Happy Tumblrversary !! Would love to have a dribble of your fabulous College AU which is by now one of my favorite!
You ask and you shall receive! This takes place before Cassiopeia. <3
How She Came To Love
Him (College AU)
“Claire, are you hearing me?”
Claire got her eyes momentarily away from her Netter’s Anatomy Atlas and looked at
Geillis, her friend and roommate, wrinkling her nose. “What is it?”
The ginger haired girl rolled her eyes and
smirked. “I thought we were watching the game. You promised you’d take a break
from that bloody book.”
“I’m watching!” Claire said defensively. She had seen the beginning of the game – but
the massacre of Oxford had begun quite early on and she was terribly late with
her study – why the base of the skull ought to have so many holes with peculiar
“Well, it’s like watching the slaughter of
fluffy white lambs, I’ll give you that.” Geillis flipped her head, making the
bright crimson strands flow in the wind. “But that rookie, Jamie Fraser, looks…”
She bit her bottom lip, which she had painted in a beautiful coral shade, the
tip of her tongue almost showing. “Promising.”
Claire looked at the boy Geillis had pointed –
clearly in appreciation of more than his athletic prowess - a ginger himself,
tall and broad-shouldered, with a long and straight nose that reminded her of a
portrait of royalty. Seconds after she had started staring at him, he suffered
a brutal tackle and hit the ground.
“Hmpf.” She snorted unimpressed and resumed her
“Are you coming to the pub?” Geillis asked her.
Claire raised her eyes again to discover the game had already ended and
everyone was leaving the rugby stadium. “If you do, please stop by the dorm to
leave that damned thing. You’re giving me weird Hermione Granger vibes.”
“I think I’ll sit here a while longer.” Claire
smiled. The sun was setting but there was still enough light, and the weather
was warm and pleasant outside. She was becoming quite tired of being entombed
in the library.
“Suit yourself!” Geillis chanted and mockingly
threw her a kiss in the air, leaving with a group of mates in the nearest pub’s
“Foramen ovale…?” Claire peeked at the image
with one eye, annoyed with herself. “No, that’s not it, it’s the carotid canal…”
The stands were completely empty by then. She
stretched her legs and grunted in frustration, until she heard a sound echoing
from the field.
It was the young man Geilllis had coveted, the
new player in the team – from the glimpses Claire had caught from the game, he
truly seemed like the only one willing to fight against the losing tide.
Apparently he had stayed behind and was
repeatedly throwing the ball and then running to try to catch it. Claire knew a
determined soul when she saw one – he was clearly mad at himself for losing and
would only rest when he achieved perfection. She watched in fascination and
growing admiration as he sprinted and brutally slid in the mud to get the ball,
heedless of the bruises that certainly were blooming all over his body.
Light was almost disappearing, the sun hiding after
being kissed goodnight by the moon. Her book was finally closed, laying
forgotten next to her. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to him – powerless to
resist the spectacle of his unbreakable spirit.
Eventually he got up from his last attempt of
making the perfect catch and looked at himself, noticing the mud that covered
him from his boots to the tip of his hair, turned almost brown with drying
And he laughed. Laughed like a happy and mischievous
child, absurdly void of any form of pride or vanity. He cackled until he almost
doubled himself in two, completely out of breath.
“Aren’t you something, James Fraser?” Claire whispered
to herself, smiling with tenderness.
I’m imagining the cah-ching that MTV is looking at right now.
If they wanted drama from this 10 Years Later scenario then they’re getting it, all right. This may be the three fishbowls that I had at that club and one interesting conversation I had with an Uber driver about life objectives talking, but it’s my personal belief that everybody just needs to cool it down and take a second to appreciate the little things…like my patience for all of these annoying updates. I thought we were supposed to have grown up, not down.
He wakes abruptly, with some phantom monster chasing him from sleep.
He bolts up from where he was lying and instantly wishes he hadn’t. Every part of him aches. Muscles he wasn’t even aware existed twinge and snap with every breath he takes.
