question from last night

anonymous asked:

Ok but do u want affection like that one boy's dicc u been talkin about lately (the drama one! The one ur gonna frunk!!) or do u mean like smooches from Rhianna?

good question and good morning……. last night I think I wanted 2 b held ? who can never b sure

I will pay Netflix $2.37 to make an ATWQ show
Something About a Dream

First off, thank you to the many comments I’ve received about the series so far. It makes me feel amazing, and keeps me wanting to post, so thank you again. Second off, I already know where I am going with them, but, if you want, let me know what more you want to see as they grow. x

You can find the past parts here.

To put it simply, Harry was distraught.

He imagined the first time seeing you naked to be some life changing experience, and for the most part he was right, but he envisioned it to be more on the romantic side, with his naked form hovering above you as he reaches into his bedside table for a condom, not when he scampers into his bedroom to find a pair a socks, only to be met with your naked figure bent over to retrieve the towel that had fallen to a heap at your feet – but nothing ever goes the way he wants them to.


For all the times he’s spent his mornings with a hand wrapped around his cock envisioning you rocking greedily against him, back arched and your nails digging into his thigh, he realizes you’re just as flawless as he daydreamed, even if he only got a few second glimpses before he stumbled out of the doorway, not even a peep leaving his lips.

Now, he was expected to share breakfast with the image of your bare arse forever etched in his head.

Keep reading

  • Lemony: I loved playing doctor as a child.
  • [Flashback to little Lemony with a stethoscope and a stuffed bear]
  • Lemony: The cancer has spread. Get your house in order.
Leave A Message: Betty Cooper x Jughead Jones

Summary: AU, After a night of heavy drinking, Betty Cooper realizes she’s left a series of revealing messages on her crush and roommate, Jughead Jones’s phone. 

Words: 1,600

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, swearing, sexual dialogue but mostly embarrassing fluff. 

A/N: I’ve edited this myself so I apologize for errors. 

Betty Cooper’s head was pounding. She had made the mistake of going out with her roommates Cheryl Blossom and Veronica Lodge to celebrate the end of finals. Now she was sitting at their kitchen island cradling a cup of coffee, trying to figure out if IHOP delivered.

“Good Morning!” Cheryl sang as she skipped into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her luscious red was piled up on top of her head and her skin was glowing. She looked like an angel not someone who had partied hard the night before. “How are you?” She asked Betty.

“I’m so hungover” Betty groaned resting her head on her arms. “I’ve never been this hungover.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have done all those shots of Liquid Cocaine.” Cheryl chuckled and began taking out a few frying pans. “You want some bacon and eggs?” She asked.

“I do!” Veronica answered, her silk black robe trailing behind her matching her beautiful black hair. She walked up to Cheryl and gave her a soft kiss. Cheryl and Veronica had been dating since before they had left Riverdale and their relationship was goals.

“How are you guys not hungover?” Betty asked.

“We didn’t do three shots of tequila and then perform a Coyote Ugly style dance on the bar. You drank so much you should be dead.” Veronica informed.

“I wish I was dead.” Betty said sliding off her stool and laid on the floor. “The tile is so cold. I love the tile.”

“You’ve seen better days, Cooper.” Jughead Jones exited his bedroom from the other side of the loft and sat in the stool Betty just occupied. Jughead was Betty’s fourth and final roommate and she had developed a deep crush on him since the four of  them had moved from Massachusetts to California for school.  

Jughead had blossomed in the sunshine state. He had taken up surfing and gotten a tan, transforming himself into a ripped golden god. Whatever girls didn’t like about his moodiness in Riverdale, they loved here. Betty hated that she didn’t make a move sooner and now that he was bedding Californian goddesses, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

“Oh god.” She muttered rolling onto her back. She was so dehydrated she could hear herself blinking. She focused on Jughead messy mop of black hair when he appeared above her.

“Up we go.” He said lifting her into the sitting position. “Take these,” he dropped two extra strength Advil in her palm. “And drink the entire glass.” He instructed.

She did as she was told and steadied herself against him when she stood up. “I need to go back to sleep.”

“Yes, you do.” Jughead agreed walking her back to her room. “Do you need to use the washroom?” He asked.

“I’m not a child, Jug.” Betty snapped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not just rolling around on the floor moaning?” He cocked an eyebrow and helped her into bed. She got underneath the covers and he tucked her in. “Get more rest, you’re gonna need it.” He winked and left her room, closing her door.

Her brow furrowed at her choice of words but she was too tired to give it much more thought than that.

She woke up at 3 in the afternoon feeling much better. Still hungover but manageable. She stumbled out into the living room and found Jughead reading a book. “There she is!” He exclaimed. “I got more Advil out and grabbed some water. There is some left over Thai from lunch in he fridge if you are hungry.”

Betty grabbed the Advil, headed over to the kitchen and began heating up her food. Once the Thai was nice and hot she made way back over to the couch.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked not looking up from his book.

“Mmmm” She answered with a mouth full of food.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“So you don’t remember dancing on the bar?” He inquired.

She shook her head.

“You don’t remember leading the whole bar in a rendition of ‘Come On Eileen’?”

“How do you know this? You weren’t even there”

“Cheryl was sending me videos.” He paused. “Do you remember making a phone call?”

“It’s 2018, Juggie, no one makes phone calls anymore.” She rolled her eyes and took a gulp of her water.

“You sure about that?” He asked again.

“I haven’t spoken on a phone in like two years.”

Jughead took out his cell, began scrolling and finally pushed a button. He held it up so they could both hear it.

