if its to put her down again

2.2 - Scary

Sierra looked up at the indifferent face of the armor. “Hi there. How’s it going? Why are you all-” She was cut off by the armor grabbing her, tossing her over its shoulder, and starting to march back toward Jack. “Hey! Put me down!”

Sean recognized the enemies now that he saw them in action. He wondered if he could take over one of the guards, but decided against it.  So he floated above them, knowing that they were headed to the one thing that could stop them.

“Oh no, you’re gonna activate the resonator again, aren’t you? No! Don’t do it! I’ll- aaaaaah!” Sierra screamed as the guards started crossing the bridge. She struggled against their grip, but wasn’t getting very far. “Jack! Help!”

Jack awoke with a snort and rolled onto his feet. His eyes zeroed in on the the guards, then flashed pink. He roared angrily.

He suddenly leaped forward and grabbed the guard holding Sierra, then dangled him upside down. Sierra lost her grip and fell into his outstretched palm. He set her on the ground next to the resonator.

Satisfied that she was no longer in danger, he let out a feral snarl and swiped up two of the guards in one hand while knocking the other two off the bridge with one of his legs. He crushed the two guards in his hand like an empty soda can and dropped them over the edge. The battle was over as soon as it started.

However, Jack continued to jump and roar. Sean recalled that Sierra needed to calm him down now.

“Oh! You’re all scared now! Okay, I’ll distract you!” Sierra ran up and jumped onto Jack’s tail, then climbed him until she got on the side of his head. She then scratched behind his ear and told him he was handsome.

Sean had to laugh, especially because it worked. Jack laid down in the middle of the bridge just to accept the affection and compliments.

“There ya go, big guy. Okay, so guards are bad- and to think I asked them to open the gate for me! Whatever, you did a good job. You’re scary sometimes, you know that?” Sierra rambled.

Jack purred.

“Awwww! Okay, now that you’re back to normal, let’s keep going. I don’t want you near here if that resonator activates again.” Sierra exclaimed. She climbed down his arm onto the ground and ran off into the next area.

Sean glanced at Jack and followed after. “Come on. She’s got a point.”

Sierra ran under an arch and looked around. “I see sunlight! Come on, Jack, let’s-” she cut off in mid-sentence, finding herself on a balcony. “Never mind. This doesn’t lead anywhere.”

Sean turned to go back and stopped, a chortle escaping him. Jack was trying to get his head through the archway. All he had to show for it was a mess of green hair and one broken horn. “Dude, what’re ya doing?”

Sierra ran back to where Sean was, also stopping in her tracks to laugh at Jack.

Sean briefly shuddered and moved- Sierra was standing halfway inside of his ghostly form, which felt as awkward and weird as it sounded.

“Are your horns growing back?” Sierra asked. She ran up to the single blue horn in the doorway and scratched at the base of it. Jack stopped his attempt to shove his way through and relaxed. Sierra ran her hand over the broken edge. “They are! That’s cool. Good job, buddy.”

She stood in silence for a moment. “Could you maybe move? Or do I have to shove you?”

Jack backed up and tilted his head so that all Sierra and Sean could see was one of his eyes. Sierra was about to run through the door but he squeezed his hand in instead, feeling around the dark tunnel.

Sierra sighed and placed a hand on her forehead. “Jack, why are you like this?”

Sean laughed. “I don’t know either, kid. Didn’t we agree to not question it?”

Both glanced up at the same time and saw a small ledge. Sean noted the array of wooden beams near the ceiling, and the chain leading up.

“I’ll find a way through for you, okay?” Sierra asked. She ran back to the room before the balcony. Sunlight shone through the hole where the chain led to, but she was clearly too short to jump up and grab it.

Jack scrabbled at the ground some more, and Sierra’s eyes followed from the chain to the beams Sean had seen, and back down to Jack’s hand. “Ah- oh. I see a way up. Maybe I can find a hole or something for Jack to go through.”

The hardest part of reaching the chain was getting up on Jack’s hand. He wanted to pull her back through to his side, so Sierra had to be quick about hopping up on him, then climbing the ledge before he had a chance to twist his hand to an angle he could grab her from.

Sean was rather impressed with her- it only took her four tries. He just had to float to follow her.

Sierra jumped and began walking across the beams. She held out her thin arms as she went, and took slow steps. “Man, why do I have to balance? I can’t balance. Okay, just…” she was rambling again, likely trying to calm her nerves.

Sean followed below her, hoping that if she fell through him, he could at least slow her fall. “Oh god, kid, please don’t fall.”

Sierra hopped over to the chain and began climbing. “Jack! I’ll be right back, okay?”

Sean went through the wall and related her message. “It’ll be alright, buddy. You’ll find each other again.” Then he went back to following Sierra.

She emerged into the sun from a old well. “Why is there a well here? It’s not like there was ever any water down there.” She asked. “Maybe they hauled stuff up from below. Like… a broken service elevator for those suits. Who knows?”

Sean paused, considering. That was actually a really good question, but Sierra was already running off. “Wait for me, kid!”

Sierra stopped for a moment. Her hand came up, pointing at something in front of her. “That’s the cage!” She ran up to the edge of the area. “JAAAAACKABOOOY!”

Sean watched over the edge. Jack appeared after several seconds, wearing an expression that loosely translated to, ‘Hey, how did you get up there? Can I get up there?“

“Jack! Hop up here! There’s plenty of room to run around, and- oh, let me get out of the way.” Sierra said, noting how Jack crouched.

It was a good thing that Sierra got out of his way, because the ground could barely hold his weight. It collapsed underneath his back legs, and he flung himself forward to keep his balance. One of his hands grabbed a raised edge and he used that to pull himself up.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Sierra asked.

Jack made a rumbling sound in the back of his throat. Then he suddenly ran off, excited to be out of the cramped space of the tunnel.

Sierra watched him for a minute or so. “Guess you are. You’re so majestic, you know?”

Sean positioned himself next to her. “Yeah. It’s weird to think that we’re the same person- aside from physical differences, I mean.”

Jack suddenly stopped and looked up. Then he started roaring, which reminded Sierra of her goal. She ran up to Jack’s side, looking up. The tower, mostly obscured by mist, loomed over them.

“It looks like a chess piece from this angle.” Sierra commented.

“I’ve never felt this threatened by a chess piece in my life.” Sean said.

Jack roared again.

“Alright, you win.” Sierra said, turning away and contemplating the courtyard. “Let’s find a way up.”

The Blue Room (missing 02x08 moment)

She weighed next to nothing in his arms. So fragile yet strong at the same time. They were breathing each other so deeply… The heat of the fire in their room had nothing on them. It was about comfort, it was about healing and it turned into so much more so fast. They were the extension of the fire at that moment.

“Let’s go bed.”

“Aye.”

