this is shit but it was still in my stash so it had to be posted one day

Warframe personalities from how I see them, by my first glance at them.

Heads up, this is a long post. Enjoy~!

Ash: Aloof mofo with a stabbing habit. could rob you of all your money in texas hold ‘em. Too much damn side eye. Kills everyone is the room, then breaks for coffee like nothing happened. Ninja who steals the last slice of cake from the fridge.

Atlas: would kick your ass then be your best bro. is dead inside? somewhat likely but can’t tell anymore. makes shitty jokes. I get he’s a one punch man stone golem, but c’mon, the guy gives pretty good hugs.

Banshee: Resting bitch face, but is sound sensitive so she has a reason. Most likely up to god knows what hours listening to music enjoying synethesia sensations. Knows a thing or two about where to find the best obscure books. Caring protective friend.

Chroma: Moody guy who just wants some fucking peace and quiet. Hoards things like trophies from kills, bet this guy has so many hunting trophies? ffs, his ult is a dragon pelt, might as well be a dragon! Really good at pissing off people without even trying.

Ember: Sassy friend wants all the tea. Best booty to boot. You see that guy over there? He’s on fire. She fucking murdered him with sick comebacks. Don’t get me wrong though, she might like her bacon crispy but she’s a pretty loyal friend. Probably would come get your ass for a revive with intent to raze the fucking field with wildfire.

Equinox: Calm balanced friend??? Has two sides she shows to different people, everyone who talks to her might find something different about her. Likes keeping a lot of houseplants in her room in the dojo. Courteous and polite and gives the best backhanded compliments under a pleasant facade.

Excalibur: Average Joe. Good at a lot but not the best, really doesn’t give his best. Very athletic. rushes through missions impatiently. Might play too many hack’n’slash games in his spare time.

Frost: Stoic, quiet, probably has some thought going on at all times. Reads a lot of mythology from before the orokin era. Procrastinates and stalls for his buddies while holding down the fort. solid person to talk to if you need someone to listen.

Hydroid: The guy has enough mentions about tentacle porn, it’s safe to say he’s hoarding a hentai stash somewhere. or people assume. just a guy who loves the water, could talk for days about fish and where to find all the best seafood restaurants. has had enough people mentioning pirates around him. has a good, hearty laugh.

Inaros: Tired, always fucking tired. Sleep? I’ll sleep when I’m dead. if you can kill me, that is. Mmm. nom. Corpus tastes metallic. Grineer tastes like really bad slimy chicken. I’m not sharing what infested taste like. Shields? What the heck is that? Appreciates old architecture and hoards ayatan statues.

Ivara: Sneaky sneaky~ I got an arrow for just about any job. Just because i am a cyclops doesn’t mean i don’t have depth perception, dumbass. Carefree happy lady, fun to talk to. Makes lots of banter with teammates on missions.

Limbo: Trolls might love this guy, why doesn’t he have a fedora helmet yet? I’ve not seen enough Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure to know what those references mean. He’s a real gentleman, very inquisitive. He’s a scientist? Aw, cool. Prolly spacing out while carousing through the rift, thinking about his next project.

Loki: The Cheeseframe is what people call him. Knows where all the loot is, all the time. Giggling and pulling pranks 24/7. Can do shit effortlessly and stares at his team wondering why the fuck the had to trigger the damn alarm in a mission. Also, hammerhead shark. This guys likes playing card games too.

Mag: In a state of calm and panic at the same time. Doesn’t show much though. Magnetic personality? Could crush your heart in a minute. Has a good taste in interior design, rather good at art deco/ industrial. Has some walls to get through before befriending her, but melts like a marshmellow when ya do.

Mesa: 360 no scope!!! It’s high noon! okay, now that’s out of the way, let’s keep going. Keeps an orderly schedule, off doing solo missions all the time. Loves a good movie, could talk about her favorite film for hours. Deserts are dry? So is her humor. Would shoot you without even thinking.

Mirage: You thought Loki’s pranks were bad? At least her enemies get these night mare shows and not you. This chick loves horror films, special effects make up and disco. Pretty good at good at lighting up the room and your smile. She really just wants a good time, okay?

Nekros: Sick mofo who tells dead baby jokes. Has some interesting kinks. Rarely eats, if ever. Would look you dead in the eye and try to tell you bad puns seriously as possible. Has seen the dead walk again, thinks they’re best buddies. good guy to go to a graveyard with.

Nezha: Srsly good looking.. guy? girl? oh idc he can be genderfluid and i’d still think he’s attractive. Got serious hula skills. Never takes himself seriously and just loves going for long missions. Knows a thing or two about culture, rather classy guy but can be a bit childish. Never really grew up, but you don’t notice that behind the charm.

Nidus: This is the I-don’t-give-a damn guy. He wrecks everything he touches, spreads space aids, yet his personality is far from cancer. Very good with animals. A bit messy. Too many damn things talking in his head from the infested and ignores them like a champ. They bend to his will.

Nova: A Good Egg, if slightly cracked. Giggles at the mention of inane words. Everything explodes!!! ADHD in a frame. Good natured wholesome friend who loves everyone. Bad habit of breaking appliances and electronics. Geiger counters near her start playing Imagine Dragon’s Radioactive?

Nyx: Look at this frame. You took a good warframe and gave it anxiety, sheesh. Shy, kinda hard to deal with hearing everyone’s thoughts sometimes. ain’t got time for your drama. Loves talking about current events, but not much of a gossip out of respect for others. giant personal space bubble, do not touch!

Oberon: Royal pain in the ass, but a lovable doofus so you kinda just let it go. Very protective dad friend, complete with dad jokes. Probably would like to finish your sandwich if you’re not gonna eat it. Would open his home to you if you needed a couch to surf on.

Octavia: This girl loves all music, could help you find just the mix you were looking for. Got sick dance moves too. Might have been in band. Would happily binge watch any tv show with you and discuss everything about it. You don’t know what so charming about her, but you really like her so you always accept her invites. Had a bad habit of fidgeting.

Rhino: This guy could bench press a grineer ship in one hand and corpus ship in the other. you don’t move out of his way, he runs you over, simple as that. gym rat, for sure. somewhat impatient. watches way too many superhero blockbusters and devours the comics. Mows down the entire enemy wave just get your sorry bleeding ass back up and fighting again.

Saryn: Oh, good lotus, this chick has got good looks and a deadly touch. Cunning girl could outsmart anyone. Low key annoyed in general. Would back stab you without a thought, given a reason. Knows a lot about cooking. I mean, if you’re going to poison someone or at least know how to work in the biolab you should probably know how this type of chemistry works. dodges responsibility a lot tho.

Titania: flighty as fuck, gets startled easily. graceful; she has good fashion sense. you have no idea where she came from in the room. fairy tales are definitely her thing, but happy endings really aren’t true with that state of things right now in the solar system. too many butterflies, but is fine with it since they help her stay calm. Actually really good at flying archwings, I think?

Trinity: First one to rush into the fight, last one to leave until everyone is okay. Is the Mom friend. Likes to be helpful. Rather much a bitch to those she hates. She may have an open heart, but don’t walk all over this girl. Cross her once, shame on you. Cross her twice, she leaves you for dead on eris, end of story.

Valkyr: Look, she’s been through some shit, has ptsd, the very least you can do is give her a cat plushie and your support, okay? Gets angry easily and has meltdowns. She’s not a pushover. She knows what’s best, she can endure. semi serious, jokes fly over her head. it may take a bit for her to like you. literally a cat frame, you don’t know love until you’ve been loved by a cat.

Vauban: Forget Limbo being a troll. This is THE trollframe. Went to college for engineering, came back out a smart ass. Don’t loan money to him, he prolly won’t pay ya back. Pretty good drinking buddy tho. Reads a shit ton of shakespear to know what that sense of humor really is. Shit poster, meme hoarder extrordinaire. you can have a grenade! And you can have a grenade! YOU ALL CAN HAVE GRENADES!

Volt: Impeccable taste mixed with sharp commentary. Why does he have a helmet that’s a boob? maybe he has a high schooler’s sense of humor? would be honest with you and tell you straight up what needs to be done. This guy likes expensive suits. Has a tendency to be impulsive.

Wukong: Has loads of stories to tell. Good memory. Can comeback from just about any setback. determined and will happily grind with you in missions for hours. Also pretty damn stubborn and doesn’t listen well to others, kinda has to speak first.

Zephyr: Life’s a breeze here, right? Kinda goes with whatever and has a hard time deciding on things. Kinda clumsy too. Crashes raids and blows away the enemy. Usually minds her own business with her head in the clouds.

Shit That Happened Sophomore Year of College

since my crazy freshman year post was a big hit, I thought you guys might enjoy a list of some of the weird things that happened this year! Enjoy!

  • someone yelling “BALL SACKS” at the tops of their lungs in the dorm hall while the clock tower chimed ominously in the distance
    • update: door slams five hours later, accompanied by a very annoyed “ball sacks, again”
    • update: week and a half later, someone slammed open the stairwell door, shouted “SUNDAY MORNING! BALL SACKS!” and then slammed it shut and ran down the stairs
    • update: it’s been 8 months. Every time I think the ball sacks guy is finally done, he shows up again at a random hour on a random day and shouts “BALL SACKS” down the hall for no known reason. I am frightened to try and learn more at this point.
  • those two semi-drunk guys on a Tuesday evening that were on a third floor balcony serenading some guys on a second floor balcony with Bohemian Rhapsody
  • that person who was laying face-down on the sidewalk in front of the University Center while crying and his friend was sitting next to him, gently patting him on the back (#same)
  • 2turmt
  • my first real injury in a sword fight
  • people slingshotting shirts off the roof of the English building
  • this conversation with my friend
    • “Get turnt. But get turnt responsibly.”
    • “Life motto.”
    • “Get it embroidered on a throw pillow.”
  • overheard in the library
    • “I dunno, I just don’t think I want to catch them all.”
    • “But you GOTTA catch ‘em all, bro! Don’t make me sing at you!”
  • the guy sitting in the parking lot outside of my dorm, smoking a joint in his car with a plastic skeleton wearing a bridal veil in the passenger seat
  • the RedBull guerrilla marketing teams that would wander around campus giving out free drinks because the campus store only has Monster
  • “You don’t understand, this malleophone is more valuable than my life.”
  • my ASL professor using a picture of Kanye West to teach us the sign for egotistical/big-headed
  • the former Swiss Army Knife CEO subbing for my management class and going on a small rant about Google buying and selling Motorola so much
  • The Smoking Bandit who almost killed me on a Tuesday night, and who cussed me out at 3:30 am a week later, but ended it with “love you!!!”
  • The Sexy Lumberjack Twins
  • conversation a day before the presidential election with my section leader
    • “What are you doing?”
    • “Crocheting. Avoiding news outlets.”
    • “Solid plan.”
  • overheard in line to get breakfast the Sunday before finals
    • “So then he calls me at like 3 am looking for weed and I’m like? Oh my god, no, let me finish this paper I don’t have any weed right now.”
  • “I know he’s kind of a fuckboi, but like… a fuckable fuckboi, you know?”
  • the beer stash in the locker room during spring semester that was liberally used before 10 am
  • “There’s pizza being neglected over here!” -instant mad scramble for the table-
  • overheard on the shared balcony attached to my room
    • “Siri, what the FUCK”
  • before a painfully early class
    • “I can’t recall where my phone is.”
    • “There’s a pun in there somewhere, who wants to take it?”
    • “Give me 20 minutes to finish my coffee first.”
  • LGBT Studies professor: “my gay agenda is maple syrup”
  • “I’m an American college student, I point and laugh at serving sizes.”
  • that time I slowly and dramatically flipped the bird at a classmate in the middle of my big presentation and the prof couldn’t even get mad about it because i had good reason
  • that theater teacher who still wears a kilt every day getting a tandem bicycle for no discernible reason
  • “It’s the oboe… of love.”
  • the Numa Numa song echoing across campus on a Monday afternoon like the ghosts of memes past
  • that time I’m 80% sure someone got a blowjob in the bathroom stall while I was taking a shower. It was 9:30 pm on a Thursday.
  • me to my friend with 3 stitches in his arm: “please be more careful on future midnight cheese runs”
  • the heated discussion between some of the music majors in the row in front of me before a faculty concert on the best butts in the department
  • actually this would be a good time to mention that some of the music business majors put together one of those Sexy Guys calendars (you know the kind, usually featuring firefighters and/or puppies) made up of the Hottest Guys™ within the music dept. I’m will waiting to find out where I can order one because I want to laugh at them all.
  • my music appreciation prof: “Using similes with toddlers is wild, I tell you. I was sick over break and told me 3 year old that I felt like I had been hit by a truck, and he asked me what color it was.”
  • this conversation I had with a wind player
    • “Why are you calling [the oboe professor] Bilbro Baggins?”
    • “Because we realized that the mocking name we used to call him had the same number of syllables as Bilbro Baggins, and he seems to respond to Bilbro even worse than to Obro.”
  • the tenors trying desperately to sing a bass part from a YouTube clip of an opera and failing miserably
  • the day of a big concert
    • And I have to go to goddamn Portland this weekend!”
    • “Which one?”
    • “The goddamn one!”
    • “…I meant which coast but yeah, okay.”
  • that Eastern European guy who just… shows up sometimes in front of the UC to sell overpriced posters
  • #laundryday
    • “Wow, you look really nice today! I like your leggings!”
    • “Thanks I ran out of clean pants this morning.”
  • “If you’re going to whistle something in this [the music] building, I’m gonna have to request something more original than Vivaldi’s Spring.”
  • “The art majors are trying to burn down the soccer field.”
    • “What, again?”
  • LGBT Prof: “Can you guys rec me some modern gay songs because all of my gay songs are from the 70s and 80s.”
  • Also LGBT Prof: “I’ve got sixty years of lesbian exes coming through for me, and most of them aren’t even my exes, actually.”
  • overheard in the library: “The gender neutral term for sugar daddy is glucose guardian.”
  • LGBT Prof brought in rainbow goldfish on the last day and the entire class cheered
  • “Shakespeare was a punk-ass bitch and, as an English major, I feel it is well within my rights to say that whenever I damn well please.”
  • I almost walked straight into a pole during finals week because I was falling asleep while walking. Don’t let the internet make you think sleep deprivation is cool and trendy, kids.
  • “Okay, so while you guys are taking the final, I’ll be up here on my computer. It’s gonna look like I’m writing comments on reports, but really I’m just surfing the web.”

anonymous asked:

Hello... sorry to bother but could you rec some sweet and cute yoonseok fics? (Length doesn't really matter) I'm feeling down and my internet is horrible I can't search anything on Google 😭 thank you in advance if you do... I love your blog so much!!!

