"I wish I could start planning my presidential campaign now. But who knows what the state of the union will be in two and a half decades."
"Or you could have a drink with me and not be a loser."
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@walkertyrell
"I wish I could start planning my presidential campaign now. But who knows what the state of the union will be in two and a half decades."
"Or you could have a drink with me and not be a loser."

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papers suck and stuff
it wasn’t as though writing a paper was impossible, it was just that researching information required her to sit still. Struggling with school felt normal to her, it was hard to comprehend how someone could learn in a classroom setting. Maybe if she was allowed to stand, or maybe if the subject matter related to her own life. How to make everyone see Lannisters are shady bitches 101, perhaps? It would be more useful than the archaic lecture-notes-test format she’d been forced to deal with for so many years now. Still, she couldn’t fail English.
Alana sat at a desk in the library at Trinity, books precariously lain across the wooden surface. The top of her pen tapped against the table to a beat as she slumped lower and lower in her seat. Papers were impossible.
Sliding out of the men's bathroom, Walker tried to look normal. And really, it wasn't that hard for him since he was always trying to look normal. That's what happened when you kept the company of many ladies and as well as a sack of fun drugs in your pocket. But, hey. That's the Tyrell life. His business is what kept the Arryn family from burning their only daughter; Walker assumes that's a good deed.
He'd been meeting this little, skinny twig of a guy, particularly paranoid, who insisted meeting him in the men's bathroom. Walker almost turned it down-- nothing sounded right when two grown men were meeting in the bathroom. He wasn't one to turn down business, however, so he made the trip and it all went okay. Well, the guy was being followed, but Walker didn't alert him to that because it was obviously not his problem. Walker was gleeful, heading out of the library, when he noticed a dark haired little thing, named Alana Karstark. A grin appeared on his face as he walked over and slid into the chair next to her.
"Karstark," he began, leaning back in his chair, "it's been a minute or two since we've last spoken."
"You’re never completely sober," she joked, finishing her glass. Could she really blame him? Maybe people like Walker knew exactly what they were doing. Why would alcohol be so easily available to minors if it didn’t make events such as these more bearable? She’d never been a drunk, really, but certain affairs were better discussed after she’d had a few glasses of wine. Sometimes people forgot she was still a teenager- hell, she even forgot. She doubted Walker forgot his own youth, and she longed for that. Not enough to partake as he did, but enough to feel a melancholy twinge in her gut.
"And where has this harem of women gone to?" She asked, raising a eyebrow.
Natalie Stark was right about that. The only time he may have been sober was when Walker first wakes up; and even that's doubtful, considering he can still taste rum in his mouth when he first sees daylight. Being sober is boring. He wonders how Natalie does it so often. "You're right about that. Smart girl. Not that it's a surprise-- everyone knows Natalie Stark is the smartest to ever smart." That much, he was sure he was right about. Sure, all the Stark's seemed to be annoyingly brilliant, but he's still giving all the credit to Natalie.
Sighing, Walker looked around, behind his shoulders, and then at the bottom of his glass as he finished the alcohol in it. He tried to look disappointed. "I don't know... do you think you can help me find them?"
Walker’s kisses were electric; his body was magnetic. Every nerve in Hayley’s body tingled at his touch, aching for more. She’d gone too long without kissing him, it seems she had forgotten how good he was.
No feelings, no strings attached; that was what they’d agreed, that’s all this was, a good fuck. Hayley let her tongue slip inside Walker’s mouth; he tasted of scotch and cigerettes. She wound her fingers in his hair, tugging ever so slightly as she pulled away. Hayley pressed another kiss to his lips before resting her forehead on his. She took a deep breath and smiled at him. “I’ve missed that.”
A grin appeared on Walker's face, all teeth. Hayley made him happy. All females did, but currently, it was Hayley that made him smile. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, leaning in to gently place a kiss on her lips, before leaning back again.
"Missed you too, Martell," he quipped back, moving to dig in his pockets, coming up with cash and pennies before finding what he wanted: an almost broken cigar. He made a small sound of victory, glad it wasn't actually broken, before pulling the wrapper off of it and sticking it in his mouth. It was another of his father's. For someone who didn't care about his father, he stole an awful lot of his possessions, varying far more than scotch and cigars, though surely those were the most popular. You'd think Markus Tyrell would notice his liquor and nicotine disappearing. Probably did and didn't care enough about Walker to say anything. Probably. "Where you been hiding that pretty face of yours, anyways?"
In truth, Hayley doubted she would ever forget Walker, not the feel of his hands or the touch of his lips, but she couldn’t well have him know that. That’s not what they were, there was no deep confessions nor longing gazes. It was cheap thrills and it was fun. And Hayley did have fun; it wasn’t just his kisses or touches that she enjoyed, but she had to admit, they did make better.
Hayley nodded at his suggestion and took a step towards him, closing the space between them. “I think you should.”
His reaction was natural. Walker wasn't good at many things-- running a company being one-- but everything else being the opposite of responsible; well, yeah, he was good at those. Whether kissing Hayley Martell was responsible or not, he didn't know. He hadn't gotten any threatening looks from anyone yet, which he could not say for Natalie Stark's family.
His hand quickly went under her chin as he brought her closer, skimming her lips with his tongue. It wasn't caring, it wasn't loving, but it should successfully remind Hayley how good he is with his mouth-- or was it his hands?