Jamie slowly walked the distance between where they stood and the bed, like he was walking on clouds. His hands running from her backside to her thighs and just holding her up as he did, had left a trail of tingling sensation that Claire was still reeling from. She needed his big hands on her again, lighting up her every nerve. There was a time not long ago that she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel it, or wanted to feel it, or that she could. But only those hands, made for her, given to him for her, like he had once said, could heal her.

She was running her smooth delicate fingers on his nape and upper back, drawing patterns and words they could not utter, since breathing was turning into a hardship at this point. Claire needed out of her stays, she felt restrained. All she wanted was his weight on her, his burning hot skin against her. She wanted to feel his muscles and scars, to kiss them, to lick his perfect worked stomach. Tonight she was hungry for him in a way that only love filled with lust could explain. And he is mine.

How is this woman mine? Jamie asked himself that question many times and caging Claire with his toned arms atop the bed just reminded him yet again of the wonder of her love for him. That flushed beauty, her mouth semi-open for his kisses, her teasing eyes… He ran his nose along her neck and caught her lips. She tugged on his hair for dear life and her tongue came out to dance with his, to claim him. Like any person else could compare… If he could, he would be claimed like this every single day of his life.

And the flames went higher…

Jamie held himself up on his elbows, close to the precipice of losing balance altogether, as Claire started running her foot up his calf, lifting the kilt ever so slightly. Biting him gently on the lower lip, she released the auburn curls and sat on the mattress. Like on their wedding night, he helped her untie the restraining stays, and exactly like on their wedding night their gazes didn’t leave one another. Only difference was, the desire was stronger, the air was heavier.

After removing the stays, Claire unbuckled the kilt’s belt and maddeningly teasing, slowly removed the plaid in all his glorious folds aside. He was intensely ready himself. It overwhelmed all her senses like always. If it weren’t Jamie, this lack of control would have left Claire nervous, but it could never happen with Jamie… “Jamie.” She breathed.

“I’m here, Sorcha.”

He lifted her shift over her head, the sudden gush of cool air caused by the movement of it making her nipples stiffen. That and the dark blue gaze that didn’t fail to shake her to her core. She was still in her stockings, one loose and one still fastened with a flimsy pink tie. She made a move to take them off but he didn’t let her, holding her hands, he placed them around his neck again, while he ran his hands up her glorious round arse and held her tight around the waist, closer to him. Not one inch of room left to breathe anything else but the sweet scent of each other, enhanced by the flames that only went higher.

He started kissing and sucking on her neck, tasting her herbal sweetness, moving one hand to comb her curls away. The only sound in Jamie’s ears were Claire’s exquisite soft moans. Those sounds that made him go mad, also made him relinquish all his senses to her incredibly smooth skin. Moving to her lips again, the intense and slow kiss held a promise of contained words. Words that were not enough to describe the chemistry that happened between them in these moments. He wanted to watch her lose herself.

Feeling Jamie peeling his beautiful mouth away from her, Claire whimpered. He replied by putting his forehead against hers and swayed for a bit holding her in place. One hand tucked her hair behind her ear and a cheeky smirk came upon his face as he dragged his hands over her arms and laid down. She knew what he wanted. And she wanted to give it to him.

That bed and its magic blue quilt was their sanctuary, a place that held many whispers and sweet nothings, said in the dark of the night and in the fresh light of the dawn.

Jamie lay down and placed a hand on his wife, his goddess, guiding her to climb on top of him. The sensations was overwhelmingly satisfying, it was a lightning coursing through them, echoes of thunder reverberating through their limbs. Smiling at her, he put both hands on her shoulders as she started to rock. Slowly, he let his arms run along hers and up again. Their breathing was erratic.

She was supporting herself on him, the marble of his torso feeling like an anchor in a sea of blue quilt. “You feel so good, Jamie.”

“Mo nighean donn”, he said in a whisper like sob. “Don’t stop, Claire…” Moaning, their hearts and bodies rode each other. Jamie placed his hand in the center of Claire’s chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of her heart, slowly reaching for her ivory breasts, kneading and teasing her.

He loved watching her - her head dropping backwards as she started to lose herself in the moment - trying to remain “bodily sober” enough to see her face change a thousand beautifully different ways with their lovemaking, but he too was about to lose it as well.

Claire leaned forward gifting her breasts to him and Jamie thought heaven was upon him. Taking one nipple in his mouth, he sucked and softly bit and felt Claire shiver under her hands. She held his head with some force and if Jamie were to die for lack of air, he would have died one happy man.

“You’re so beautiful, Claire. Please don’t stop mo nighean donn, more.”  

“Oh Jamie, my love.”

Claire was starting to lose herself entirely, holding onto Jamie’s neck and shoulders wanting to kiss him, but not wanting him to take his mouth from where it was. Jamie groaned and sat up completely. She kissed him urging for his tongue to meet hers, trying to get into him and he was getting into her. So deep, so passionate, so so so much, but never enough.

Claire caressed his face, marveling at his furrowing brow, smoothing it, kissing it. They were still riding thunder as Jamie brought one hand down to touch the place, hot enough as to make metal melt, as to turn coal into diamond. Then, he buried his face in her neck, she burying her nails in his back, and ecstasy ensued. Together, they became one. Jamie kept his face on her neck, Claire was overdone with one long sob leaving her lips as the aftershocks came through. She couldn’t let go, she couldn’t breathe and neither could he.

After the lingering effects washed over them, Jamie held his well rested wife against him. She propped herself on her elbow, kissed and caressed his pecs and whispered, smiling, “Tha gaol agam ort, mo Seaumais”.

“‘Till our life should be done, my Claire.”

gifs © @suhailauniverse

(Thank you to the masters @suhailauniverse and @gotham-ruaidh for the advice and corrections <3 <3.)

kemmlerthekitschmaster  asked:

Can you elaborate more on how the Alys-Sigorn wedding was awesome and its like a baby that conquered the world? I just really like Alys/Sigorn and want to hear more about it.

Whew, where to begin? The Alys-Sigorn wedding is IMO a strong candidate for “best scene in the series,” and it’s probably exhibit A in the case for ADWD as the best book in that series (give or take Dany X and the dragontaming). It’s the surest sign that GRRM still knows what he’s doing and that the sedimentary layers of story are producing more powerful moments as he goes. It’s such a narratively dense event with so many resonances that you could spend days teasing it apart. Here’s just a brief overview.  

At one level, the wedding symbolizes and enacts the alliance between the Stark North and the Free Folk, presided over by the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch (himself having been raised in Winterfell, but also having ridden with the wildlings). It’s very ceremonial and ritualistic, GRRM taking his time setting it up and lingering on every detail so you really get what a momentous deal this is: a powerful wildling leader and the daughter of a significant Northern house joining to forge something new. This carries such weight with us because we’ve been living with this bitter divide and the knowledge of how longstanding and entrenched it is for multiple books. Climbing this hill seemed nigh-impossible back in ASOS when Stannis proposed it; now, we see a real ray of hope. And of course, this dovetails so beautifully with what happens at chapter’s end: the horn blast announcing Tormund Giantsbane’s arrival to cement that pact. 