Peter Pan and the Lost Boy by wicked_lovely (6,323)

Hoseok is cast as Peter Pan in the school play, and all he wants is someone to practice his lines with. Little did he know, he would find his own lost boy this way.

Medicated by sixtieshairdo (1,893)

As they were not allowed to have their mobile phones with them while attending a music show, they were only aware of the stream of ridiculous tweets Yoongi had posted only after the show ended, which led him to frantically worry that Yoongi had gotten himself drunk from their stash of alcohol in the house. Yoongi had not only taken photos of their televised performance and posted them with random captions, he’d also insisted that he loved them all twice, but the icing of the cake was his tweet that he was washing cherry tomatoes, ending it with his iconic Cypher part 3 closing line, “chop chop chop”.

The others had simultaneously groaned and cackled upon reading Yoongi’s tweet-vomit, but Hoseok was out of his mind worried that the stubborn little fool had gotten sick from alcohol poisoning and that he’d find Yoongi lying in a pool of sick once they entered their house.

He didn’t find Yoongi surrounded by his vomit on his bed. In fact, he didn’t find Yoongi on his bed at all.

The Still Point (Of The Turning World) by inkingbrushes (74,943)

Because Yoongi doesn’t know how this started, or how this will end, but he knows this simple fact: he knows that there is a love between them that is much fiercer than the burning sun. There is that love then, and there is that love now, and surely there will be that same love the next time.

(Or: the one where they’re reincarnated over and over again and Yoongi meets a different version of Hoseok every time but Yoongi is the only one that remembers.)

selene, interrupted at his music by jellyprince (tricycleamoving) (1,516)

“I want to look for my mother.” Yoongi blurts out. The weight of his choker suddenly feels more obvious, the crescent moon pendant heavy at the hollow of his throat.

In which Yoongi is a son of Selene, and Hoseok is the son of Dionysus that keeps him grounded.

Bright Light by signifying_nothing (6,288)

in which yoongi’s ridiculousness is hilarious, until it isn’t anymore.

Bitter & Sweet by soranosuzu (10,021)

Yoongi has been going to the same coffee shop every day for over a year now. He enjoys everything about his morning routine until Hoseok shows up and turns everything upside down. (In which Hoseok is a barista and Yoongi is a salty little shit)

color ring by jisoos (1,178)

hoseok swears he’s going to strangle his soulmate the second he meets him because are you serious? mint green? who the hell dyes their hair mint green? au where your hair changes color whenever your soulmate changes theirs.

And all this devotion (I never knew at all) by inkingbrushes (8,574)

Maybe Yoongi is actually really kind of fucking gone for his best friend.

(Also: Hoseok can’t sit on a secret for very long because he’s terrible at keeping secrets, which is only ironic because he loves Yoongi, too, and Yoongi hasn’t figured it out yet.)

Assembly Required by idyllicblue (6,851)

Hoseok finally moves out to live on his own but is all thumbs when it comes to putting furniture together. Thank god for a certain mint haired Ikea employee.

a question of luck by bazooklets (bazooka) (4,654)

It all started, Hoseok was pretty sure, when he was in his last year of college - and his body had gone on strike after way too many years of abusing it through cram school and tests and all nighters to finish papers at the last minute. It all started when he’d had six hours of sleep over five days and fell into bed and stared at the ceiling. It all started, Hoseok was pretty damn sure, with The Guy.

In which Hoseok has insomnia, and Yoongi has a really really nice voice.

First Day Back

AUTHOR’S NOTE — What can I say, yal? I really, really, really didn’t feel like going back to work after the Christmas holiday. So I got to thinking about what it would take to make me feel better… and unintentionally wrote some Harry Styles smut.

This is my very first time posting my writing online and I feel like I need to say that I wouldn’t have had the guts to post all, had I not fallen head first into the AMAZING writings of @xxoicurlyxx, @stilesharrystyles​ & @permanentcross​ these past few days. These ladies don’t know me, but they helped give me confidence that I, too, could share my words. So if you’re reading this, be sure to also check them out!

And without further ado…


“Ughh… I really don’t wanna go to work.”

It’s a complaint you’ve made no less than twenty times in the span of twenty minutes and even though you know that being a human broken record won’t change the fact that you need to have your ass at your desk within the hour for an important 9:00am client call, you have no plans to stop whining any time soon. Hell, you’ll whine right up until the moment you walk out the door if you want to.

Call it payback to the universe for making vacations go by so fast.

Harry is standing beside you, chuckling as he brushes his teeth over his half of the double sink. “S’gonna be okay, love. S’gonna fly by,” he says sweetly through a mouthful of Crest foam and you can’t help but think how it is such a Harry response - all patient and positive and supportive despite the numerous times you’ve repeated yourself. And if the precious twinkle in those emerald eyes are any indication, he’s not at all agitated with your insufferable whining.

Keep reading

Broken

Characters:  Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas

Summary:  Dean comes looking for the reader. 

Word Count:   2241

Warnings:  ANGST, Language, Smut, (I will be posting a final warning in the tags, I don’t want to give anything away.  If you are worried, be warned that this is hella fucking angsty and check the notes.)

A/N:  This is my submission for the angst challenge I’m hosting, Nichelle’s 4K Angst Challenge.  I chose the prompt, “The devil follows me day and night because he is afraid to be alone.”  

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

Broken

Ever had that feeling that someone is watching you? Your skin prickles, goosebumps fanning over your skin, even though it there’s no cool breeze. You shiver, the hair on the nape of your neck standing up. Imagine that feeling. I know you’ve felt it. Everyone has. Now imagine it’s not just a feeling.

Imagine it’s real.

The devil follows me day and night because he’s afraid to be alone. Or at least that’s my suspicion. I know he’s tracking me. When the hunter becomes the hunted, it’s time to change all your habits. Don’t be predictable. Do the unexpected.

But when the one who trained you to hunt is the one that is hunting you, that changes the things. It’s a whole new game, more complex and ultimately more dangerous. The rules are simple - there are none.

I’m not sure what he wants from me. I’m just damaged enough to think it’s because he still loves me. I’m not afraid of those black eyes. I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of my own treacherous heart. I know deep down that I can’t resist him. I won’t be able to deny him.

So instead of facing him, I run. As fast and as far as I can.

Keep reading

No Matter What. [Daryl Dixon x Reader]

Word Count: 2,893
Prompt: #40“You tried to shoot me!” 
                       “Next time, I won’t miss. Don’t piss me off again.”
Warnings: Language

[Part Two]

A/N: This is my first fic I’m posting on this blog so I’d love to hear what you all think! Thank you for reading(: & thank you to promptsfor-writers for the prompt!


Three days.

It had been three whole days since you had last eaten a real meal. Well as ‘real’ as you could get these days. You had managed to find some extremely stale crackers in a backpack you cut off a walker you put down over a day ago but you could hardly count those. They didn’t help the rumbling in your stomach. You finished off the last of your food stash almost a week ago when you were separated from your group when a herd of walkers came through your camp. Since then you had been combing the woods looking for any members of your group and rationing every bit of food you had. And that wasn’t much to begin with.

Keep reading

Distance

Synopsis: He still has to be chased, even when he is right next to her.

Length: 5734 words

Content Warning:  Rated T for language.

Notes: I have a big fat fucking art block again so here I am, writing some travelling SS headcanons down. I’ve been listening to a lot of Jessie Ware while I was writing this so get ready for a lot of relationship-related shenanigans. *wiggles around*



I. The Land of Wind


“I love you,” she says, out of the blue.

Her words catch him off guard and he freezes, unsure if he’d heard right.

They’d been standing together and surveying the vast expanse of sand that stretched out for miles beneath their feet. The stars that guided their way through the desert twinkled good-naturedly above them. The wind had picked up at that very moment, temporarily soothing the skin of his heated face.

He turns his head to look at her. Light green eyes, full of sincerity and a little of what he thinks is hope, steadily meet his gaze. There was no trace of irony, no hint of a smirk playing on her lips, no playful revising of her words in the seconds that followed. The way she said it was like how one would state what the weather was like today or if a particular meal had agreed with them or not- a simple fact.

It is a part of Sakura that he would never be able to understand. To her, this sentiment was a constant in her life, fixed to her (by perhaps some unknown entity with a twisted sense of humor) like the sun and moon were to day and night. To him, it was an unnatural, illogical, and most of all, terrifying variable.

Finding it difficult to look at her anymore, he turns his attention back to the distant horizon and tries to distract himself with other thoughts. He knows he should be grateful but in a way it irritates him to see that she thinks he is like some lovesick puppy, always wanting this constant, blatant reaffirmation of her love for him.

But what he hates, what he absolutely despises, is the fact that deep down he knows it to be true.


Keep reading

PREVIEW: Caution AU oneshot

This is a standalone, one shot AU fic/chapter of Caution. It is spoiler-free and the full version will be very NSFW. 

You do not need to be up-to-date on Caution to understand it, but non-readers may find it confusing. 

You can read Caution here.

(REMINDER: this is a preview, not the full story!)

***

Why stalk him when you can get me instead? xoxo, A.T.

This is the fifth letter Charles received, written in chicken scratch on a neon green index card and placed on his windshield wiper. 

He sighed, eyes still adjusting to the garish color. It figures Alec Turner’s signature color would be as hard to miss as his criminal activity. As obnoxious and unlovable as his very existence. At least the brat was a loyal boyfriend.

The letters started mere days after Charles arrested Credence James. The original charge was trespassing, but the fact he was holding one of his boyfriend’s stashes didn’t help matters.

On a whim, Charles flipped the card over. The whim paid off.

The Radisson. Conference Room C. 10 PM.


You didn’t know what you were expecting, but this wasn’t it. Your least favorite drug dealer was at a shitty hotel, at an event called “Club Teen.” Judging from the poster, it’s some sort of rave for high schoolers. Why anyone would go to a rave devoid of alcohol is beyond you. 

You’re surprised to learn such a thing exists, post-Facebook. You figured teenagers spend most of their time indoors these days, staring at screens and talking to dirty old men. Speaking of dirty old men, you’re sure to flash your badge at the management. 

Something you aren’t surprised to learn is that Turner would sink low enough to sell to kids. You’ve seen a lot of drug dealers in your day, and many of them prided themselves on having a no kid policy. Of course, Alec Turner was a special brand of douchebaggery. Not an especially evil guy, but he sure was ballsy. For fuck’s sake, what kind of criminal tips the police off to their location?
And that’s when you begin to wonder. 

Are you the dumbest piece of shit cop in the entire goddamn universe?  

Is this a fucking trap?

You are suddenly hyper-aware of the fact every element is the place is working against you. A crowd full of youths eating sliders. You stick out like a sore thumb. 

Why the fuck did he lead you here? What did he want?

Most importantly… where was he?

Alec, though older than his boy toy, could easily fit in with this crowd. You, on the other hand, are a moron. A moron walking around an idiotic crowd with one hand in your ear, the other holding a plate with a slider that resembled a melted hockey puck.

Where the fuck was that asshole?

The music switches over to another horrendous song. That’s when you see him.

The motherfucker was on the stage. That living, breathing bag of hoodies was the fucking DJ.

A scantily-dressed young woman came onto the stage. She was on the poster for the event. Some model on social media. The music stopped and spoke into the microphone.  "Alright, we’re winding down for the night, so it’s time to take it down a notch. If you’ve been eyeing someone, it’s now or never. This is our last slow jam.“ 

The colorful lights fade to dark, a spotlight on the makeshift dance floor. You eat a few sliders as you wait for this shitty rave-prom thing to end.
When the song ends, the lights are plain old white. You realize your hands are covered in ketchup.  After wiping them, you realize something else- Turner is gone.

Songs play from a stereo now. The DJ booth is still on the stage, but Alec abandoned it. 

That fucking prick.

He brought you here for nothing.

Just wait, you think. Maybe he’s coming back.

Like an idiot, you wait. Troves of teens leave. You wait until it’s just you, an empty DJ booth, and fake-breasted girl signing a few autographs.

Motherfucker. 

You storm out, to no avail. You resort to searching a cluster of teenagers waiting for the elevator but see no sign of him.

"Looking for someone?”

The voice comes from behind you. When you whip around, he’s against the wall, cool as a cucumber. He’d been there the entire time. You’re sure of it. He watches you look for him. You’re caught red-handed… not literally this time.

(continued below, mobile may not give the option to read the rest)

Keep reading

Match My Breathing

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky calms you down from a coughing fit.