“Jughead, mother fucking, Jones.” Betty’s gravelly drunken voice rasped out of the phone.

Her eyes widened and she started choking on her food.

“You fucking idiot with your stupid hat and your stupid attitude and your stupid face like you don’t know how amazing you are. Well, I guess you kinda do now with that revolving bevy of girls in our apartment all the time. And what is wrong with me huh? I’m hot, I’ve had six guys hit on me tonight. Six!”

She heard herself yell through the phone and she buried her head in her arms. “No, no, no.” She repeated over and over again.

“I’m smart too and my personality is okay, so what’s your problem Jughead, huh? I’ve been told that my vagina is like, the actual best. Like, what do I need to do? I guess there is a possibility that you aren’t interested in me but I’m the tits so why wouldn’t you be.” She paused. “Another thing, you actual piece of shit-” She was cut off and he lowered the phone.

“Please tell me I didn’t call you back.” She asked, looking at him through her fingers.

He was smirking and she wanted to smack him. “That was the first of fifteen messages. My favorite was how you told me that you obsess over how big my penis is but it’s probably just normal size and that you should stop worrying about it because this isn’t a romance novel.” He chuckled.

She made a whiny, crying sound, her face burning hot.

He didn’t say anything like she expected. She expected him to tease her, she expected him to tell her that they were friends but their relationship wouldn’t be anything more than that but he didn’t. She felt his weight on the couch beside her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“Would it made a difference if I did?”

“Uh, yeah, kind of a big difference, do you know how you appear to others? Do you know how intimidating you are?” His voice was soft and sincere.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, rubbing her temples.

“You’re beautiful, smart and funny. You make everything seem so effortless, you should date an architect or something.”

“Why is everyone so obsessed with architects?” She moaned, falling back into the cushions of the sofa.

Jughead sighed. “Betty, did you ever think about just asking me out?”

She threw him some serious side eye. “Oh yeah Jug, I’ll just walk up to you and be like, ‘Hey, I know we’ve known each other forever and I’ve ignored you for most of it but now that you’re all hot and dating models and shit, you wanna go out on a date?’” She scoffed.

“Okay.” He replied.

“What?” She sat up quickly, wincing when he head throbbed.

“I’ll go out with you.”

“Why? You date hipster girls who wear glasses they don’t need and are way too big for their face. You date girls who always look good in a romper, always have perfect Coachella hair and eat avocado toast everyday. I go days without showering, I’ve slept in the library more than once, I’ve dropped a McDonalds hamburger on the ground and still ate it because I had spent my last dollar on it and it was all I could eat for 17 hours until I got paid. Last night I threw up in my hamper-”

Jughead cut her off with a kiss. Betty was taken aback by the sudden gesture and it took her body a moment to relax and really accept what was happening. Betty had fantasized about this moment every night for months. What he would smell like, what he was taste like, how he would feel. He tasted like the cinnamon tic tacs he was always eating, spicy and sweet. He smelled like clean laundry, the sea and coconuts from using the girls shampoo all the time. Betty ran her hands through his hair bringing him closer to her. His body was hard and muscular and he pushed it against her, his skin warm and tan and so different from what she expected.

He parted from her, a smile on his face. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

“Liar.” Betty whispered, her eyes still closed.

“Betty, I’ve had a thing for your since the ninth grade.” He admitted, kissing her again.

“Do you want to take this into the bedroom?” She cooed running her hands over his chest.

“No, Bets.”

Her head jerked back. “What? Why? You take all these girls to bed and not me?”

“Betty, you aren’t all girls, you’re the girl.” He smiled and kissed her again.

She smiled back. “Can you please, for the love of god, delete all the messages I left you.”

“Um, absolutely not, this shit belongs in the MOMA.” He took out his phone. “Prepare yourself for message number two.”

Dearly Beloved

Originally posted by frosya

Read the first here! ~

You awoke that morning to a beautiful spring day, the sun peaked through soft clouds as they rolled lazily in the sky of gentle blue. You could see the wind shake the leaves of the trees and the golden ends of the barley field next to your home.

“The flowers look wonderful this spring, Miss Fontaine,” You complimented the elderly florist as you examined her daffodils. “And what a lovely shade of yellow.”

“Thank you, dear.” She beamed proudly as you took two and placed them in your basket.

“And how are the lilies?” You asked as she reached under the counter for some shears to cut the stems of her fresh roses.

“Oh just fine, though I still think they’ll need a week or two to fully bloom,” Miss Fontaine saw the minor look of disappointment in your face before laughing softly. “You’ll be the first to hear when they’re ready.”

You smiled at her generosity. “Thank you, have you tried-”

Your words were caught off as the front door of the florist shop opened, a little bell chiming as it did. You whirled around to find a completely out of breath Lefou with his hands on his knees as he huffed the breath back into his lungs.

“Lefou? Are you alright?” You asked as you gingerly placed your hand on his shoulder.

He stood up straight and tall, turning to you as he heaved one final sigh. “Gaston…Gaston is looking for you.”

“Is he drunk again already?” You asked with a clear and sharp agitation to your voice before you placed your flower basket on the counter. “For goodness sake Lefou, it’s barely the afternoon?”

Lefou laughed but it was cut short by a cough as his lungs couldn’t take the strain. “No not-hing like that, I assure, Is there somewhere I can sit?” He asked while simultaneously falling backwords onto the bench by the window, though you still made sure he didn’t harm himself on the way down.

