also it was supposed to be a guy today

Chicken Nugget

pairing: Lin x reader

warnings: none!! cursing i think? this is fluffffffy

summary: The story of you and Lin, told through Twitter. 

requests: “hey, I just wanted to say that your writing is so cute! ^.^ anyway, I wanted to request a Lin x Reader where maybe reader and Lin get into a Twitter battle and it’s just really cute and stuff! thanks! <3″

@not-mystery-anymore-anon: happy late birthday! This took me so long wow I have like 4 more unfinished fics so I’m gonna go work on that. I don’t know how to feel about this, enjoy! 

words: 1524

January 26 / 11:56


Good morning!
Sometimes people will steal the last chicken nugget from you.
They will slip past you in a line.
But life goes on.


Story time. I was at the supermarket at midnight. I was gonna buy some chicken nuggets for a writing snack. And just when I come round the aisle, SOMEONE TOOK THE LAST PACK. (1/?)


SHE JUST GRABBED IT. And I shouted “Hey those are mine!” and she just ignores me and walks off. What the f*ck? (2/?)


I mean it’s one thing if you’re gonna take the last nuggets but you’re also gonna ignore me? And when I was about to step into one of the cashiers, lo and behold, she appears again! (3/?)


She slips right in front of me and pays for her damn chicken nuggets. One day, I will find you. And suffocate you in chicken nuggets. Just you wait. (4/?)


Tfw you buy chicken nuggets and some guy rants about it on Twitter even though they’re rightfully yours

January 30 / 08:05


Thank you to everyone who made this album possible. Here’s to all the blood shed and tears spilled.


Okay I’m supposed to be writing but HOLY MOLY. @Y/N’s most recent album is F*CKING FIRE. This is going to be the only thing that I listen to today.


@Lin_Manuel Thank you! Did you like track 2?


@Y/N Absolutely loved it. Elegantly done. How do you get the inspiration for this kind of genius, master?


@Lin_Manuel Glad you asked! Few months ago, I was buying chicken nuggets and this guy got mad because I took the last one. Also, I beat him to the cashier, and later that day he poured out his feelings on Twitter.


@Y/N Oh.


@Lin_Manuel Oh indeed, Lin. Or should I call you ‘the guy who rhymed son with sun’?


@Y/N Um okay but at least that rhymed. Chicken nugget and unwritten sonnet don’t rhyme. I take back what I said about track 2.


@Lin_Manuel Are you saying you can come up with a better rhyme for chicken nugget?


@Y/N Taking the last chicken nugget, staking it fast and kickin’ it like a bucket

@Lin_Manuel Brilliant. Amazing. Superb. Impressive. Remarkable. Exceptional. Marvelous. Excellent.


@Y/N Thanks for showing us that you can use a dictionary! See ya next time when you learn more words!


@Lin_Manuel *thesaurus

February 29 / 15:07


@Y/N Karen told me that she spotted you at Hamilton. Why didn’t you tell me that you were suddenly a huge fan?


@Lin_Manuel I watched it as a writer. For writing inspiration. And I’m very impressed with the musical. Not you.


@Y/N Oh so I have yet to impress you? I mean I impressed people enough to get me a couple of awards.


@Lin_Manuel Do something worth my being impressed at, and we’ll see about that.


@Y/N Oh it’s SO on like Donkey Kong.

March 4 / 23:50


@Y/N Congrats on the Billboard #1! Hope it can last 2 weeks like Hamilton did


@Lin_Manuel How do you manage to be an asshole and a friend in one tweet

March 6 / 02:05


Sometimes I like to imagine that Eliza Schuyler from Hamilton is based off me. We’re both pure, smart and lovable.


@Y/N Nice try. You were the greatest inspiration for Jefferson, though. Where else would I find someone as annoying and cocky?


@Lin_Manuel The mirror maybe?

April 17 / 22:05


Congrats on the Oscar. And the PEGOT. You still haven’t (pe)GOT my heart, though. @Lin_Manuel


@Y/N Wow yes because very other award fades in comparison to winning your heart.

April 30 / 12:05


Bit of a day. Met Mark Hamill. Bought a lightsaber. Harrison Ford thought @Y/N and I were dating.


@Lin_Manuel 1. Absolutely never 2. DETAILS PLEASE!! Harrison Ford was my childhood crush


I told him you were stubborn like Leia. He said that I was Han. I said “Sure we’re Han and Leia without the whole falling in love thing.” @Y/N


@Lin_Manuel Nicely phrased.

May 14 / 15:30


I’ve never tried sashimi. It looks weird as hell


@Y/N Shame on you.


@Lin_Manuel Are you suggesting something?


@Y/N If the girl wasn’t you I would’ve offered to take her to try them.


@Lin_Manuel Yeah like I’d go anywhere with you anyway. Hypothetically if you were taking this girl with you, where would you go?


@Y/N I’d tell her that she has to go with me to find out.


@Lin_Manuel And if she can’t stand you but really wants the sashimi?


@Y/N I’d make sure that by the end of the date she’ll be in love with me.


@Lin_Manuel You talk big. Care to prove it?


@Y/N DM me your number and you’ll find out.

May 15 / 10:05


I have converted @Y/N into a sashimi-er.


@Lin_Manuel more importantly, is she in love with you now?


@ham4ham4ham Am I?


@Y/N @ham4ham4ham Great things take time.

July 31 / 13:35


Why do @Lin_Manuel and @Y/N never talk again??


@wowhamilton I feel like a 13-year-old saying this but I have her number now. I got her number guys!


@Lin_Manuel I feel like a 13-year-old saying this but I really like texting you.


@Y/N *screenshots and sends to friends*

August 17 / 21:56


@Y/N Do you maybe kinda wanna be my date to the Tonys? *runs away to hide*


@Lin_Manuel From sashimi to Tonys? You’re a real overachiever aren’t you


@Y/N Is that a yes?


@Lin_Manuel Yes x100



August 25 / 14:26


Today I was a wonderful thirdwheeler, as you can see in this photo


@Karenolivo76 The loveliest girl in the place. Hint: not you Karen

We know, Lin. It’s you. @Lin_Manuel


@Y/N Goddamit I really need to go back in time and talk to Hamilton so he can help me up my game. I wrote the lyric ‘if it takes fighting a war to meet it will have been worth it’ y’know. I’m good at this flirting thing I swear

September 18 / 13:25


Wait for a guy who makes you feel like you’re in high school with your heart doing jumping jacks. It’s worth it, I promise.


Wait for a girl who makes your heart spin and makes you unaccountably nervous. She’ll come.


@Lin_Manuel She’ll come hehehehehe


@Y/N Well if you look at it that way it ain’t wrong either



September 29 / 09:05


Bookstore dates are the best. @Y/N is the best.


@Lin_Manuel You’re such a nerd. One that I happen to be in love with, though.

October 10 / 17:31


Sometimes she looks at me and I’m Eliza, wide-eyed and adoring. She’s got me helpless.


Sometimes he looks at me and I’m Philip. Dead. He got me deceased.

October 19 / 13:48


Goodbyes are the worsttt. @Y/N I love you don’t get an affair see you in a few months


Wish I could be there with you. Kinda hard to get an affair when I can’t stop thinking about you. @Lin_Manuel


@Y/N Just now on the plane I bought some Oreos. I just realised that you weren’t there to eat the white cream so I decided not to eat the Oreos. Life really does suck without you.

November 1 / 23:59


Wrote a sad song today. It’s about a girl who misses someone but knows that he’s gone doing something great. Sounds familiar


@Y/N Heard your song on the radio today. Started crying in the cab. Driver looked at me weird. I miss you.


@Lin_Manuel Fell asleep listening to your interviews yesterday. Just wanted to hear you talk as though you were next to me.

November 4 / 00:01


@Y/N Happy birthday to the very best. Thank you for learning salsa just so my dad would like you and for making me the best homemade ice cream. You transcend Eliza. You’re you, and I love you.


@Lin_Manuel Thanks, loser! Come back home. I miss you.

November 5 / 02:05


Guess who just came home for my birthday!!!!! @Lin_Manuel


Good night.
Sometimes you gotta lose something to gain something even better.
I lost a pack of chicken nuggets but gained the love of my life.

A Little Like Whiplash

(based on this, part two of this, Russian translations under the story itself) 

Jonathan isn’t generally a judgemental person. He likes to think that he sees the best in most people, even if they don’t deserve it.

For some reason, he’s never been able to do that with Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian bombshell that nobody knows or cares to know because he’s terrifying and has a tendency to be an asshole.

He has the distinct impression that Yuri, despite clearly not being a scholarship kid (he’s wearing designer everything, and he drives a Maserati; there’s no way that he came to Portland State for any reason other than that he wanted to), would rather be anywhere but here. He sleeps through the two classes that he shares with Jonathan, and for some reason, the professors allow it. If he was a bit less of an antisocial shit, though, Jonathan would probably have a crush; for all his faults, Yuri is one the most attractive person that he’s ever seen outside of magazines with his immaculately braided, waist-length hair and pouty lips and perfect eyeliner (Jonathan is sure he’s the only one that’s noticed that last bit; the subtlety of it is the reason it’s so damn perfect).

The first time he ever actually says anything, it’s one of those days that the professor decides, for whatever reason, not to show up for class. Until the fifteen minute limit passes, the class hums with a low buzz of noise. Yuri, predictably, is asleep.

Jonathan has a few friends in this class, Anthony and Thomas, and they’re chatting quietly about the baseball game on Saturday. Somehow, the topic shifts to that one asshole that’s always sleeping through class.

“Fifteen minutes!” The girl by the door calls out, and the class gets up.

“I’m just saying, why pay for the classes if you’re just gonna sleep through them?” Anthony says, shouldering his bag and heading for the door.

There’s a snort from behind them. Veronica. Jonathan really doesn’t want to deal with her right now; she’s even worse than Yuri, if only because she isn’t quiet about her disdain for the rest of them. “You know they only accept applications from people like him because he’s part of a minority, right?”

When she sees Jonathan’s raised eyebrows, she mistakes his irritation for curiosity. “Come on, don’t tell me you can’t tell. He’s a goddamn fairy.”