Warnings: a bit of panic

Word Count: ~950

A/N: I’ve been really sick this past week, so shoutout to my coughing fit for inspiring this fic! Also thank you to @annadier and @oneshot-shit for calming my nerves and encouraging me to post this ^_^ P.S. This is my first fic ever so feedback would be much appreciated <3

Originally posted by coupleromance

It felt as if a dead weight had been strapped to your body – it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move. Your chest was rapidly rising and falling with each shallow breath. Suddenly, a coughing fit wracked your body, causing you to curl tighter into a ball. Your head pounded and your ribs ached from the force of each breath that left your lungs, but after what felt like an eternity, all was calm.

The light that was once causing shadows to dance around the dark room ceased and was replaced by a soft blue glow. You let out a shaky breath and blinked once in an attempt to adjust your eyes to the dim light that filtered through the room. Slowly, you shifted into a sitting position, groaning as a dull ache spread through your muscles. You leaned over as you placed the remote next to your ever-growing pile of tissues.

Why did you always run out of tea at the most inconvenient times?

Keep reading

Out-d*cking a stingy roommate. Suffer!

(warning: long story)

The Backstory

I attend a university in Boulder, CO. If you don’t know, living expenses are quite… ludicrous here. Therefore I got an apartment with my 3 best friends since elementary school. We grew up pretty well off in a very upper middle class suburban area of Denver… this is relevant.

As part of furnishing our apartment, every family pitched in $100 to buy this awesome 12 person sectional suede couch. It was used, and in great shape. Everything else came from individual families, but everyone pitched in equally for what we needed. This couch will be the subject of the story.

The three roommates, with changed names, we’ll call them John, Taylor, and Nigel. Taylor, Nigel, and I all study profusely for our technical degrees, as where John has switched from his technical degree to biology to pursue medical school (good for him). However, it was this change that precipitated a whole shitstorm that I will now explain.

Keep reading

The Captain Loves Who

I know I should be updating How To Snare A Life. So while my drawing hand is currently refusing to cooperate, I am writing chapter 18 (and 19 and 20 in the process).

I found this little bit in my stash. It’s LawLu but it’s told from Sanji’s perspective. Or this “chapter” is like that at least. There’s something about our beautiful blonde cook that makes me want to post this. His dad has been an annoying fucker in the recent chapters seriously Judge how dare you do that to Sanji you unforgivable excuse for a father AND CAN WE JUST GET SANJI TO KICK THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF HIS BROTHERS BECAUSE I’M SURE AS HELL THAT HE CAN AND SOMEONE TELL ZORO THAT SANJI CAN USE A SWORD PLEASE AHSDAHDKALDHSA

This story’s hinting on a second chapter. I have no ending for it yet, but I have some antics to go with it. I haven’t proofread this or anything and it’s one of those times when I feel like writing in the present tense. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet but if it’s not too much to ask, please give it a read and let me know what you think. Thanks!


The Captain Loves Who

Surviving in the New World is not cakewalk. Luffy is an idiot. Strong captain but idiot captain. Maybe this alliance is a good idea. Oh. The sauce.

Sanji lifts his head from the chopping board and whirls to get a ladle and a potholder to lift the lid on a large pot on the stove, stirring his red sauce before taking a spoonful for a taste. He nods to himself, obviously pleased because, yeah,  it tastes great and it would be a sin not to appreciate that. It’s going to do fantastic with the sea king Law’s crew had hauled in for today’s unscheduled-but-Luffy-was-bored-and-Torao-called-and-this-happened rendezvous. It’s becoming weird and creepy how these two captains had been in-sync when it comes to “okay let’s decide on meeting up right now”. Selfish motherfuckers. They didn’t even have a reason to see each other.

“Sanji.”

That’s Luffy’s voice coming from the other side of the room. He’s been running in and out of the kitchen if not just sitting around the dining table waiting for food to be served. Sanji had been this close to just kicking out his bouncy ass but then the boy suddenly went silent and Sanji had to cook, which made him forget that his captain was still in the vicinity. Until now.

Keep reading

2

I Can’t Wait to Hear You Scream PT. 15

Summary: You finally make it back to the Sanctuary and everything seems like a regular night, until you have to go back out.

Note: I’m sorry it’s been a couple days since I last posted and I apologize if this part isn’t too good.
Writer’s block is my enemy right now.

Warning: Fucking cursing. Beginning of more smut and VIOLENCE.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“I’m going to kill you. And you know what? You totally deserve it.” - Kelly Thompson

-

You walked back to the truck with Negan. Daryl was walking slowly behind the both of you, keeping his distance.

You heard the roar of an engine and you turned to see Dwight pulling up to Daryl on his motorcycle.
You slowed down the pace of your walk, falling behind Negan’s fast stride, being curious of what Dwight was doing.

“You can have it back.. All you have to do is say the word.” Dwight said staring at Daryl with a serious look on his face.

Daryl said nothing to him, he looked at the bike that Dwight was on - the bike that belonged to Daryl - then he dropped his head down.

Dwight shook his head, “Suit yourself then.”

Dwight looked over to see you looking at the both of them, “(Y/N), I’m heading back. Put him in the truck,” he said motioning to Daryl “And make sure he stays put. Can you handle that?”

You looked to Daryl, who was now glancing in your direction, “Yeah, I’ve got it, Dwight.”

“Thanks.” He said in a dull tone and revved the bike engine a couple times before he took off.

“Well, c'mon.” You said to Daryl in a sympathetic tone.
You were trying your best to be stern towards him, but it was still a hard thing to do no matter how tough you acted and something you’d have to get used to doing.
You headed back to the truck with Daryl following behind you.
Negan was leaning on the side of it eyeing you as you walked up to get in.

“What took you so damn long?” He asked, looking from Daryl to you.

“Dwight took the bike. He asked me to make sure Daryl got in.” You said, as you set your bag down into the cab of the truck.

“Well, I’ve got it fuckin’ covered from here darlin’.” He said, leaning back up as he pointed to Daryl, “You. Get the fuck in the back, we’re moving out.”

Daryl moved without a word to the back of the truck and crawled in amongst the crowded storage unit of the truck where all the supplies that had been grabbed from Alexandria were now stashed.
You crawled into the front and he got into the driver’s side.

The truck led the small convoy you were with to the end of the highway that led to Alexandria and came to a stop.
You looked over at Negan wondering why all the vehicles were stopping in the middle of the road.

Negan looked over to you and smiled, “Are you ready to see something fuckin’ cool babydoll?” He said excitedly.

You raised an eyebrow, “Uh, sure?”

You both got out of the truck and walked to the one parked beside you as Simon, Arat and some of the others were pulling the mattresses out of the back and throwing them into the road.

“Negan, why are they throwing the mattresses out?” you asked in confusion.

Negan put Lucille on his shoulder and pulled a lighter out of his pocket, “It’s part of this ongoing fuckin’ attitude adjustment, darlin’.”

You understood once you saw the lighter in his hand.
Once all the mattresses were piled in the road you all gathered around it.

“We had a good fuckin’ day today, gentlemen.. and ladies.” Negan said, slightly bowing to you and Arat.
You smiled back at him, with a bit of a blush.
Arat stood there stone-faced, she didnt care how she was addressed could tell she was a ‘take no bullshit’ type of woman.

“Now, these fucks are gonna learn to listen to us, because it’s a new world with new goddamn rules. We are the Saviors. And we are in charge of this fuckin’ shit, no goddamn exceptions.” He said leaning back, “So, let’s leave Rick and his little friends a fuckin’ message, shall we?” He said, looking around the crowd with a big smile.

You could hear “yes” throughout the group, everyone was smiling and egging Negan on.
He struck the lighter with his thumb and bent down to put the flame near one of the mattresses and it slowly caught on fire, the flames began to spread across the beds. The Saviors began laughing and praising the burning beds that belonged to the group.
you stood there and watched them burn slowly.
You didn’t feel bad about it, but you didn’t feel great about it either.
But with Michonne threatening you both, whatever guilt you had felt over it was fading fast.

The mattresses were left there to smolder on the highway, the smoke billowing up into the sky as you and the rest of the crew made your way back to the sanctuary.
You had a lot of things running through your mind and mainly about what Arat had told you; that Randy was still out there and he might have a group of men behind him.
It made you wonder if he had plans to come back with his own group and try to attack the sanctuary.
It wracked your nerves to even think about it.
There was silence for a while, until Negan glanced over at you, studying the look on your face.

“Darlin’, you don’t tend to stay this fuckin’ quiet this long. What’s the problem?” He said matter-of-factly.

You looked over to him and you knew he could see the concerned look on your face as you were lost in thought.
Negan was good in that way, there really wasn’t anything you could ever get past him, he had the talent of being able to read you like a book since the moment you met him.

“I was thinking. Arat told me that you still had them looking for Randy and that before he came to the sanctuary, that he had a group of his own.” You said, as you stared out the window of the truck.

Negan shifted in his seat, averting his gaze back to the road, “Yeah, he was passing through with a fuckin’ group of men a couple months back. So, we took half their shit of course and they didn’t put up much of a fight. That’s when Randy fuckin’ joined us. He said he’d rather be on a winning fuckin’ team.” Negan said, biting his lip angrily.

“Well, I’ll ask you like I asked her; do you think he’d try to meet up with his old group and try to attack us?” You said bluntly.

Negan smirked and looked back over to you, “Darlin’, is that what the fuck you’re over there looking like a damn deer in headlights about? That little fuckin’ prick?”

“Yes. I just.. I just don’t want anything to happen.” You said slowly.

Negan said nothing else to you as the truck pulled up to the gates of the sanctuary.

People quickly ran to open the gates as the saw it was Negan, all the while killing stray walkers that were coming up out of the woods.
Negan pulled into the yard and turned off the engine.
You huffed in a low tone at him not answering you and grabbed your bag, trying to make a quick exit and Negan grabbed you by the arm.
You looked back to him with furrowed brows to see him giving you a stern expression.

“Look, we’ll fuckin’ talk about this later, okay? Don’t start getting all pissy. Just get your shit put up and get some fuckin’ food. You look like you need it.” He said in his deep tone, before letting your arm go.

You opened the door and hopped out of the cab, it wasn’t until he said that, that you realized it had been a couple days since you last ate and now you recognized how hungry you really were.
He hopped out of the other side and walked over to gather with the Saviors to give them more orders on where to put the stuff they had gotten.
you walked off towards the main building and got stares from people here and there, everyone looked scared of you after what happened to Amber.
Even more so now to see that you had a gun on you.

You made your way up to your own room. When you got in, you set your bag down onto the desk that was near the door and pulled off your shoulder holster and set in down on the desk as well.
You walked over to the cot to take a seat.
You were hungry, but you didn’t feel much like going back down at the moment, you were pretty tired after what had happened today and just needed to rest your eyes for a moment, so you laid back and closed your eyes.
It took about five minutes before you fell completely asleep.
-
You were walking down a dark, narrow corridor, you could hear screams of people and the groans of walkers.
You started walking faster as you could hear something behind you, you turned your head back quickly, but all you could see was darkness.
You picked up the pace even more, trying to flee, but you weren’t quick enough as you were pushed into a dimly lit room.
Your eyes adjusted as you could see you were surrounded by a group of men, you desperatley tried to crawl away from them.
You looked up to see Randy standing in front of you.

He gave a wicked toothy grin to you, “Nice to see you again, (Y/N).”

You gritted your teeth as you tried to stand, but some of the other men quickly grabbed you by the arms and held you tightly. Randy prowled up to you slowly, grabbing you by the face.

“I told you we were gonna take this fucking place over, didn’t I?” He growled in a deep voice.

“Fuck you.” You spat back at him.

The men in the group all chuckled.

Randy tightened his grip on your face, “Chain her ass up.”

You looked around frantically as the men drug you off into another room, trying to fight your way out of their grip.
They slung you against a wall as one of them held you as the other chained your arms to the

“You son of a bitch” You growled out to Randy as he was walking up to you.

He gave you another chuckle, “It’s only fair. This place is mine now.” He whispered into your ear, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You grunted and started kicking at him, landing a couple blows to his shins. He gave you a menacing look and punched you into the face. But you didn’t care about the pain.

“Where’s Negan?” You growled to him.

Randy smiled again, “You don’t have to worry. He’s fucking gone.”

“Where?!” You bellowed as a wild look spread across your face.

Randy chuckled, “Calm down, honey.” As he held out and arm.

You narrowed your eyes with a smile, “He’ll fucking kill you.”

Randy laughed, “I doubt that.”

He brought a hand from behind his back. He was holding a bloody Lucille.

“Like I said. Gone.” Randy said, gripping her tight.

You screamed out to him and violently pulled at the chains holding you up, trying your best to fight your way out of them to get your hands around his throat.

He shook his head, “Don’t worry, you’ll see him soon.” He said in a calm tone as he brought Lucille back.

All you could see was her bloody end coming straight for your face and then there was darkness again.
-
You shot up with a yelp, you could feel the sweat running down your brow as you looked around in the darkened room.
It was a nightmare.
You were still looking around frantically, your heart was beating fast in your chest.
You hadn’t been this scared in a very long time, especially over a nightmare.

“Goddamnit.” You said in a labored breathe, brushing your hair out of your face.

You sat there to compose yourself and let your adrenaline settle.
After a moment, you took in a deep breathe to clear your head and stood up.
It was dark in the room, the sun had already set.