This sense of harmonic resolution wouldn’t mean much, though, if it didn’t also extend to the bride and groom specifically. Alys coming to Jon (specifically as Ned’s son) and securing his help against Cregan and Arnolf marks a symbolic reconciliation between Houses Stark and Karstark. Instead of the latter house as an enemy, as they’ve been since early in ASOS, we now see them as a complex family riven by internal conflict, and there’s a chance to set things right. It helps, of course, that Alys is immediately one of the most lovable characters in the story: “Let him be scared of me.” As for Sigorn, his father died at Castle Black thanks to Jon’s defenses, and earlier in ADWD, Sigorn himself opposed assimilation to the point of threatening Jon’s life. Here, however, he brings the Thenns into the larger realm and makes a very moving peace–and of course he, too, is written to encourage empathy in the wedding scene, coming off nervous, awkward, and ultimately good-hearted. 

But what really makes this scene shine, undergirding and emphasizing all of the above, is the imagery. It…glows. 

And Melisandre said, “Let them come forth, who would be joined.” The flames cast her shadow on the Wall behind her, and her ruby gleamed against the paleness of her throat.

Jon turned to Alys Karstark. “My lady. Are you ready?”

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

“You’re not scared?”

The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart. “Let him be scared of me.”The snowflakes were melting on her cheeks, but her hair was wrapped in a swirl of lace that Satin had found somewhere, and the snow had begun to collect there, giving her a frosty crown. Her cheeks were flushed and red, and her eyes sparkled.

“Winter’s lady.” Jon squeezed her hand.

The Magnar of Thenn stood waiting by the fire, clad as if for battle, in fur and leather and bronze scales, a bronze sword at his hip. His receding hair made him look older than his years, but as he turned to watch his bride approach, Jon could see the boy in him. His eyes were big as walnuts, though whether it was the fire, the priestess, or the woman that had put the fear in him Jon could not say. Alys was more right than she knew.

“Who brings this woman to be wed?” asked Melisandre.

“I do,” said Jon. “Now comes Alys of House Karstark, a woman grown and flowered, of noble blood and birth.” He gave her hand one last squeeze and stepped back to join the others.

“Who comes forth to claim this woman?” asked Melisandre.

“Me.” Sigorn slapped his chest. “Magnar of Thenn.”

“Sigorn,” asked Melisandre, “will you share your fire with Alys, and warm her when the night is dark and full of terrors?”

“I swear me.” The Magnar’s promise was a white cloud in the air. Snow dappled his shoulders. His ears were red. “By the red god’s flames, I warm her all her days.”

“Alys, do you swear to share your fire with Sigorn, and warm him when the night is dark and full of terrors?”

“Till his blood is boiling.” Her maiden’s cloak was the black wool of the Night’s Watch. The Karstark sunburst sewn on its back was made of the same white fur that lined it.

Melisandre’s eyes shone as bright as the ruby at her throat. “Then come to me and be as one.” As she beckoned, a wall of flames roared upward, licking at the snowflakes with hot orange tongues. Alys Karstark took her Magnar by the hand.

Side by side they leapt the ditch.

“Two went into the flames.” A gust of wind lifted the red woman’s scarlet skirts till she pressed them down again. “One emerges.” Her coppery hair danced about her head. “What fire joins, none may put asunder.”

This is hope rendered in radiant red and gold; this is what endgame looks like. We saw it, just a flash of it, as their leap (like Theon and Jeyne’s, several chapters later) reached its apex. This leap over the flames and everything that goes with it exists in defiance of the Long Night, in spite of the army of the dead. It’s a fire to circle around, a well from which to draw strength, and a foundation for what comes next. House Thenn’s sigil is appropriate; they represent the Dawn.

Jaal x FemRyder

I don’t have a title for this, and probably not going to write any more on it (though I may use the idea for one of my other Ryders; this is totally something my Nell would do). This was written for @elenielwen‘s prompt, requesting a fic where Sara jumps in front of Akksul’s bullet rather than killing him or letting Jaal get shot. Just a very quick one-off, I’d probably rate it PG, just because of the shooting.

Under a cut because it’s a little long (1000-ish words):

Keep reading

apanoplyofsong  asked:

OKAY I think I finally came up with an actual prompt?? Something to the effect of "we adopted a pet together and now my mom/whoever definitely thinks we're dating whoops"

10/10 any prompt with pets in it is an excellent prompt. hope you like it and thanks for being such a great friend! (ao3)


The thing about Bellamy Blake, as Clarke well knows, is that he’s incapable of not caring for things smaller and more defenseless than he is. Not when he could help instead. She knew this when he moved in with her. She knew it from the first time he gave drunk Raven a piggyback the whole way home.

What she didn’t know was how it would affect her life once he becomes her roommate.

It starts innocently enough, with Bellamy hanging a bird feeder on the balcony after he finds a nest built into a crevice there.

“How much research did you do last night?” Clarke asks, amusedly interrupting his verbal pros-and-cons rundown of different models at Home Depot. She’d come along in part because she thinks it’s funny, how worried he is about these birds who can ostensibly take care of themselves.

(She’d also come along because it’s really cute, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“I may have looked at a few comparison charts online,” he admits, smiling sheepishly. “I don’t want to spend good money on something that isn’t going to work the way I want it to.”

“I didn’t know there was a wrong way a bird feeder could work.”

“Hence the research.”

She shakes her head fondly and taps the smallest option. “Just get this one. We’re looking to feed one family, not the whole forest.”

He stares for another moment, then nods and starts putting the rest of the boxes back on the shelf.

“How come you’re never this decisive when we’re picking a restaurant for dinner?”

“My muse is fickle, Bellamy.”

“Uh-huh.”

