free for all walls

Fire (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Request! 🙌🏽

A/N: Hey y'all! This was sent in by the lovely anon who requested some hardcore angry sex. I kinda changed it up a lil bit because the original one i wrote I lost cuz I didn’t save it and I couldn’t get on tumblr to re look at the request! 😭 but I hope you like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤

Request: I’m begging you, full out on my knees, to make a smutty bucky one-shot that is just total hate sex. Like him and the reader just dont get along, she thinks hes too brooding and a total try hard, and he thinks shes a pampered bitch. and then one night when theyre fighting just BAM! hate sex but then they realize they actually like each other but none of them will admit it ;)) (there can be a part two, if you want, maybe,) I love your writing


“Are you fucking serious, Barnes?” you spat as you both entered the quinjet.

This was the third time in the last month he’s jeopardized a mission. The last two were purely out of spite, just to get a reaction out of you. But this time, he almost got you killed as well. To say the both of you disliked each other was a serious understatement. You fucking despised each other with a fiery passion and everyone knew it. You two were polar opposites.

When Bucky got into his little mood swings, he expected you to just shut your mouth and take it. After all, that’s what he was used to with Steve. But you weren’t anything like Steve. Not at all. You were extremely outspoken, you spoke your mind whenever and however you wanted. You weren’t anybody’s trained monkey, especially not his. So of course, when he realized you had zero amount of chill in you, all it did was piss him off even more and fuel the fire between you two.

“For fucks sake, Y/N,” he spat back just as bitterly. “Just shut your mouth for once!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. You honestly didn’t understand his logic. So, you were supposed to just sit quiet while he screwed this entire operation up? No fucking way.

“I know you’re probably used to getting your way,” you bickered, sitting in the pilot seat and flicking on the many switches. “But I’m not everybody else.”

All though you couldn’t see him, you could tell your words hit home. The subtle rumbling of the quinjet was the only audible thing as it lifted from the ground. You, being the pilot and all, kept your focus on keeping the jet in the air. But all that went to shit as soon as you heard him say something under his breath.

“Excuse me?” you spun around in the chair.

“I said you really need to get laid. That’s probably why you’re such a bitch all the time.”

You usually had excellent composure when it came to problematic people like him, but that was your last straw. Standing up, you walked over towards him and smacked him straight across the face.

His head jolted to the side from the force. Slowly, you could see a little red handprint right where the spot was.His eyes widened at first and you immediately regretted hitting him. Reality started hitting you like a brick wall. Bucky was twice your size, not in height though. You were only two or three inches shorter, but when it came to muscle mass, he was a fucking beast.
And you just had to go and awaken it, didn’t you?

“I-I’m sorry!” you squeaked, backing away from him slowly.

He was completely silent, and that sent chills down your spine. He stepped forward, stalking towards you. His blue eyes were much darker than before, which wasn’t a good sign at all. Oh god, what if you somehow managed to send him straight into Winter Soldier mode? If that happened, there was no way on earth you’d be able to fight him off.

Your instincts finally kicked in, screaming at you to run towards the rear of the jet, which held most of the weaponry. It wasn’t the brightest idea but what else was there? You were in midair! Without another thought, you tried to slip past him.

And boy were you wrong.

With ease, Bucky’s metal and wrapped around your throat and slammed you into the wall of the quinjet. You let out a frightened squeak. He placed his flesh hand around your chin harshly, digging into the flesh. You kicked your legs, trying to at least knee him in the crotch. Nat always said that was the best defense in those situations.

Before you could do it, you felt Bucky’s lips on yours.

You went completely frozen.

You expected to be stabbed to death, certainly not this. As fucked up as it was, you couldn’t help but acknowledge how nice his lips felt against your trembling ones. His lips moved against yours expertly, his tongue running along your bottom lip. You didn’t mean to, but a small moan escaped your lips. He pressed his body into yours, easing himself between your legs.

It’s as if he could tell you were enjoying yourself. He pulled away far too soon, smirking down at your smaller self with triumph. Oh, you hated him so much.

“See?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “You’re already a much more pleasant person and we’ve only gotten to first base.”
You wiggled in his grasp, earning nothing but an amused chuckle from him. As humiliating as it was, you were so turned on. You could feel the wetness inside your cat suit and you desperately wished it would go away.