You decided to head out of the room and go downstairs to finally get some food.
you made your way down to the cafeteria to see a good bit of people still in there, so you couldn’t have been asleep for too long.
When you arrived to the kitchen, Brian was handing out some food to some people who were standing in line and when he saw you he waved you up to the front.
You walked over to him, cutting the line of people and they said nothing of course.
Brian handed you a plate with some meat on it.

“It’s deer.” He said as he saw you eyeing it.

You smirked, it was the deer that Michonne had killed.

You took a bite out of it, and it was surprisingly good or either it was just the fact that you were extremely hungry.

“Negan said to make sure you eat. And he’s looking for you, by the way.” Brian said, handing out what was left of the food to the others.

“Where’s he at?” He asked, putting some more of the food into your mouth, hungrily.

“The rec room with Dwight and Simon.” He answered back.

You nodded and thanked him for the food as you finished it, before making your way out of the cafeteria.

You walked down the long corridor until you reached the familiar room.
The room was empty of people aside from Negan who was leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up on a table with a liquor bottle in his hand as he watched Simon and Dwight go through some of the guns that they had taken today.

You knocked hard on the door frame to let them know you were there.
Simon and Dwight glanced up at you then back down to the guns.
Negan craned his neck around to see you standing in the doorway.

“Where the fuck were you, darlin’?” He asked, taking a drink of the alcohol.

You walked over towards the table where they were all sitting, “I went to put my stuff up and I fell asleep.” You said, remembering the nightmare you had.

You closed you eyes for a minute and tried to shake it off as you pulled up a chair and sat down at the table, looking over all the pistols that were laying out. Negan eyed you a little bit as you still seemed to be a little nervous over it, then shook his head.

“Well, remind me not to ever fuckin’ put you on goddamn guard duty.” He chuckled.

You smirked and looked over to him, “Why did you wanna see me?”

He looked at you rising an eyebrow “Well fuck, darlin’. Maybe I just wanted you around.”

Dwight and Simon looked up at you and Negan.

“Do you want us to go, boss?” Simon asked.

Negan looked back over to him setting the bottled down, “Fuck no. You need to get those fuckin’ guns in the inventory and put the fuck up. I want it don’t by tonight.”

“Gotcha.” Simon said, going back to the notebook he had been writing down information on.

Negan stood up and grabbed Lucille and the liquor bottle from the table,
“C'mon, darlin’.” He said to you in a deep tone as he began to walk out of the room.

You didn’t follow him right away.
You just stood there looking at him.

He turned around to look back towards you, “Don’t make me fuckin’ ask twice, babydoll.” He said, licking his lips.

He started walking off again and this time you followed behind him as usual.

You made it up to Negan’s floor and went into his room.
He set Lucille down in her usual spot on the desk and slung his jacket on the coat rack as he pulled a chair out from under the desk and took a seat.
He took a long drink from the bottle he had and made a pained fast, “Fuck, that shit is strong. You want some?” He said offering the bottle.

You walked over to him and reached out for it, “Sure as long as I don’t get in trouble like last time.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Nah, babydoll. You’ve got fuckin’ permission this time.” He said with a wink.

You smirked and pressed the bottle to your lips, taking a long drink from it. You had understood what he meant.
You coughed a little bit and handed it back to him.

He chuckled, “Awe what’s wrong, darlin’, can’t fuckin’ take it?”

You scoffed, “You don’t know what I can take.”

Negan bit his lip and set the bottle down and grabbed you by the arm, yanking you down to him.
You gripped onto his shirt to keep from falling.

He smiled, “Oh trust me babydoll, I know what the fuck you can take.” He growled seductively as he put a hand up to grab a handful of your hair.

“Are sure you don’t want one of the other wives for that job?” You gave a devilish smirk back to him.

He gripped your hair tighter and pulled you to his eye level, “Fuck no. I want you, darlin’.”

You blushed and lowered your gaze from his dark eyes.

He chuckled again and put his mouth to your ear with his beard rubbing against your face, “Mmm. I see I still know how to fuckin’ get to you.”

You shuddered as he whispered into your ear.
You could feel the familiar excited chill run down your spine.
His voice had the ability to turn you on just as fast as his touch could - if not faster.
You bit your lip and threw a leg over both of his as you climbed into his lap, straddling him.
He released your hair and placed both hands firmly on your ass, holding you in his lap.

“I should still be a little jealous.” You said, biting your lip in a sensual way as you looked back to him.

“Fuckin’ jealous about what?” He asked, looking back into your eyes.

“Today in Alexandria when you were asking for Maggie.” You said blunty.

He smiled and shook his head, “Yeah, number two’s wife. Well, atleast I know her fuckin’ name now. Mad because I wanted her to come back here, babydoll?”

You bit your lip and and nodded with a serious look.

“Have you always been fuckin’ jealous?”

You shook your head, “No. I can honestly say I’ve never been this territorial, until I met you.” You said, sucking your teeth.

“You’re such a fuckin’ jealous little girl.” He smirked, gripping your ass tighter.

“Well, you did say I was your favorite.” You said, resting your arms on his shoulders.

He nodded, “Yeah, I fuckin’ did. I like you the best out of all of them, I even like the fuckin’ jealousy. It’s sexy. Hell, you fuck better than any of them anyway.”

You smirked somberly.
You were hoping he would have said something a little more meaningful than just how good of a fuck you were, but that wasn’t in Negan’s nature.
He was crude and blunt about things, and you didn’t mind.
But you craved for him to be loving.

Negan looked at you and squinted, “Please, don’t get fuckin’ emotional on me, darlin’.”

You snapped out of your thoughts and rolled your eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m not.”

He licked his lips, “Is today still fuckin’ bothering you?”

You blinked and lowered your head a bit, “Like I said, I just don’t want anything to happen. I don’t want the fucker to come in here with a fucking group of people and try to kill us.”

Negan grabbed you by your face firmly and pulled it to his, “Look (Y/N), there are over 70 of us here. That motherfucker is getting nowhere near this place and even if he does, we will fuckin’ take him out. Do you understand?”

You didn’t answer him right away, you just looked back at him.
You could see that he was starting to get agitated over the situation.

He gripped your face a little tighter, “Do you fuckin’ understand, darlin’?”

You nodded, “Yes, I understand.”

He let your face go, “Good girl, and for fucks sake stop rolling those eyes at me.” He grabbed your ass again and pulled you in closer, “Keep doubting me and I’ll fuckin’ give you something to worry about.” He growled seductively into your ear.

You bit your lip, “Now that I don’t doubt.”

He smirked, and took a hand to lay it on your throat and squeezed firmly, “Do you need a fuckin’ replay?” He said in a deep tone.

You smiled and bit your lip and before you could answer him, there was a loud knock at the door.

“Boss!” You could hear Dwight saying loudly from outside.

Negan shot a hostile look towards the door, “What the fuckin’ hell do you want, Dwight? This better be a goddamn good one.”

“There were a couple men found sneaking around the front gates and they have a camp a few miles down the road. You need to come quick.” Dwight said urgently.

Negan looked to you and quickly jumped out of the chair, setting you on the floor. He grabbed his jacket off the rack, putting it on and grabbing Lucille.

“Go to your fuckin’ room and get your gear, darlin’.” Negan said opening the door to be met by Dwight, “How fuckin’ many?”

“Four at the gate that were caught by some of the crew and we have some guys going to the camp now. They said there were five other people at their camp.” Dwight said staring at Lucille nervously.

You quickly ran down the hall to your room and busted through the door, grabbing your shoulder holster and throwing it on while unzipping the duffle bag to pull out some bullets and putting them into your pocket.

You quickly made your way back out to see Negan and Dwight were gone, so you ran downstairs to meet up with them out front.
In the yard you could see four men kneeled down into the dirt with bloody noses as Negan paced back and forth in front of them, his anger was brewing as he swung Lucille around in his hand.

He stopped and stood in front of them for a minute shifting his gaze from person to person, “Well, this shit fuckin’ sucks to see you came all this way for fuckin’ nothing because, guess what? We’re going right back to your goddamn camp. You wanna come up in my fuckin’ house and try to fuck with me? Well, let’s see what the fuck your home has to offer. Load them the fuck up.” He ordered to the saviors.

Simon, Dwight and some other crew members came up to the men and drug them all off to one of the nearby trucks.
You walked up to Negan slowly and he looked back to see you.
His face was still filled with anger.

“So, what’s the plan?” You asked softly.

“The plan is we make them fuckin’ pay. Now I don’t know who the fuck they’re associated with, and we’re not taking any fuckin’ chances.” He growled, staring back at you.

“Sounds fair to me.” You answered back, eyeing the men being loaded into one of the trucks.

“Now, are you sure that you’re fucking ready for this shit, darlin’?” He asked as he licked his lips, giving you his usual look.

You smirked, “Negan, I’ve been in one of your lineups. So, being on the other side is gonna be a relief.”

You both went to the same truck you had driven earlier to Alexandria.

“Watch Lucille work some fuckin’ overtime. It’s gonna be a long fuckin’ night, darlin’.” He gave you a menacing grin.

And just like that you were all headed off again, you didn’t mind it, but you were sorta tired and the nightmare didn’t help any.
What you really wanted was to lay down with Negan, you just wanted to fall asleep and be near him, but it would have to wait for now.
The safety of the sanctuary came first and you understood that.
It took about 20 minutes to get to the camp where the men had come from.

They were all living in what looked like a small rundown department store with a chain link fence around it, which had been busted down the by the other Saviors that were already there.
The truck pulled up into the parking lot and you could see the other 5 people from the camp and they were already kneeled down in front of the store with Saviors surrounding them, waiting on Negan to arrive.

You could feel your adrenaline begin to rise up as the truck came to a stop.
Negan opened the door and stepped out and you opened yours, getting out as well and closed the door and just stood there.

“Let’s meet the man!” You heard one of the Saviors say in a cheerful voice.

Negan walked around the truck to where the lineup was, you could see the eyes of people widening as they saw Lucille propped on Negan’s shoulder as he beamed proudly from ear to ear.
His dimples making deep indents on his face.
Even when he was doing something completely horrifying, you still found him irresistible.

“Are we pissing our motherfuckin’ pants yet?” Negan said to the lineup with a smile.

Everyone kneeling looked around scared, not knowing what to do. There were two women in the lineup.
You rolled your eyes absent-mindedly to yourself as you saw them.

“If you aren’t, boy, I have a feeling it won’t take fucking long before you are.” Negan chuckled, “Because I am very pissed off.” Negan growled tightening his grip on the bat as he began pacing back and forth in front of the row.

There was complete silence from everyone, except Negan.
You could see the fear on the faces of the lineup, lit up by a nearby trash barrel that was on fire, it was the only source of light.

Negan turned and looked to Simon and Dwight who were standing at the back of the truck, “Get those other assholes and bring them the fuck out here.”

The 4 men who were caught were then drug back out of the truck and thrown into the pavement to kneel with the rest of their group.

Negan licked his lips, “Now, I’m gonna ask nicely this one fuckin’ time. Why were you at my fuckin’ gates?” He said to the group of people.

Everyone was looking down to the ground or either staring straight ahead.
You could see Negan’s temper growing even shorter.

He calmy walked up closer to one of the men and lowered Lucille to him, the man looked up, his eyes wide with fear.

Negan pointed Lucille out to him, “Do you know why the fuck they were there?” He asked in an annoyed voice.

The man shook his head, “No, I- I-”

“Then you’re of no goddamn fuckin’ use to me, are you?” Negan smiled as he quickly raised Lucille and brought it down onto the man’s head.

The whole lineup gasped and one of the women started screaming and crying.
He must have been her husband or boyfriend.
You could hear screaming from the second woman in the group, clearly they had never seen anything this intense, even in the world you were living in now.

Negan brought Lucille above his head again and brought her down onto the man’s skull with brutal force as his skull cracked open like an egg.
The blood began spilling out onto the pavement and the woman who was crying was now trying to back away from the pool of blood that was spreading towards her.
Lucille was now dirty and bloody.

Negan held her out to the group, “Do I have everyone’s goddamn attention now? Because that shit could have been avoided for atleast another ten goddamn minutes.” He swung Lucille around, slinging blood all over the people, “I mean, you didn’t even give me a fuckin’ chance to properly introduce you to one of my girls,” he held out the bloody, flesh-tangled bat, “This here.. This is Lucille, and she is fuckin’ awesome.”

The woman on the ground was still crying and shaking as she started at the bloody mess on the ground.
You just stood there in looked on.

Negan leaned back and took in a breathe, “Now, I’m pretty fuckin’ pissed that not only did I have to leave the comfort of was my own goddamn home after a long motherfuckin’ day, but this lack of goddamn cooperation you’re already giving me isn’t fuckin’ cool.”

Negan put Lucille back on his shoulder and began pacing around again, “What I wanna know is which one of you fuckers is the leader of this shitty little outfit? Because I’m willing to bet that, that fuckin’ person is the goddamn genius behind it.” Negan said matter-of-factly, pointing to the line of men that were caught back at the sanctuary, snapping his fingers at the group.

One of the kneeling men, held his head up. He had long dark hair and a beard to match, with a scar running down his cheek.

“I am..” He said slowly, making eye contact with Negan.

Negan sucked his teeth and stepped over to the man, towering over him.

“And what’s you’re fuckin’ name?” Negan said with a smile.

“Vernon.” The man answered back, dropping his eyes from Negan’s intense gaze.

“Vernon?” Negan said with a twang in his voice, mimicking the country accent that the man had.

Negan turned to you and motioned you forward.
You approached him slowly, looking from the man back to Negan.
Negan rested his arm on your shoulder as you walked up to him.