Keep reading

ficlet: aggression

dealanexmachina said: 

“trini has a very aggressive way of fighting” - Talk to me about Trini being tiny, being Latina, being a woman, being a not straight child of her traditionalist parents, and just *different* - and how that manifests in her fighting style. Tell me about how she pours all of her feelings into her fights, and because that’s what happens when someone like Trini suddenly becomes strong enough to crush a boulder with her tiny fist. Then tell me how it compares to Kimberly’s fight style, how it's lifts and assists and support like cheerleading would have taught her, but also bending and dodging because that’s how she’s learned to navigate the pressures of her parents and being one of the popular kids in school. How Kimberly’s sense of self is rooted in fear of one’s power and her journey to realize just how much power she wields and how much damage she can inflict or support and protection she can give is paralleled in both sides of her life. Talk to me about how as Rangers, Trini is all aggression, and Kimberly is all feints and dodges, but as teenagers, in the halls of high school, it’s flipped. Because Trini is the one who blends in the shadows while Kimberly engages in public shows and confrontation. Talk to me about what happened to that cut scene with Trini in front of the locker that had hateful language written all over it, and what they do now. Talk to me about how their fighting styles end up complimenting each other because for the first time, they’re depending on each other. How dodges and parries work in tandem with forceful attacks and blunt force that doesn’t back down. Talk to me about their fight styles start to bleed into each other as they learn from each other, inside of training and outside as they learn to stand up for each other and themselves. Talk to me about all the fighting metaphors and styles for Trini and Kimberly, please.

They shouldn’t match up. Anger vs. fear. Punch vs. dodge. Running at the problem vs. running full-tilt away. They shouldn’t make a solid pair.

Keep reading

Tortured Nights

Pairing: Fuckboy!Theo Raeken x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of sex

Trigger Warnings: Eating disorder

Request: Can I get a fuckboy theoX bestfriend were she’s in love with him and they live together so she gets tortured by him having sex with other girls and she starts fading away from him and develops a eating disorder? Sorry if thats to much. Please&thank you.

A/N: Sorry it took a while, its just that writer’s block is a thing and school has been tiring. Sorry


Keep reading

CSSV Fic: Happenstance (full version)

A/N: For @killiarious. Thank you for your patience, love! Here is the full version of your gift. Again, it was lovely chatting and please feel free to swing by to chat more any time you like! Thanks also to @tnlph and @mryddinwilt for providing the initial inspiration for this story from this convo a year ago.  

Summary: He was just trying to escape everything. She wasn’t part of his plan.

Words: 3400 | Rating: M | ao3

+++

He should thank Liam, he knew it. He wouldn’t need to leave the flat, minus the initial trip to the market, for days. There were enough books, along with wine and rum, to last him for weeks. And the view, Killian still wasn’t sure there were words.

Good god, brother. The pictures you sent weren’t enough.

I know. Don’t skulk your entire stay. The city is better up close.

Killian rolled his eyes. He was almost grateful when he found out his brother would be out of town when he sent his plea for a place to crash. He needed to be away from Tink, away from town, their apartment. From everything, really. And while he hadn’t seen Liam since his transfer to Istanbul, the prospect of the judgement in his eyes, even as he would welcome him in, was more than Killian thought he could bear.

Liam sent him instructions on where he could pick up a set of keys and a warning that he promised a friend a place to stay later in the week while she was in town for a job.

And stay as long as you like, little brother. I’m due home in a couple weeks.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Are you sure about this? - make it fluffy! 🤗

“Are you sure about this?” Mulder’s voice is warm and quiet, causing Scully to open her eyes; she must have dozed off about the same time as William, who is no longer in her arms, but right next to her in his crib.

“Hm?” Scully stretches, feels the exhaustion and soreness through her whole body and blinks at him. Mulder is holding something in front of her face. Another moment, another blink, and she recognizes William’s birth certificate.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks again with more emphasis.

“I thought we talked about it,” Scully swallows hard; her emotions are all over the place, clearly not where they should be – in check – and she feels tears well up, “You said it was fine. I can change his last name to Scully, just give me a-” another, louder sniff, “pen.”

“What? Scully, no. I’m not talking about his last name.” Mulder assures her, one of hi hands on her cheek, the other on her thigh. They’re wearing matching expressions of confusion.

“I’m talking about this.” Mulder points to the line with William’s first and middle name. 

“Oh.“ 

“Exactly, ‘oh’. So now tell me, are you sure about this? I said you could pick the name but Scully,” he bites his lip, trying to convey his message without having to actually say it. Much to his chagrin, she starts to smile.

“I like the name.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do. You just never let me call you F-” he puts a finger on her lips, raises his eyebrow, and receives a small kiss in return.

“It’s a strange name, Scully. It never did me any good.”

“It’s a middle name, Mulder.”

“Your heart is set on this, isn’t it?” She nods, her smile turning into a grin. Mulder leans over to look at their sleeping son. William Fox Mulder.  He wants to put his foot down, scratch out Fox and leave the space empty. But he trusts Scully. She knows what she’s doing, no matter what it is, so he remains quiet. Tries the name out again in his mind. William Fox Mulder. His son, their son. Mulder turns back to her and nods, sealing his and little Will’s fate.

“If he ever complains about his middle name, you’re explaining it to him.” Scully kisses him softly. It’s a deal.

7

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS I NEED ANSWERED IN TONIGHTS EPISODE

1. In the first picture, this looks like it’s after homecoming, its shitty for them to still be making out if Betty is ACTUALLY jealous

2. In the second picture Betty looks more hurt and scared than anything, this doesn’t look like jealous Betty to me.

3. Will Jughead ever apologize for the hurtful things he said to Betty during their fight? Is he going to yell at her again? They’ve got enough people putting them down, come on you two, pull it together.

4. Will someone finally address that Hal breaking in and stealing Sheriff Kellers evidence is an actual crime and that something should be done about that?

5. Will Jughead finally tell Archie that there’s been more than just “a moment” between Betty and himself.

6. Will Jughead be angry at Betty for keeping something a secret from him when he is also keeping Archie and Veronica’s secret from her?

7. WHY THE HELL DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO ALIENATE BETTY?! SHE JUST WANTS TO HELP.

Coming up this week on the CWs Riverdale!😉😉😉😉

“Excuse Me”

Summary: Soulmate!AU where first words are tattooed on wrist- Y/N hates the words on her wrist knowing that she may never meet her true soulmate. If fate didn’t want to give her a perfect, neat, assured happy ending, then she would be sure to raise a little hell on her way there.

Pairing: Preserum!Steve x Reader 

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1895

Originally posted by yikesevans

Keep reading

The Youngest Member

Prompt: Imagine being the youngest member of the Suicide Squad and the team being protective of you.


Just a short little something

———-

You groan at Killer Croc picks you up and puts you behind him again, “Waylon!”

“I told you to stay behind me. Floyd told you to stay in the back”

You snarl and unfurl your whip, “I’m on this team for a reason!”

“Calm down, Honey! We know you can kill people! But you’re just a baby!” Harley shouts, using her bat to hit another creature.

Instead of saying anything else, you snap out your whip coiling it around the neck of another creature and ripping its head clean off. “I’m not a baby, just ‘cause I’m younger than the rest of you, doesn’t mean I can’t hold my own”

“Come one, Little Badass, you know we can protect you! You don’t even have to fight!” Floyd yelled, still shooting.