He’s wondering if outing himself here and now would make the situation better or worse when there’s an angry “Huh?” from behind them. The loud bang that follows terrifies all of them, but particularly Jonathan, Veronica, and the other two. Jonathan hadn’t even noticed that Yuri was awake, much less that he was nearby. Now his foot is against the wall, not even an inch from Veronica’s head (flexible, Jonathan can’t help but think). The look on his face pumps shards of ice through Jonathan’s veins.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” he growls.

His voice is different than Jonathan would have expected; maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, but he’d expected a low tenor, rather than a mezzo baritone, and his accent is there, but not nearly as thick as Jonathan expected. He stalks out of the room dangerously, and the entire class just stands there in shock for a moment.

Next week, when Veronica stops coming to class and he hears that she’s been expelled, Jonathan is sure that it has everything to do with the rich guy sleeping two seats behind him.

“Jonathan, there are only three people in your group for the upcoming term paper,” the professor says, jolting Jonathan out of his thoughts. It’s true; he, Anthony, and Thomas are planning on working together, since there were an odd number of people in the class. Now that Veronica is gone, that’s not true anymore. “I’m assigning Yuri to your group.”

Fantastic, Jonathan thinks, glancing at Yuri.

He looks up blearily and mutters something in the most snide, sarcastic voice Jonathan has ever heard– yoroshiku onegaishimasu –before dropping his head back on his arms. That didn’t sound like Russian, Jonathan thinks, packing up to leave.

Thomas nudges him. “Dude!” he whispers. “He speaks Japanese? What the hell? And I think that was supposed to be polite, but it sounded like an insult.”

“He can also hear you,” comes from behind them. Yuri has apparently given up on sleep since class is over, and has his phone in his hand. The one that isn’t texting reaches behind him and tugs on something that releases the bun he’s sporting today, letting the waist-length braid fall down his back. He leans his face in one hand and stares at his phone boredly. “You three aren’t the most oblivious people I know, but you’re definitely in the top twenty.”

Jonathan doesn’t know what to say, really. The hottest, laziest guy in class is in a group with him for a paper that’s worth twenty percent of their grade, and their first conversation has gotten off to the worst start possible.

“So,” Anthony says awkwardly. “When do you guys want to meet up?”

“I’m only free on Tuesdays. Yuri, I’m pretty sure you only have class twice a week? Maybe we can meet up for lunch,” Thomas says, trying a friendly approach.

“I can’t meet up on my days off. I have training. It’s a paper on the Japan’s involvement in World War II and how it affects today, right?” Yuri asks, still looking bored.

“Yeah. What do you mean? Do you practice all day on every one of your days off or something?” Anthony sounds mildly teasing, but there’s an undertone of disbelief there.

Yuri looks at Anthony, as if he can’t believe he would ask such a stupid question. “Um, yes? What else would I be doing?”

None of them really has a response for that. Yuri doesn’t look like the athletic type, really. He’s lean, almost willowy; not skinny by any means, since there’s definitely muscle there, but it’s not the build Jonathan would expect from an athlete who practices as much as Yuri claims to.

“Anyway, I’ll deal with the history part,” Yuri says, standing up and stretching. Jonathan tries not to stare at the thin strip of skin that appears when he does. What? He may be an asshole, but Yuri is gorgeous. He’d have to be dead not to notice. “I’ll have it to you by… Tuesday, right?”

“I can do Tuesday,” Jonathan says, not really sure what’s happening anymore.

“So can I.”

Yuri blinks and glances at the table searchingly. “Right,” he says, picking up a sticky note he’d left there and scribbling something down. “Here’s my number. Text me your emails and I’ll send you my part of the project. Bye.”

He walks out of the room, phone already at his ear. “Beka! Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya?

Jonathan looks at Anthony and Thomas, not totally sure what just happened. “So who’s going to pick up the slack on his part?”

That’s not actually necessary, it turns out. Jonathan sent Yuri his email out of courtesy, but when he rolls out of bed on Saturday morning, he finds four pages of 12 point Times New Roman font on Japan’s involvement in World War II, complete with instructions to let Yuri know if there’s anything else that they want him to do (but he won’t be doing the whole damn thing, he doesn’t have time for that).

Except for a few grammatical errors, there’s almost nothing wrong with the work. Jonathan is floored. Maybe this is why the professors let Yuri sleep through class. It’s disrespectful as all hell, but from the way he writes, it’s almost like he doesn’t need to be there at all.

When he’s awake and recovered enough to send a reply, he does. He lets Yuri that there’s nothing wrong with the work, and that he’s looking forward to class on Wednesday. He’s not, but it’s the polite thing to do.

Apparently, Yuri doesn’t planning on extending the same courtesy. “Can’t make it,” he says again, looking bored as he taps away on his phone.

This time, Jonathan actually speaks up. “We could meet up after you’re done with practice or something. It actually works out better for me and Anthony, since we have class on Tuesday.”

“That would work, I guess, but I’m going to be in Japan on Tuesday.” The tone of Yuri’s voice doesn’t change, despite the bomb he’s just dropped.

Why the hell would anyone just up and leave for Japan in the middle of the semester? No matter how rich Yuri is (and he’s definitely rich; they may not know anything about him, but he’s definitely a rich Russian of some sort) it makes no sense. He’s going to miss at least three days of class even if he’s only going to be in Japan for one day, which Jonathan highly doubts. He doesn’t care how pretty or smart this kid thinks he is, there’s no way for him to pass his classes with the way he acts.

“Then cancel it.” He doesn’t even realize that he’s saying the words until they’re out of his mouth, and by then it’s too late.

The look that Yuri fixes on him is as dangerous as it was that day with Veronica. “Fuck you.”

Jonathan backpedals. “I didn’t mean–”

Yuri’s phone rings, cutting him off. The ringtone in itself is enough to cause all three jaws to drop; it’s some classical thing with a boys’ choir singing in what sounds like Latin. Yuri sneers at them, and Jonathan can’t help but think he may have fucked up pretty bad. “Just send me whatever part you want me to handle for the presentation and I’ll do it. Tell me to cancel my trip again, and I won’t do my bit. I’ll still pass without this stupid project.”

He gets up and stalks toward the door, picking up the phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way to the parking lot now. Shit! Would it kill you to wait a minute and a half, Dad? I said I’ll be there in a minute! Katsudon, get your husband off the goddamn phone when he’s driving. Do you want to die?”

Yet again, there’s this feeling of not really knowing what’s happening by the time Yuri is out of sight. I’ll still pass without this stupid project, he said. That’s almost impossible, unless he has an A in the class. Which he shouldn’t, because he sleeps through it. His participation grade alone should have dropped him to a B unless he’s gotten A’s on every single assignment. There’s no way.

“I need a drink,” Jonathan mutters, and there are murmured agreements from Anthony and Thomas both. “You guys want to go to Shizuku?”

“I’m down.” Anthony says. “Hell, I’ll pay. My treat, after all of that bullshit.”

It’s not even ten minutes to their favorite restaurant by car, but they figure it’ll be easier to walk. There’s no point in driving three cars to get to one place, and none of them are keen on getting their cars out of the student lot right now, since it’s nearly rush hour.

It takes them about thirty minutes to get there, and it’s blessedly empty when they do. There are only a few occupied tables. Still, it seems louder than it usually does, Jonathan notices as they’re waiting to be seated. There’s one table in particular that seems to be making more noise than the rest of the restaurant combined. That makes sense, he thinks, eyeing the back of a silver-haired man’s head. There are a lot of them. At least six, it looks like.

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste.” That voice… it sounds way too happy to be him, but given how the day has gone, Jonathan wouldn’t be surprised.

The silver haired guy moves slightly. It looks like he leaned his face on his hand. “Yurio, don’t be rude. You and your friend aren’t the only people at this table, you know. Richard and Estephania are here too, and they don’t speak Russian.”

“It’s fine,” the person on silver haired’s left says. She has long, dark hair that swishes when she shakes her head. “It’s funny to see Yuri so excited about something for once.”

Jonathan gets a partial view of someone with dark hair and a very serious face. It’s almost scary how quickly he realises that he’s being looked at, and he looks Jonathan dead in the eye. The man nods once, then looks away without acknowledging him further.

“Beka? What are you looking at?” A head of blond hair comes into view, and Jonathan finds himself looking directly into the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky.

I fucked up, Jonathan thinks immediately, watching the mirth drain out of Yuri’s eyes almost instantly, replaced with irritation.

“Johnny? What is it– Oh, shit.” Anthony hides behind a menu.

“If you’re stalking me, I swear to god I will shove my silverware up your respective asses,” Yuri says, looking dead serious. “I have more than enough stalkers.”

That’s cause enough for Jonathan to pause and wonder what he means, but then the strangest thing happens. Instead of looking even remotely alarmed, the way any normal person would, the three people with their backs facing toward Jonathan, Anthony, and Thomas all turn at a totally normal, unhurried pace. Two of them, the silver haired man and the Asian looking man next to him, are even smiling.

“Hello!” the silver haired man says, waving. “Are you Yurio’s friends? Here, come sit with us! We’ve never met any of his friends from school before.”

Who the hell says something like that after hearing him call us stalkers? Jonathan thinks, feeling out of his element and way too overwhelmed. There’s really nothing to do but accept, so the three of them walk to the table as a group.

“Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike,” the serious man says to Yuri quietly, probably trying not to be heard.

Yuri looks murderous. “Ya ne.”

There’s a split second war between Thomas, Jonathan, and Anthony as to who is going to sit next to the scary serious guy. Jonathan loses. It’s fine. He’ll take scary serious guy over angry Yuri Plisetsky any day.

“My name is Otabek. Yuri is my best friend,” scary serious guy says, holding out a hand.

Jonathan takes it hesitantly, but Otabek’s grip isn’t anything but polite. “Jonathan. That’s Thomas, and that’s Anthony. We take American History with Yuri.”

“My name is Victor, and this is my husband Yuuri! Not your Yuri, we call him Yurio,” the silver haired man says. The Japanese man next to him blushes, and Jonathan supposes that he’s the other Yuuri.