Patiently, you waited for the poor man to catch his breath before he spoke again. “But, Gaston still wishes to speak with you,” He said clearly. “Said it’s urgent.”

You sighed before setting your basket in front of Miss Fontaine. “Would you mind if I left these here? I shouldn’t be too long.”

The old woman giggled and waved her hand. “Don’t you worry about a thing dear.” She then gave you a mischievous wink which only left you perplexed.

Your eyes found there way back to Lefou who, regardless of his disposition only moments ago, was practically beaming.

“Is there something I’m missing?” You asked, turning your gaze between the two of them.

They both shook their heads and Miss Fontaine ushered you both out of the shop. “Everything will still be here when you return, don’t hurry.” She said with that girlish giggle again.

“Will you come?” Lefou asked as he placed his hat back upon his head.

“I dont really have a choice it seems,” You said as you brushed out the skirts of your dress and fixed your hair. “Lead the way.”

You and Lefou had become dear friends in the time you had known each other, so throughout the walk you made simple small talk about how nice the weather was or how lovely Villeneuve looked during Springtime.

Just as you rounded the corner to Gaston’s home, you grabbed Lefou’s arm to pull him back. “Be honest, what aren’t you telling me.”

Lefou laughed awkwardly and shrugged. “I have no idea what you mean!” He then saw the unwavering look upon your face and he sighed in defeat. “It isn’t my place to tell you, I made a promise.”

You smiled at him regardless. “I understand, thank you for escorting me here.”

He tipped his hat. “Good luck, Miss (Y/n).”

Lefou quickly made his exit before you could question him on his words, and with that you walked up to the door and raised on the brass knocker before dropping it against the dark wooden door.

Almost instantly it swung open and you were pulled into two very strong arms that whirled you around once you were inside.

“(Y/n)! It’s a lovely day isn’t?” Gaston said in a rather uncharacteristically cheerful voice, and when he set you back on the ground you looked up to his bright smile.

“You’ve certainly sobered up, last night you could barely keep your eyes focused on the same place.” You teased him as you closed the door behind you.

“Well of course I did, I had you taking care of me didn’t I?” He asked you as he lead further into his home setting you on the sofa before he held out his hands. “Here, close your eyes.”

“What for?”

“A surprise.”

You did as told, holding your hands over your eyes so you couldn’t see him.

“One moment…,” Gaston said and you heard retreating footsteps and a few rustling noises before you heard him return in front of you. “Okay, you can open them.”

You opened your eyes to see a full bouquet of perfectly bloomed white lilies held in his hand.

“Oh my.” You said with a broad smile on your face as you took thek from him. “There absolutely wonderful, where did you get them? Miss Fontaine said her lillies weren’t bloomed yet.”

Gaston pulled one of his chair from the dining table so he could sit with you. “I bought them from her and asked her if she’s keep it a secret, I knew they were your favorite.”

You gently set them down in your lap as you noticed the yellow ribbon holding the stems together. “Thank you, Gaston. It was very kind of you to think of me.

Gaston smiled, “Of course, the lilies aren’t the real reason why I asked to see you.” He said, though his voice was little more quiet and he had moved closer to you.

You looked up from the flowers to meet his eyes with a smile before looking back down at them. “Go on.”

“Well in light of our conversation from last night, there was a question I’d wanted to ask since you left.” Gaston took both of your hands in his and your gazes met each other and you nodded for him to continue. “I’d like to ask you if you’d like to marry me?”

You were completely taken back by the question it seemed to have knocked the air out of you. You’d never think the random conversations you two had after a night were he particularly had too much ale or wine would ever lead to this scenario.

Gaston saw the expression on your face and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I understand if this a bit too foward, considering we’ve never formally courted one another,” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small red box, placing it in your hands. “And I have every intention of properly courting you and asking for your family’s good graces, but I want you to hold on to this until that happens.”

You took the box in both of your hands, staring at with wide eyes before they met his again. “I don’t…”

“You may open it if you’d like. I promise all of the evil in the world won’t sprout from the top the moment you lift the lid.” He said, making you both laugh and easing the tension.

Curiosity got the better of you and slowly you opened this box, smiling whenever you saw the ring sitting in the pool of dark velvet. It was a similar shape and style the engagement your mother always wore, and one you always admired.

“I spoke to your brother whenever chosing it.” Gaston said as he looked down at it with you. “You don’t need to accept or reject me anytime soon, I’m more than willing to wait.”

His hands enclosed around yours and he closed the box. “I shall wait regardless of your answer.”

You opened your mouth before closing it and shaking your head at how silly you were being. “I think…,” You said looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Should the time come, I would like to marry you,” You said, watching the light encase in his eyes and his smile grow. “Very much so.”

Gaston leaned foward, careful not to crush your flowers, and kissed your forehead tenderly. “Then that is very good news indeed.”

anonymous asked:

OMG! I am tired of the writers this season. Can you believe that after 4 years Bellarke is nowhere close to being romantic. I stopped watching after 4x03 because I saw the baiting game. I refuse to be used by these writers. The thing is that if they were going to make them romantic in season 5 then they would have developed their emotional connection in season 4. Instead they have ignored Bellarke deliberately and set up Nylah. The writers have treated us like fools. I won't be watching anymore

i mean, i wouldn’t say that they set her up with niylah; clarke and niylah are fwb, and niylah isn’t really a character; she’s merely a catch-it-all prop. i wouldn’t trust these writer’s with my fictional hamster’s life but even they know how to sorta-kinda flesh out a relationship.

also it’s totally your choice to stop watching (help me i wish i could) but to say that they’ve ignored blarke? nah i wouldn’t go that far. like i’m one of the grumpiest most pessimistic bitter blorkes™ you can find, but there’s been a fair amount of ~romantic~ development (last week i said that my issue with the show is that the writing could be tighter to make the character development a bit better and i still stand by that)

let’s start with 403: literally bellamy and clarke saying that they don’t want to live without each other in this ep this isn’t just friendship folks this is something deeper

404: lmao in the first 5 mins this happens

and then the scene where jaha says ‘of course clarke and bellamy.’ last ep he said that bellamy centres her, and vice versa, and it’s being called back here as a reason why they’re on the list together.