“I hate you,” you frowned, much to Bucky’s dismay.

“I don’t hate you, Y/N.” he says, leaning in between your legs and pressing kisses along your throat. You gasped, throwing your head back. “I dislike you sometimes,” He sucked harshly on the piece of flesh just below your ear, earning a cry of pleasure from you.

“But. I. Don’t. Fucking. Hate. You.” he thrusted his hips against yours after each word, causing your breaths to stutter.

With a small, submissive moan, you spread your legs wider for him. You could feel him grin into your neck. He was enjoying this so much. With another roll of his hips, you felt your orgasm growing nearer. You let out little pants, moving your hips against his much harder. Bucky’s erection pressed against your heat, giving you a sweet mental image of how big he was.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your orgasm neared. “Please…I’m…I’m gonna-“

The next thing you know, Bucky’s hand released its grip on your throat. Instead, his hand went straight for your ponytail, twisting it painfully. You let out cry, reaching your hands behind your head to free yourself. He practically dragged you away from the wall, all the way until you were facing the large window of the quinjet windshield.

Bucky’s flesh hand slid down to your lower back and gave you a harsh push. Losing your balance, you felt your front collide with the dashboard, your suit pressing against the many buttons. You winced at the feeling of the buttons pressing into your torso. There was no doubt, you were going to have a dozen little triangular shaped bruises tomorrow.

Bucky’s hand gripped the zipper of your suit and slowly tugged it down. You felt the material separate down your body, leaving you exposed. His hand traced down your spine gently, taking in the feel of your feverish skin. With a groan, you rocked your behind back into his crotch. He hissed, grabbing the unzipped material and pulling it from your body, leaving you in only your underwear.

“Fuck…” you heard him whisper under his breath. His hand traced the curve of your ass gently, feeling the soft skin in his hands. He pinched it harshly, earning a cry from you. Bucky traced the waistband of your underwear, pulling it back from your body and snapping it back onto your skin.

“Bucky,” you moaned. “Please fuck me.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded anymore. You wanted him inside you so fucking bad and all he did was tease you. It was so unfair.

“You gotta ask nicely, sweetheart.” He cooed, hooking his finger underneath the waist band of your underwear and tugging them down your thighs. You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone and the shuffling of his pants coming off. You saw his jacket and shirt being tossed onto the pilot chair near you.

“Please, Bucky,” you tried to sound as innocent as possible. “Please fuck me hard. I need it so bad. Please…sir.”

His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips at the last word.

You were in for it now.

Without any warning, he slammed his hips into yours, his cock entering you forcefully. You let out a scream that echoed throughout the quinjet. Bucky fucked you hard and fast, his metal hand twisted into your hair. Your body jolted forward with each thrust, your nipples brushing against the many buttons beneath you.

“Oh my go-o-o-od!” you moaned, your voice stuttering with each thrust. Bucky nudged his foot with your left one, forcing your legs apart even further. You could feel each and every inch of him inside you, burying himself into your heat deeper and deeper. You placed your hands on the dashboard for support.

“You like that, you little bitch?” he asked, landing a smack onto your behind. You nodded your head furiously. He gave you another smack, this one harder than the last.

“Yes, sir!” You cried out, clenching around his cock. “I love it so fucking much!”

He threw his head back at the feeling, letting out a string of Russian curses. You didn’t understand what he said, but it was still probably the hottest thing you’ve seen. The way his abs flexed each time he crashed into you sent a wave of arousal over you.
For the second time, you felt your orgasm creeping up. You were so fucking close, so close. You just needed it a little bit harder.

Your thighs began to tremble from the approaching euphoria; your eyes closed on their own accord. You could feel your juices on Bucky’s thighs, dripping down your own onto the ground. The sounds that escaped your mouth were so fucking dirty and borderline pornographic, but it only seemed to please Bucky even more.

With a scream of his name, you came on Bucky’s cock. Your pussy tightened around him, milking him into his own release. Bucky fell against your back, his hips stuttering as he neared his own finish. You whimpered, feeling the aftershocks of his thrusts. You could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. You reached your hand behind you, slipping it between the two of you and began massaging his balls.
And that was it for him.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he shouted into your shoulder, his hips slamming into yours a final time. You could feel his come coat your walls, filling you up. You wiggle from underneath him, accidentally clenching around his cock. His let out a groan, his fingers digging into your hips.