He leans forward on the bench and rests his head in his hands. Breathes in deeply in an attempt to push away the waves of nausea that are slowly crawling up his throat. He manages it somewhat, though it only makes him more aware of the the fact that his head still throbs with every slow thump of his heart.
Clarke reaches back from the front seat and pushes a canteen of water into his hands. He takes it and returns the gesture with a grateful smile.
The water helps settle the nausea and calms the ache in his head somewhat; enough for him to sit up straighter and take in his surroundings.
They’re still in the back of the humvee, the steady hum of the engine the only noise in the car. Abby is laid out on a stretcher directly across from him - her skin still alarmingly pale, but her breathing deep and even.
He takes in a deep breath of relief at the sight of her; she’s injured and still and sheet white - but alive.
He turns towards Clarke.
“How long until Arkadia?”
“Another hour, at least. There’s been a lot of debris on the road from the explosion.” He reaches over and checks his pulse, ducks her head to look directly into his eyes. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugs, has to keep the movement slight to keep his muscles from screaming out.
“Like hell. But I’m alive.”
She nods. They’re both quiet for a moment as they stare at Abby. Then, Clarke reaches and gently rests her hand on his shoulder.
“Murphy was afraid you had a concussion. I think you might, too. Think you can stay awake for another hour?”
He nods, then eases his body back onto the bench and leans against the wall. After a moment, he tilts his head and looks over at Abby.
He slowly inches over on the bench so that he can be close enough to reach out and grab her hand.
At his touch, she stirs. Her eyes open slowly, a somewhat glazed look to them as she takes in her surroundings.
“Hey,” he says softly, the word a hello and thank god and I love you rolled into one.
She must realize it because she smiles at him, the expression brightening her wan face.
“You’re alive,” she whispers, her voice rough and unsteady. “We made it.”
She lifts their clasped hands up slowly. Her movements are slow, a wince of pain on her face even as she tilts her head to brush a kiss across his scratched and burned fingertips.
A jumbled collection of thoughts crowd his mind, push against each other in steady succession. He thinks -
This is all my fault. I thought I was keeping you safe. I didn’t think you would follow me. I don’t know what I would have done if you had died.
He closes his eyes briefly, then opens them and leans forward to brush the blood-matted hair from her face.
“I’m sorry, Abby,” he says, an apology to a conversation they never stop having. He thinks of the crawling, desperate feeling of hopelessness when he felt her go limp in his arms. The wretched reality of a life without her. He thinks of their situations reversed - him lying heavy in her arms, him bleeding out over her, him leaving her.
Him leaving her.
(Maybe you should stop leaving her.)
He swallows thickly.
“I shouldn’t have left you.”
He leans over their clasped hands and whispers I love you over and over again; a penitent mouthing a prayer of forgiveness to the only god he’s ever worshiped.
“I won’t leave you behind. I never will again. We’re in this together, no matter what.”
So, my mom and I were on at the same time and thought we’d try our hand at Throne of Thunder since we’re both 110 and we can. It was a breeze for the most part except for, ironically, that stupid wind bridge. We got past it but it was a pain and we got knocked off a few times.
So, while we’re dealing with this bridge my cat, seeing an opportunity, steals a cheese puff and eats it right in front of me. Somehow she knew I was helpless to defend my snacks and if I tried I would die.
She has never done this before and I am so impressed and offended right now, damn.
No Yasuke, No development for Mukuro, No Ryouko, Mukuro calling Makoto a loser, Not seeing Makoto smiling at Mukuro, Mukuro offering to kill Makoto, complete ignorance of DR0/DR:IF, "If I kill anybody I'll make sure it isn't you" negation, Mukuro getting a shoe to the butt that wasn't Makoto's, I'm pretty upset with ep 11 and the lack of development for the character that has so much mystery and walks the line of hope and despair and no nod to Mukuro's feelings towards hope or Naegi. Ship down
Things I wanted to see:
Yasuke Matsuda (for more than one screenshot)
Ryouko Otonashi (I thought we were going to have a DR0 ep!)