405: clarke is still worrying about bellamy not being back which monty pokes fun at because honestly these dummies are so obvious about their feelings it’s not even funny anymore.

and then we find out about the ice nation marching on arkadia, clarke goes to reason with roan but roan has a trump card

look at her face baby girl is SHOOK when she sees bellamy being held hostage and once again it’s a ‘save bellamy or doom more than a handful of people’ situation, and just like the last few times, she chooses to save bellamy. she’s willing to fight at first but once roan points out that bellamy (and kane) will be caught in the crossfire and will die, she gives in.

406: another blarke day trip

from the get go this was a blarke heavy ep; he’s pissed off, she tries to comfort him, etc etc. even when things are tense, they still check in with one another and make sure that they’re okay.

first they hit a fork in the road. clarke and the fuel are taking and bellamy goes out of his se asian mind, i mean just look at him when he thinks it might be her dead body under the sheet

his hands are visibly shaking and he hesitates before pulling it off. and then when he sees that it’s not her he breathes a sigh of relief because he deadass can’t lose her.

next, is the car chase where, once again, he loses his se asian mind at the sight of a sword being held against her neck. while roan is tackling the grounder on the truck bed, the two murder babies are working together, and he saves clarke yet again

and then there’s the beach scene aka the almost confession scene

he almost lost her in this ep (again) and at the start of the ep he pointed out that they don’t have much time. he knows the stakes are high and he knows that they can die at any moment. bob himself said that an ‘i love you’ wouldn’t be able to convey everything he feels for her in this moment, and he’d probably need to prepare a monologue.

407-409 doesn’t really have a lot of bellarke moments because they’re separated (save for the end of 409 but more on that later) so those are geared more towards the shitty plot. there are a good few character defining moments though, like bellamy accepting that he can’t save everyone, and clarke risking her own life for her people

at the end of 409 they have another one of their ~comfort talks~ where they try to figure out what to do (i’d say that here is where clarke first starts thinking about stealing the bunker but idk)

410 is more octabitch heavy, but clarke does send someone to kidnap bellamy and drag his ass down to the bunker because she’s extra like that and can’t live without him

411 was a disappointment because we all saw the promo and we all built it up in our heads only for it to be just like the past few eps, more action driven and ‘what would you do for survival’ than heart to heart talks. clarke wants to go talk to him when he’s in lock up but she can’t bring herself to listen to him scream (and i reckon it’s also because she knows he’s going to be seriously angry at him and she can’t bring herself to do that either) instead they have her go to niylah because she wants a yes-man and she knows that the two people she cares for most- bellamy and her mother- can’t do that for her right now.

after abby gets him out of lock up, bellamy tells her that he won’t let anything bad happen to clarke which. we already know that but it’s nice to hear.

and then there’s the gun scene. after cooling down and shoving my disappointment aside (i wanted them to talk about it, they did not talk about it) when you look at the gun scene it basically says this:

clarke griffin had been willing to let her mother die for humanity last season but this season she couldn’t do the same for bellamy blake

and bellamy now knows this

he knows clarke is willing to do whatever it takes to save her people and he gambled his own life, his own worth towards her, in order to get that door open. and when she couldn’t bring herself to shoot him (not even in the leg or somewhere non lethal) that’s when he finally realises that clarke cares about him a whole heckuva lot because by letting him go she essentially ‘doomed’ all of their people.

412 had what i wanted 411 to have: bellamy and clarke talking about the whole gun pulling scene and that’s exactly what happened. she apologises for holding they gun, he forgives her, they smile at each other long enough for bellamy to crash into a tree (seriously this is the best thing that has ever happened for me ok blarke getting distracted flirting and crashing into a tree amazing)

and then some extra ‘lemme save your life real quick’ and bellamy worrying about clarke again because she took off her suit (seriously girlie you’re gonna give him grey hair before his time) because why not but this ep was not only delinquent heavy and leading towards a delinquent heavy finale, but it also put bellamy and clarke back in their co leader positions.

so yeah, maybe there hasn’t been as much bellarke development this season; there weren’t any super big moments or call outs or what have you but that’s because they’re both right there on that precipice. bellamy knows how he feels about clarke and was almost ready to confess it. clarke on the other hand is kinda tricky because she doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve like bellamy, but you can’t deny that she cares about him deeply, not when the narrative has shown that over and over again.

maybe something might happen in the finale, maybe it won’t, we don’t know. we know there’s going to be another hug which he initiates this time, and who knows maybe it could have more than that. (but like i said i’m a pessimistic blorke so i refuse to accept that anything more than a hug is happening lmao)

to any and all questioning people:

first of all, i’m so proud of you for embarking on a process to question and better understand your identity !! that’s so great !! the questioning process can be weird and confusing and difficult and stressful but !! gosh !! you’re trying to better understand your identity and figuring things out for yourself in your own way and that’s honestly incredible !! 

and whether or not you find the types of language you’re looking for, whether you end up using one label or ten labels or no labels, i hope you are able to come away from this process feeling more comfortable and at home with your identity and experiences, whether through finding language that helps you understand and communicate your experiences, using one label, using lots of labels, or using none

regardless, i hope the process of questioning goes well for you and that you come out of it happier than you went in !! wishing you lots of luck and sending lots of love !! i hope you have a positively fantastic day !!