You just tighten your grip your whip, snapping it up to wrap around a light post, and spring boarding off of Waylon’s back, throwing yourself in the middle of the fight. You use your whip and knives to tear the creatures apart, literally. The fight is over when Floyd jumps on top of the cop car and takes down everyone else. You carefully coil your whip back up, careful to avoid the sharp parts, and tie it back to your hip.

“I thought I told you to stay back!” Rick shouted, getting right in your face, “You were ordered to stay behind Killer Croc! You disobeyed orders! Do you want me to blow your head off!!”

Suddenly Harley is between the two of you, her teeth bared at Rick, and Floyd has a gun to his head, even Waylon has his claws out, George has a boomerang at Ricks throat, and Chato looms nearby, “Ya don’t get to talk to our girl like that, Mister Rick, you should know that by now” Harley growled

“Whiplash is on this team for a reason, Cupcake. We all are, so let her do her job” Floyd growled

“You’re the one who first ordered her to stay back” Rick snarled, putting his hands up, and taking a step away from everyone.

“I told her to stay close to someone, just in case she needed help. She hasn’t had as much experience as most of us here, I wanted her to have back-up. I never told her to hide behind one of us.”

“Guys!” You shout, drawing everyone’s attention, “While I’m flattered that you all care so much, it would be a lot better if found cover. We need to get our target, and then we can get out of here”

“Pipsqueak is right, boys. I think these thinks are movin’” Harley said, sauntering away.

“This is gonna be a long mission” you groan, starting to follow the older woman.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N”

You turn to glance at Waylon, for some reason he had appointed himself your guardian, “Thanks, you overgrown lizard”

Floyd chuckled at your name calling, nudging you with his gun, “Go catch up to, Harley. I need someone to keep an eye on her while I figure out what we’re doing next”

You wave them off, jogging to catch up to the crazy woman, who had taken to hitting one of the creatures with her bat. “I swear it moved!”

like in a movie

Originally posted by ramonafflowers

A/N: i felt really lonely writing this but its okay :-) requests are open!!

request: yep!

pairing: christoffer & Y/N

words: 743

warning: disgustingly full of fluff

gif isn’t mine


The moment Chris asked Y/N to be his girlfriend was the happiest moment of her life. No more games where one would constantly get hurt, they’d stop talking and make up sooner or later. Everyone knew they had feelings for each other, but they were too negligent to admit it at first.

Y/N’s friends were thrilled when she told them they were dating, earning a few high fives from some random people. Obviously some other girls felt incredibly jealous seeing the two holding hands and sneaking a few kisses every now and then. They didn’t care though.

Their relationship had been nothing but dancing on roses. There were constantly cheating rumors, once in a while they’d actually believe them and feel stupid afterwards. There was fighting about who was right when it came to Isak’s love life (Chris was convinced he liked Even, she on the other hand were sure that it was Jonas). Their fights were stupid ones, but they always made it through.

They had a silent contract that strictly stated that Fridays was the night for sleepovers, just the two of them cuddling and telling stupid jokes to one an other. Today was no different.

”Y/N, you should really stop spending your nights searching for memes and then texting them to me, you don’t sleep enough. It does make me feel kinda special when you text me those memes at 1AM” Chris said, sweetly playing with her hair.

They were sitting on the floor with a bowl of popcorn between their legs, a cheesy movie playing in the background. Chris was holding her close to him, making her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

”Mmm, but you are my special boy. I only text them to you because I think they’d make you smile. I’m quite fond of it actually.” Y/N’s eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling of Chris playing with her hair.

Moments like these were the one’s they cherished the most, just the two of them hanging out enjoying each other’s presence. None of Chris’ friends making comments about how he gets lucky every day, none of Y/N’s friends teasing her about how much she actually liked him.

”Yeah? Wouldn’t want to deprive you of it then.”

A few moments passed before Y/N turned around, now sitting on his lap with her arms behind his neck. She looked at his plump lips before he leaned in capturing hers in a sweet kiss. The kiss went on for a few moments, until she could feel he was smiling. She pulled back with a questioning look.

”You do realize we diss these movies and now we’re practically remaking one of its scenes?”

”It’s quite disgusting actually.” Y/N said once again looking into his eyes. There was something really mesmerizing about him, she couldn’t quite figure out exactly what though. She couldn’t believe he was actually hers. Out of all the girls who dreamed of settling down with him, she was the one he chose.

”I like being disgusting with you, I like it way too much actually and it scares me a little.” Chris sighed, putting a strand of her hair behind her ear and afterwards caressing her cheek.

”You’re so cheesy, where’s the guy I fell in love with?” Y/N said laughing for a bit before realization hit her. She just told him that she was in love with him. Hell, she didn’t even know herself she was in love with him before saying those words out loud.

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, anxiously chewing on it waiting for Chris to said that he didn’t feel the same way. She was staring at her lap, too nervous to look up.

Chris was shocked at first, but then excitation took over him. He softly lifted her face up before closing the gap between them. Their lips moved in sync, both feeling incredibly relieved.

This wasn’t like their other kisses, it was sweet and slow and it felt in every way possible different. Chris’ brain was screaming him to leave before he gets too caught up to avoid possible heartbreak. Instead he stayed there, kissing her.

They pulled away breathless. A few moments of silence passed before Chris spoke up again, leaving Y/N feel incredibly happy.

”I think the guy you fell in love with has become incredibly cheesy due to his girlfriend who he loves very much.”

3

*stretches and gets ready for a long, polite response*

And you missed my points, but that’s fine, online miscommunications happen due to lack of tone and intent. I apologize if I sound defensive about Angela, because I immediately assumed that your problem was with the ship and her assumed (and now canonically proven wrong) involvement with Genji’s cyborg weaponization process. Possibly because of how hostile you sounded. I still get the hostile vibes but for the sake of clarification and explaining things as politely as possible, I will try to keep mine civil in return in hopes we all reach an understanding. 

And because this post is now super long, a readmore is actually required :>

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Yes!!! I want to hear more about vampires! Thank you!

Other vampire posts from my blog:

  1. Info
  2. Ask
  3. Protection
  4. Tarot
  5. Highgate Vampire
  6. Children of Judas
  7. Tag

Vampires in the UK

There have been over 200 vampire sightings in the UK during the past 100 years (more than Transylvania), one of the most famous examples being the Highgate Vampire (although the British occultist David Farrant who was present during the numerous vampire hunts of the 1970s claims that the spirit roaming the cemetery was more demonic in nature rather than a vampire, whereas Seán Manchester claims it really was a vampire, and even managed to photograph the vampire as it finally got staked). 

