sorry? It’s me that should be sorry. I didn’t do anything at that massage place. I swear Taylor! And then I got drunk, I’m the biggest idiot. I was so terrified you believed the story and wanted to end it. The thought of not being with you killed me.’ he was rambling, talking ten to the dozen.

'Stop.’ she said, she’d walked over to him during his ramble and placed her hands on to his. 'Stop talking.’ He breathed out, in relief. 'I know the story isn’t true. I knew as soon as I read it. I trust you. I love you. I was scared that you’d had enough of the paparazzi and that’s why you didn’t call. I thought you were done with me.’ she looked down at the floor, sadness in her eyes at the mere thought of being apart from him.

He titled her chin up with his finger and kissed her lightly on the lips. 'Never. I’ll never be done with you.’

She smiled, the kind of smile that made his heart stop. 'Good. We need to trust each other, we need to talk to each other. I need to call Tree and get this story retracted’ She hugged him close, snuggling her face into his chest. ’…and you need to shower. You smell like a brewery!’

He laughed. Kissing her on the forehead and heading upstairs to the bathroom, he started thinking about what she’d said about Tree. He should do something to show her that he can deal with this stuff and that he can deal with the stories, the ridiculous lies. He opened up Twitter and laid the rumours to rest with one simple tweet.

clarke-kom-titkru  asked:

Alicia is really drunk and got into a squabble with Elyza over her safety because she went on a raid and got a little too close to a walker so Elyza scolded her. To get back at her (at least in her extra teenage mind) she decides to get drunk. She's completely zipped herself into her sleeping back with a bottle of wine and is yelling, for all to hear, secrets about Elyza while Elyza tries to unzip the back and get her out. "Did you guys know Elyza is TERRIFIED of spiders?" 1/?

Elyza rolls her eyes. “Okay, Alicia, wow, you got me. People know I’m afraid of spiders,” the blonde deadpans. From inside the sleeping bag, Alicia responds “Yeah, but you CRIED that one time when you found one in our cabin.” Elyza’s face turns red when she hears Nick and Chris snickering behind her “You know what, it was HUGE. You’d be afraid of spiders too if you grew up in the outback where LITERALLY everything can kill you!” Alicia laughs within the sleeping bag and continues. 2/?

“Guess what else?” Elyza hears her girlfriend hiccup under the blanket and hears the liquid from the wine bottle tilt and assumes Alicia is taking another drink. “Elyza LOVES to call me ‘Commander’ when I’m fucki–oof!” Elyza tackles the bundle to the deck and tries to feel where Alicia’s head is so she can cover her mouth. “Alicia Clark, I swear!” She’s struggling against the cocooned brunette and hears a giggle before “Oh yes, Commander. You’re so good!” 3/? 

Elyza shuffles around a bit more with the bundle of her girlfriend and hears her shriek from within before finally finding the zipper. She hears Nick and Chris laughing hysterically behind her and growls at then before unzipping the closure on the blanket. To her delight, Karma did her dirty work. She peered inside to see a drunk and fuming Alicia, hair and face drenched in sticky red wine. “Well babe, I may love when you’re the Commander, but I can get you wet easily.” 4/? 

Alicia shoves Elyza over and she falls on her ass and can’t stop laughing as Alicia storms off, albeit drunkenly stumbling to her cabin, mumbling something about her favorite plaid shirt being ruined. Elyza shakes her head and follows her girlfriend, hoping she doesn’t have to grovel too much. 5/5 YAY DRUNK BURRITO ALICIA

THIS IS GOOD 

Milah!Verse: Lacey & Milah

Previous installments:

[ An Awkward Reunion | Charity Begins at Home | The Spinner & the Princess ]

Belle has an accident at the town line, bringing Lacey back for a one-night only performance.  Meanwhile, Milah is still hanging around town and holding a grudge against her ex-husband and his new wife.  Unfortunately, Lacey is not Belle and isn’t the sort to take the high road.

Well, it’s been awhile since I did anything with the Milah!verse, but anonymousnerdgirl wanted to know what would happen if Lacey and Milah met.  The answer is this.

On AO3 for those interested

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