ATWQ Character Aesthetics

6/8: Cleo Knight

But Cleo Knight didn’t even flinch, a word for the usual reaction people have to a loud noise or an unfortunate event. I don’t know what I expected to find when I found this brilliant chemist. I suppose I had thought she might be quiet and shy, from all the time she spent in her bedroom working on a formula for invisible ink. But instead she kept walking toward the quivering man in the corner, and pointed a finger at him as furious as the bruise on her wrist. 

He Calls Me Kitty (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Where this came from? Good question. It popped into my head last night and I knew I needed to write it. This one is probably going to be a chaptered fic, but I’m not sure if it will be romance or friend ship yet.

Trigger warnings: Violence, mentions of death, really vague mentions of rape, and swearing

Part Two

Originally posted by 0sungoddess0

Being able to shape shift from one animal to another could be really cool, you learned that from experience. When your parents were still alive you would shift to your (hair color) haired cat. It was a fun party trick which you did only with your loving family. You were treasured for being ‘extraordinary’ and special child. It was a fun relaxing life as a human kitten hybrid.

Being able to shapeshift into a cat could also be very useful, a lesson you learned from a different experience. After your parents perished you needed to fend for yourself, sometimes strangers were more kind to a kitten starved and thin that a little child in tattered clothes begging for food to survive. Other times being a cat meant you could twist around in small spaces and reach hard to get food when you needed it.

Being able to shapeshift into a cat could also really suck, an experience you are learning right now.

Keep reading

Title: Daggers

Image: Dark and Anti fighting on who can spend time with you.

You watched the two men in front of you, questioning if they really should be called men considering they were both acting like children. And why was this? Because the two decided to argue over who’s day it was to spend time with you. Of course you didn’t get a say in this matter so you watched the two boys argue and you were slightly becoming impatient, you only wanted to go to the movies.

“It’s my day! You had the human yesterday!” Anti hissed at Dark, glitching violently. They never even bothered to use your name unless it was to you and half the time it seemed like a chore to them. Dark was a little more polite and did use your name more, Anti however, not so much. When you asked him about it, he simply shrugged, saying that ‘The human’ was a nickname, but you knew that was a lie.

 "The human has a name, isn’t that right, (Y/N)?“ Dark addressed you as you sat on the bed in your room, you didn’t answer, knowing Anti was glaring holes into your head. Dark whipped his head to Anti, glaring at him, "It’s rude to glare at others, Anti.”

“Hypocrite!” Anti said, now glaring at Dark. 

You had had enough, “Guys-” But were quickly cut off by Dark, 

“Not now (Y/N).” He stated, his hand raised as he continued to glare at Anti, “I’m gonna shove a knife down this kid’s throat." 

Anti became more angrier the more time passed, "Not if I cut your head off first old man.” The pair had taken a step towards each other and it started to worry you. You never liked these fights, cause for one, your room would become a mess in the space of two seconds. The boys always fought messily and it annoyed you.

 "It’s my day, I deserve it, I did the job for you last night so why can’t I go??!“ Anti asked Dark, nothing but venom in his voice.


"Shut up before I make you shut up.” Anti spat at you, your eyes going slightly wide. 

You didn’t like it when he was angry at you. You were only going to ask what the job was from last night but that was out of the question…“I don’t care what you deserve, it is my turn, I treat people with respect unlike you.” Dark had hit a nerve, causing Anti to stand finger length away from Dark, glitching with fury, his claws beginning to show. 


“NOT NOW (Y/N)!!” They both shouted at you, causing you to become angry, you were on your last nerve. You mumbled to yourself, getting up and working on a plan to make them stop. The pair hadn’t even noticed that you had disappeared to receive the pairs daggers. 

The daggers always helped when they were like this or just when you wanted peace and time with your real friends, this was one of they times. You knew they would be super pissed with you when they found a way back but that was something you could always handle. You pulled out Anti’s dagger, shoving it directly into his back from behind, he shouted in pain before glitching away. Dark began to smirk, giving you the opportunity to pull his dagger out, stabbing him straight in the chest, he hissed in pain before disappearing in a puff of black smoke.

 You threw the clean daggers onto your bed, grabbing your jacket before making your way out of the now peaceful room.

ATWQ Character Aesthetics

1/8: Lemony Snicket

The bell rang the all-clear. I just lay there and listened to two pairs of footsteps fading away. They’re gone, I told myself. Stand up. Don’t stop. You said you weren’t going to stop. Don’t let these criminals make you a liar.

The Affair - Chapter 4

Summary: The reader has dinner at Negan’s like originally planned. 

Characters: Negan, Reader (OC)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Swearing & Smut.

Notes: Things start warming up a bit. Sorry for the lack of updates on stories, I’ve been super busy with things! 

AO3 Link:

Tags: @jasoncrouse @ronweaselz @hiddlesdowneyjr @ali-pennell @melodicdolls @namelesslosers @deepsouth @shanaatjelove11 @warriorqueen1991 @caitydestroys @acklesdowneyandhiddles-ohmy @jaylaelizabethw @prettyepiic @negans-dirty-girl @mamaredd123 @jdmsgal @alyisdead @memphisgirl1977 @negans-network @esmerhya @carrter5 @karaokke @freaktesque *As always, please let me know if you want to be added to the tags or if you wanted to be taken off!*  

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Always Will - Bucky Barnes

Summary : You and Bucky helping each other through rough times.