“I think my hips are broken.” You whisper, peering over your shoulder. All jokes aside, you could already feel the soreness building in your hip area. Jesus, you won’t be able to sit down for at least a few days. Damn Bucky and his super soldier cock.

“I don’t hate you,” he admitted softly into your shoulder, completely ignoring your previous statement. Your eyes widened. “I never really did dislike you, either.”

You turned your head to the side. “Then why do you treat me like you do?” you ask, staring at the wall of the quinjet. This was more than just shocking. You were actually convinced that he hated you with his entire being. So what was going on?

“I’m not exactly good at expressing love correctly,” he confessed, letting out a small laugh. But you could tell there was no humor behind it.

“Love?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised.

“I love you, Y/N,” he shifted so that he was right by your ear now. “I have for a while now.”

You couldn’t fight the grin that spread on your face even if you wanted to.

You sigh dramatically. “I guess I kinda, sorta, maybe love you, too. But only if you promise to do this every time we fight.”

He let out a laugh, sending vibrations down your spine.

“You got it, doll.”

-FIN ❤

(I can’t look at the quinjet the same now lol!) ❤

Vamps revamped

Hello, guys! :))) I just finished working on this set and ready to share! The organ (piano in disguise) is functional as well as the radiator. The awesome grungy decals you`ll find in the very beginning of deco/wall section since they are all free. My personal favorite is “the lush ivy” (in the first row on the preview pic), I like it so much better than M&G one! You`ll see!

That`s it! Have fun! :D And let me know if you have any questions!

Credit: EA, Maxis, Sims 4 Studio

Adults: I’m done with all of these terrible children cartoons! They’re all bullshit!! I want a cartoon that’s smart and doesn’t talk down to its audience

Also adults: These children cartoons are too adult and dark for children! I’d rather them watch something more appropriate for their age

The Consulting Artist

Paring: Sherlock Holmes/Reader

Tags: Shy Reader, Artist Reader, Artist Sherlock, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Painting, Sherlock is mean to Meena, Sherlock is mean to mostly everyone but this is no exception

Summary: Reader is signed up for art classes with a class-A asshole artist named Mr Sherlock Holmes.

Word Count: 910

Posting Date:  2016-05-19

Current Date: 2017-05-08

Originally posted by trechos-of-books

He was apparently the best and worst at what he did. You could believe the gossip though; it wasn’t vicious at all. He was tall, proud, and frowned more than he spoke words of guidance. Mr Sherlock Holmes, one of the greatest artists of this century, was an asshole - a talented asshole, which you had signed yourself up to have lessons with. With other people!

Why? You demanded yourself. You were an introvert, as reserved as they possibly could come. And watching Mr Holmes completely deconstruct Sally Donovan’s and Anderson’s canvases as ‘sloppy’ and 'lacked technique’ and then you overheard him at Meena’s painting, “What in hell’s name are you supposedly painting, a cow?”

“No sir, it’s uh, a cat - my cat,” Meena stuttered. You wanted to see the cow/cat and support her, but instead, you focused on your tragic painting.

Tragic it was. You’d started painting your late grandmother from memory, her crinkled skin filled with shadow, but then realised once you had reached the bust size that your paint had somehow turned too runny (you suspected the giggling boy with the Irish accent in front of you for that one) and it had begun dripping like roots from a tree.

So, you considered your prospects; running out of the gallery before the critical Mr Holmes caught sight of you, scraping the canvas for another…or transforming the 'root’ like line of drips into your family tree.

“Shut up Anderson,” reprimanded Mr Holmes. His voice almost ran straight through you, like a ghost - and you made up your mind. Family tree it was.

You’d just finished panting Uncle Uberto and Aunt Harriet when you heard a huff behind you.

Scared, you didn’t turn to acknowledge him. Your system raced with fear of judgement instead of blood and oxygen for a moment and then after a beat, stated, “You’ve not been this pensive with the others, Mr Holmes.”

He made a noise in his throat, a noise which meant I know that, and why are you asking stupid questions somehow at once.

But then all he said was:

“Are you using a reference picture for any of these?”