“Now, I’ll be fuckin’ blunt with all of you.” Negan said as he held out Lucille, pointing the the group, “I’m pissed because you thought it was cool to fuck around with my shit, but I’m also pretty fuckin’ pissed that you interrupted my time with my wife (Y/N) here.”

The group all glanced up to you and back to Negan.

“I was about to get my dick fuckin’ wet and be balls deep in her, but now I’m out here fuckin’ around with you useless goddamn pricks.” Negan said bluntly.

You could feel your cheeks reddening at his crude words.
You shifted your eyes up to him and he looked back at you to give you a wink.
But the group didn’t care about what he was saying, they could only look on in horror at both of you.
They were starting to look like they regretted crossing Negan now.

“Well, let’s not waste anymore fuckin’ time shall we?” Negan said as he grabbed Vernon up by his jacket collar and slung him to the ground again, “Simon, load him into the fuckin’ truck. I’m not done with him.”

Negan turned back around and pointed to the rest of the group, he was counting who was left.

Negan whistled, “There’s seven of you fuckers left.. Now, usually I’d give you a damn choice of working for me or coming back to my fuckin’ amazing sanctuary for protection if you work, but seeing as how half of your group was there uninvited. I don’t trust a single motherfuckin’ one of you.” He growled, looking over each of the people kneeling.

He walked over to the sobbing woman who’s knees were now soaked in blood from the man laying beside her.
Negan kneeled down in front of her.

“He brought this shit on his fuckin’ self sweetheart.” Negan said pointing to the dead man beside her.

She sobbed, “Ple- please don’t h- hurt me..”

Negan smiled weakly and bit his lip, “Me? I’m not gonna do a fuckin’ thing to you.”

He got back up and walked over to you and looked back to the woman who seemed to be calming down somewhat at the thought that she was safe.

Negan licked his lips and gave a slow wicked smile to her, “However.. I didn’t say a goddamn thing about what my wife is gonna fuckin’ do to you though. She is the jealous type.”

You’re eyes widened a bit as you looked to him.

“Negan.” You said in a low tone.

He walked up to you slowly and smirked, “C'mon darlin’, I wanna see you take charge. They fucked with us first, so either way, they have to fuckin’ pay. So, let me fucking see you take over for a bit.”
He growled seductively.

You took in a nervous breathe, but he was right.
They fucked with all of you first and with everything going on you knew that they were a threat.
A threat for Negan and for you.

You walked over to the woman slowly who looked up to you with fearful eyes.
You kneeled down in front of her.

“What’s your name?” You asked slowly.

You looked back to see Negan with Lucille on his shoulder and staring at you.

“Melissa.” She said nervously.

You turned back to her, “Well Melissa, any idea why your people were fuckin’ around where I live?”

Melissa sucked in a shaky breathe, “How am I supposed to know?”

“You fucking live here with them, don’t you?” You smirked to her.

“Yes, I do.” Melissa said in a calmer tone.

“Then that tells me that you do know. Look, just girl to girl, why?” You said shrugging.

Melissa seemed to be gritting her teeth, “Everybody knows about the saviors.. You have everything and the rest of us were left with nothing. So, fuck you.”

You bit your lip angrily.

“That’s not my problem.” You said sternly.

“You know, she could come back as a wife.” You heard Negan say.

You could hear his footsteps approaching and suddenly he was kneeling beside you as he shoved Lucille’s bloody end into the ground.

You gritted your teeth at the thought of it.
He was trying to make you angry.

“Is that so?” You asked eyeing her more intensely now.

“Yeah, of course she fuckin’ could.” Negan said chuckling.

He smiled at the woman, who was now looking back and forth to both of you.

“What do you say sweetheart? I mean your, whatever the fuck he was to you.” Negan said pointing to the bloody body again, “He’s fuckin’ gone.”

The woman stared at the body for a moment and then to Negan again as she began to nod slowly.
You could feel your anger growing even more as Negan asked her this and the fact that she was saying yes.

Negan looked to you as you stared at the woman with fire raging in your eyes.

He then looked back to the woman and let out a loud chuckle, “You think I’m fuckin’ serious? I don’t want a wife that’ll fuckin’ steal from me. Besides this hot fuckin’ little thing in front of you.” He said moving his head in your direction, “Is the jealous type. And I would hate to miss out on a goddamn opportunity to watch her fuckin’ work.”

He smiled and stood up and you did the same.

He looked back over to you and licked his lips, “Do it, Darlin’.”

You knew what he meant. And without another word and some hesitation, you pulled out your gun, cocking it.
you pointed it to the woman’s head quickly and pulled the trigger.
The gun was powerful enough to make her skull look like she had went a couple rounds with Lucille.
you could feel the spray of blood as it hit your face.
Everything seemed to be in slow motion. You could hear the next round of screams and gasps from the group.

You could still feel your coursing through you, but outright killing someone like this was different.
Of course you had killed Amber, but she had truly deserved it.
This woman was with a group that was planning to rob the sanctuary and by Negan’s law she deserved it as well and you knew that she did too, but you being the one to have to do it was a weird feeling, even if her saying yes to becoming a wife angered you enough to pull the trigger.

But you had to admit there was a strange power behind it.
And without hesitation this time you walked over to the second woman in the group, you stood over her for a minute just watching.
She was breathing hard as she looked back at you, but she didn’t say anything.
You pointed the gun at her and she breathed even harder as she gritted her teeth.
You let out a breathe pulled the trigger for a second time, followed by an explosion of blood.

“Goddamn, that’s the kind of fuckin’ shit I like to fuckin’ see from my girl.” Negan praised loudly as he leaned back, biting his lip at you.

He was grinning as he walked back over to the lineup and stood in front of one of the other men.

He raised Lucille, “Well, back to it.” He said with a smile as he brought her down onto another unlucky person’s skull.

It took another hour for everything to end.
You looked at the four people laying lifeless on the ground as the pool of blood grew bigger and bigger.
You hadn’t ever seen brutality of this magnitude and even if you were part of it, it was still unnerving to look at.
You had hoped in time you’d get used to it, this night wasn’t one that you’d forget and seeing it made you thankful that you were on Negan’s side and that he liked you.

Negan looked over the three remaining men in the lineup, “Now do you see what the hell happens when you fuck around with the wrong people?”

The men were all shaking and drenched in sweat, they said nothing and didn’t even dare to make eye contact with him.

Negan chuckled, “Look, I’m fuckin’ tired and I’ll give you goddamn gentlemen a break. So, since you have seen that this isn’t a fuckin’ game we’re playing, how about you come the fuck back with me. Maybe after a little fuckin’ solitary, you can become assets to me and work, or fuckin’ get killed and work for me as dead men.”

The men all looked up and nodded again, knowing full well that the next option wouldn’t be pleasant.

Negan smiled, “Fan-fuckin-tastic. I believe we have come to a goddamn agreement.”

Negan snapped his fingers and some of the Saviors grabbed the remaining men up and drug them into the truck.
You stood there, watching them being pushed into the back of a different truck that Vernon was in.
You weren’t sure why Negan wanted to talk to Vernon, but you were sure that in time you would find out.

Negan walked over to you and you looked up to him as he approached you.

“Well, darlin’?” He asked as Lucille was dripping blood everywhere on the ground.

You blinked and raised and eyebrow, “Well what?”

Negan sorta rolled his eyes and smiled back at you, “How does it fuckin’ feel to take charge?”

He came up closer to you and put out his gloved hand to wipe away some blood that had splattered onto your face.
You could feel the familiar chill yet again.

You took in a breathe and smirked, “I don’t feel sorry for them if that’s what you mean. But it’s like I said, im just not used to it.”

“It’ll get easier. Because goddamn if watching you take the reigns wasn’t one of the biggest goddamn turn ons.” He smirked as he licked his lips.

You smiled and shook your head at him, “A turn on, huh?”

He scoffed and nodded, “Fuck yeah, that’s what I fuckin’ said. And seeing as how I found it so goddamn hot; when we get back, I’m gonna fuck the hell outta you.”

Negan suddenly grabbed you by the throat again and pulled you to him, kissing you hard.
You bit his lip and slid your tongue into his mouth.
He squeezed you tighter by the neck as he dropped Lucille to his side.
He moved the hand that was on your neck down and grabbed you by the ass pulling you up onto him.
You could feel his erection and he forced you to grind onto him.

“Fuck. Keep fuckin’ doing that, darlin’ and I’ll fuck you right here. I don’t give a fuck.” He growled into your mouth as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip.

You smiled wickedly and ran your hand down his body, until you reached the outside of his pants and you began rubbing his cock through them.
He hissed and grabbed you by the back of the hair.

“Alright darlin’, you fuckin’ asked for it. Inside fuckin’ right goddamn now.” He said moving his head into the direction of the store that the group had been living in.

You bit your lip again, “What about everyone else?”

Negan snorted, “Fuck them. They’ll understand what the fuck is going on when they hear your ass screaming my name. Now get that fuckin’ sweet ass inside.” He growled seductively into your ear.

You bit your lip and could feel yourself growing wet now.
Negan kept a grip on your hair as he led you into the now empty building.

Tags: @ambroselunatic @robert-d-j-bernthal
Inexorable, Chapter 1

Rating: somewhere between T and not-explicit M
Word Count:
6,870 words
Prompt:
From ritasama​ - Single mother Mikasa meets Levi, a rich successful businessman.
A long author note/apology: So. Um. When I hit 100 followers a few months ago, I offered to write five fics for five people. Koi No Yokan was the first, and then I just… didn’t. For months I couldn’t wrap my head around this story, then I got bummed out about it, then I ignored it, then I realized I owed this and I had to do it. Honestly, I feel fucking terrible about it and I apologize, because I promised this and didn’t come through for a long, long time. I’m still writing, but I’ve got 3.25 out of 5 chapters written and I’ve been hammering away at it, so I’m hoping to be all done soon. I’m aiming to post a chapter every week or so, but I can’t promise I’ll stick to that schedule. That having been said, I hope you enjoy this!


There is a baby by the new secretary’s desk.

Levi Ackerman cannot remember the last time he saw a baby in person. His boss keeps showing him pictures of his ever-growing brood — an unruly-looking mob of blond children with wild bespectacled eyes — but he has thankfully managed to avoid having to encounter the brats in real life. The same cannot be said for the occupant of the playpen five feet in front of him, who is currently sucking her thumb and sleeping peacefully.

For now, Levi thinks. Soon she’ll be screaming and shitting and doing whatever else it is that babies do.

Keep reading

Gravity

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Gravity

Prompt: Can I please have a Bucky x Reader? The reader lives in a small town in Oregon and is totally the stereotype. And whatever you do with it is cool. Idk I live here and love it and yeah haha thank you so much!

Warnings: I am still suffering from Gravity Falls feels. Forgive me.

It was summer. And while you wished you were off on some tropical island, your parents had shipped you off to work in your great-uncle’s shop in a small town in Oregon. It was boring. Every day was the same as the last. You watched as helpless tourist after tourist stumbled into the tourist-trap-town. Well, until one day.

The day had started as normal. You were sitting behind the register, flipping through a magazine during one of the slowest hours of the day.

“Ugh,” You set down the magazine and pulled out your phone, forgetting for a moment that the shop didn’t seem to have any cell service. It was a real problem. And until you went back to New York, where your parents lived, you had patchy service and more bug bites than you could count.

“Something wrong, kiddo?” asked your great-uncle Dan. He was dressed up in his usual uniform, a suit and tie with his lucky 8-ball cane.

“The cell service is out again.” You complained. “How am I supposed to text my friends if I can’t even get a bar?”

“I’ll see what I can do about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, why don’t you restock the vending machine and fold some t-shirts and then maybe it’ll be fixed.”

“Sure, whatever,” you grumbled.

You got out from behind the counter and grabbed the box of chip bags stashed back there. You used a key from the ring hooked to your belt loop and unlocked the vending machine. It only took a few minutes to restock the machine. After that, you folded t-shirts and set them on the stacks of shirts in the middle of the store.

The little bell over the door rang, signaling that you had to resume your post behind the desk. You trudged over and sat on the stool as a man walked in.

He was tall, muscular, his chin covered in stubble. He was wearing a red flannel, worn out jeans, and brown work boots. You caught a glint of metal peeking out from beneath his sleeve. Tufts of brown hair stuck out of his baseball cap, and he looked to you with soulful blue eyes.

You watched as he walked around the shop, picking up a few things and making his way over to the counter to check out. You rang up his things: a t-shirt, a keychain, a new baseball cap, a flashlight, and some other things.

“What brings you to our sleepy little town?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He smiled a little, shyly.

“I, uh, I’m looking for a girl named (Y/N),” he said. Your heart raced. Shit. He knew.

“Why?” You asked, subtly hiding your nametag by zipping up your hoody. “Did she do something wrong?”

“No, uh, she just…she’s special. We need her.”

“How did you find me?” You asked, defensively. Your expression hardened. “And who are you with?”

“You’re (Y/N) (L/N),” he stated in disbelief, looking you over. “I expected someone…”

“Older? Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“My name is Bucky. Your great-uncle is the son of my friend.”

“Hey kid, is everything okay in here?” asked Grunkle Dan, walking back into the store. He eyed the stranger. “Well I’ll be darned. Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes. I’ve been waiting for you for a while, pal.”

“Grunkle Dan, what’s happening? Who is this?”

“(Y/N), this is Bucky. He’s going to take you somewhere safe. Did you pack your duffle bag like I told you to?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Take it and go. I’ll see you soon, kiddo.” he said quickly.