Warnings : Panic Attacks, PTSD, throwing up, and nightmares

Word Count : 931

It all started when Steve had left for a mission. Bucky usually is never without Steve for one week tops nowadays, and the mission Steve was leaving for was at least a month.

Bucky usually had episodes quite often, usually because of his PTSD. So when you heard a scream one late night, you immediately knew it was Bucky. Since no one else was around, you knew you had to help him somehow. Steve had told you that Bucky usually just needs to have someone help him calm down when it happens. So you quickly skidded down across the hallways to Bucky’s room.

You cracked the door open, getting a view of a crouched up Bucky on his disheveled bed. His hair everywhere, and his face hiding in his knees. You turned on his lamp that was next to his desk when you entered the room. It caught his attention, his head shooting up to see your figure watching him carefully. Bucky’s face was distressed and he had red eyes, either from his lack of sleep or crying. Maybe both.

“Bucky.” You whisper, taking a step towards his bed. He sits up straighter and you calmly continue. “What was it this time?”

His shoulders slump and he looks at the wall across the room ignoring your question, when you get next to his bed you nod towards the spot next to you, silently asking if you could sit. He just gives a short nod, not taking his eyes from the wall when you sit down. You sit in silence for a minute until you speak up again.

“I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through, Bucky. And I also know it’s harder to go through these moments without Steve around. But, I’m here.”

With that Bucky looks over to you, his lips turn into a small smile and he nods gently before mumbling a quick. “Thank you, (Y/n).”

“That’s what friends are for.”

And that’s how it had all started, whenever Bucky needed someone you were there for him. Becoming closer, you always tried to help him. And when you needed someone he was there too.

You had been having a chaotic week, and you felt horrible. You had a bad mission the day before, a little girl had died in your arms when the target of your mission shot her trying to get you. You couldn’t help but feel the guilt wash over you. Bucky and Steve, the whole group had been trying to tell you it wasn’t your fault but all you could think about was that little girl you held in your arms when she had her last breaths of life.

Of course, it would only be obvious you would have a nightmare of the scene replaying, the same face. The last thing you saw in your dream was the girl’s eyes going lifeless before you woke up with a loud scream. Within seconds your bedroom door was opened by the familiar face.

“(Y/n).” Bucky exclaims while you run into your bathroom. You felt so sick from the images in your head you had to throw up, immediately throwing your head towards the toilet. Bucky’s fast footsteps make their way over, soon your hair is being pulled back. Bucky coos at you quietly while rubbing your back with his cool metal arm. Which, is a nice contrast compared to your overly heated body.

When you pull back, you immediately flush the toilet and slump against the wall behind you. With a quivering lip, red face, and wet eyes, you look towards Bucky weakly. He just pushes your hair behind your ears and then stands up, he gets a washcloth from your cupboard and quickly runs it under the faucet’s cold water.

He is soon in front of you again, wiping at your mouth even though there isn’t anything there. Then he dabs the cold cloth at your whole face, and neck. Without saying another word he helps your shaky figure stand up, having his arm around your waist as he guides you back to bed.

He gets you under the sheets, knowing you’d be too hot for your comforter. Once he is sure your comfortable he goes and turns your ceiling fan on. He looks at you and he smiles when he sees that you slowly began to fall back asleep. With a quick kiss to your forehead, Bucky leaves for the night back into his room.

The next morning you woke up, you immediately left to go to the kitchen. Of course, the only people up and in the kitchen was Bucky and Steve.

“Morning, boys.” You say announcing your presence. Steve is the first to turn at the sound of your voice, he smiles and says a quick good morning before turning back to the eggs he was scrambling.

Bucky watches you as you sit on of the barstools, he soon pours you some coffee, putting everything you like into it. When he hands it to you he questions. “You okay, from last night?” You smile at that, patting the stool next to you that he quickly occupies and then you answer.

“Yes, I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

“Of course, doll. I will always be there for you.”

With that you lean your head onto his shoulder, Bucky smiles contently, kissing the top of your head. You intertwine your fingers into his warm one, giving it a slight squeeze before you both sit in a comfortable silence.

ATWQ Character Aesthetics

2/8: Moxie Mallahan

Moxie Mallahan, Stain’d-by-the-Sea’s last journalist and one of my most loyal associates, knelt down beside me. The hat she usually wore lay on the floor next to me, with a few scattered business cards stating her name and occupation. I could tell she had a thousand questions, but she only asked me one. “What are you doing here?”

I’ve Kept My Heart Under Control...

Shatter Me series. Honestly, if you haven’t read this series, what are you waiting for?
So, it was killing me not to have Warner’s POV from Chapter 25-29 during Ignite Me.
I used the song ‘Under Control’ by Parachute, because I think it fits him perfectly in this case.

tagging: @jacelightwoodsbutt and @dancingnancyy because we’re all warnette trash.

I turn my head
I can’t shake the look you gave me
I’m as good as dead, Cause all those eyes are all it takes
And all I want is you

My eyes lingered on hers for just a moment longer as I felt the smile pull at my lips. Who cared if all of her so-called friends were watching us? They meant nothing to me anyway. The only thing that mattered were the beautiful blue-green eyes staring back at me.