“I will shove my knife shoes so far up your ass, Nikiforov, that you won’t be able to sit for a year,” Yuri warns.

“Yurio is our son. We’re so glad Yuri is actually making friends at school, I was worried for a while. I’m sure you know how tricky he can be sometimes,” Victor continues, ignoring the incredibly violent threat as if it happens every day. What the hell did Yuri even mean by knife shoes, anyway?

“You shut the fuck up, old man!”

It doesn’t surprise Jonathan in the slightest that Yuri has two dads; it explains a lot about the whole incident with Veronica earlier this year. What he is surprised about is the fact that Yuri’s dads seem so… nice.

Jonathan isn’t sure if that’s pleasant or terrifying.

“Victor and Yuuri are my figure skating coaches,” Yuri mutters, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything but this.

“Wait, you’re a figure skater?” Thomas asks, looking intrigued; seriously, how that guy manages to be so laid back all the time is– wait, what?

“Is that what you keep missing meetings to practice?” Jonathan asks. Suddenly it all makes sense: the lean muscle, the crazy flexibility and precision it would require to nearly kick someone in the head, the whole random flight to Japan.

The entire table erupts into laughter, even the Hispanic woman and the other man that they haven’t been introduced to yet.

Yuri turns bright red, looking both flustered and annoyed. “Oh, fuck off, all of you. Especially you, Katsudon! You have no right to laugh after what happened with these two.” He points aggressively at the two people Jonathan and the others don’t know.

The Japanese man, Yuuri, is the first one to manage to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Yura. I’m laughing because I know how you feel.” He turns to Jonathan, Thomas, and Anthony, still smiling brightly. “He actually medalled at the Olympics last year. He’s won gold for Russia several times, as well.”

Jonathan isn’t the only person at the table with his jaw dropped. The waitress comes by and sets waters in front of the three of them. Even when she leaves, he still can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say. He’s pretty sure that earlier today, he just told an Olympian medalist to cancel a trip to what was probably a competition at the last minute. He wants to die of embarrassment, even if he had good reason.

“He probably didn’t mention it because he’s too angry that he let that Canadian get gold and he only got bronze,” Victor teases. He slings an arm around his husband. “Still, my son and my husband on the podium at the same time! It’s any man’s dream. I’m so proud!”

There’s a scraping noise on the table. When Jonathan looks down, he sees that Otabek slid over a phone with the screen open to a news article about men’s figure skating and yep, there’s Yuuri. And that’s definitely Yuri, but he looks… different. Happy. Jonathan looks from Otabek to Yuri to the article, then back to Otabek. He knows he’s panicking, because there’s nothing he can really say to make himself feel less awkward but maybe someone calm like Otabek can help him out.

Otabek gives him a thumbs up.

Translations (let me know if I need to fix any, I don’t speak Russian) 

yoroshiku onegaishimasu - Japanese - I look forward to working with you (yes, he’s being a sarcastic little shit here)

Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya? - Russian - roughly translates to “we’re still on for lunch today?”

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste. - Russian - Look at the kitten, Beka! It’s so cute! Look at its little paws and tail.

Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike - Russian - I thought you said you don’t have friends in America.

Ya ne. - Russian - I don’t.

SPN Hunters and Poverty

Ok the Original Post* was getting pretty long and I wanted to go off on a tangent so I’ve started a new one here:

So like, the audience is supposed to think it’s uncomfortable and possibly wrong for people whose job it is to save the world to have a certain level of luxury. Which is less than the one the people making the story have.

Honestly, I always knew they were there, but for the first time I’m actually kinda creeped out by the class issues in SPN (ok, I lie- the prices Creation charges creep me the fuck out, but aside from that. I mean in the actual story). Like, Sam and Dean are not truly poor anymore. But they do still live partially as working poor. They’re still economically insecure; depicted as, in some ways, working poor people who go into mostly middle-class and upper-middle-class communities, do a horrifying vital service, and then disappear. And it’s romantic, heroic. But it’s wrong.

Like, it’s actually a moral wrong that they should be poor. They deserve to be at least as economically stable as their creators.

We talk a lot about romanticizing violence, but what does it mean that the whole structure of the show honestly kinda romanticizes the poverty of the working class? Walmart is not romantic; it just sucks. @chiisana-sukima

Yes, American SPN Hunters are portrayed, generally, as working class (Winchesters, Campbells, Bobby) or middle class (Asa Fox, Jody, Donna). I think it is important to keep in mind that one reason full time hunters often seem poor is that the majority of what they are doing is a) considered criminal and b) needs to stay secret.  So they have to live under/off the radar.  In order to do that, you need to be either VERY, VERY wealthy (and bribe everyone) or you have to commit fraud on a daily basis. Assuming none of our hunters have endless supplies of cash, being cheap helps with the daily committing fraud process. Here’s why/how:

1) Hunters scam credit cards  - because they can’t hold down a real job and hunt, which means they have no means of income (other than technically criminal activity like hustling pool and looting the monster victims). Also, they can’t BE themselves - they cannot afford to be traced - by the authorities OR by the very smart humanoid monsters they hunt. Scammed cards can get detected really fast if you are throwing money around. Also, scammed cards are only as good as their limit (which is likely to be low) - so you want to make them last as long as possible. Lastly, when your card IS caught, skeevy, ethically questionable places are less likely to report it to the police. So Hunters look for cheap, dive places to spend their fake cash. Note: often some of these skeevy places are NOT less expensive than the Holiday In Express - they just ask fewer questions or will rent a room without a credit card or will forget you were there (or are more used to cleaning up blood from sheets).

2) Hunters are con men - they have to pretend to be authority figures/repairmen/teachers/social workers/lost relatives in order to get the information they need. They need to be ‘noticed’ as little as possible and leave almost record of their stay. Using a credit card leaves a trail - so that means using cash in places that won’t notice cash, and eating in places that see (and forget) lots of strangers. They also need to be hard to find when their identity is questioned. Who would look for the FBI in a skeevy hotel? Those two shifty guys in flannel coming out of the dilapidated Inn on rt 20 couldn’t possibly be the nice men we talked to earlier today…[of course the giant black car and hunter’s ridiculously good looks aren’t a problem, but that’s tv land for you].

3) Hunters are rural nomads - Notice that, in general, Hunters try to stay out of cities. While one of the main themes of SPN was supposed to be a focus on ‘heartland America’  - but really, woods monsters hide in rural areas, and (in theory) many human-eating monsters are are nomads, roaming for food. Thus Hunters focus on rural America and move around a lot following the monsters. Rural America is full of very small towns/places with no other option than the 1-2 star hotel (or less). One of my fav personal stories is of staying in the ONE motel in the entire COUNTY in TN - and it was EXACTLY the kind of place a Hunter would stay (right down to the friendly diner next door and the truck stop on the other side).  If you were wealthy and wanted to stay in that area - you rented a whole HOUSE/cabin in the nearby picturesque woods  - which is likely to get VERY noticed - or you stayed 30-50 inconvenient miles away.

US Hunters Evolving: Donna and Jody are an exception to many of the above statements. But they are a different kind of hunter - one that fans feel is an evolution of the American Hunter - the regional protectors. Jody and Donna, both suburban middle class, use their actual positions of authority to learn about and track monsters and also to cover up the evidence. They keep their own gerenal area ‘clean’ and call in “full time” nomadic hunters to deal with scarier stuff or stuff they hear about outside their territories. Their positions and training also make them capable fighters - brave, good with guns, etc.

US Hunters Best of a Broken System: Lastly, remember that the US did have a system more like that of the BMOL - academic magicians in authority directing local hunters to kill problems. What the US has NOW is what developed as a stop gap when the MoL vanished. Hunters like Dorothy and Mr. Ketch (shudder) trained others to keep the monsters at bay. They were focused on the find and kill part - not the administrative outlook of “Hey, if we are smart and make enough $, we can do this job better, faster and more efficiently.”  ‘Cause *I* know I sleep better in nicer hotels and I WORK better if I’m really well rested. Sam and Dean are MACHINES, really, - the stuff they pull off given how crappy they treat their bodies…

In Conclusion: Hell, I’ve lost the thread of where I was really going with this…it has devolved into an examination of WHY the class differences exist between US and British ‘hunter systems’. Not sure I’ve addressed @chiisana-sukima‘s concern about the morality of SPN implying that hunters SHOULD be poor or working class. 

Anyone else?

hey guys i rated the cleffa sprites

Gold: Simple. Arms extended out for a hug. 8/10

Silver: Arms not extended out for a hug, but instead on her face to extenuate her cuteness. Not sure which one I like better 8/10

Crystal: Less round, more like the shape she is today and also LOOK AT HER SHE’S SO GOOD AAAAAAA. She’s supposed to animate, if she’s not for you just trust me, it’s really cute. 11/10

Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald/FireRed/LeafGreen: This sprite is the start of her tilting to the side. This goes on for many years. Not sure why, but I hope she’s okay. Also more advanced graphics allow her to be a softer pink. I like this. She waves hello. 9/10

Diamond/Pearl: Again with the tilting. She probably thinks she looks cute. She is right. 9/10

Platinum: Her back hurt from all the tilting. She is happy because she can be comfortable again. The smile really puts it over the edge. 10/10

HeartGold/SoulSilver: Even more soft pink, though only slightly. This pleases me. I would give her any amount of money she asked for. Please animate Cleffa more often. 11/10

Black/White/Black 2/White 2: Step, step, ear wiggle. Not sure if those are ears, but they are cute. Thank you for animating her more. 12/10

X/Y/ORAS/Sun/Moon: I love her dance. Animation is simple. 10/10


A good, nice pink and green which is my favorite color. She deserves to be rare and I hope she lives a long happy life. Everything/10

Tl;Dr at the bottom.

So earlier today this guy tried to short-change me. Which is, if you don’t know, means it will put my till under amount of bills I’m suppose to have.

Now I am a little bit ditzy but I’m also a hard worker and can remember a lot of stuff. So I see that I gave him his $16 in change back, the usual stuff. Well he says I didn’t give him his $10 and showed me his money.
Now the way I do money, I don’t know if everyone does this or its just me, I put the receipt down then the biggest to smallest bills. So receipt, 10, 5, 1. Well I have never in my life ever put a $1 underneath a $5.