In David Farrant best selling book on the subject, Beyond the Highgate Vampire, David claims that ley lines, may be an important factor that has been left completely out of the Highgate equation. These lines, he says, can actually transmit psychic energy along their course and enable the vampire to materialise when the right conditions prevail. One such ley line, he points out, apparently begins in the middle of Highgate Cemetery at a large circle of tombs called the Circle of Lebanon, crosses through the Flask and Ye Olds Gatehouse pubs (both ancient pubs only yards from Highgate Cemetery); traverses a large block of council flats known as Hillcrest (themselves built upon the site of an ancient nunnery) and passes through an old Roman Settlement a quarter of a mile or so away in Highgate Woods which is marked by an old beech tree.

For without exception, all the locations on the Highgate ley line, were reportedly haunted by a ’tall black figure’ which, even when it was not actually seen, it caused dramatic drops in temperature, clocks to simultaneously stop, objects to fly from shelves or mysteriously shatter, and which also had a dramatic effect upon animals in it’s immediate vicinity.

Other sightings in the UK:

  • Alnwick Castle (Northumberland) - During the 1100s, a  vampire that once frequented this castle, a one time lord of the estate, lived underneath it and would emerge at night to attack the local villagers. An outbreak of plague was also attributed to the unholy creature, and this resulted in the villagers digging the monster up from its shallow grave and burning it.
  • Blandford Forum (Dorset) - (1800s) a corrupt manservant who stole thousands of pounds from his employer, William Doggett finally killed himself, and now drives his phantom horse and carriage along this area. One local story says he returned as a vampire; after his body was exhumed many years after his death (from St Mary’s Church in Tarrant Gunville) it was found to be uncorrupted, with a rosy tint to the cheeks.
  • Croglin (Cumbria) - In 1875, an old house had been rented out to a woman and two brothers, Amelia, Edward and Michael Cranswell. During one summer, Amelia was trying to sleep when a strange creature appeared at her window and began picking out the lead surrounding one of the window panes with a long fingernail, then removing it and putting its hand through the resulting gap to undo the window latch and let itself in. It was described as having a brown face and flaming eyes. The vampire bit her in the throat. When her brothers came into the room, the monster was gone. While one brother tried to help his sister, the other went after the creature. After a trip to Switzerland, the three returned to Croglin Grange and the creature returned again. The brother shot it in the leg and was able to track it down to a vault in the local cemetery. They waited until the next day to enter the vault, where they found the body of the vampire, with a fresh wound to the leg, resting inside a coffin. They then burned it.
  • Lochmaben Castle (Scotland) - During the early 1990s, Tom Robertson investigated the woods after hearing stories that animals had been found drained of their blood. He encountered a tall figure dressed in sacking with a hood over its head, which black eyes and grey face. The creature leapt into a tree and swung away. Eight years later Robertson went looking for the creature again, finding it and taking a couple of photographs

From my experience, vampires who have been around longer tend to look more naturally human in appearance, particularly if the spirits have gained enough energy to materialise in a fuller form. It is noted within folklore that vampires first start off as dark blobs or shadows before developing into a humanoid form. Being around vampire spirits can cause bruising on the skin, particularly on the neck if they “feed” on you. Vampire spirits are definitely ones that are more fond of physical contact, and it can be common for them to assault you (either sexual or physical violence), depending on the individual spirit. Vampires are fond of crystals that aid in blood disorders or circulation, particularly if they are dark red. If you work with vampire spirits it is better to use these as offerings rather than blood itself, which can pose all sorts of dangers - the biggest one being giving the vampire enough power to materialise physically for longer states of time, and moreover, power over you and your body

anonymous asked:

I do agree with you that the additional abuse moment wasn't good for Nanaba OR her character. Anime-only people might only remember her as the girl who got abused (since final moments leave great impressions), and it pisses me off that people won't remember her for her bravery. However, I don't think it has anything to do with sexism. If it was any other character, I would still feel the same since it takes away from the character themself. Can you go into more detail into the sexism part?

Sure, I definitely try to go into more detail. This topic is actually more difficult to understand and explain because I’m not talking about an overt, purposeful example of sexism. This isn’t a someone at the studio writing the script and declaring in their most maniacal creeper voice “WOMEN ARE SO WEAK LET ME SHOW YOU HOW WEAK THEY ARE WEEABO WORMS”!

This is about pervasive, latent sexism in culture and language. 

Its about how we as people the world over have been taught certain thoughts and presentations about women are OK when they are actually micro-aggressions. Its about how even you, Anon, used the term “girl” to imply a weaker character instead of “woman” (and please understand, I not calling you sexist with this example). By the way, why does the term “girl” imply a weaker character? Why is a younger female less strong than an older female?

My point is that we are so used to sexism in our media sometimes we don’t recognize it in more subtle forms. Why did Nanaba have to be the character with the abused past?  Why couldn’t that have gone to Gelgar? It would make more sense to me that he would have a hallucination because he had severe head trauma. Yet he gets to go out the hero with the dark humor of not getting his last drink. Nanaba’s heroism gets over-shadowed now, as you’ve mentioned, by just being the abused girl. Even Mike, as awful as his death was, got more honor by continuing to proverbially stand up until the end.

By giving that plot point to the female character, there is also a subtle sense of the woman being put back in her place. In your youth you were put down and now in your death you’ll be put back down too. Not an INTENTIONAL message being sent, the authors likely just wanted to make it as horrible a death as possible. But that message still exists in that interaction regardless.

Does any of this make sense? Latent sexism is hard to explain unless you analyze discourse and conversation because we’ve been taught its “normal”. The fact that a woman screaming in her death throws about “Father please I won’t do it again” is normal enough that we consider it character development is what makes it latent sexism. The fact that the choice to make it the woman character is completely fine, or to include it at ALL really, is what makes it problematic. And deeply disturbing if you think about it.

I hope that helps!

anonymous asked:

(Assuming Cal & Mare got married) AU of Cal meeting their daughter's boyfriend for the very first time. Protective?

AYYYYY Let’s Gooooo!!!!!! Gather round iiiiiiiiitttttsssss STORY TIME!!!!!!!!!

“Tell me you are not going to sit on the porch the whole time and wait for this guy to come back.” Mare said with a huff as she leaned against the doorway of the townhouse we had taken up residence in after the war. I drummed my fingers on my knee, staring down the street in the direction they would come from. I had told her to be back by ten, it was ten oh five and she was not back yet. She knew better than to be late when I told her a time. 

Mare’s fingers came to rest on my shoulders and digging her thumbs into my back, she went to massage out the knots there, teasing, “So protective.”

“You said he showed up on a cycle.”

“I remember another young man who took me out on a cycle too.” Mare said with a laugh as she pressed a featherlight kiss on the top of my head. “Relax, she’s seventeen years old, she can handle herself. Besides, I was invading Harbor Bay and sleeping in the same bed as you when I was her age.”

“She’s not you though.” I reply, watching that same spot at the end of the street. Mare snorted at my response and then flicking me in the back of the head, she said, “Don’t make a scene and embarrass her. I’m sure the two of them were having fun and lost track time, it happens.”