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Hayley couldn’t help but smile. Walker was… well Walker; he wasn’t serious, they weren’t serious, but she couldn’t help it; he made her smile. “Maybe I’ve forgotten.”
He had wondered where his Martell had run off to; his Lannister was sucking face with a Stark, his Stark was... well, he'd seen her at New Year's, and to be honest, his Martell was a sight to behold.
(not that any of these lovely ladies were actually his; Walker didn't own women, knowing none of them could actually be owned, but, nonetheless, in his mind, they were his until they got tired of his shit and threw him off-- besides Lilith. He'd try his hardest to never leave her life, if only because he bothered her)
"I could remind you."
"Impressive," Hayley cocked her head and smiled. "Looks like someone is good with their hands."
"Like you wouldn't already know that," Walker replied instantly, throwing the cards behind them, his attention shifted to something else.
"I learned a new trick."
Dave Franco at the “Neighbors" Press Conference (5/3/14)
Growing Strong

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"Don’t you usually come to these things already shamefully drunk?" She asked as he took a seat, her smile making it clear that she was only being playful. "With one woman on each arm?"
"Do you think I'm drunk? Or that I'm completely sober?" It was really inbetween where Walker's sobriety level was at. He could use a drink, sure, but he didn't want to get totally fucked up. He was feeling a bit nostalgic; and if he was honest, which he rarely is, he was hoping to see his father tonight. "Hey, you should've seen my entrance. I had two women on each arm."
"So true," Natalie took a sip of her drink before pointing her glass towards the chair nearest to her. "Would you like to sit, Walker? Or are you going to stand over me all evening?"
Standing over her or beside her? In Walker's mind, those were two very different things, and honestly, he felt that anything he thought or said would get him in trouble, so being smart, he took a seat. "Thanks for offering."
"Aren’t we all."
"And how exactly are you going to do that?"
"Pretty girls like to try and heal me, though, so it's okay."
"My business. Not yours."
"How does talking about your family turn into making out? Forget talking to me, Walker, you need to talk to a professional."
"But is it really worth dying without booze at your funeral? Priorities, Tyrell."
"I tried that, when I was like, thirteen. Didn't work. I'm damaged goods."
"I'm not going to die. I'm going to become immortal until you figure out what my favorite booze is."
"I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate that. Future Mrs. Stark, remember?"
"Then you’d better reconsider buying yourself a one way ticket to hell at midnight with my mother."
"You're the one who wanted to spend the night with me talking about my family. God, Lilith, get ahold of yourself."
"No way."

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"Only if I can paint your nails and braid your hair, too."
"I don’t really care enough to waste my time with a guessing game, so I suppose I’ll never know and you’ll never have it at your funeral."
"Nah. We'll make out to fill the time."
"Guess I can't die, then, without alcohol at my funeral, there's no point to dying."
"Or perhaps I’ll end up with a prince?" Natalie smiled, looking up at Walker. Something about Walker being around made her feel dirty. Dirty in a good way. She crossed her legs, her dress moving to reveal more skin
Her actions didn't go unnoticed. Walker let his eyes follow her fingers, making to moves to conceal his stare. He wouldn't around her. She obviously didn't want him to either. "Maybe, if you're lucky. Not much are left around here."