Defly you shook your head. “I’m just remembering, Mr Holmes…I left their pictures in my car.” Uncomfortable at the tension between the grumpy teacher and you, you added, “I was going to use them.”

Mr Holmes made that noise again. “Alright.” He nodded, and was off to frown at the mischievous Irish boy who had started flinging paint across the gallery.

You let out the breath you’d been keeping in unwarranted and wondered what had just happened. Was that remark almost a compliment? You glanced to your canvas to question if it were - compared to Meena’s now branded cow cat, it was pretty decent.

After that, your brush seemed to fly across the canvas, and by the end of the day’s session with the dreaded yet brilliant Mr Sherlock Holmes, your family portrait was nearly done; almost all the three generations and their children were painted, and you couldn’t help but be a tad proud of it.

“These works will be hanging up in here for the public’s further judgement in a week’s time,” Mr Holmes boomed once the clock read four o'clock on the wall at the front. “You’re all free to leave.”

As the other art students fled the gallery, you overheard their comments of “I’m glad that’s over!” and “I won’t let mum sign me up for anymore of those classes” and “what a prick!”. Whilst everyone dashed out, you took your time to clean up your brushes and gather your things.

“You’re still here?”

You turned to see Mr Holmes bent over a pile of paperwork on a desk at the front, frowning.

“Pardon?” You wondered.

“You’re still here,” he repeated, this time stating the fact rather than questioning it. “Nobody really stays afterwards.”

“I - I noticed you didn’t critique me like the other kids, and I kind of wanted to ask why."You shrugged, gesturing to the still laid out plastic mats that were spattered with colour and footprints, "and then I sort of felt sorry for you having to clean up this mess - I sort of assumed you cleaned this mess up, I mean.”

Mr Holmes cleared his throat. “You don’t need to,” he spoke, “Isn’t there someone waiting to pick you up?”

You shook your head, “No, sir, I’m taking the tube home - you know, there’s always a train after the next - and yeah.”

A silence followed you, and turning awkwardly to the mess, began to move the easels to the side, and lifting the paint mat. You worked quickly, gathering the dumped paint brushes and putting the pallets together to wash.

“Allow me,” you heard in your ear. “…”

You felt a blush course your cheeks and yielded the pile in your arms to your art teacher. “It’s uh, _______. _________ ________.”

“Well, ______, you’ve done well.” Mr Holmes commended.

“With the cleaning or the paint, Mr Holmes?” You laughed nervously, tucking a flyaway strand of (h/c) (h/l) behind an ear.

“Everything,” he smiled.

You knew that was more than a compliment; he was a man who criticised the smallest of details and ignored everything he didn’t care for.

“Th-thank you, sir,” you smiled.

“Please, call me Sherlock,” he corrected, “and would you like to come out for coffee with me sometime?”

You beamed. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

Through time and space (part 3)

Part one, part two

→ → → → → → → → → → → → → → → → ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ←
“Right then, Rose Tyler and Y/N Winchester, you tell me. Where do you want to go? Backwards or forwards in time. It’s your choice. What’s it going to be?” The Doctor says with a cocky smirk.

“Forwards.” Both you and Rose reply. The Doctor then asks how far forward and Rose goes with 100 years.

“Come on Rose, be a little more adventurous.” You tease. “I say a thousand years into the future.” The Doctor takes you 10,000 years in the future just to show off. You and Rose aren’t buying it.

“Right then, you asked for it. I know exactly where to go. Hold on!” The Doctor says messing with a few controls. When outside of the TARDIS you notice that you’re not on earth- but above it. A small smile forms on your face. “You lot, you spend all your time thinking about dying, like you’re going to get killed by eggs or beef or global warming or asteroids. But you never take time to imagine the impossible, that maybe you survive. This is the year five point five slash apple slash twenty six. Five billion years in your future, and this is the day…” The Doctor checks his watch as the sun flares and turns red. “This is the day the Sun expands. Welcome to the end of the world.”

“No way.” You say trying really hard not to sound shocked. The Doctor laughs and tells the two of you that the three of you should make way to wherever the other guests are.

On the way there, the Doctor gives you some details about what is going on at the moment. The steward stops the three of you, he’s suspicious- also blue. “But how did you get in? This is a maximum hospitality zone. The guests have disembarked. They’re on their way any second now.” The steward points out. The doctor pulls out a piece of blank paper and shows it to the steward.