You grabbed your bag from behind the counter and reluctantly followed Bucky out the door. He opened the passenger door of a shiny black pick-up truck and helped you into the seat. He slammed the door shut before walking around the side of the truck and hopping into the driver’s seat. He started down the old dirt roads.

“I know it’s kind of a bit late for introductions, but…I’m James. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, a bit scared. You had no idea what was happening. Mere minutes earlier you had been a Gifted working in a gift shop. Now, you didn’t know what was happening.

“You don’t have to be scared, (Y/N). I won’t let anyone hurt you.” he paused. “But to answer your question, we’re going to upstate New York. I have a friend that’d like to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.”

Condoms

Converted: http://5hfanfiction.tumblr.com/post/124408022427/condoms

 Based off the prompt: “I took a bunch of free condoms from health services just because I could and they all fell out of my bag at once and now you’re staring at me weirdly AU”

 

Condoms. The Health Services room was loaded with free condoms. Well, not anymore considering that Clarke had well over fifty shoved in her faded red backpack. Why would Clarke steal several handfuls of condoms from Health Services? Because she could. So she did.

It was also likely a result of the consistent boredom that came with being a college sophomore. Clarke needed some excitement in her life, newfound excitement that didn’t come from online interviews featuring Fifth Harmony.

She completely forgot why she went to the student clinic in the first place. She sure as hell didn’t go with the intention of thieving dozens of male contraceptives.

Clarke hadn’t even realized that her legs had begun sprinting through the medical annex when she reached into her pocket to fetch her phone. Her bag was slung haphazardly over one shoulder, kept slightly ajar due to the rush she was in. She pressed the button on the side of her iPhone, turning it on, and opening a recent conversation left with a familiar freshman.

The literature major found herself grinning as she was trying to find the words to describe the situation she was in to her friend.

Clarke: hey Octavia

Clarke: I have condoms in my backpack

Clarke: we’re gonna do something with them

Clarke: that came out wrong

Clarke: they’re not for you

Clarke: or me

Clarke: they’re for the both of us

Clarke: but not in that way

Clarke: I’ll explain later

Clarke: text me when you get out of class

*

The sophomore stopped in front of her room, lifting her bag with an agile move, then reaching in to fish for her key. She was working so hard on her search that she didn’t notice a silver wrapper slip out. 

Clarke chuckles to herself at the thought of almost one hundred condoms and using them in every way possible except for their intended use. It’s totally stupid, but it’s totally something Clarke would do. Just like how her ideas of spending her weekend consisted of her staying up all night to listen to Fifth Harmony’s new album in her pink footsie pyjamas.

“Hey, I think you dropped something.” A low, raspy came from behind her.

The young writer, caught off guard by the stranger’s sudden introduction, dropped the keys and, in an attempt to pick them up, found the rest of her stash spilling out of her bag and onto the tiled floor.

 

Shit.

The stranger leans smoothly onto the wall beside her, nearly forcing Clarke’s heart to jump out of her chest. Where the hell did she even come from? Clarke could have sworn the hall was empty and dead silent a second ago. “Someone’s got an active sex life.” 

The girl’s eyes try to catch hers, but Clarke is too busy trying to shove the pile back in her bag to reciprocate the gesture.

“UH. NO,” Clarke grinned stupidly. “I MEAN,” she added, bent over the pile with none of her muscles motivated to move. She kept her head down, eyes fixated on the condoms.

“YEAH, THAT’S MINE. THEY’RE MINE. BUT IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE. I DON’T EVEN NEED THEM. I’M GAY. WELL, BI. BUT I’M LIKE, REALLY GAY. ALSO, I’M STILL A VIRGIN.” the sophomore girl responded, not really knowing what else to say in front of the slightly older, beautiful girl.

“Good to know?” The upperclassman laughed, giving her a flash of white.

Clarke took her time taking in the stranger’s appearance as she raised her head. She had a perplexed look - the kind where one eyebrow was arched and her nose was slightly scrunched up, pushing her cheeks closer to her eyes. Her eyes were bright and quirky. They’re a shade of green that Clarke knows she’s seen hundreds of times before, but in this very moment, Clarke cannot recall any of those times.

It was the kind of green that peaks past piles of gritty snow to remind you that spring was coming. The passionate green that the ocean turns during a storm. The colour of the tea Clarke drinks when it’s pouring out. Her eyes were the kind of green that late autumn leaves get jealous of.

In this very moment, Clarke’s favourite colour is green. 

“Shit,” Clarke mumbles, dropping her head lower when the girl’s cute smile becomes too charming for her to continue staring.

She can hear the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by her room door creaking open. Between the awkward silence, it sounds painfully loud.

Anya’s peeking behind the door. She’s looking out into hall, then down to Clarke, still crouching over for no good reason. The girl was so confused standing in her pyjamas. Well, they’re not really pyjamas. She’s wearing the shirt she fell asleep in last night, the one she forgot to change out of in the morning the day before. She’s not wearing any pants.

Anya’s got this dumb look on her face. A look that says, I’ve been asleep up until now. I don’t know what time it is or what the hell is going on, but I’m really not in the mood to ask. I’m so lost, why are you screaming about your sexuality in the hallway?

Clarke wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. She took this as a miracle, and sprung back to her feet while shouting out a quick goodbye to the girl still leaning against the hallway.

“Uh, I gotta go” the sophomore muttered, glancing behind her shoulder to get another good look at the girl, who was slightly waving a confused goodbye with her other arm crossed against her chest.

“Bye!”

Clarke’s laughing a little on the inside as she steps back into her shared room.

Bi.

*

There’s shit tons of half-eaten cups of noodles scattered across the room. The bathroom door is wide open and the inside is nothing less than a disaster.

Her drawers are just barely open. Anya’s been going through her stuff again.

It’s a mess, as usual. It’s their mess.

Although Clarke would have much more rather appreciated the company of Octavia or Raven as her roommate, she couldn’t have been more relieved to be back in the safety of her dorm with Anya.

“Okay, so you don’t have any pants on, but you’re not completely naked. I’m guessing your booty call already left?” Clarke proposed. 

“Yeah, we kinda had a fight last night.” As Clarke nodded attentively, Anya went on. “We were like really into it at first and I wanted to try something new. We were just going at it until I called her daddy. I don’t know what made her so mad. She said she was open to mixing it up.”

“Anya, who wouldn’t leave after hearing you say that?” Clarke cringed at the thought, manoeuvring around the trash on their floor before collapsing on her bed. 

“Aaaanyways, she’s cute,” her roommate winked, observing the older girl relaxing on her mattress, bag still wrapped securely in her arms with an idiotic grin glued on her lips. Clarke immediately threw her bag at the hoe who didn’t miss her friend’s new expression. 

“Shut up.”

Anya caught the bag tactfully with her face (she dropped it, actually). She took a look inside the pocket that was already opened and smiled smugly, realizing just what had Clarke so flustered.

“Looks like someone’s gonna have a fun night.” Anya said with a smirk.

Shut. Up.”

*

Clarke absently stared at her ceiling, messing with her earphones in frustration.

“Ugh!” Clarke complained, lying on her bed. “I swear I’m gonna break something.” She huffed and lifted her pillow from behind her head, bringing it up to smother her face. She shoved it further into her face, trying to muffle the music coming from the other side of the room.

Or maybe she was trying to suffocate herself to bear with the fact she just embarrassed herself in front of an insanely pretty upperclassman. Anya’s music wasn’t exactly helping.

“I fucked up.” She whined and grabbed the pillow once more to throw it against her wall roughly. “Who the hell would say that?” She said louder, staring back up at the ceiling.

“Hi, I’m Clarke. Yes, these condoms are mine. By the way, I’m bi. Also, I’m a virgin if you couldn’t already tell”, Anya mimicked.

“Shit. I didn’t even tell her my name.” Clarke shut her eyes tightly, pouting a little. “Did it really sound that bad? And what do you mean ‘If you couldn’t already tell’?

Anya shrugged.

“I didn’t explain why I had condoms in my backpack either,” she thought angrily and got up from her bed, starting to pace around the room.

She tried relaxing, she breathed in and out deeply, but she was still couldn’t focus with the song coming through her roommate’s speakers. It’s not that it was loud. It was fine. After the countless hours of nonstop blasting, Clarke got used to it. The only problem with the song was that it was so upbeat and happy.

How was Clarke supposed to wallow in self-pity when the playlist consisted of love songs that only mocking her?

“So are you going to keep feeling sorry for yourself or are we going to talk about this like grown-ups?” Anya questioned.

Clarke pulled out her phone and waited. She waited for Octavia to hurry up and text back. She waited for Anya to comfort her with a conversation that wasn’t entirely one-sided. She waited for her heart to stop beating so damn quickly. She waited for Keeping Up With the Kardashians to come on so she could distract herself with mediocre reality TV. She hated waiting, but she didn’t have a choice. She sat in silence until a knock on the door interrupted.

“God, it took you long enough.” The girl said, opening the door and resting against the edge of it. Clarke saw Octavia standing outside with her phone in hand. She probably got side tracking, snapchatting her life away.

“Geez, I’m sorry. I didn’t know condoms could be so important.” She replied. Octavia furrowed her brows and a tiny smile showed up on the edge of her lips. “So, how’d you manage to get so many anyways? Did you rob the 7/11 across campus or something?”

“It’s not even about the condoms anymore!” Clarke whined, looking at her with a devastated look.

“Then what is this about?”

Anya interrupted from behind the door, “It’s about how some girl in the hallway found out about the condoms.” A smile tugged at her lips “This cute girl.”

Clarke scrunched up her entire face, letting out a small whimper.

“O, I messed up” Clarke shook her head, “Do you know what I told her?” She asked, changing their afternoon plans entirely.

Octavia let herself in and took in the sight laid out in front of her. Anya was kneeling on the floor holding a cup in her left hand. Her other hand was holding up a condom filled with water and what seemed to be a fish swimming inside. “Do you think this is enough water for the fish or…”

“Anyways,” Octavia nodded and breathed out. “You messed up, and that doesn’t happen often. Tell me about it.”

She took a seat next to Anya as Clarke began to continue roaming back and forth around the room.

“Okay, so fast forward to the part after I’m running around campus. I get to my room and I was in the hallway trying to get the door open because my amazing roommate is too busy sleeping to hear me shouting at her from the other side to open the door. I was doing alright, getting my shit together, but then I hear someone behind me and so I turned around, dropped my keys, the condoms, and my dignity.”

“Tell Octavia about the part where you tell her that you’re a really gay virgin.” Anya got off her knees and positioned herself cross-legged with her hands tucked neatly in her lap. She resembled a second grader waiting patiently for story time to begin.

“Oh yeah. She was making presumptions about me having an active sex life and I was like, dude, no way. I’m not even that into guys. I haven’t even done sex yet. Had sex? Had sex.”

“What a mess.” Anya butts in as she tied up her makeshift fishbowl and sets it carefully on her nightstand.

“You’re a mess.”

Anya pauses for a moment. She’s thinking of a comeback. She settles with, “I’m your mess.”

Clarke remembered, “So, she was pretty tall, taller than you. She had dark hair, nice hair. She was tan, I think. Uh, she had green eyes. They were colour of unripen bananas.”  Clarke loved bananas.

“I hate to break it to you, but a lot of people are tan with dark hair. Just about anyone could fit that description.” Octavia explained, leaning back with her arms folded behind her head.

“Talk about tall, dark, and mysterious.”

“She wasn’t that dark. She was a bit tan, actually. A good tan. A great tan.”

“You know, It’s not the worst thing that could have happened.” Octavia offered. She was right.

Worst case scenario, she’s sees her again, and she has to live with being the girl who dropped a bunch of condoms in the hallway.

Worst case scenario, she never sees her again.

“Maybe it’ll be like one of those movies that Raven and I watched last night. The ones where the guy meets the girl and then fate brings them back together because it’s true love.”

“Anya, there’s like 15,000 people on campus. Fate can only do so much.” Clarke answered, turning her stare to the roommate again and caught her brown eyes. Anya replied by wiggling her eyebrows back.

“Then it wasn’t meant to be.” Anya smirked.

“I guess.” Clarke was tired of talking. She was feeling so many things towards that stranger she shouldn’t have been feeling towards a stranger at all.

“So, I have some good news,” their guest said looking at her phone on her hand, “You remember Murphy, right?” She chuckled. Clarke let out a resentful groan in response.

Clarke had a huge crush on Murphy during their freshman year. Murphy was just like every other guy on campus. He was old news. It was time to move on.

“I thought you had good news,” Clarke shook her head, “I could use some good news right about now.”

“It is good news. He invited us to his party. Kinda.” The blue eyed nodded and smirked, “He and Maia finally started dating, and since you have a couple of classes with Maia.” She waited for the other two to connect the dots.

They couldn’t.

“What I’m saying is, we’re invited, just indirectly. I mean Maia’s sort of your friend, right?”

“How was this supposed to help?” Clarke scoffed and watched their friend walk over to sit on her desk chair.

“I never said that it would help; I said that it was good news,” Octavia reminds her, “I mean, if you go you can at least meet other girls. Other girls who haven’t experienced how terrible you are at introductions and small talk.”

“What if I don’t want to meet other girls?” she thought out loud, now seeing the blue eyed girl spinning around in the chair, sticking her finger in her mouth to imitate throwing up.

“That is so petty. Clarke, you barely spent five minutes with her.”

“She’s cute, though. Like, really, really cute.”

“And that’s supposed to make a difference?”

“Well, I mean if I hadn’t made a complete idiot of myself I could have gotten her number.”