So this guy shows me his hand of cash with a $1, $5, then another $1. I just smile at him and say, “I remember giving you a $10 and I saw you pull that $1 out of your pocket and stick the $10 inside. Have a nice day.”
I then stared at him with a big Retail™ smile until I shame him into leaving. Then I hear him grumbling about how it was unfair that I didn’t give more change.

Tl;dr so a guy tried to short-change my till and I knew he was lying, so I shame him into leaving by smiling.


Alright guys, so here’s a few spoilers from @crewefox‘s next chapter in Star of Ceartais, which he will be posting later on today! Be sure to check it out when he posts it. Things get REALLY intense in this chapter like holy crap. I honestly can’t wait to read it. Hope you enjoy the comic in the meantime to leave you guys on a cliff hanger! 

Oh also before I forget, if you haven’t read the story and are wondering why these two look a little, well -different-, it’s because they are HYBRIDS. So yeah they’re supposed to look like that. Byeee

#SaveHannibal Countdown: Naka-Choko

We’re 119 days from Bryan’s two years ultimatum now, counting down for S4 news!

Today is S02 E10  Naka-Choko three years anniversary!

To celebrate, reblog this and add your favorite Naka-Choko scene pic, meme, quote, gif etc. - or your own fanwork.

My favorite moment (among others) of Naka-Choko is when Will brings the meat. I love it because… Hannibal knows what it was - but we also know Will didn’t kill Freddie. He was supposed to play a game, to pretend and seduce Hannibal while in fact being the good guy. But Hannibal isn’t stupid and when he knew what the meat was - it couldn’t be anything else!

Jack might provide false body to pretend Freddie’s death, but I really doubt he would give Will a piece of meat to support their feast…

On the other hand, Will’s freezer was full of Randall Tier pieces.

So this is the first time Will knowingly and willingly ate a human flesh. Even more, it was from his own prey and he shared it with Hannibal, isn’t it beautiful? :)))

Interview bonuses:

Who were Will and Hannibal dining on last week?

Fuller: That was Randall Tier. The two choices would be either Randall Tier or the donated corpse of the woman they falsified to be Freddie Lounds. And, God knows how long that body’s been on the shelf! [Laughs] At least we know Randall is fresh meat.

So, Jack knows everything?

Fuller: It was interesting over the last few episodes to be playing Jack Crawford without commitment to any one person’s point of view. Now, we realize he is in fact one of the architects of this whole plan. (…) But there are things that even Jack doesn’t know. For example, I don’t think Jack knows that Will ate somebody. [Laughs] I think that’s something that Will may have kept to himself.

And of course, also this was beautiful:

It’s never easy to choose a scene, Hannibal is simply full of perfection! So I hope you will point out some other scenes here with me ;-)

#SaveHannibal Countdown: Kaiseki - Sakizuki - Hassun - Takiawase - Mukozuke - Futamono - Yakimono - Su-zakana - Shiizakana - Naka-Choko - Ko No Mono

“I finally understand”

I was supposed to write this for April 3rd, on NaruSaku day, but as I told you guys I was super duper busy, and sadly wasn’t able.

But here I am with it now. :D Hope you enjoy! I also have such a beautiful imagery in my head, too bad I cannot draw. T_T

The warm breeze danced with the last remaining cherry blossoms before their departure, and birds were chirping their lithe spring song. A beautiful and peaceful day, perfect for receiving Sasuke’s visit to Konoha after his long travels. 

They were supposed to meet at the bench, that fateful place that was witness to their teammate departure for revenge, and yet today, it was one to the changed winds of the present. Sakura was already there, thinking back and forth about the past and the present, smiling from time to time, thinking at how much things had went up and down. Naruto was supposed to have been there, but as time passed, he seemed to borrow from Kakashi’s old habits of being stuck on the “path of life”.

“That baka…” she thought to herself while a warm smile curled her lips. “Always running here and there, never really standing still in one place” her thoughts continued flowing into her mind. “I just hope you’ll make it on time and not make Sasuke-kun wait. After all, you kept going on and on about how he’s so late to visit us, and here you are now, not even being able to keep your end of the bargain.”

It wasn’t long until in the distance as you looked inside the village’s gates that a glowing silhouette could be spotted. With his heart racing and his breath quite abrupt after the long run, Naruto finally made it and saluted her.

“Sakura-chan! Sorry for being late, but you see, I left home earlier and on the road here I stopped at Ichiraku’s to salute the old man and he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: a free bowl of Ichiraku, since now I am one of the heroes who saved Konoha and the entire shinobi world…”, he spoke in a hurry in order to try to explain Sakura as quick and as objectively possible so she could understand and not get mad at him. But as he was relating his granted not fully excusable experience, he stopped when he saw Sakura laughing.

“Sakura-chan… what’s so funny?” he asked puzzled, not understanding exactly Sakura’s reaction, as he would’ve expected her to lash at him rather than… well, this.

Sakura stopped laughing as serenity took upon her and looked at him warmly. 

“Remember us in the old days, more explicitly in our genin days?” she asked.

“Yeah, you were so cool back then!”, Naruto replied quick and as if it was an instinct, an extension of his self. 

“No, I wasn’t!”, Sakura quickly corrected him as her brows furrowed for a moment but quickly tuned back to their relaxed state. “I was only a bookworm. A bookworm with no resistance and skill in combat whatsoever. You know, for a long time I thought that I would never make it on the front, there, with you and Sasuke-kun, and that I could only watch you guys from the back”, Sakura continued as flashes from those old times were going through her mind.

Naruto stopped his story and looked at her without interrupting. For a moment, her story reminded him of all the times he felt unsure with his own power and place inside this world.

“I thought that what I had learned, what I had stored in this big forehead of mine was all for nothing, that there was nothing I could do”, she added. “That my Heaven wasn’t going to help at all in my Earth problems”, Sakura kept going as she remembered Iruka’s lesson from the times of the genin exam.

“But I couldn’t just give up. I had to do something, somehow. There had to be something I could do with everything I had learned”, she continued as passion started boiling in her veins and enveloped her self as she was telling Naruto all those things, clenching her first.

“With this big stubborn forehead of mine”, she added when she changed back into a more relaxed state, bringing her hand over her seal, as that serene smile came back to her face.

“I had to find a way to protect you two” Sakura said as her she caressed gently her forehead seal. “I couldn’t just give up” she told him, looking straight into his eyes.

At that moment, Naruto’s pupils grew large, as two memories at the same time flashed inside his mind. One was of those times when Kakashi had asked him if he was serious about not understanding her genin exam fight with Ino, and the second, at the same time, was of when for the first time he understood why he liked her so much.

“I finally understand”, he thought to himself as he reflexively moved closer to Sakura, took her hands into his and kissed her forehead.

He couldn’t explain from where this courage on his heart, as he always feared that she could straight punch him into the Hokage faces if needed be, but this time, he couldn’t just keep it for him, his impulses and such strong feelings were far beyond his control up until now.

“You always had a charming forehead. Made me want to kiss it for so long”, he added as his lips detached from her forehead.”

First day on the job

So I just started training my new assistant manager today at a place where we try to stop the games.

Because of the allotment of hours we were given for the week, we both had to take our breaks at some point when it was just us. Which means, my new assistant on his first day had to be left alone for half an hour.

I tried to take my break at a time that I knew we wouldn’t be busy.

He’s doing really well and has the computer system down already. He was learning really fast! I was super excited and asked him if he needed anything from me before I took my break. He said he felt confident and off I went.

As I was leaving, I noticed a family was looking at a PlayStation VR headset. What happened after that I had no idea.

I get back and I swear several seconds of being back on the clock I got a phone call from a woman.

“I just got home and I realized that the game we just purchased with our VR headset did not have a game in the case. It was also supposed to be new and was t even shrink wrapped. The guy who helped us seemed fidgety and nervous and just didn’t know what he was doing the entire time.”

Me: “ma'am I apologize. Today was his first shift. If you want to come back we can get that fixed for you-”

Her (getting angry): “we live an hour away!!!!! Can’t we just take it to a closer store!?”

Me: “no, unfortunately, and the reason is because that would mess up both of our stores inventory. If you guys can bring it back with the receipt, I’d be happy to discount the game 10%.”

Her: “yeah okay. My daughter will be there soon then.”

Okay, so like two hours later, her son comes in. He has the receipt, has his moms debit card, and we ended up discounting the game. It literally gave them back $4. But at least saying 10% sounds like more. They spent way more in gas. I’m a terrible person.

I’ve never laughed so hard.

Airport Confessions - Conor Maynard

Request: No

Smut: No

Requests are OPEN!


 I usually write in Second Person but for this one, I thought I’d try out first person. I hope it flows. Also, this is the last one for today guys! I hope you like it! :)


What was I supposed to do? It was happening and there was no way in hell that I was going to be able to stop it. I didn’t think it would ever happen…but it was. Conor Maynard was leaving. For three months. God dammit.

“Here’s to Conor and his adventures for the next three months over in LA. Good luck, bro!” Joe said, as he raised his glass at the dinner table.

We were all heading out for Conor’s last night in London and I was doing my best to be happy. Conor and I have known each other for a while. We collaborated on one of his covers over the summer and ever since have been good friends. We constantly hang out and I definitely consider him to be one of my best friends. However, somewhere along the line, things got complicated. I fell for him. He was always someone I could count on and being around him made me so incredibly happy that I knew he was going to be someone to me. On some nights out, we went home together but nothing ever came from our nights of intoxication. We would never really talk about it either so I never got conformation about how he feels about them.

“You okay?” Caspar asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

None of the boys knew how I felt about Conor and it killed me. I needed someone to talk to but I didn’t know whether or not I could really trust the boys with something like this. Sure, I trust them with my life but if this ever got to Conor and he didn’t feel the same…it would be the end for us. Friendship and all.

“Yeah, just tired.” I lied, reaching for my drink. 

The dinner was nice; good tasting food, alcoholic beverages and good company took my mind off the real reason why we were all sat there. As soon as we got to the club, the drinks were being passed around and Conor had found his way over to me.