“That’s me. I’m a guest. Look, I’ve got an invitation. Look. There, you see? It’s fine, you see? The Doctor plus two. I’m the Doctor, this is Rose Tyler and Y/N Winchester. They’re my plus one and two. Is that all right?”

“Well, obviously. Apologies, et cetera. If you’re on board, we’d better start. Enjoy.”

“What was that?” You ask in a soft tone of voice.

“The paper’s slightly psychic. It shows them whatever I want them to see. Saves a lot of time.” The Doctor answers.

“That’s one of the most ingenious things I’ve heard of.”

“We have in attendance the Doctor, Rose Tyler and Y/N Winchester. Thank you. All staff to their positions.” The steward says interrupting the conversation between you and the time lord. The staff quickly gets into position. “Hurry, now, thank you. Quick as we can. Come along, come along. And now, might I introduce the next honoured guest? Representing the Forest of Cheam, we have trees, namely, Jabe, Lute and Coffa.” You weren’t expecting actual walking and talking trees, you’re a little surprised to say in the least.

The steward then announces the other guests, which you tune out because you’re thinking about Sam and Katie, and how much they would enjoy this. You pull yourself out of your thoughts before you go in to deep. “The Gift of Peace. I bring you a cutting of my Grandfather.” One of the trees say. She offers the three of you a potted twig. The Doctor pats his pockets looking for a gift, he can’t find one.

“Thank you. Yes, gifts. Er, I give you in return air from my lungs.” He says before gently breathing on them. He does this for all the guests, guess it works as a gift… the steward then introduces the last guest: the last Human. The Lady Cassandra O'Brien Dot Delta Seventeen.

“That is a mouthful.” You whisper in Rose’s ear. She smiles in response. Now you and Rose were expecting an actual human with limbs and things like that, not a trampoline of skin with a face on it.

“Oh, now, don’t stare. I know, I know it’s shocking, isn’t it? I’ve had my chin completely taken away and look at the difference. Look how thin I am. Thin and dainty. I don’t look a day over two thousand. Moisturise me. Moisturise me.” Cassandra says to everyone else before talking to her attendants. One of them sprays some form of liquid on her. “Truly, I am the last Human. My father was a Texan, my mother was from the Arctic Desert. They were born on the Earth and were the last to be buried in its soil. I have come to honour them and say goodbye. Oh, no tears, no tears. I’m sorry. But behold, I bring gifts. From Earth itself, the last remaining ostrich egg. Legend says it had a wingspan of fifty feet and blew fire from its nostrils. Or was that my third husband? Oh, no. Oh, don’t laugh. I’ll get laughter lines. And here, another rarity.” The other gift is a jukebox. “According to the archives, this was called an iPod. It stores classical music from humanity’s greatest composers. Play on!” You have to hold back your laughter when the trampoline woman calls a jukebox an iPod- there is a huge difference between the two.
🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝 🐝
You and Rose walk the ship together, but the two of you are unsure if you’re allowed where you happen to be. “Sorry. Are we allowed to be in here?” Rose asks the woman in overalls and a baseball cap.

“You have to give us permission to talk.” She answers. Rose looks a bit uncomfortable as well as confused.

“Er, you have permission.” The woman in overalls smiles ever so slightly.

“Thank you. And, no, you’re not in the way. Guests are allowed anywhere.”

“Okay.” Rose still looks uncertain about what is going on.

“What’s your name anyways?” You ask.

“Ruffalo.” The woman you’re guessing is some sort of maintenance answers.

“That’s an interesting name.” Ruffalo looks a little embarrassed. You then smile. “Its also fun to say. Ruffalo.”

“I won’t be long, I’ve just got to carry out some maintenance. There’s a tiny little glitch in the Face of Boe’s suite. There must be something blocking the system. He’s not getting any hot water.”

“You’re a plumber?” Rose asks in response.

“That’s right, miss.”

“They still have plumbers?”

“I hope so, else I’m out of a job.” Ruffalo says with a slight smile. You, Rose and Ruffalo talk for a little bit. You and Rose allow Ruffalo to go back to what she was originally doing.
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The Doctor does something to Rose’s and your phones, now they can call or text from anywhere in time or space. Rose calls her mom to test it. You on the other hand send a text to Sherlock and John. “If you think that is amazing you should see the bill.” The Doctor says with a smile. You chuckle in response. Suddenly the ship shakes like an earthquake is happening. “That shouldn’t happen.”