“I told her ten at the latest, she knows the rules.”

“And rules are made to be broken. Calm your jets Cal, you’ll burn the street down if you dont.” Mare continues teasing as she sank down next to me on the steps leading up to the porch. “Ye of so little faith,” she said with a smile as she nudged me with her shoulder, “Do you honeslty have no trust in our daughter what so ever?”

“It’s her first…guy. Girls do stupid things when they’re with a guy for the first time like that.”

“Yeah they do, I remember trying to get you to choose me over a kingdom.”

“That’s beside the point.”

She laughed out loud at my avoidance, and then nudging me again, she nodded to the end of the street and said, “there, she’s back, now you can relax and put the shot gun away.”

“I dont have one to put away in the first place.” 

“You know what I mean.” Mare rolled her eyes as she rose from the step and smiled as the cycle came to an awkward stop in front of us. I physically grimaced as he slammed on the brakes after not letting the cycle slow down on its own. The jerk from the motion surely damaging the delicate wires and springs that worked the brakes. Did he honestly not know how to stop properly, after supposedly riding for years? According to our daughter, he was a natural rider,  and she had gushed about it for almost an hour at the dinner table a week ago when she had agreed to go on the date. She’d looked at me the whole time, her eyes shining, and in the end, she’s said, “maybe you guys can talk about it. You can show him what you’re working on dad, he likes to fix things too!” 

Well if this is how he treated what he worked on, I didn’t want to see how he worked on it. 

Climbing off the back, our daughter pulled the helmet off and shook out her dark brown hair. She glanced up at us, only to grimace for a second before giving her mother and me a half hearted wave. On the front of the cycle, the boy pulled his own helmet off and ran his fingers through his ashy blond hair. He was tall, from what I could see, and lanky. I had yet to meet him too, mostly because I had come home after our daughter had left. Conveniently, Mare had teased when I’d gotten home and had asked where our daughter was.

The boy smiled up at our daughter and said something, and only got what looked like a nasty comment about us in response. He laughed at whatever she had to say and then got off the cycle. I rose from me seat on the steps then, and he blinked for a moment, surprised, before he followed her up to the steps. He only came up to my chin, from what I could tell, which was more than tall enough. He looked like he didn’t even weight a hundred pounds soaking wet though. I was surprised he hadn’t been lifted off the cycle by the wind. 

Glancing at the two of us, our daughter narrowed her eyes and then said to me,   “Be nice dad, Colton didn’t do anything.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” I replied coolly as I nodded up to the front door, “You’re back late too young lady, I said ten.”

Rolling her eyes at my tone, she passed between us and said, “It’s ten ten, I’m not that late.” With that, she gave Colton a smile and then pushed her hair behind her ear before giving him a shy goodbye. He gave her a crooked grin in response that made my stomach turn and my blood boil. As if he sensed the rising heat, he dropped the smile. 

Mare sighed at the spectacle. Then, walking up the steps, she linked arms with our daughter before leading her into the house, already chatting away with her, determined to get every detail of the date. From the sound of it, it had been quite fun, and something our daughter seemed more than comfortable talking about. 

“I’m sorry I brought her back so late…sir. I have trouble with my cycle.” Colton said softly, while his fingers fidgeted at his side. Leaning against the railing of the steps, I raised my brow and replied, “Oh?”

“Yes sir, but it’s fine, she’s fine, your daughter that is…no major problems, sir.” He floundered for a moment before glancing over his shoulder at his cycle like he could make it grow wings to get him out of here even faster. He drummed his fingers on his helmet in the silence that followed his comment and with a weak voice he spoke again, “You have a very beautiful daughter, sir. She told me all about you and her mother.”

“Then I’m sure she told you exactly what her mother and I are capable of?”

He swallowed visibly, and then seemed to try and shrink in size. “She didn’t have to sir, I-I knew from the moment I picked her up.”

“Good, and I suggest you keep in mind exactly what her mother and I are capable of when you decide it will be fun to break our daughter’s heart.” 

He blinked stupidly for a moment and then nodding eagerly he replied, “Yes sir, I won’t forget sir.” He took a few steps back before turning and hurrying to his cycle. He struggled to start it for a solid minute. The engine stalled every time he tried to kick start it. Sighing, I pushed off the railing and said over my shoulder, “Release the clutch.”

I heard the engine roar to life, and glancing up at me, he gave me a tiny nod before speeding off, practically swerving with the speed. When I turned around fully, I was met with my daughter’s glower. She stood in the doorway to the house, her arms crossed, and her lips drawn into a tight line. 

“I swear, if he doesn’t call me back dad, I’m blaming you.” 

“I hope he doesn’t call back.”

“Why would you say that, I LIKE HIM!”

“No daughter of mine is going to date a boy who doesn’t know how to start the cycle he built and has supposedly been riding for years.” 

Inside, I could hear Mare howling with laughter. 

AWWWWWWW, some cute fluff. I like to think that if they were to get married, eventually Mare and Cal would be able to joke about everything that happened. Also, if you maybe missed the joke because I didn’t clarify it, Colton had almost no idea how to ride a cycle. The joke being that he did it to try and impress their daughter (who I dont want to name cause ugh names are hard), and absolutely did not count on the fact that Cal would know how to ride one. XD Anyway, terrible dad meeting boyfriend for the first time jokes aside, i found this one super fun. Keep the prompts coming!!!!! (((: 

Like Limbs and Hearts, Entwined (Prologue)

Summary:  When the woven birch crown appears in the Sacred Grove, the village elders know that The God of Field and Forest, The Lord of the Ancient Wood, has decided to take a Bride.  The most beautiful girl in the village, chosen by him and blessed with his grace, is to perform the marriage rites on the First Summer Moon, thus ensuring a bountiful harvest and continued prosperity for the community…  And you are so very certain and so very thankful that it could never be you!  

–This prologue takes place about ten years or so before the events of the main fic.

A/N:  The summary is a little… meeeeeh, so we’ll see if it changes.  This is the Cernunnos!Seb x Reader nobody asked for haha  Out of respect for my pagan brothers, sisters, and variations there upon, he’s not strictly Cernunnos, but a fertility god and a religion I adapted for the AU.  And FULL DISCLOSURE: you don’t see a whole lot of Seb in this fic until the end, when you see absolutely all of him!

Warnings: future smut, mentions of blood/bleeding

Sitting with the other girls, listening to a village elder regale the group with tales of The Lord of Nature, the God of Field and Forest, you wished you could be just about any place else.  The quiet spot on the river you discovered seemed to call you on the warm summer day.  Or perhaps the meadow beyond your family’s little farm, littered with wildflowers before reaching the deep, ancient wood.  It just seemed ridiculous to be hearing these legends of wild things instead of being out there experiencing them.  You were only there now because your parents said a girl your age ought to be interested in these sorts of things, learning the ins and outs of the rituals your village held.  In truth, they had been interesting… the first several times you’d heard them in your eleven short years of life.  And as you had no intention of ever being a part of any of the rituals, aside from providing for the offerings as was required, you weren’t exactly sure why you had to keep hearing about them.