“I was thinking, maybe you could come back to mine tonight? I’d love to spend my last night in London with you.” He said to me, while the others had gone to grab more drinks.

“Seriously?” I asked, shocked. I thought he would want to find some random girl he wouldn’t care enough about to ask the name of and be on his merry way but when he nodded his head, I couldn’t say no.

The next morning

The morning after was pretty bizarre. I didn’t think I would be waking up next to him but here I was. And then the sinking feeling happened. Today was the day.

The car ride to the airport was silent, seeing as everyone was hungover. Jack was driving, Conor was in the passenger seat, Alex was sitting next to me and I was sat there wondering why I was even there. Sure, Conor and I were…whatever we were but I didn’t think he’d want me to go with him to the airport. 

“Alright, this is where we leave you.” Jack said, as we reached the gate. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, bro.” I watched as they hugged and then it was Alex’s turn for goodbyes but soon, the two boys left Conor and I to say ours.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Conor said to me, wrapping one arm around my neck, bringing me closer to him while the other hand held onto his bag.

“God,” I whispered. “I thought this would be a hell of a lot easier.”

“Look at me,” Conor said, pulling back and forcing me into looking at the gorgeous blue eyes I had fallen in love with. “It’s three months, okay? I’m going to call you and face-time you, so it’s like I’m not even gone.” I nodded my head as I felt the tears coming on. This boy changed my life and he has no idea.

“Okay, go. Please.” I said, backing away from him.

“Wait,” He took my hand, pulling me back towards him and dropping his bag. He placed his free hand on my waist and pressed his lips against mine. Our first sober kiss. “I love you.”

And there it was. The three words that shook up my whole world. And I never got a chance to say them back.

Don’t - Archie Andrews Imagine

REQUESTED: Yes, requested by anon!

can you do an archie andrews imagine where a new girl moves to riverdale and she’s really badass and smokes and has tattoos and wears all black and stuff? and archie is really intrigued by her and asks her to pop’s and gets to know her and realizes she’s just covering up how broken she is with her badass facade?? sorry if this is everywhere lol

WARNINGS: Some swearing

SUMMARY: You’re new in town, and have changed everything about yourself to escape your past. A certain redhead is intrigued by this, however, and wants to dig deeper.

NOTES: Yaaaay Archie request! So, I was gonna put this up tomorrow but then I was like, “Eh, why wait?” 

Also, today I tried to write an application for a scholarship which is very difficult to do without waffling on about myself.

Anyways, hope you enjoy this imagine guys <3

Originally posted by apasource

Keep reading

I Despise You - Edmund x Reader (Pt.3)

Warnings: none

Characters: Edmund, Lucy, Peter and Susan Pevensie and (Y/N)

Setting: The Golden Age, Narnia

Blurb (???i think???): (requested by @alwaysinnarnia) The reader is a Swordswoman/Knight of Doorn and visits Narnia, soon getting off on the wrong hand with King Edmund. She stays in Narnia and they train together, and they become friends and maybe something more…


There was only one thought itching at the back of (Y/N)‘s brain.

“Come on, you’re too slow.” The king laughed as she was once again knocked to the floor.

Killing King Edmund.

She huffed a piece of hair away from her face and leaped back up, her knees were bent and she held her fists in front of her chest. The young king, in response, positioned himself and began to throw punches towards (Y/N)’s upper torso.

Peter’s order for King Edmund and (Y/N) to spend some time together to train was an absolute waste of time. She could have more affective progress training by herself, let alone a king she despised.

(Y/N) had been planning to rest until at least until noon to catch up on sleep she had missed on her travels here. Yet, there was a thunderous knock on her door at dawn and she had opened the door to a wide awake and annoyed looking Edmund Pevensie.

“What are you doing?” The King had asked as if (Y/N) was doing something utterly disgusting.

“Sleep,” she croaked underneath the pile of blankets she drew over her head.

He had scoffed with one eyebrow raised and shoved a set of tunics, trousers and two pairs of training boots into her arms.

“Be outside in five minutes,” he demanded to (Y/N) who was half disoriented. “We’re going for a run.”

“For a what!” She whisper-screamed furiously. “At dawn?!”

King Edmund rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re helpless.”

(Y/N) obviously went with him to prove him wrong, only to see that he was a much faster runner than her.

There were certain things about this king that made her want to strangle him. She couldn’t think of any at that moment though, because he had just punched her in the gut.

(Y/N) tried to ignore the pain and keep fighting, but she needed a break. She held her side and began to limp towards the bench area of where they were training. With her mouth set in a straight line and her teeth gritted together, she took a seat and let out an exhausted sigh.

King Edmund approached the bench and wiped his face with the ice cold water he had collected from a river nearby.

(Y/N)’s stinging stomach made it clear that he had bruised her. But she didn’t say anything about stopping; then he would think she was a quitter.

“We could stop if you want.” The King said. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard.“

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She winced as she pressed her finger around her bruise. “For me to give up.”

He lowered his head and chuckled, the rays of the bright sun caught in his hair and lightened his dark eyes. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as he squatted down in front of her.

“No,” he replied, his lips slightly upturned. “I thought you’d want to check if you had any broken nails.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and her heart began to pound with fury. She shoved him onto his back and stood to keep a foot on his chest.

“Patronize me again and I swear I’ll kill you.” She said with a tone of terror in her voice.

“I was kidding.” He grunted. “Get your foot off.”

“No, no I don’t think I will.”

The king looked up at her, dead in the eyes, and said, “Are you seriously-”

“Edmund!” Someone called out, and Lucy approached them with a skip in her step. “Breakfast is ready! What are you two doing?”

“Sparring. With our fists.” (Y/N) smiled as she clapped her hands together. “Isn’t that right, King Edmund?”

He grinned towards his younger sister who also added, “Oh and (Y/N); a letter arrived from Doorn.”

“Thank you, Lucy.” The swordswoman responded with a wide smile on her face.

“Don’t be late!” Lucy called back as she ran towards the castle.

(Y/N) drew her gaze back to her opponent who now had his hands underneath his head. She took her foot off of his chest and unwrapped the bandages from her knuckles.

“You haven’t learnt to fist-fight in Doorn.” King Edmund pointed out.

“No, we haven’t. It’s pointless.”

“What if you didn’t have a weapon in combat?” He asked.

“I would use anything else but my fists.”

“But let’s say you don’t have anything else.”

(Y/N) pulled her boots on and stood in front of him. “I don’t need weapons. Give me one piece of rope and I could kill someone in more than five ways.”

“You really are up yourself, aren’t you?“

“You really want me to kill you, don’t you?”

He flashed a smile as he stepped forward, making the space between them slightly shorter. She kept her eyes trained on his dark, yet playful looking ones. She felt something brush her waist and soon realized it was hand. He felt the new bruise located there and (Y/N) held back a wince.

“Sorry about that…” he said quietly.

(Y/N) ignored her slightly rapid heart beat and drew away from him after stating firmly, “Think about where you hit next time.”

He laughed softly. “I will.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him to walk back up towards the castle.

She still felt his fingers on her waist.


(Y/N) took her time bathing and grooming herself. Her room began to smell like the fig and vanilla scented soaps, filling the air around her and making her sink deeper into the tub.

She hasn’t gotten around to reading the letter from Doorn yet, and her mind began to wonder as to what her parents could possibly want. (Y/N) had often taken care of businesses that her parents couldn’t solve. She was intelligent and an excellent problem solver.

Although, she couldn’t figure out why the young king was acting like that during their training session. When he touched her waist, it felt strange; and it wasn’t because of this bruise he created there.

(Y/N) was confused by that sudden action and why he did it. She had thought it was to catch her off guard, which worked.

She drew a hand through her tangled, damp hair and began to dry herself off and dress for breakfast. She settled on a long sleeved, white tunic and a crimson floor length skirt. The stitching of multiple flowers with a golden looking thread made it seem more vibrant.

(Y/N) shut the door of her chamber and pulled on her shoes.

“Lady- I mean (Y/N),” she King Peter’s voice to her right. A smile appeared on her face as she greeted him.

“You and Edmund seem to butt heads quite a lot.” He laughed as he guided her to the dining area. “I hope this training has done any good. You know, making you sort out problems between you.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “It’s difficult to talk to someone so ignorant.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s ignorant; just very stubborn.”

“Well, if you say that then you must be correct. I should make him a friendship bracelet to express how sorry I am.” she stated sarcastically, earning a laugh from Peter.

They arrived at the doors of the dining room and entered. (Y/N) was greeted by Lucy and Susan who both complemented her on what she was wearing.

“You know, if you really like the skirts I could get more for you,” Susan said kindly. “They look beautiful on you.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Thank you very much, Susan. I’d love that.”

“Sorry I’m late,” someone stated from behind her. She rolled her eyes as she recognised it as King Edmund who walked to the empty seat across her.

Just as he took a seat, two fauns appeared into the room and began to distribute the almost unreal looking dishes.

“You make it look like you’ve never seen a pancake before, (Y/N).” Peter chuckled.

“I haven’t,” She stated truthfully.

The sound of sputtering surprised her and she turned to King Edmund who was choking on water, his younger sister patting him on his back.

(Y/N) sent a death glare his way and he responded with another cough mixed with laughter.

“Come on, Ed.” Susan sighed, exasperated. “You should at least understand that she’s new to a lot of these things.”

“Oh, yeah.” Edmund held back a laugh. “I know all about that.”

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, do you now?”

“Mhm,” he hummed confidently. “You really are something special.”

Silence fell across the room as she gripped her fork tighter, all the while having a stare down with the Just King.

He took another sip from his silver goblet as the fauns disappeared from the toon. (Y/N) leaned forward and placed her elbows onto the table, a sarcastic smile on her face.

“Oh, then do tell, your Highness. Maybe you should also address how abnormally thick-headed you are.”

“Oh look!” Lucy exclaimed worriedly. “Eggs.”

The king retorted, “But you definitely outweigh that supposed thick-headedness of mine. It wouldn’t be fair to not address the queen of big heads.”

“Um, guys we should start-” began Peter, who has then interrupted by (Y/N).

“You’re inconsiderate and annoying, and honestly the only way that it could be worse is that you don’t know how to treat other people.”