“What was that?” You ask.

“Whatever it was it wasn’t a gravity pocket.” The Doctor then talks to the tree woman and she calls you and Rose the Doctor’s wives amongst a few other things that is a little awkward.

You and Rose walk towards Cassandra, only you veer left towards the jukebox. You then start messing with it seeing what songs are on that thing, you find songs you know and somehow get the jukebox working- you had to kind of hot wire it and insert a coin for it to work. Yellow Submarine by the Beatles starts to play. “I haven’t heard this song in many millennium.” The Face of Boe says startling you.

“Face of Boe, you frightened me.” You reply.

“Apologies Y/N.” The way how he talks is as if he knows you. You figure that he knew you five billion years ago if that was even possible. You and the Face of Boe talk for awhile, Rose throws you the occasional glance but doesn’t say anything. For the first time since she’s known you, your guard is down and you’re not looking over your shoulder every ten minutes. You sway in time to the music playing, occasionally singing along. Metaphorically speaking you’re letting your hair down just this once.
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Someone has planted robotic spiders on the ship to sabotage the systems and pretty much kill everyone, and the person responsible for the sabotages is Lady Cassandra. “I bet you were the school swot and never got kissed. At arms!” Cassandra commands. Her attendants raise their guns.

“What are you going to do, moisturise me?” The Doctor asks with an incredible amount of sass in his voice. You hide a smile behind your hand. You were going to say something to Rose about it but she’s nowhere to be found currently.

“With acid. Oh, you’re too late, anyway. My spiders have control of the mainframe. Oh, you all carried them as gifts, tax free, past every code wall. I’m not just as pretty face.” You make a mental note to never trust a talking trampoline.

“Sabotaging a ship while you’re still inside it? How stupid is that?”  

“I’d hoped to manufacture a hostage situation with myself as one of the victims. The compensation would have been enormous.”

“Five billion years and it still comes down to money.”

“Do you think it’s cheap, looking like this? Flatness costs a fortune. I am the last human, Doctor. Me. Not that freaky little kid of yours.”

“Hate to ask this but who are you referring to as the freaky kid? Me or Rose- both of us came with the Doctor.” You point out. Cassandra makes no comment in response.
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After everything it’s just you, Rose and the Doctor once again. The Doctor takes you and Rose back to your original time, and he tells the two of you that he is the last of his kind. His planet was destroyed in a war. The two of you tell him that he has the two of you.

Rose and the Doctor goes one way to get chips. You on the other hand returned to Baker street. You had enough adventures for one day. You head up the stairs. “There you are Y/N I was wondering where you disappeared to.” John says with a smile.

“Are you going to tell us what you were going to say before you left?” Sherlock asks setting down his violin.

“Right I mentioned that. Where do you want me to start?”

“Preferably from the beginning.”

‘Fair, you better not tune me out or tell anyone. If you do I might shoot you.“
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Your mom was a hunter and she did a lot of hunting with your dad, but she never told him that she made a deal with a demon and her time was almost up. When you were born your mom only had three years and a half years left.

“John I need you to come get Y/N.” Your mom said into the phone one day. You didn’t hear what your dad said in response. “I see… please hurry though.”

“Mommy, what’s going on?” You asked looking at your mother with large innocent eyes. Your mom didn’t have the heart to tell you that she was about to get ripped apart by a hellhound.

“Nothing sweetheart, but will you do me a favor… I want you to clean up your room a bit.” You nod slightly as your mom tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Whatever happens, just know I love you and I’ll always think about you.” You didn’t understand that your mom was saying her goodbyes to you, you thought that she was meaning something else.

You pick up your toys and things like that you come out of your room to tell your mom you were done- instead you find blood everywhere and your mother’s body torn to shreds.

You were alone for three long hours, scared out of your wits. “(Mom’s name)? Y/N?” Your dad asks when he gets there and inside. Katie was the one that found you, trembling as well as crying your eyes out. Because your tears clouded up your vision you didn’t recognize your sister, if anything she scared you more than you already were.

