i cannot deal with your face

It is becoming increasingly clear that Donald Trump ...

Is one of those people who, if you met them at a party and had no idea who he was or that he was rich, you would very quickly try to figure out how to back away from.

More, from his handshakes to his in your face wealth and self importance, he knows you WANT to back away, so he’s got to get you trapped to keep you near.

What it must be like to live in so ego-damaged a soul I cannot imagine. I’d be sympathetic, even …. If he weren’t president, and his pathologies are ours to deal with.

It’s quite a thing.

SP I see you and I don’t like you.

I need to vent. I’m tired. So freaking tired of the franchise insulting, changing, destroying and hurting my beloved ship out of jealousy, bitterness and sexism. Yeah, okay, SasuSaku is the most popular het ship in the series even though it doesn’t include Naruto, yes okay Sakura chose Sasuke over the main character Naruto who according to the franchise deserves the universe and then some. Yes okay, Sasuke is Naruto’s rival and needs to be put in his place because ‘Main character’.
But you’re supposed to be professional. And yet, you keep insulting, excluding and forcefully changing Sasuke and Sakura as characters and a ship, while everyone else gets to keep their happily ever after. And why? Because Naruto isn’t part of the ship.
What was the point of keeping Sasuke away from his best friend’s wedding and having a sad Sakura be jealous at everyone around her getting into relationships? Even though 699 had them both understand each other’s feelings?
What was the point of changing the few ‘moments’, if you can even call them that, SasuSaku had in the novels by changing scenes such as the one where Sasuke gets a letter and it’s mentioned that Sakura remembered his childhood dream but instead, in the anime, it’s Naruto that remembers it?
What was the point of animating almost every stupid novel, even the ones that honestly do not matter at all, all while leaving out Sakura’s where she gets to shine and Sasuke is shown to care through going out of his way (like in canon) to travel back to rescue Sakura?
Why re tell the Boruto movie in a manga and cut out the scene at the end where Sasuke and Sakura sit on a roof as if Sakura was never an important part Sasuke thought of when making important decisions (like in Gaiden where she was included in the Hokage meeting)? 
What’s with the ‘yay Hokage nay papa’ bullshit you force onto Sarada even though her relationship with Sasuke was completely fine at the end of Gaiden?
Why the hell are you making Sasuke care more about Naruto’s brat than his own family? Are you sane?

SS gets pushed aside, ignored in fillers, insulted and torn apart. And honestly, if what I saw regarding the cast for the new anime is true, it wouldn’t surprise me if SP tries to destroy my ship entirely in the anime. Noriaki isn’t even listed, and neither is Chie. Why is that? Are they going to make Sasuke travel again with the excuse that he has to ‘investigate’ the mark on Boruto’s hand? Are they going to keep him out of the picture by making him train Boruto outside the village for a few years like Jiraiya did even though Jiraiya didn’t have a freaking family to look and care for? Are they going to keep Sakura out of the picture by letting her simply disappear and never return again because lols reasons? If I didn’t know the franchise as well as I do, I would call prank or bullshit on this. but I do. Even Shino is listed as a returning character in the anime. Can you believe that? That’s how far those people are willing to go for their hatred towards SasuSaku.

People need to finally open their eyes. SP isn’t going to give you more kids, nice flashbacks or cute little fillers free of stress, angst or negativity. It will continue to shit on your ship, hide it in a nice looking gift box to make you believe it’s actually something cute and positive, only for you to notice that you have been tricked once again (aka the last or road to ninja or boruto the movie).

I could deal with all of this way better if it wasn’t for the fandom. Because a very large portion cannot or refuses to face the fact that all material that is not produced and released by Kishi can be seen as not canon.

And even though all of this is a burden I hate, I’m still happy with my canon SasuSaku ship. Because canon, once it’s not buried under a pile of filler shit anymore, is pretty amazing.

anonymous asked:

Why do you think Sherlock was 'road-testing' (practising) dancing to the piece he composed for John and Mary, considering they were the only ones going to dance to it? It was the morning of the wedding, presumably he'd already taught John by this point. Do you think he was imagining dancing with John? Do you think he hoped he would dance with John at some point that night?

My first thought when I saw that scene was that he was practicing dancing to it just to make sure it was…well, a “danceable” composition, if that makes sense. Checking the tempo, feel, rhythm, etc. This is his gift to John and Mary and, just like his speech, he’s terrified of screwing it up.

As to your other questions…ugh. UGH. That whole “I taught him conversation” at the end of TSoT conversation just wrecks me. I mean, this has just happened:

Sherlock’s true feelings are briefly written all over his face, and John absolutely cannot deal. He looks down, has a second of wait, what? glances back up to confirm he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing, and yeah. He can’t look. He can’t face those feelings.

Sherlock sees that, and he gives John an out. He tells them to go dance. Mary (very considerately) asks “what about you?”, they joke about there being “limits,” and then the tutoring conversation happens.

Here’s how I read it (lining up the dialogue with the gifs):

SHERLOCK: “Don’t worry Mary, I have been tutoring him.”