“And earlier today?” He said, his eyes dark and the corners of his mouth drawn in a straight line.

(Y/N) stopped suddenly. She put aside her rage for a couple of seconds and remembered how he touched her. “What?”

He scoffed. “Nothing. Because apparently I don’t know how to treat other people.”

“Alright you two, stop it.” Susan demanded. “Whatever it is that is going on, you should discuss this later.”

“I’d rather not.” Edmund Pevensie said. “Definitely not.”


(Y/N) felt the day go by extremely quickly; her training and sitting in the library made her lose track of time. She was now sitting by the fireplace in her room with a cup of tea by her side, reading about the history of Narnia.

Of course, she knew her own history. But she didn’t necessarily know the history of Cair Paravel, and how the Pevensie siblings came around to becoming kings and queens of this country.

Sunset seemed like hours ago, and as soon as dinner was over she approached her chambers and hadn’t come out ever since. She definitely didn’t want to face ‘him’.

(Y/N) hadn’t seen King Edmund all day after breakfast what happened at breakfast, and dinner seemed much more quiet and peaceful. She did feel quite guilty about saying how he didn’t know how to treat others. But she also knew it was somewhat true.

(Y/N) closed the book and turned to her tea which, she noticed, had gone cold. She sighed and removed herself from her comfortable armchair with the teacup in her hand.

As she exited the room, she heard the sound of crickets and the coldness of the castle hit her hard. She shivered in her nightgown and hurried faster towards the closest kitchens of Cair Paravel, the candlelights along the wall guiding her.

Upon arriving, she noticed how large the kitchen was. With multiple benches made of marble and shelves filled with hundreds of cutlery and plates. As soon as she found a small pot, (Y/N) immediately began to prepare some herbal tea.

She began to wonder around the kitchen in search for biscuits and some sugar before she heard the door open. In a panic, she grabbed a small knife hidden under the sleeve of her nightgown and leaped towards the door silently. The figure who had entered had her knife pressed underneath throat. The swordswoman then discovered who it was…

“What are you doing here?” King Edmund whispered.

“What are you doing scaring me like that?”

“I asked you first.”

She let out a quiet sigh a removed the knife from his neck. “I was just making tea.”

“No, I mean what are you doing up so late?”

“What’s it your business?”

He moved towards a cupboard on the left, taking out something. He placed an intricately detailed teacup besides (Y/N)’s before jumping on the counter himself.

“You wouldn’t mind pouring me some, would you?” He inquired quietly.

(Y/N) still couldn’t see his face in the dim candlelight.

“Are there any more candles around here?” She asked.

“Yeah, in the cupboard beneath you.”

She found a small candelabra sitting in the cupboard with stubs of candles. It was just decent enough to last for a couple of hours. Not that they were doing to sit here for hours.

“You put sugar in your tea?” King Edmund asked.

(Y/N) nodded in response as she lit the candelabra. She placed it on a large counter in the centre of the room and noticed that the king was now off the bench and looking in a cupboard.

He was wearing a white shirt and a pair of breeches, and his hair was sticking up in all directions. (Y/N) noticed sweat marks on the back of his neck which plastered his hair down.

“Did you go for a run?” She said.

He turned around and looked at her calmly. He looked different; like he was off guard and tired. What happened to him? He doesn’t look like this usually.

“No,” he replied.

(Y/N) began to hear the whistling of the pot and rushed towards it, careful not to burn herself. She removed the kettle from the fire and took it out as the king asked her how much sugar she liked.

She didn’t imagine herself in this situation; pouring tea for someone she deeply disliked.

“I was reading.” (Y/N) answered his question from earlier in the dead silence as she stirred her tea.

King Edmund sipped his tea and began to break his biscuit into little pieces. “What were you reading?”

She shrugged. “Just some history.”


(Y/N) peered towards him. “And you, King Edmund.”

He looked at her with his dark eyes that somehow looked golden in the candle light. “I was sleeping.”

“You’re sweating and it’s freezing in here. You probably had some dream about training. I reckon you were doing terribly.

He chuckled softly as (Y/N) added, “I was definitely beating you, I could tell.”

She smiled softly and felt her stomach drop a bit. This wasn’t a conversation she imagined having. Was he messing around with her to get her off guard?

“No,” he said in response, snapping her out of her thoughts. “It was just some nightmare.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Listen, (Y/N).” He began, scratching the back of his neck. “I apologize for today; I’m not usually like that I was just worked up.”

“Is that an excuse for every insult you’ve thrown at me for the past three days?” She said angrily.

“No,” he stated. “But I apologize. I shouldn’t have said stuff like that.”

His tone of genuineness surprised her and she brought up what happened earlier. “And when you touched me?”


(Y/N) mentally screamed at her rapidly beating heart to calm down. “When you touched the bruise you gave me, why did you do it?”

He peered at her with kind eyes and placed his hands around his teacup, his long fingers intertwining. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

(Y/N) stayed silent, debating whether she should apologize to him or leave it be. But she spoke up: “I’m sorry for what I said today at dinner; I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“You were only saying what was on your mind.” He stated moving just an inch towards her. “It’s alright.”

(Y/N) looked away towards the candlelight and sipped her warm tea.

“Thank you, King Edmund.” She muttered almost under her breath.

She felt his eyes on her but she didn’t turn to him, instead she looked down and smiled. “You still have a big head though.”

“Like I don’t hear that everyday,” he laughed. He then placed his teacup on the counter and stated, “Call me Edmund.”

The Airport

Hi guys! So this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away also it became about Steve which I’ve never done so that’s cool I guess! New territory! I hope you guys enjoy. Happy Sunday! 

Warnings: none

Originally posted by luvinchris

I really hate airports. There seems to be people leaking out of every crevice, either bumping into me or rolling over my toes with their pull along suitcase. Grumpy people line the walls waiting to check their bags or buy their tickets or eat the overpriced food squished into plastic containers. 

Today, I am picking up my brother. He travels a lot for work so here I am, once again, watching the clock and waiting by the gate. My stomach is revolting, even when I have no plane to catch, ticket to buy or bag to check. That’s just how much I inherently hate everything about airports.

An overly cheery woman announces over the loud speakers that another flight has just arrived. In a few minutes, my brother will be walking off that plane and through customs, so I shouldn’t have to endure this introvert’s torture much longer. 

I walk over to gate and lean on the bars of the fence and observe the fresh mob making their way into the main lobby. People-watching is really the only thing that keeps me from ripping my hair out when I have to sit in an airport for any period of time. They say you see more sincere love in an airport than at a wedding. 

As I scan the room to pick out a stranger to spy on, one man quickly catches my eye. He’s tall and built, handsome. He has what seems to be shoulder length hair that’s tied back in a bun. Rogue strands pierce his light, perfect skin. His hands are shoved deep into the front pockets of his dark jeans and even through his bulky winter sweater, I can see he’s thick and sturdy, but not too buff for my taste. 

But I gather that my taste doesn’t matter. I can tell by the way he’s eagerly searching the crowd that he’s taken. Happily taken. Quite smitten actually. His hands are pressed into his pockets as if pushing his shoulders down will somehow make his neck grow and allow him to soar over the crowd to find the one he is looking for. His bright, excited eyes flutter from face to face, desperate to find the right one.

And when he does, his smile just about blinds me. 

“BuckybuckybuckybuckyBUCKY!” I see her erupt from the gate and run the entire distance of the lobby to him. Her bag is violently bumping against her thigh with every stride, her hair blowing behind her in waves, a grin taking over her pretty features. 

I can’t help but giggle at the way the man just stands his ground, bracing himself for the comparatively small body that was about to crash into his. Once she weaves through the mob of passengers, she throws her duffel on the floor with a plop and quite literally leaps into her man’s able arms. Her arms clasp around his neck and her legs around his waist, while he safely holds her tight around her middle. 

“Doll, I missed you.”

I’m surprised to hear his soft voice from where I was standing. He is so sincere, his low song to her almost cracked. I’m truly amazed at how they just enjoy each others’ presence, completely able to ignore the hustle and bustle around them. 

Her face is now safe inside the crook of his neck and through a mess of his and her hair, I see his eyes are closed. Suddenly, her face emerges from his shoulder and reveals a sweet grin. After quickly looking him over, she attaches her lips to his in a simple kiss. Slow and hardly moving, they are glued to each other.

I look around to see that I’m not the only one watching the two. They couldn’t care less about the world spinning around them because they were at its center.

I have to divert my eyes because I feel like I’m intruding on them. But also, if I watch any more I was afraid my smile would grow too large and actually split my face. As soon as I look away, I hear a man beside me chuckling. 

“Obnoxious, aren’t they?”

“Nah, they’re in love. It’s sweet.”

“It’s sweet for about a week and then it gets annoying.”

I giggle and finally turn to see Captain America standing next to me. My smile falls to awe as I take him in. The thing that they say about him looking like a dorito was absolutely true, I can’t decide if he’s thick or lean. Either way this man was sculpted by the gods. And he shows it off too, his shirt has to be two sizes too small.

But his eyes are even more lovely in real life. Bright blue and smiling, easy to get lost in. And lost I am until I realize the awkward silence is mine to fill.

“Maybe. But I’m sure they’ll say the same thing about you someday.”

“I can only hope so.”

Now I have nowhere to look. If I look at him I would surely be crushed by his muscles or drowned in his eyes, and if I look at the couple who were still kissing in the middle of everything I would surely die of cuteness. Well, the floor will do.

“And um, thanks, for um,” I sweep a gesture down his body, from his shoulders to his feet, “what you do. Savin’ our asses,” I add for an explanation. 

He chuckles, “It’s a pleasure to save the ass of a beautiful girl like you.”

I bit my lip to hide my smile. I was not expecting that from America’s Golden Boy. Thank god I am saved by some of my brother’s coworkers walking through the lobby. 

“Well, I have to go find my brother.” I notice a spark glisten in his eye when I say my brother and not my boyfriend. “It was nice to meet you, Captain America.”

“Steve,” he corrected. 

“Steve,” I repeat, kicking my brow at him. I spin and walk to the gate, only looking over my shoulder when I hear Steve holler, “Hey, do you ever go to Molly’s?”