“Mhm, just keep telling yourself that,” she gulped and ran a hand through her hair. She wasn’t expecting Clarke to be so set on seeing this girl again. She was so determined. “And while you’re doing that Anya and I are going to the party to get some numbers.”

They sat in silence for a while. Octavia had her eyes on the TV set the roommates shared. Keeping Up With the Kardashians was finally on. Anya was trying to figure out what else she could fit into a condom.

Clarke was thinking. She found herself doing that a lot. Thinking. She thought about the girl, what her name could be. She thought about how nice it would have been if things had turned out differently. She thought about whether or not she already did her poli-sci homework. She thought about how loudly Anya was breathing and scooted away on the carpet.  

“Okay,” Clarke caved in.

“‘Okay’ what?” Octavia said, tipping the chair forward.

“Okay, I’m going to the party. Okay, I’m going to stop sulking. Okay, let’s go get drunk.”

Octavia grinned smugly, “That’s the spirit.” She stood up and went over to put her arm around over her friend’s shoulder, almost knocking both of them down in the process.

“So, what the hell are we gonna do with all these condoms?”

*

When they walked into the frat house, it looked exactly like what you’d expect from a frat party. The floors are decorated with red solo cups, cheap beer and kegs placed on most of the furniture.

You’ve got your classic lightweights spewing chunks out on the front porch, the upperclassmen urging the freshmen to chug for their lives. Music was blasting through the walls, whoever the DJ was mixed some insane remixes of the Top 40. Anya greatly appreciated that.

The first floor ceiling was trembling, moaning and incoherent screams coming from upstairs. Everyone by the pool is either skinny dipping or snapchatting those who were. Everyone was wasting time by getting wasted.

And it definitely wouldn’t be a frat party without a couple of the Gammas streaking through the front lawn adorning nothing but their letterman jackets. (What’s up with everyone being naked?)

There are plenty of cute girls at the party, but Clarke’s got her mind on someone else.

They’re greeted by Raven in the loft, which is currently being occupied for the sake of body shots.

“My favourite undergrads!” she greets. “You guys made it.”

“We had to choose between this and flushing Anya’s dead fish. It was a tough choice.” Octavia quipped.

“Alright, everyone. Drinks.” Raven said as she grabbed some bottles out of a cooler.

It’s loud. The whole house was shaking, every warm body pressed up against another on the makeshift dance floor.

Everyone’s got a drink in their hand now, including Clarke. Clarke’s drink is water.

Anya ends up acquiring a bottle of vodka, God knows how she got it. After downing a fourth of the drink, she’s met with slurred words and clumsy movements (clumsier than usual).

They’re all spread on the loft. Raven and Clarke sitting comfortably on the couch, the one that wasn’t stained with puke. Octavia’s situated on the coffee table, not as comfortable, while a drunk Anya rambles unintelligible nothings next to her.

“Okay. So, when do I get to hear about this mystery girl O was telling me about?”

It was like the entire topic was unavoidable. Wasn’t the whole point of coming to this party to forget about it?

Clarke looks over to Octavia, who’s waiting on her recollection of the earlier events. “When did you tell Raven?”

“Like, halfway to the party.” She explains, taking another sip from her cup.

“I mean, it’s not that big of a deal. She was just-”

“Out of your league,” Anya finished for her.

Ouch. Drunk Anya isn’t as fun as Clarke remembers. And although she knows she’s just kidding, the remark does nothing less than sting.

They’re soon joined by a few familiar faces, all of which include Bellamy and Lincoln, who finally make an appearance. By now the living room area is flooded by juniors who have taken it upon themselves to claim it as their own. The sophomores don’t mind sharing the space, even deciding to join in on the upperclassmen’s drinking games, not that they had much of a choice.

Clarke and Octavia are set up on one side of the coffee table, which has now been laid out for a game of beer pong. They’re positioned across Monty and Jasper, who look like they’re in it for the long haul.

*

The loft is filled with heavy cheers for either duo, Bellamy and Lincoln carrying the encouragement for their friends. Raven’s too preoccupied flirting with Ontari to join them.

The cheers of the crowd grow more intense as both sides are counting on their bets to win.

Surprisingly, Clarke was good at beer pong.

They had one more cup to go before they officially won the game. Monty and Jasper were four cups behind. When it’s Jasper’s turn he misses, blaming the alcohol in his system.

Behind Monty, she can make out a girl stumbling down the stairs, appearing soberer than the people around her. She easily recognizes the brown hair she was so fixated on in the halls. Part of her wants to go after her, find out just how differently things could play out. She represses the urge that’s telling to follow her into the next room.

Her focus is interrupted by Octavia’s hand on her shoulder. “I see you, Clarke. You should go talk to her, get your mind off of mystery girl for a bit.” She gave her friend a playful shove. “After we win though,” she adds, handing her the ping pong ball.

The least she could do for herself was save her effort and put it towards something she actually had a chance of winning over. She returns to the game, attempting to convince herself she’s made the right choice.

She opts for bouncing the ball, seeing as how it’s worked all night.

“Nice.” Clarke pumps her fist in excitement as the ball circles the rim of the cup before falling in.

She can’t help but feel proud when she gets to watch Monty gulp down the last cup with a look of defeat.

Her moment of victory is cut short. “Oh shit,” Clarke remembered, “Anya.”

“What about her?” 

The blonde panicked, “Where is she?”

“Chill out, I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably eating pizza on the roof or something.  Besides, she can handle herself,” Octavia said simply.

“Can she really? Remember what happened last time? She almost jumped into the pool from the second story.”

“Oh yeah, huh. It took us twenty minutes to convince her that the pool wasn’t a huge jelly shot,” Octavia said, a smile coming to her face from the memory.

“Hold on, let me call her first. I’m not in the mood to play hide and seek with a drunk Anya.” She pressed a hand to her temple. She let the ring prolong before hanging up the call in defeat, grasping her phone firmly. “She’s not answering.”

“Of course she isn’t. C’mon, let’s go find her before she lights a car on fire.”

“Raven!” They looked back to see that their friend was still sitting on a sofa with Ontari, no longer talking. Their mouths were busy doing something else.

“Yikes, I’ll get Raven. You go ahead. Call me if you find her,” she said and left Clarke with a faint wave.

“If I were Maya, where the hell would I go?” Clarke asked no one in particular. She’s not even sure Anya would know the answer to that question.

Clarke left the loft, navigating past the bulky masses until she finds herself between the den and the kitchen.

But you’re losing your words

We’re speaking in bodies

Avoiding me and talking ‘bout you

But you’re losing your turn

I guess I’ll never learn

‘Cause I stay another hour or two

Familiar lyrics come in acquaintance with her ears. They’re pulling at her heartstrings and coercing her to stop.

 

For crying out loud, settle down

You know I can’t be found with you

We get back to my house

Your hands, my mouth

Now I just stop myself around you

She’s sitting on the futon, guitar weary and perched between her slender arms and thighs, when Clarke sees her. When her eyes settle on her, they refuse to leave.

She’s wearing the same expression from this morning, composed and confident. Her lips tugged into a smile as she let out every word with accentuated passion, face flushed with fervour.

When she strums the wrong note, she just laughs it off before going back to where she was. The sound that leaves her mouth sounds better than the chorus ever could have.

Her dark hair all flipped to the side, the crinkles by the corners of her eyes and all that didn’t pass unnoticed by Clarke’s gaze.

It all looks so beautiful.

She’s singing with enough emotion to make Clarke’s current situation slip past her mind for a few beats.

She’s so tempted to sing along.

 

What a familiar face

Do you get what I mean now

I’m so fixated on the girl with the soft sound

And hair all over the place

She’s thinking again. For a minute, she thinks about how nice that song sounds despite the disruptive ambiance. She thinks about how a shiver runs down her spine whenever a high note peaks out and how it brings a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach. She thinks about how nice that song would sound as a duet.

Clarke could feel the subtle thrumming of the strings, followed by the buzzing floorboards.

It feels the same way rain feels after a storm.  Like a drizzle, the new atmosphere hits ever so slowly and lightly. It’s gentle.

She’s a downpour. Clarke couldn’t help herself from standing silent, watching. She was mesmerising.

Clarke finds herself staring too long, and soon she’s met with a pair of eyes staring back at her. She’s reminded just how lovely the colour green can be.

 

Fuck.

She knows she’s been caught red handed, again, but she can’t bring herself to look away this time. A heavy blush creeps up from her neck to her cheeks. Suddenly, the room feels hot and stuffy.

She manages to tear away her gaze, but her eyes won’t stop wandering over to the girl’s playful expression. Her hands are clammy when she picks up the phone ringing in her pocket.

Raven’s out of breath over the receiver. “Hey, any sign of Anya yet? She’s not upstairs.”

It’s difficult to compose a response. “H-hold on, she just snapchatted me.”

“Oh, she sent me something too.” There’s a silence over the call. “It’s just some picture of a girl. Oh my god, I think she forgot to turn off her flash too.”

Maybe it’s luck when she realizes that the girl Anya attempted to take a picture of is the same girl she made eye contact with a few seconds ago, the same girl she hasn’t been to get off her mind since this the incident. Clarke has never been a firm believer when it came to luck.

The sophomore snaps her head back up to look for Anya. She’s nowhere near the girl with the guitar.

She reminds herself that’s a good thing.

She doesn’t notice Anya until she can hear her rambling a few feet away.  “What do you mean I can’t wear my leather pants in bed?” She was fighting with another fuck buddy over the phone. “You, you said you thought it was hot!” Her legs dared to give up and her words barely coming out in complete sentences.

“I found her. Meet me by the restroom.”

*

Clarke’s lost count of exactly how many times she’s ended up babysitting Anya at a party.

Raven’s lost count of exactly how many times she’s ended up holding Anya’s hair back as she’s throwing up in stranger’s toilets.

Octavia breaks between the sounds of distasteful heaving. “We need to get Anya over to the kitchen. She needs some water.” Anya groans in response, the smell of alcohol seeping out of her mouth.  “And a breath mint.”

She leads them into the other room, the other girls trailing behind. Octavia’s instantly attracted to the fridge, coming back out with four bottles of water.

Everyone’s got a drink in their hands again. Everyone’s drink is water this time.

Anya decides it’s better as a mouthwash. Raven is thoroughly disgusted.

Octavia and Clarke rest against the counter. Clarke’s suddenly not in the mood to drink. Instead, she watches her friend take several gulps of water. “You’ve been staring with her from across the room since we got here.” She’s glancing over the girl who has yet to leave the couch.

“I have?” Clarke’s met with an unamused pout. “I have. How observant of you.”

“She’s hot, I say you should go for it.”

Clarke scoffed, “I can’t just ‘go for it’. That’s her.”

“Oh, yeah. Isn’t she the girl from the picture?”

“Even better, she’s the one from this morning,” she corrected.

“Oh my god. You’re fucking kidding me.” Raven faced Clarke, with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“You’re talking about that girl over there right?  The one wearing the nose piercing and the ripped skinny jeans? The same one wearing the flannel that she clearly thrifted? The one who’s got an acoustic six string on her lap, probably playing ‘Wonderwall’?”

“And what’s wrong with that? I think she looks nice.”

“No, it’s not her. It’s you. I guess it’s her too, but you did this to yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you’re turning your life into some coming-of-age indie film. You’re the budding literature major who always has trouble with expressing their feelings because they can’t accept the fact that they’re into ‘The Girl’.”

Raven paused and looked towards the girl. She was clearly staring right at her, but her eyes seemed to be lost in thought. She continues, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“And that girl, that girl on the couch that you’ve been staring at for the past fifteen minutes, is the whole dynamic for your plotline. She’s the one who you get butterflies for the first time you meet her. She’s the girl with the mysterious past that only makes you want to figure her out even more. And if I’m right, which, let’s be honest, I usually am, then she’s the one who breaks your naïve, little heart. She’s “The Girl.”

“I think you need to lay off the romantic comedies.”

“I think you’re a cliché.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I think Anya’s hitting on your little hipster.”

While Raven was psychoanalyzing Clarke’s love life, the guitarist had made her way into the kitchen with her friend.

“Hey, I was just wondering, does your left eye hurt? Because you’ve been looking right all day.” Anya arches an eyebrow, stepping closer to the upperclassman and way past her comfort zone.

“Um, thanks,” she said before turning back to her friend, discomfort written over her features.

Anya remains unfazed by the minor rejection. “By the way, I’m not drunk,” She leaned on the island, “I’m just intoxicated by you.”

They’re trying to hold in their amusement while their friend is getting turned down, but it’s evident they’re enjoying the little show the two are putting on.

“Really? You seem pretty drunk to me.” Her response come out flat, clearly unimpressed.

She persisted, “Do you have the time?” The girl doesn’t make much of an effort to check. She’s reluctant before dragging out her phone.

“No, I mean, the time to write down my number?

Smooth. Anya makes a mental note to pat herself on the back later for that one.

“Actually, I think it’s time for me to leave. It was nice talking to you.” Without another word, the older girl is already removing herself from the conversation.

“Wait, I wa-”

Raven takes it upon herself to save Anya, stepping up to intervene. “Anya! There you are. I think it’s time to sober up.” She wrapped an arm around Anya, ushering her out.

“Oh, my god. I swear she sabotaged herself.”

“I know, even you could do better.”

And she was right, Clarke could do better.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the blue eyed takes offense to the comment.

“It means,” She takes another drink, “that even though you can’t flirt to save your life either, you’d at least be able to get her name before she shuts you down.”

Clarke ponders the possibility of it actually happening, “Yeah, I bet I could.”