After the display with Kent’s’ attitude, the last thing I wanted was to leave her there with them. Leave her there with him, while he suffocated her, brought her down; screamed at her. She was tough though, she was a fighter. I could already see that she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. So, as much as I wanted to grab her hand and leave that wretched, crowded shack, I let her go.

The chills still ran down my spine, though, at the thought of never seeing those eyes again. Never hearing the tickle of her voice, never seeing her bite her bottom lip.

I clenched my fists, watching as my knuckles turned white at the prospect of never having her scent linger in my presence. My chest knotted itself knowing that I was such a dead man for loving her. She could tie the noose in front of me and I’d slip it around my neck if she asked.

All it took was one look from her, one sigh, and I was completely enamored.

So I pulled away,
All I do is sit and wait
And I might as well
Write the words right on my face that all I want is you
Always you

I let the door to Kent’s home shut behind me and released a breath. I would not show weakness, not until I was home, buried between the safe four walls of my office. So I steeled myself and I let my feet carry me, leaving behind the heavy burden of what had happened in that home I just left behind.

My heart felt splintered, like it was fraying at the ends and one strong pull would unravel it altogether.

I allowed my mind to let itself go and push me forward. She had the pager, she would be fine. She would call me if anything happened, that much I was sure of.

Wouldn’t she?

So, this is where I found myself. Going from a steady pacing, to plopping down in my office chair, to back up and pacing the room again. My hands twisting themselves raw. The silent pager sitting on the top of my desk, taunting me, teasing me into oblivion.
I glanced at the clock next to my desk lamp. It was a little after two a.m. and I huffed out a breath. I had left her hours ago, almost half a day ago. My stomach twisted with hunger, as if to remind me that all I had been feeding on in the last few days, were thoughts of her.
She was likely fed and now sleeping, I hoped, as far away from Kent as possible.
My eyes felt heavy with the promise of sleep and I pulled the pager up off the desk and stealthy stalked to the bedroom door, unsure of why I was being so quiet.
When I made it to my bed and threw myself down, I buried my face into the soft pillows, closing my eyes and waiting for the release of sleep. My hand still gripped the pager. If she needed me, if she needed anything, I’d be there in a heartbeat and I wasn’t going to let sleep absorb to much of my attention from her.
I turned to shift myself in a more comfortable position and my eyes snapped open.
This was a mistake.
A terrible mistake.

My sheets smelled of her.

A rich, deep smell that surrounded me, wrapped itself around my bones, became my second skin; held me prisoner.
I bolted up, running a hand through my hair and then over my face, hoping I could scrub away the exhaustion.
And I pulled myself up and took one last look at the bed she had laid claim to, shook my head to wedge the tension somehow, and walked back into my office.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to open that door again.

Because I’ve kept my heart under control
But lately, all this time has taken its toll
Said I tried to but I can’t hold back what’s deep in my soul
So darling please believe me
I want you and you just have to know.

It truly was becoming the longest night of my life, save for the night that I laid in my childhood bed, next to the woman I loved, with a hole ripped through her chest. That bullet went through the both of us the moment it left the chamber of that gun. The memory seemed like months or years ago, but it was hardly days, hardly a week. How had we gone from that, to this?

I sighed, smiling to myself. I couldn’t be surprised. She was one hell of a fighter and there was no way that her life was ending because of a bullet from my father. She was not allowed to meet the same fate that so many undeserving people had, because she deserved to live life more than anyone I knew. I would see to it that she would. No matter where this war took us.

Another glance at my clock told me it was half past four and I looked down at the pager one more time, running my hand across my mouth.
My feet scratched the floor and for a moment, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences, I wasn’t thinking about what Kent would say or do or how red her face would become if I showed up-not to take her against her will, but to ask her to reconsider her positions.

Before I knew it, my coat was on and I was in the hallway. My feet carrying me to the tank I drove hours before.

I found myself parked in front of Kent’s home a few minutes later. Completely dark and still from beyond the shadows. She would be so angry if she knew I was here. I could see her do so much as stomp her foot in front of me like some pouty child. It tugged a smile onto my lips and I gripped the pager tighter, like it was tied with an invisible string to hers, begging for her to push it.
My hand went to rest on the door handle and I snapped my eyes shut. I couldn’t. I couldn’t ambush her in the middle of the night, pull her away from her friends. She was strong, she was tough, but damn if I didn’t miss her.
I’d kept my heart as a caged animal for the past nineteen years and she was the first real promise of freedom. And as much as I longed for that freedom for myself, she came first. Her needs always came before mine.

But it was getting harder and harder to keep that animal within its cages. It was thrashing around more and more by the minute. Wearing me thin.
She’d hate me for this, for sitting out here, pining after her. Thinking I didn’t trust her choice to stay with her friends. I did and my unwavering faith in her is what kept me from going to the front door.

It’s everyone else I didn’t trust.

Not Kent, not Kishimoto, and definitely not the beast rattling around inside of me.

And all my fears,
Creep and crawl across my skin,
These four walls are after me and moving in and all I want to do
Is give up
And give in

The sun had risen a few hours ago. I know, because I watched it rise from my office window. No one had questioned me last night when I left and returned a half hour later and immediately went to the confines of my room.

What was happening to me?

I had spent the better part of nineteen years without the tether of anyone and now, this short brunette was pulling at that tether like it was some school yard game.
The pager was burning in my hand and I had already paced a hole in the hardwood floors beneath me.
The sun was up, she had to be too. And she still wasn’t calling for me. 

My body pulled itself down with exhaustion. The anxiety of the night weighing on me even more than before.