“Occasionally!” I shouted over my shoulder. 

Suddenly, he’s right behind me, his voice ghosting over my neck, his fingers resting gently on my right hip. “Meet me there at 8?”

Startled, I turn on my toes and end up face to face with his large protruding chest. I tilt my chin up and whisper “okay” before I had the chance to get lost in his eyes again.

“See you there,” he declares with a nod. I stand there before him, waiting for him to make his exit but it doesn’t seem like he wants to. Though I don’t exactly want to say goodbye just yet either, I hear my brother calling me. 

I jog over to him and take one of his bags off his shoulder, while slinking my arm through his. ”Hey bro. How was the flight?”

“It was good. Exhausting though. Hope you didn’t wait too long.”

“No not at all. You’ll never guess who I was talking to.”


TAG LIST (IT’S OPEN!)@usannika @whatsbetterthanfantasy @dontstopwiththelyin @the-renaissance @anitavalija @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @hip5t3r-m3rmaaidd-biitchhh @annieluc @aenna-4 @babiedeer @heismyhunter @waikimikey @mizzzpink @kennadance14 @decemberftw @lady-thor-foster @feelmyroarrrr @dontyouforgetaboutme @lillian-paige @24hoursinaday @midnightloverslie @barnesandnoble13 @earinafae @chameerah @axelinchen @canumoveyourseatup-no @shieldagentofthemonth

Guarantee you the same people defending the cop who shot at the kids in Anaheim today also defended George Zimmerman killing Trayvon Martin.

Cop or not, you don’t attack children. Those kids tried to protect their friend and this “cop” who is suppose to calm the situation makes it worse. And also what situation anyway? Stepping over some fucking grass? Gimme a break.

People saying he was “defending himself ” or “defending his property” or acted in “self defense” you’ve clearly never experienced how these guys can intimidate you. Especially towards minorities. So of course most of the apologists in this situation are white, pro Trump, or both.

It’s bad enough police are killing minorities. When they attack children, especially ones who aren’t white, that’s what I don’t understand how people can be ok with that.

Tiny and quick animation of my boy Teldryn I did at school today while my teacher wasn’t looking B) Since it was mostly practice I don’t think I’ll finish this, but I hope I will

Oikawa’s Predicament

A/N: Haikyuu!! (iwaoi, lee Oikawa) -  5. “Did…I…do something wrong?” - Also part of the speedwriting batch for my 1 year blog anniversary. Riiiip Oikawa!

Summary: Oikawa arrives late to his planned drinking night with his boyfriend and buddies. They don’t plan to let him go unpunished.

Word Count: 1307

“Hiya guys! What’s uuup?” Oikawa loudly entered the bar and joined his boyfriend Iwaizumi, and their double date- buddies Matsukawa and Hanamaki at the reserved table for their regular drink together. 

“Did…I…do something wrong?” he asked when they didn’t say anything but just shared certain glances with each other. Oikawa looked at each of them and then at the glasses they already almost finished.

“Apart from being late one hour and 47 minutes, what did he do wrong guys?” Iwaizumi calmly asked Hanamaki and Matsukawa, and Oikawa eep’ed.

“What? We said at 9 right? I’m early!” he asked, looking at all of them in shock. Crap. Normally he and Iwaizumi went together since he’d usually stay at his place (which was the plan for tonight too), and they always went together so not he but Iwaizumi was the one to keep track of time. 

Today was a little bit different since he promised to buy Takeru dinner to celebrate the sweet boy passed his school tests. After that he’d join the rest, which he thought was at 9. Oops. So it was supposed to be at 7? Weeeird!

“I’m sorryyyy guys!” he whined when none of them replied but continued to drink from what most likely were their second or third drinks already, considering how long they had been here without him.

“He also never answers his phone. It’s annoying, why would he have a phone?” Matsukawa commented with a dramatic sigh.

“I feel sorry for Hajime,” Hanamaki said, and Iwaizumi even nodded at this.

“Guys! Iwa-chan, I’m sorry okay? I’ll buy you all drinks.” Oikawa tried to get the waiter’s attention while the others continued, without even addressing him directly.

“And now he tries to solve things with money. What a dick,” Matsukawa added, and Oikawa lunged over the table and tried to wave his hands in front of their faces to get their attention.

“Hellooo! I said I’m sorry! Iwa-chaaan!” Returning to Iwaizumi next to him, Oikawa whined and grabbed his arm, pulling at him like a little kid.

“Maybe we should just tickle him as a punishment for being an ass,” Iwaizumi said, and this made Oikawa let go of him immediately, tensing up as he let out one squeaky “eeeeheh!?”.

“Ah right, we know how ticklish he is right?” Hanamaki probed Matsukawa’s arm with his elbow, and they chuckled.

“Best reactions are when you tickle his tummy and sides. With squeezing moves,” Iwaizumi said, making the motions with his hands, and Oikawa cringed.

“No what about when you do this to his feet?” Hanamaki wiggled his fingers in the worst way possible, very clear for Oikawa to see, and he cringed more.

“Guys. I’m right here!” he whispered loudly, growing very uncomfortable with where this was going.

“Don’t forget his back. I’d do thiiis and that..” Matsukawa joined in tickling the air, showing how he would often scribble his fingers all over Oikawa’s back, and Oikawa could almost feel their fingers already.

Keep reading

Helpless (Philip x Reader)


Request- “May I request a Philip x reader with 369, 294, and 231? It doesn’t have to be too risqué if it’s uncomfortable…(why do I still feel awkward when requesting stuff)”

“What about an AU where y/n is Jeffersons daughter but her and Phillip are together do they have to sneak around? Love your work x” 

A/N- **I was partway through writing the first request when I realized it could also fit pretty well with the second one, so imma combine them! Yay(?)!

369- “Let’s strip down to our socks”

294- “You weren’t supposed to hear that…”

231- “No one needs to know”

Words- 1,356

It was afternoon, and you were walking from your house to one of the local grocers. 

“Hey little lady!” someone guy yelled and winked at you. You rolled your eyes and kept walking. A few strides and another voice was yelling “compliments” at you.  You ignored them like usual and kept walking. Eventually, one boy blocked your path. God, they were worse than usual today. 

“Hey there miss.” He smirked at you. “Where are you headed?” 

“Why is that any of your business, sir?” 

“It just seems odd for a girl to be walking all by herself like this.” he said, taking a step towards you.

“Well, I’m perfectly capable of walking.” You took step to the left to try and walk around him, but he moved in front of you. 

“Wouldn’t like it better if someone was accompanying you?” He kept walking closer to you. 

“As a matter of fact, someone is.” a voice said behind you. You turned in time to see Philip Hamilton flash you a smile. You rolled your eyes. 

“What is she dating you or something?” the man said with disgust in his voice. 

“Well, you certainly aren’t. If I were you, I probably run out of here. Someone could get hurt.” Philip stared the other man down. He looked at Philip for a moment then spat on the ground and walked away. You detached yourself from Philip. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

“Of course I’m okay, Philip! I could have handled that.” You started walking in the direction of the store again. 

“What, no thank you?” Philip caught up to you. 

“Go away, Philip.” 

“C’mon Y/N.” Philip grinned and you and you smiled back a little. Only a little though. And you frowned at him right away. “Hey, whadaya say now that that creep is gone, you and I head back to my place and strip down to our socks?” 

You gasped at his vulgarity. He just smirked at you. You started walking faster.

“Philip, you’re just as bad as the other guys!” you said. 

“But it’s different because our families know each other. We grew up together. We’re like childhood sweathearts!” 

“Yeah, and our families hate each other.”

“I don’t hate you.” Philip mumbled. 

“Well you should.” You arrived at the front of the store. “Goodbye, Philip. And if you try to follow me into this store, I swear to god I will make sure your father finds out you’ve been hitting on Thomas Jefferson’s daughter.”

“Oh look! There’s Philip!” your friend shrieked. Involuntarily your eyes searched across the crowded ballroom until you saw him. He was laughing and swaying with his arms around another girl. Not another girl! Just a girl. Just some girl. 

“So what?” you said, turning your attention to one of the intricate golden decorations hanging from the wall you were standing by. You took a long sip from the wine in your hand. You had attended a ball put on by the president at your father’s insisting. He promised he buy you a new ballgown for it if you agreed to go, so you couldn’t say no, plus it made him happy, and you loved it when your father was happy since he always seemed so stressed. Who’s fault was that? Oh yeah, Philip Hamilton’s father. 

“So what? Y/N! He’s the cutest guy in New York!” she squealed. You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, if you’re into freckles that make him look six.” 

“You would know.” she said into her glass, before taking a sip. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You glared at her. 

“Y/N please. Every girl in Albany knows Philip’s had a crush on you since puberty.” 

“That is not true. He just like to make me mad. He’s just like his father. Philip would never actually court me.” You searched the dance floor for him again, but mentally chastised yourself and turned back to your friend. 

“But what if he did ask to court you? Would you say yes?” Your friend had a twinkle in her eye that worried you. 

“He’s Alexa-”

“If he wasn’t Alexander Hamilton’s son, or if your fathers were civil, would you?”

You found your father in the crowd and looked at him thoughtfully. 

“I mean…Philip’s kind of a wild card isn’t? He’s reckless.” you turned back to your friend, who snorted loudly. 

“And you aren’t?” 

“Fair point.” You stared at the ground. “You’re right…he is attractive, and he’s pretty funny too. Plus, we have known each other practically our whole lives.” You stepped closer to your friend and lowered your voice. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.” 

“Really?” a voice, for the second time that week, spoke unwarranted from behind you. Your face fell. You turned around to see Philip, dressed to the nines, arms crossed, smug look on his face. 

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.” you said, horrified. 

“But I did hear it.” he stepped towards you. “In fact, I kinda want you to say it again. What was that she said?” He looked past you at your friend, whose expression was unreadable. “Something like, ‘I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about it”, right?” He grin grew wider. Something about it was different though. It wasn’t just a smirk or a look of confidence. He also seemed genuinely happy. Oh god, you really needed to get out of here. There were people all around you, and it was hard to move, but you decided to make a break for it anyway. 