Keep reading

Downpour Run-ins [Dan]

Originally posted by everything-dan-and-phil

Word Count: 1316
Warnings: None 

Forgive me, for this is about to be the longest thing I have ever posted.
I’m thinking about turning this into a series, so lemme know if you’d like that! Also, would you like me to keep the character as (Y/N) or should I change it to an OC? Ps: If you get the pun at the end ily
Enjoy!


The bell affixed to the door softly chimed as she exited the store, her small hands clutching a brown paper bag tightly to her chest as she briskly walked down the rain-soaked footpath. Her hair whipped her back, the leather shoes on her feet squeaking annoyingly as she dodged other shoppers who were also trying to find shelter from the downpour. The black trench coat she was wearing was beginning to soak right through to her skin with the cold rain, making her shiver.

‘Typical London,’ she muttered under her breath with a huff, a small cloud of air escaping her lips due to the icy cold temperature.

Out of all the days she could’ve forgotten her umbrella at home, today just had to be the day. She was in such a rush to get to the store early that she bounded down the stairs out of her flat, completely ignoring the fact that the clouds outside had turned an ominous dark grey. Instead, she noticed the beautiful muted reds and oranges of the fallen leaves swirling and fluttering about in the breeze, getting lost in the blur of colours. She was just that type of person; the type who noticed the beauty in almost everything.

Even if it was just a bunch of dead leaves floating in the wind.

The rain began to pour down harder and the drumming on the tin roof of the shelter became increasingly louder. She decided that the coffee store just a few metres away was her best shot to get out of the rain and cold, so she tucked the paper bag firmly under her arm and prepared herself to run.

The icy air whipped against her face as she bolted down the footpath, turning her cheeks a rosy red and chapping her lips slightly. The rain pounded down on her mercilessly, little droplets trickling slowly down her back and face. She squinted in an attempt to try and figure out where she was going, but the misty air made it almost impossible to see anything in front of her.

It was bound to happen in this horrible weather; her impaired vision wasn’t helping either. As she ran down the path, the leather shoes on her feet squeaking as annoyingly as ever, she slammed right into the chest of a stranger. The paper bag went flying out of her small hands, landing in a tiny puddle on the footpath, absorbing the water like a sponge and shriveling up like wrinkly skin.

‘Oh my goodness,’ the voice shouted over the intensity of the downpour. ‘Are you okay?’

She just nodded timidly, scrambling to her feet and inspecting herself for any injuries. Of course she was alright; the man had softened her fall.

‘I’m okay,’ she replied honestly, looking up to see the tall man gazing at her with his brown eyes.

‘Ahh! Your coat is soaked!’ He exclaimed, biting his lip and ruffling his slightly curly fringe with his hand. ‘C'mon, let’s head into the coffee shop to dry off.’ She followed the stranger inside the café, a little bell tinkling as they opened the door. Both were immediately met with a pleasant blast of warm air to the face along with the comforting smell of grinded coffee beans. A smile washed over her face as she stood in line to wait for her favourite beverage; coffee.

She suddenly got the feeling that someone was watching her, and she turned to see the dark-haired stranger sitting at a table with a small smile on his face. She looked ahead shyly, her cheeks turning a slight pink.

Both didn’t utter any words until she joined him in the back of the bustling café, the hum of coffee machines in the background filling their silence. She wrapped her hands around the paper cup in an attempt to warm up her frozen fingers.

‘Crazy weather out there, am I right?’ He questioned with a cheeky smirk set on his lips, taking a sip of his drink soon after. She raised her eyebrows slightly in surprise.

‘The old “isn’t the weather crap” conversation starter,’ she laughed slightly, brushing some of the damp hair out of her face. ‘Nice one, um…’

He smiled at her before holding out his hand across the table, ‘Dan. Nice to meet you…’

‘(Y/N),’ she grinned, shaking his hand firmly and taking a sip of her hot coffee. The two conversed for what seemed like hours, talking about their hobbies and interests. He learned that she was obsessed with anime and they spent quite some time arguing over which ones were the best.

‘I’m telling you, nothing beats Tokyo Ghoul!’ She exclaimed, placing her cup on the table. He just shook his head with a smile and began to rant about his favourite- Haikyuu! She had never laughed harder in her life with this almost-complete stranger and his hilariously awkward jokes; she was in stitches by the time she had drained her cup of coffee.

She stood up from the table, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and ruffling her still-damp hair. He followed her to the door, his empty cup which once held tea still in hand. By now the storm had calmed down, but not enough for her to walk back to her place without being soaked again.

Just as she put her right hand on the cold handle of the door, Dan placed something in her left; it was the paper bag from earlier she had dropped in the puddle outside. Even though the bag itself was wrinkly, its contents were one-hundred percent dry; she was extremely grateful for this. The two exchanged farewells before she ran out into the rain with a huge grin on her face, clutching the bag as tightly as ever.

He watched her rush down the street through the window, noticing how her black trench coat absorbed the rain the way her package did. As she disappeared down a corner, his hands flipped up the hood on his jumper, leaving the store and walking down the street in the opposite direction. Before he had met her, Dan was on his way to the DVD store just down the road to buy an anime that his roommate had wanted to watch; the brown paper bag was an all-too familiar sight to him.

She bounded up her stairs once she had reached her apartment, throwing her sodden boots to the side without a care in the world. All she wanted to do was curl up on the sofa with a steaming mug of hot tea and watch the raindrops have a race down the window in the living room.

As she sat down on the leather couch with her hot chamomile, (Y/N) grabbed the paper bag which contained the item she had been searching on the web for almost two weeks. She placed the cup down on the coffee table and started to tear through the bag, pulling out the DVD she had always wanted. Something suddenly slipped through the packaging, fluttering in the air and onto the floor. She furrowed her eyebrows and bent down to pick it up. It was a receipt filled with grocery items; not the one from the store she had been to. Turning it over, she saw a messy note scrawled on the back.

Ah of course, Tokyo Ghoul season 2. Haikyuu! is still better though.

She grinned, shaking her head in amusement at his statement. Her eyes travelled to the bottom of the crumpled note to see a barely legible phone number hastily written down. Her hands immediately reached for her phone which was sitting on the armrest beside her. Oh boy, was he gonna get it.

(Y/N): You can’t HIDE from the truth that Tokyo Ghoul is better than Haikyuu! my friend.

Her phone beeped soon after with a reply, and the pun war had begun.