SDR2 kids falling to despair one by one personally
Naegi smiling at Mukuro (okay this was a longshot but still)
But hey, at least we have:
Gotta catch them all first episode
the SDR2 kids just chilling and playing videogames
An even more despair-inducing way of how the SDR2 kids fell to despair
Student Council killing game
Mukuro vs Pekoyama
Izuru crying (yes, break my heart)
I hear you, buddy. I’m pretty upset with episode 11′s characterization of Mukuro. But you have to remember that DR3 isn’t about Mukuro so we’re not supposed to get character development for her. Although I must admit that their characterization is upsetting because 11 hit an all-time low. But that’s not going to stop me from shipping naekusaba.
Ship down? Ha! My love for this ship will keep it sailing!!
Canon? Who cares? Everyone’s free to ship whoever they want. Sure, it being canon is great and all but there’s also something special to shipping the underdog pairs. If anyone jumped ship then that’s fine too. Meanwhile, I’ll just be here giving hope to my homies with more fanfics.
“Did you die”
“I’ll take that as a yes”
“Are you leaving again? If you are can you at least tell me? It sucks to be left hanging….”
“I guess that’s a yes. Well that hurts.”
“I honestly really miss talking to you and being left hanging sucks. I wish you would’ve at least told me you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I’ll try to not bother you after this.”
All sent from me to a boy I liked and who I thought liked me. The first message was a joke because I thought he was just taking a long time to respond. I sent these messages throughout a 2-3 week period of time, the last one being sent yesterday. He had stopped talking to me out of nowhere once before but promised he wouldn’t do it again and I thought we were on the course to having a relationship. I guess I was naive for trusting he wouldn’t hurt me again.
Nobody told me that there would be days like these. I thought we were too young to conquer half of the things we’ve been through but I guess we made it. And is it guilty of me to think that we deserve some good after all the shit we’ve been through?
where are you guuuuyyyyyyssss?? where's sbjjjjjjj? what's happeninggggg???
Whoops! Sorry, got busy there. But! Let me tell you something I just realized like thirty minutes ago
I read this fic maybe three, four years ago? Yeah. Something like that. And just now - just thirty minutes ago, I realized
“But to give you all a real idea of the sorts of discussions Plato’s works were based on, I thought we could have our own Socratic dialogue, right here in class,” she stated with a mischievous grin. Class discussion led by Blossom. Brick sighed. Great. A number of students perked up, eager to participate.
“So someone should start us off with a question,” Blossom urged.
A girl seated next to Brick spoke up. “What is love?”
"Baby, don’t hurt me,” someone called out, and everyone laughed.
This is from that song. THAT SONG.
God. How could I have missed that??
But! To answer your question - we (and by ‘we’ I mean ‘I’ because idk bout sbj or blog-mod) got busy. I’ll answer some asks tomorrow and check out the tag, so look forward to that!
why are we all talking about math, I thought we were 1D blogs
me trying to figure out how many times 1d has lied: if u add 3736282873 (the amount of times they’ve lied) by 463783 (the amount of times they’ve lied and we haven’t found out yet) then you would get by a calculator definition 3,736,764,656 (three billion seven hundred thirty six million seven hundred sixty four thousand six hundred fifty six)
did i ever tell ppl about the time me and my family thought my older brother was gay and dating his best friend? they used to hold hands and cuddle and shit all the time and cause my brothers super quiet we kinda just thought that was him coming out and didn’t really say anything about it. this went on for maybe two yrs and then one day he arrives home with this girl and is all ‘id like you guys to meet my girlfriend’. at this point everyone is ’????’ and my mom is literally crying and like 'u broke up with James?!?!?!’ and honestly I’ve never seen a man more confused in his life and yeah that’s the time my family fucked up for like 2 yrs