“Well then, I’ll leave you at it. Good luck, Casanova.” She’s lifting her elbows off the counter.

“Wait, O, I wasn’t serious.” Clarke’s repositioning herself to look at her friend, who in turn is gawking at the senior. Or maybe she was a junior? She strikes Clarke as a junior.

She can’t blame Octavia when she decides not to make eye contact back.

Octavia’s inattentive gaze died, “I know, but I was.” She throws a ‘see ya later’ over her shoulder and exits the room without leaving Clarke any time to reply.

With that, Clarke’s left standing alone in the kitchen. Except, she’s not alone. Not really. The girl’s still there, but her friend has retreated back to the couch.

There’s a buzz in her pocket, and her hand quick to lunge to her phone.

O: wow she’s seems like a pretty face w/ a personality

O: have fun ;)

O: be urself

O: don’t make that stupid joke 

O: you know which one I’m talking about

A few seconds later her phone vibrates for what she hopes is the last time.

O: I’m talking about all of them

It’s not much of a pep talk, but it’s enough encouragement for Clarke to at least consider initiating some kind of conversation.

“When I’m not so into parties I usually find myself in the kitchen too.” Clarke could hear her from the other side of the kitchen island. She doesn’t remember walking closer. “Do you come here often?”

And oh- she’s talking to her.

“Where’d you get that pick up line? The nineties?” The response comes out as condescending. She can’t help it, it’s a reflex.

She hears the girl go silent. Clarke instantly regrets her quip. “I’m just saying, that was a really lame pick up line. I’ll let it slide though because I think you’re cute.”

A bright red blush meets the girl’s face before she purses her lips. “You’re right, though. I can do better, but since I can’t think of anything impressive at the moment, what’s up?”

“Gas prices.” It was still a weak response, but the way her breath is hitching in her throat isn’t helping her situation.

Evidently, talking face to face with a good-looking stranger makes it sort of difficult to speak. “Wait that sounded worse out loud, let me try again.”

“Alright then,” She lets out a chuckle, “What’s up?”

“My self-esteem.”

She lets out another chuckle, this one’s much more genuine.

“What makes you think it was a pickup line anyways? Maybe I was just trying to have a nice conversation. Maybe I’m taken.” The older girl quirks an eyebrow, a grin playing at the edges of her mouth.

Clarke’s never even considered that. Now that she thinks about it, it sucks knowing that it might be true.

“But let’s say that I am single. Would it make any difference?”

“Well, then I might just try to flirt with you. But I won’t.” Clarke steps backwards, coaxing the other girl to come closer, their eyes now locked intensely.

“You won’t?” She’s pouting, clearing out a soft sigh.

“Nope, because clearly you’re too good for me.” Clarke shrugs.

“That’s too bad. For a second there I thought you kinda had a thing for me.” She’s pushing for an honest response.

“Sorry, cute musicians that make my heart race aren’t really my type.” Clarke taunted. “I saw your little performance, by the way. Let me guess, you’re an aspiring musician trying to make it big in Hollywood?”

“Close. Aspiring lit major trying to pay off her student loans in Los Angeles. Being a famous musician is just my day job.” She starts walking over to Clarke’s side of the island. “And when I’m not on tour or sitting through one of Professor Pike’s lectures, I’m interning at Polis Records.”

“Wow, that definitely beats being employee of the month at Olive Garden.”

“Would it help if I said I’m into free breadsticks?”

“No, but it would help if you said you were into me,” she smirks. She’s trying to find something else to keep her eyes occupied, or at least away from the other girl’s face.

Clarke’s eyes don’t maintain their position, instead scanning the room to end up resting on the grey area marble countertop. Because she’s definitely not looking at her lips. She’s definitely not thinking about how soft they probably are. And she definitely doesn’t want to know how they’d feel against her own.

She pretends that she doesn’t want to kiss them.

“Maybe I am.” She’s moving again, stepping closer to the younger girl so that there’s barely over a foot between them.

“So, uh, can we just forget about what happened this morning in the hall?” Clarke asked quietly. She’s trying to change the subject. It proves to be a challenging.

“Forget it? Why would I, though? I’ve gotta say it was probably the highlight of my day.”

“Really? The highlight of my day was getting to talk to a cute stranger.”

“Wow, funny and you’ve got game? Colour me impressed.” She bit her lip staring into Clarke’s eyes. “I think that out of the three people who have hit on me tonight, you’re the only one who’s been worth talking to.”

Clarke fixed her attention to the floor instead, avoiding emerald eyes (and pink lips) at all costs.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you just looked at my lips.” She’s tilting her head lower, she’s looking for Clarke’s eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you want to kiss me.”

“No, that would be considered bad form,” She flashed her eyes back up to meet the girl’s. “I don’t even know your name.”

“My friends call me Lexa, but you can call me anytime,” she winked playfully, her face is desperately close. Clarke offered a smile back at her, shaking her head.

“Anytime. That’s a nice name. I’m Clarke.”

Clarke can feel the sudden heat resting on her cheeks. The close proximity sends a shiver down her spine. Her heart is pounding uncomfortably in her chest. She can feel her warm breath brush against her collarbone. Her breath smells good. It doesn’t smell anything like beer, it’s fruity. It’s nice. It’s very Lexa.

She can tell she looks stupid by the way Lexa’s looking back at her. Her smile’s crooked and her eyes seem darker, they’re glossy. She’s got an entertained expression settling over her features.

Clarke looks like a dork. Lexa likes it.

“So, Clarke, are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Galavant Appreciation Week: Day 4: Favorite Relationship/Dynamic

Again, I’m a day late with this one and I seem to be stuck playing catch up, but better late than never right?  There are a lot of gifs and none of them are mine, I’m just using them to illustrate my point and because Gal and Izzy are super lovely to look at.

Galavant and Isabella: 

I’m sure it’ll come as a surprise to absolutely no one that my favourite dynamic/relationship on the show is the relationship between Galavant and Isabella. Isabella is “small and cute and ethnically hard to pin down” and Galavant has  "a face most chicks have a thing about"…basically these are two uber attractive people. 

Not only are these two undeniably gorgeous (I mean, duh and as Jean Hamm would say “Well, well, well. Hello there.”), but they also subscribe to one of my fave relationship tropes which is the love/hate relationship.


When Isabella and Galavant first meet each other, they can barely stand each other. Isabella finds Gal in a perpetual state of drunkenness in his hovel and she’d probably agree with her parents at this point in time if they called him a “waste of space”. She tells him of her woes and he says, “That’s terrible, just terrible. But you have a nice way about you I’m sure you’ll land on your feet. Nice meeting you, doors on the wall.” Isabella then begs him to save her people but Gal completely tunes her out and says:

 Isabella is utterly exasperated with him and Galavant finds her annoying and bossy and is this the beginning a beautiful relationship? I think so! 

Galavant eventually agrees to help Isabella reclaim her kingdom once he learns that King Richard is the one who invaded it. It is at this point that the audience discovers that Isabella is leading Galavant into a trap, but we still can’t help but love this precious cupcake because she is clearly wrestling with guilt about it…and this is before she even gets to know our hero. The angst is built into this relationship from the get go and it is absolutely delicious. 

Over the course of season one, Galavant and Isabella grow from being strangers to reluctant teammates to friends to a couple that is meant for each other. Isabella trains Galavant and teaches him how to be a knight again.

 She becomes our hero’s hero and “brings him back to himself”.

 Galavant becomes more considerate and caring around her. She’s always on his mind 

and he defends her when she isn’t there to defend herself (“Call her a mouth breather one more time!”). Because of his feelings for Isabella, Galavant learns that it’s not always about him, he’s not just “the hero that gets the raisins”…sometimes other people get the raisins too…like when Galavant stashes some trail mix aside and gives them to Isabella “raisins intact”. 

The relationship development between these two is so well done that you can go back and rewatch it and track it episode by episode. Galavant goes from “seeing [Isabella’s] mouth start moving and…needing a drink” in Joust Friends (1x02) to telling her that he doesn’t always listen when she speaks but he’s going to work on that in Comedy Gold (1x04) 

to telling Isabella that speaking to her is one of his favorite things to do in My Cousin Izzy (1x07). 

Likewise, Isabella learns to see Galavant in a completely different light. In the pilot she thinks of him as a bumbling buffoon and she tells him, “You’re no hero”, and in Joust Friends, she constantly questions him and his abilities

 until she gradually starts to trust him and becomes his biggest fan in It’s All in the Executions (1x08) when she tells him, 

Similarly, Galavant’s heroism is directly connected to his relationship with Isabella and as their relationship blooms so does Galavant’s heroism. He becomes the hero we always knew he was.


Galavant realizes that they only kind of hero he wants to be is her hero 

and he goes from saying “Nice meeting you, doors on the wall” and giving zero shits about her and people in general (mostly because Maddie seriously did a number on him) to putting her safety and the lives of his friends above everything else. Galavant promises Isabella that he’s going to save all of them in Dungeons and Dragon Lady (1x06),

then in My Cousin Izzy, Galavant says “I’m going to save all of them, especially her” and he races across the banquet hall to save Izzy from eating shellfish. 

Lastly, in “It’s all in the Executions”, Galavant flat out refuses to leave Isabella behind until Gareth promises to to take care of her.


We’ve come quite a long way since, “You have a nice way about you, I’m sure you’ll land on your feet”. 


Of course I’d be remiss if I failed to mention their heavenly duets and how well their voices blend together and how their love songs are so honest and refresh and true to them. 

And then there’s how attractive they are and how attractive they find each other and Isabella going “damn” when she sees Gal pour water on himself because she’s found “the abs the poets praise" 

and Gal saying: 

Oh and there’s also the way Gal calls Isabella’s mom, "Mummy!” and says:

 which is simultaneously hilarious and squeeworthy because this means that he envisions a future with Isabella even in his extremely drunken state.  I mean, don’t they just look perfect together here:

Also, I can’t forget the eyesex and how they had eyesex babies in that monastery and how Isabella was hoping beyond hope that Galavant would live and he could forgive her for betraying his trust and how she had to be the one to remind him about Madalena and how he was like, “Oh yeah right her. Sorry I forget about her because of the stunning, amazing woman in front of me” and basically it all adds up to complete perfection.

“[Galabella’s] the complete package and I, for one, am finally throwing my arms in the air and giving into it.”

Oh who am I kidding? I’m Galabella trash. They had me at “I’m sorry, what is that smell?” and I’ve grown to love them more with every episode and I AM BEYOND ECSTATIC THAT MY BABIES ARE COMING BACK AND WE’RE GOING TO GET MORE FOREVER KISSES 

AND MORE OF GAL TELLING IZZY THAT SHE’S WONDERFUL AND MORE OF IZZY TELLING GAL THAT SHE BELIEVES IN HIM. 

Can I have season 2 now please?

Michael Soulmate AU

Yes, hello there! I’m a bit rusty at this writing thing, but I’ve decided to post this. It’s a soulmate AU, where you have no physical feeling until you touch your partner. If you can make it to the end of this I’ll give you a sticker. 

Contains blood/gore, violence, assault, explicit language, and hetero smut 

You can read my Calum Soulmate AU here

“Alright. First things first, we have to find Ashton.”

“Um, no. I needed a drink in my hand 10 minutes ago; lover boy can survive a few seconds without you, Lu.” And with that you grab the hand of your friend to drag him towards the other side of the club.

The bright strobe lights periodically blind you, making your trip through the dense bodies on the dance floor that much more difficult. Luke is plastered to your back, his long legs getting tangled up in your own, causing you to stumble every few steps. Luckily, you both make it to the bar in one piece.

The blonde slumps against the black countertop, still facing toward the mass of people, searching for the mop of curly hair that belongs to his boyfriend. “Why is this place so busy?” He groans out.

You look at him in amusement. “It’s a friday night, idiot, of course it’s packed.” But he’s not listening to you.

Shaking your head, you lean forward, hoping to catch eyes with the bartender. As usual, Luke has chosen the absolute worst spot to stand when it comes to getting a drink in a timely manner. A pair of dark eyes connect with yours, so you lean back, hoping they caught the message.

The song blasting through the club turns to one you recognize just as the bartender stops in front of you. His smile is surprisingly soft for someone that holds such a dark outer appearance.

Holding up four fingers, you shout out your order before he even has a chance to ask, “Four shots of Patron please!”

Luke groans again, finally turning to face you. “You know what tequila does to me.”

“Yeah, Hemmings can’t handle shots very well.”

Keep reading

9

Q&A Spotlight: Adam J. Kurtz

We have been inspired by the go-gettingness and productivity of this endlessly witty and insightful fellow known as Adam J. Kurtz whose book journals help keep us on track, motivated, and well . . constantly smiling!   In 2016, he was named one of PRINT Magazine’s “15 Under 30” New Visual Artists, and his first publication –1 Page at a Time: A Daily Creative Companion– has been translated into fifteen languages!  

We recently caught up with Adam to learn about how he came up with some of his massively popular book journals including his latest one– Pick Me Up – and about his recent in-store events at Vans retail shops in Boston, New York, and Wilmington.  Not only will you be inspired by his publications, but also by his personality, charm, and experiences in this Q&A. 

Photo credit: Ty Crawford | Images courtesy of the artist

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Holy moly I love your art work like you inspire me so much...but at the same time...I get kinda sad because no mater how long I practice and try I can't be at your level 😧

sweet anon, please don’t stress! (;´Д`) 

if you have the time, i’ll let you in on a little secret… (aka digging up gunnys’ art graveyard/abandoned WIPS, prepare yourself!) 

Keep reading