“(Nickname), it’s okay… I’m not going to hurt you.” Katie said trying to comfort you, without a lot of success. The boys had a little more experience comforting a scared toddler under their belts, Dean especially. She got up and walked away from you towards Dean. “Hey Dean, need your help… I think I accidentally made Y/N more scared then she originally was.” Katie then lead Dean to where you were. You had calmed down enough that you could at least see.

“Katie, how about you go help Dad and Sammy. I’ll get Y/N.” Dean said. Katie nodded and then took her leave. “Baby bug… you can come out now.” Your brother said coaxingly. You gave no form of verbal response, mainly because you had your thumb in you mouth. You did however shuffle forward a little bit. Eventually Dean gets you to come out of your hiding spot. He then picked you up and set you on his hip before carrying you to your room. He sets you down and takes off the backpack he was wearing and tells you to grab some of your favorite things and put them in the bag. Instead you grabbed a different bag that looked pretty heavy for a toddler and held it out to Dean. “That isn’t what I asked you to do.” Your brother says slightly annoyed as well as confused. In an almost inaudible voice you told your brother that your mom already put a bag together for you, you just needed to grab your stuffed animal friend and your blanket. “Grab them for me?” You nodded and grabbed your stuffed animal, your pillow and your blanket off your bed.

On the way out to the car you fell asleep against Dean’s shoulder clutching your stuffed animal friend to your chest. Your pillow and blanket are safely stowed in the backpack. “Got everything?” Your dad asked.

“(Mom’s name) had already packed most of Y/N’s things… as if she knew that this would happen.” Dean explained.

“She probably did… I mean she was a hunter after all.”
-End of flashback-
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“Six years later I first learned how to use a gun, and how to do stitches.” You say coming to an end of your explanation. “Started actually hunting when I was about eleven or twelve years old… I left hunting and came here after a bad argument with my dad, and I think you know the rest.”

“That explains why you were worried about Rose. You thought the doctor was a shape shifter.” Sherlock points out.


“What happened to your mother’s body?”

“Dad and my brothers gave my mom a hunter’s funeral, so basically she was cremated.” Surprisingly it isn’t Sherlock that tries to tell you the supernatural doesn’t exist- it’s John.

“There’s no way in hell, that can be true.” John states folding his arms.

“Believe what you will, but I am telling the truth. Humans aren’t the only monsters in this world.” You answer rather calmly. “Now if you excuse me I have to go explain to my sister why I sent her a picture of a bitchy trampoline.”

“A what now?”

“You heard me just fine John, I don’t need to say it again.”

“I’m wondering what you mean by bitchy trampoline.” John clarifies. You pull out your phone and look through your pictures and find the picture of Lady Cassandra that you took. And hand your phone to John.

“That’s what I mean by bitchy trampoline… she’s one of the people I met on my most recent adventure with Rose and the Doctor.” John accidentally scrolls to the next picture: the Doctor throwing you an ‘are you kidding me’ look. “That’s the Doctor. I made him look at me when I took that hence the ‘are you kidding me’ look.” You then take your phone back and walk to your room about to troll your brother and sister.

← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← ← → → → → → → → → → → → → → → → →





Of Sansa, brushing out Lady's coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.

Ok so I’ve seen a lot of people getting confused about this quote. Was Jon associating Sansa with Ygritte? Was he remembering one after the other? Or was it just Sansa followed by the words Jon has used as a mantra since A Storm of Swords?

The first answer is personally the one I believe to be correct and here’s why: both Sansa and Ygritte are heavily associated with songs and tales, they were raised with them and subsequently possess an extensive knowledge of these subjects. It certainly isn’t far-fetched to imagine Jon would notice the similarities between the two.