What if she never called for me?
What if she wanted to stay there, in that shack?
With those people?
People who didn’t understand her like I did, who could read her and see her and know her as well as I did.
Would her love for Kent keep her there? Erasing me from her memory forever?

The thoughts exploded across my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Fracturing me worse than any injury that I’d ever experienced before.
The caged animal flailing at the prospect of losing the thing that allowed it’s blood to course through its veins.
I felt my chest tighten, my throat close around itself.

I slid my eyes shut, the morning glow blocking my thoughts. I was back to building walls, pushing my selfish thoughts out. But my heart, and its erratic beating, pulled the walls of my office closer to me and I thought for a moment that I was losing my mind.

My legs lifted me from my desk chair and I barely made it over to the window, barely got the window up before my lungs exploded in loud gasps.
Every minute she wasn’t next to me, wasn’t by my side, my heart counted its beats until her return. I thought back to the moment I watched her count her breathing in that terrible cell and realized her breaths always fell in line with my heartbeat.
From the very beginning.

Every piece of her was surrounding me, much like she had after she shot me. My thoughts clouded and swam with only bits of her. Like a piranha was feeding on every part of my mind that didn’t contain Juliette Ferrars and snapped all of those bits up. Leaving it with nothing but her smile and the way she said my name and her smell and the fact that her armoire was inside of my closet.

I stood next to the open window, breathing in the musty air for what felt like forever. If only to drown the piranha within me. To still the raging beast.

To calm my anxious heart.

One of these days
I’m going to know just what to say
Oh and I’ll walk on up
When you want this love
Or when you’ve had enough
And you’re giving it up

The sun had barely risen to high noon when the first vibration went off. I snapped my neck to it so quickly that I likely pulled a muscle.
I didn’t wait for a second one before I was out the door. The wind bustling around me, whipping around me as I held the pager in my hand.

Something was wrong. I felt the vibration of the pager ring out again and again. Desperate and as frantic as I was feeling.
All I knew was that I had to get to her. I had to see her. I had to know that Kent hadn’t gone off and done something he would regret.
I wasn’t scared for him by my hand. I was scared for him by hers.
Because she would inflict the worst kind of damage.
And I needed to be there for her.

Three clicks in a frantic row were the last things I felt as I sped on to his street, hardly pushing the tank into park before I was out. My eyelids heavy and my chest heaving with worry. In that moment, I didn’t care how I looked, but I needed to see her. I needed to make sure that she wasn’t going to shatter this world and take me down with it.

My fingers barely gripped the door handle before I ripped it open, eyes wide and catching my breath. I knew her name was escaping my mouth, the caged beast now as frantic as the vibrations from the pager.
She didn’t get a word out before my hands had cupped her face, my eyes instantly searching her.
I knew I was asking her if she was okay, needing more than a thirsty man in the desert needed water to know if she was alright.
But then I heard her thanking me and then I was wrapping my arms around her and for the first time in many moons, not caring that I was showing an audience my true affections.
My words began begging her to tell me what’s wrong, but I didn’t let go of her. I didn’t want her to realize that she called for me, that maybe she didn’t want me here and that maybe this was all in my imagination. A sick dream and that I was actually passed out on my desk.
Fearing the oncoming heartbreak, I asked her if she wanted me to leave and she said ‘no’ before I could barely finish the sentence. She looked so small. Powerful, but small. Heartbroken, all the same and I wanted nothing more than to take whatever hand she’d been dealt that morning and shove it back into the pile.
So I begged her, desperately, to tell me what I could do to take away her hurt and pain.
I’ve only ever begged one other person in my entire life.
My father.
Coincidentally, over the very person in my arms.

I’ve kept my heart under control
Deep down in my soul
I want you and you just have to know

My hand is still burning as I help her into the tank, still burning as she’s thanking me and I can barely swallow as the anger contained with me begins to lace with the hurt and guilt that she’s feeling. I can barely take it and I find myself begging her, yet again to cease her thoughts and feelings.
Because it feels like a knife sliding between my ribs, like the lashes from my father all over again, the pain pulls at what’s left of my energy.

Yet, I carry on the conversation with her. Until she says my name and I feel my breath hitch in my throat. Because, that’s what I want. I want her to say my name like this for the rest of my days. As long as I am drawing breath, I want her to say my name as casually as she is in this moment.
And then I hear her tell me that she doesn’t want to change me and I finally feel that caged beast break free. Feel him erupt around my chest and if I look at her, I will end up stopping the tank and adding more weight to the world that is already crushing down around her and I can’t do that to her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I don’t realize that my breathing has deepened, only to allow the beast some room to roam around my chest, but she asks if I believe her, if I feel the sincerity in her voice.

And I want to look at her so badly.

My blood tingles with the need.

Because I do. I feel the sincerity deep within my bones and know that she doesn’t truly think I’m the monster that I’ve led the world to believe that I am.
And I know, that she means everything to me. The world started spinning with her and will stop spinning when she leaves and I will hurl myself off the side of it just to go with her.
I resist the pull of turning to her. I can’t let her see the desperation on my face. The need to have her in my life. Because I can’t stand to see the heartbreak if she doesn’t feel the same way.

I hope she does.

I hope she feels something for me besides fear or anger. I want to prove to her that I would bend this Earth to give her anything she needed.
But I swallow as I clench the steering wheel and her words are ringing in my ears 

“Can you sense that I’m telling the truth? That I really mean it?”

And I pull the beast back within me. Lock the cage with a steady thud.

And I nod.

Just once.