You picked up the heavy skirts of your dress and ran past Philip to the large staircase. You took a turn down a dark hallway of the Washington’s home and leaned against a heavy wooden door, trying to catch your breath. You knelt down and your skirts flowed all around you. You couldn’t believe Philip had just heard that! After so many years of pushing down those little thoughts you had every time he smiled at you like you were something special. If you father found out you had any time of feelings for Philip besides hatred….you didn’t know how he would react, but it wouldn’t be good. 

You heard heavy footsteps and looked to see Philip come around the corner. 

“Y/N.” he breathed with a smile, and then, as if fully realizing that you were on the floor, he rushed over to you. He knelt down next you. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” you spat and turned your head away from him.

“Y/N…” his voice sounded broken. “Y/N, it was never just fun for me, you know? I was never playing around or just trying to make you mad.” You stood up, fully intending to walk away from him, but he stood up and well and trapped you with an arm on either side of the door. “No, Y/N, I need you to hear this.” He looked around and then pushed the door open. You both stumbled in. A spare bedroom. Great. 

“Look at me Y/N.” You reluctantly met his eyes. Your heart was beating out of your chest. “Y/N, I’m not playing around, I find you completely compelling and intoxicating.”

“It’s all physical Philip.” Your voice was shakier than usual. 

Philip looked down at you and smiled. “Okay, a part of it is physical definitely yes. You’re beautiful Y/N.” You looked away from him. He took your hands in his. You resisted the instinct to pull them away and faced him again. “But that’s not all. You’re independent and tough. You’re smart, you’re funny, and I’ve known you long enough to know how caring you can be. You mean a lot to me.” He started leaning towards you. You were caught up in his eyes. 

“Philip…” you breathed. He placed a hand on your face. “Philip I-I said under different circumstances.” You clenched your hands in your dress to keep them from touching him like they so desperately wanted to. His grip on your waist tightened. Philip leaned down and placed several light kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes. He brought his lips close to your ear. 

“No one needs to know.” he whispered.

Rivals: Chapter One (Alexander Hamilton x Reader)

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x Reader, reader with no gender prefrence

Warnings: Implied smut. If school is a trigger then you better watch out

Setting: Modern, High School

Summary: Alexander Hamilton challenges Thomas Jefferson to see who can get closest to the lead role in the school musical. Thomas Jefferson is the readers best friend and helps him pick out a monologue and song, but then the reader realizes that Alex is just a smol babe and things get good. 

Ships and requests are open!!!!! Please leave suggestions in my inbox!


P.S. There is a hidden Jefferson meme in this story so comment if you see it heheheh


“No way! I could rock tights better than you any day!!”

Oh god Tom, not again.

The usual Tuesday morning, Jefferson getting in a yelling fight before first period starts. You were always the one to pull him away. It was tiring being the best friend of Thomas Jefferson.

“Well, let’s see then! We will both try out for the lead in the school musical, and whoever gets closest to the role wins. Then we will see who really wears the tights in this feud.”

Alexander Hamilton. The usual one to pick a fight with Thomas. You didn’t know him very well besides the fact that he was your best friends rival, and he sits behind you in history class. Nonetheless, you had to admit you kinda had the hots for him.

“Okay, okay, break it up. The bell is going to ring soon.” You tried to usher Thomas away before he could get a word in, but before you could grab him, he shouted, “You’re on Hamilton!!”

You walked into first period, practically dragging Thomas in, steam coming out of his ears. 

“I hate that arrogant prick so much. I wish I could wipe that smug smile off of his face. Mon chéri, thank you for butting in before I could do anything stupid.”

Ever since he came back from France, Tom gave you the nicest nicknames such as mon ami, mon chéri, and mon chaton. You weren’t quite sure what they meant, but you secretly found them adorable.

“But you did something stupid. You agreed to try out for the school musical, even though you have zero experience with theatre.” Thomas knew were a theatre enthusiast who had been in the majority of school productions, and you already knew the question was coming.

“Will you please help me and possibly try out with me? It would make me feel loads better.”

You sighed and cracked open your trig textbook. “Of course. We can start rehearsing after school today.” He gave you a toothy smile and proceeded to his seat.


Fifth period rolls around. History was your favorite subject, especially when you were studying your favorite time period, the birth of America.

You strolled into the classroom to see Mr. Washington and Alexander in a silent debate about the debt plan established by the first secretary of treasury. Why was he so passionate about a debt plan



After Mr. Washington was finished with the lecture, You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to meet a pair of dark eyes.

“So what is it with you and Jefferson?”

“Hamilton, I could ask you the same question.”

“Well, me and Thomas never really got along. I used to be the big man on campus, and everyone adored me. All the teachers loved me, especially my English and History teachers. Until Jefferson came around. He astonished History teachers with his knowledge and opinions of french history, and he made English teachers swoon with his many tongues. Also, he says I dress like the pits of fashion when hes the one in that damn fuchsia coat and bow tie-”

Watch it. That’s my best friend.”

He held his hands up as a form of surrender. “Now it’s your turn. What is it with you and Jefferson?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean…”

“Come on, (Y/N). Are you dating?”

“No, I’m just the one who tries to keep him from making stupid decisions and getting in fights.”

“As you saw from this morning, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

“True… So what about you Hamilton? Are you seeing anyone?”

Why did I ask that. Why did I ask that.

His eyes seemed to get brighter when you asked that question and his cheeks grew a light shade of pink. He held back a smile and looked down at his hands. “No.” He looked back at you and his smile broke loose. Your heart fluttered at the sight of it. You gave him a light smile and turned back around to your books. Snap out of it. This is your best friends rival.



“Thomas, are you going to eat that whole damn bowl of macaroni??”

“Fllflflff flff lflfff!”

“You know I can’t understand you when your mouth is full.”

“Flf.” He pouted and crossed his arms. He finally managed to swallow the outrageous amount of macaroni and cheese dripping from his mouth. Ew.

“What are we going to do for my monologue and song?”

“Well I was thinking, and this monologue from Funny Girl would be perfect for you. Give it a read.”


“How about… this one!”

“No, I don’t really like it.”

It was a tedious process, but 3 hours later you and Thomas had finally picked out and rehearsed both his song and monologue. He managed to step on his cat and break a lamp in the process. (His cat was okay by the way.) You sat down on his couch and turned on the television, but all you could think about was Alexander. His eyes didn’t seem to have depth until today. You never see brown eyes the same again until you fall in love with a pair of them. WAIT. Did I just say that I LOVED Alexander Hamilton? 

You felt a buzz in your pocket.

From: Alex

Hey. So I was thinking a lot, and I would love to get to know you more. If you wanted to, we could “study” together? Like a date? You are Jefferson’s best friend and I understand if it’s too weird but.. I just really want to know you on a basis where you don’t always call me Hamilton. Send me your thoughts. <3

Your stomach did back flips when you saw this message.

To: Alex

I would love to! Friday after school works for me :)

From: Alex

Great! See you then!

You locked your phone and a smile began to tug on your lips.

“What’s got you in such a good mood, mon chéri?

“Don’t worry about it.”


Wednesday and Thursday pass. You help Thomas everyday after school and Alexander is having more frequent conversations with you. He even introduces you to his squad, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, And Marquis de Lafayette. Hercules is unusually tall and broad for a junior in high school, Lafayette’s French accent is so thick you couldn’t understand him at first, and John Laurens has the biggest obsession with turtles. Literally. He has a shirt with turtles on it and his phone case is also a turtle. It was adorable. You hit it off with Hamilsquad immediately.

Friday rolls around and you’re in 7th period with Thomas and James Madison when the school day finally ends.

“I’ll see you guys later!” you turn away from them and before you could start walking away, Thomas grabs your arm.

“Woah, where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to help me with lines today.” He let go of your arm.

“I’m going to study, and we have been going at this since Tuesday, can we just take a break?”

“Study…? You never study alone.”

You were already out the door. Before he could catch you, you slipped into the crowded hall and vanished.  Yeah… you never told Thomas about the little soiree you arranged with Alex. But he would understand. It’s just a little, innocent date, right?


SLAM. Alexander pins your hands above your head and pushes you up against the wall. He lets go of your wrists and his hands find a way to your sides. His lips are hungrily kissing your own. He tasted like coffee and peppermint. In a flash his lips are on your neck. “A-alex…” 

“That’s it baby. Say it just like that.”

“Make me. Make me say it louder.”

He parted from your neck and brought your hips to his. “Challenge accepted.”


Hope you liked it! I’ll be posting Chapter 2 soon!


Adrinette Month Day Four

Hey guys, here’s today prompt Baking! Also, I feel like I should apologize for drawing Adrinette this month. I saw the prompts going up back in December (or they were being asked for??) and was finishing up Metamorphosis so I could draw for it, but as many people have been pointing out, it’s supposed to be Femslash February… and Adrinette Month was in April last year. I didn’t participate, but I did participate in the more recent Adrinette Week. I’ll draw some Femslash for the month when I have the time, but I am going to finish with Adrinette because I’ll be busy with Metamorphosis again come April. The next challenge I take will probably be Ladynoir… whichever month that appears, but yup.

For now, cookie time.

Behind the Walls (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Professor!Bucky X Reader

Words: 1,775

Warnings: None yet…except talk about school!

Summary: You are currently getting your PhD in Art History, your dissertation being about The Power of Nudity in Art. Your adviser recommends you switch from being her TA to another professor because she feels her health is declining and wants you to get the best help/advice from someone new. She recommends Dr. James Barnes and believes he will be of great help to you. Things don’t turn out as you plan.

A/N: This is born out of my “admiration” for Bucky’s character!!! I am also writing this because I have this fantasy that always involves the opposite individual being a Professor! I honestly don’t know why I get turned on by the “Professor” figure. Having said that, I am a Sapiosexual meaning I am attracted to intelligence, and since I am yet to meet an intelligent person, I think I am mostly attracted to professors (which is honestly not a healthy thing…believe me). For now, this will just be fluff and angst, but will definitely include smut in later chapters. A bit of a slow build. Professor!Bucky has a metal arm in this one because I am kinky as shit.
Also, picture was made by @0-ves-0
Art is amazing!!

Keep reading