“Bael the Bard made it,” said Ygritte. “He was King-beyond-the-Wall a long time back. All the free folk know his songs, but might be you don’t sing them in the south.” - ACOK, Jon VI

“It never happened,” Jon said.
She shrugged. “Might be it did, might be it didn’t. It is a good song, though. My mother used to sing it to me. - ACOK, Jon IV

Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. - ASOS, Jon II

“Do you know ‘The Last of the Giants’?” Without waiting for an answer Ygritte said, “You need a deeper voice than mine to do it proper.” Then she sang - ASOS, Jon III

“Bael the Bard,” said Jon, remembering the tale that Ygritte had told him in the Frostfangs, the night he’d almost killed her. - ASOS, Jon I

“Gorne,” said Jon. “Gorne was King-beyond-the-Wall.”
Aye,said Ygritte. “Together with his brother Gendel, three thousand years ago. They led a host o’ free folk through the caves, and the Watch was none the wiser. But when they come out, the wolves o’ Winterfell fell upon them.” - ASOS, Jon III

The songs about Florian and Jonquil were her very favorites. - ACOK, Sansa II

…ah, you’re still a stupid little bird, aren’t you? Singing all the songs they taught you…sing me a song, why don’t you? Go on. Sing to me. Some song about knights and fair maids. You like knights, don’t you?” - ACOK, Sansa II

Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. - ASOS, Arya IV

When the Knight of Flowers had spoken up, she’d been sure she was about to see one of Old Nan’s stories come to life. - AGOT, Sansa III

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen. - AGOT, Sansa IV


It deeply moves them as well.


There were tears on Ygritte’s cheeks when the song ended. “Why are you weeping?” Jon asked. “It was only a song.” - ASOS, Jon II

During the battle beneath the Wall, Ser Godry Farring had slain a fleeing giant, pounding after him on horseback and driving a lance through his back, then dismounting to hack off the creature’s pitiful small head. The queen’s men had taken to calling him Godry the Giantslayer.
Jon remembered Ygritte, crying. I am the last of the giants. - ADWD, Jon I

Ser Narbert said, “I had been told all the giants were dead.”
“Almost all.” Ygritte wept for them. - ADWD, Jon IX

For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother’s queen, of Nymeria’s ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist. - ACOK, Sansa IV

He sang “Six Sorrows,” “Fallen Leaves,” and “Alysanne.” Such sad songs, she thought. - AFFC, Sansa I

“Her heart was broken.”
Sansa would have sighed and shed a tear for true love, but Arya just thought it was stupid. - ASOS, Arya VIII


Now, don’t these last passages also remind you of a certain someone 16 years ealier?


The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head. - ASOS, Bran II


Interesting isn’t it?

Good Southern Boys

Read it on AO3!
Bottom Erwin Week: Freeform
For the beautiful @valisi-clark who listens to me ramble, whine, complain, and drunk talk. 


Sundays in Southern Alabama are serious business, even moreso for the modest household on the edge of the city that three men call home. There’s church first thing in the morning at Saint Christopher’s Episcopal, followed by Sunday Dinner, which is, in fact, a lunch feast and not actual dinner. Mike’s last shift of the week is Sunday from eleven in the morning to nine at night, and he savours a good meal before he goes to work. However, after getting back from church fellowship that morning, Mike had suggested, “Let’s eat late tonight.”

It’s unusual, but Levi and Erwin agreed to it. Mike had a sandwich while standing at the kitchen counter before he grabbed his bag and was out the door. There’s plenty to do today, so Levi says that he and Erwin will go grocery shopping now while they’re still in their church clothes.

It’s busy by the time they get to Publix, and Levi has a terrible susceptibility to buggy-rage, so Erwin takes charge and pushes the buggy through the crowds. He’s big and he’s good looking, so people tend to stay out of his way. Levi takes advantage of that, tucking himself in close to Erwin’s side and only venturing out from the relative safety to take items off the shelves. Of course, the civil process is interrupted at the meat coolers. It’s a free-for-all at the tiny section along the back wall of the Publix, and Erwin tries to look aloof to Levi’s less-than-polite interactions. Luckily for him, no one confronts him about how his partner snatched a steak right from another woman’s hands, and they carry on their merry way up to the checkouts.

Continue reading on AO3

No, but realise this. Sherlock has met Eurus, has solved the case of his suppressed emotions and also made peace with his siblings. In short, you have a man who was spending so much energy, knowingly and unknowlingly, into suppressing his emotional side. 

Those reasons are out in the open and he has dealt with them. In short, his hard drive is now free from hubris and his processor is free to focus solely on solving mysteries.

Peoples, introducing Sherlock Holmes, the sharpest Consulting Detective version 2.0. If you thought he was amazing earlier, prepared to be amazed. The man will be raring to go at your case, all his shackles left behind. 

I cannot wait!!