JOHN: “He did you know…”

JOHN: “Baker Street behind closed curtains.”

I put a delay on the last frame. It lines up with John’s “closed curtains” comment. See how Sherlock’s kind of trying to laugh along until John makes that joke? He glances at John with a confused, almost hurt expression here.

John, meanwhile, has gone into full-on bro mode. It’s his way of utterly denying what he’s just read on Sherlock’s face. His shield is fucking UP. I love John Watson dearly, but I have a hard time watching him here, because he’s truly being a dickhead.

JOHN: “Mrs. Hudson came in one time.”

JOHN: “Don’t know how those rumors got started.”

A careless glance at Sherlock, a dismissive joke about their dance lessons and years of rumors about their relationship, a flippant laugh (seriously, listen to the way he laughs there, it’s SO not his normal laugh)

brush it off, never meant a thing, face the wife, face AWAY from Sherlock, don’t look back don’t look back don’t look back

He gets super affectionate with Mary. And yes, I know, it’s their wedding, they’re dancing, they’ve just learned she’s pregnant. But we’ve seen John act affectionate with Mary and this is different. John might as well have NO HOMO stamped on his forehead here.

He. Can’t. Deal.

And Sherlock knows it.

Did he imagine, after their lessons, maybe getting the chance to dance with John at the reception?

Possibly. Probably. He did just tell Janine (and us viewers) that he loves to dance and has been “living in hope for the right case.” Well, he’d solved quite a case this evening.

And after all, John had danced with him before during their lessons. Maybe Sherlock thought John was comfortable with it – comfortable enough with his own sexuality, whatever he considers that to be – to dance with his friend at his wedding reception, his best friend, his best man. It doesn’t mean anything unless it means something.

 

But no, that was “behind closed doors.” Can’t let anyone see that, nope. That’s how those rumors got started. Those silly, meaningless rumors that meant absolutely nothing, just everyone in the world reading too much into this totally platonic friendship, right mate?

Maybe they could’ve danced in front of everyone, because it wouldn’t mean anything. Except John read the real meaning on Sherlock’s face, and nope, not gonna happen now, can’t face that, can’t deal, shields up.

Because it would have meant something to Sherlock. Just like it did “behind closed doors.” It means everything. And he doesn’t care who knows, not anymore.

But John cares. Right, Sherlock? John cares who knows. He cares what people think. It really bothers you. What? What people say.

It still bothers John. He can’t deal with Sherlock’s feelings, and he can’t deal with his own. John’s shield is up and who knows if he’ll ever lower it again. And Sherlock accepts that, and he respects it, and he does the only thing he can do now.

Shields up.

Well. I didn’t mean for this meta to happen. Time to go cry into my soup.

+ In ones chart, Iris (7) will show where you cannot succeed in lying. If you act sneaky, success in this area will be literally “put to sleep” until you learn to be more honest in your dealings.

I have Iris conjunct my ASC, and I can’t lie for SHIT because you can tell by my face bye

Carousel: Part 4 (COLE X READER)

Carousel – 4

SUMMARY: It’s the last day of shooting. You’re very excited to see Cole, especially after what happened the other night. However, he starts acting differently towards you. When you find out the reason why, your heart breaks.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love! I hope you enjoy reading this ‘cuz I really enjoyed writing this one! Here’s a cup of tea and my favourite butter cookies ^_^

-

Today is the last day of shooting. You had mixed emotions when you woke up this morning-  clearly very excited to see Cole after what happened the other night, but also doleful at the thought of not seeing him everyday.

Even with so much on your plate, you still can’t believe Cole kissed you. Cole Sprouse kissed you. It’s so surreal- you’ve had the world’s biggest crush on this guy for the longest time and last night, he kissed you!

It’s too good to be true, to be honest. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been and all the credit goes to Cole. 

The cheeky dork from Suite life of Zach and Cody to the cheeky handsome lad from Riverdale.

You’ve only worked with him for over a month but it’s crazy to think how, in such a small amount of time, he managed to make you like him more and more everyday with his sense of humour and clever pick-up lines. From the way he irritated you to the way he was most courteous around you- aw, you loved him all the same!

Wait. Did you just say love?

You enter the set right on time. Mark was pleased to see you, as always.

“(Y/N)!”, you heard someone call. “(y/n), over here!”.

You turned to find Camila, Lili and Casey huddled up in the Hair and make up room.

“What’s up?”, you walk towards them.

“So,” Casey begins,” Since today is our last day of shooting, we all thought it would be a great idea to hang out at Camila’s house afterwards.”

“You know, some cheesy Riverdale get-together” Camila explains.

That would mean extra time with Cole!

“Sure, that sounds lovely!” you reply happily.

“YAY!”, they all cheer and hug you.

“Aw, I’m gonna miss you guys so much!” you exclaim.

“Save the tears for later, babe.” Camila retorts.

-

You’ve already been in set for two hours but there’s  still no sight of Cole.

You wanted to call him and ask him where he was but the Beyonce inside of you told  you not to.

 “So, you in tonight?,” KJ walks over to you.

“Yeap,” you nod,”Are you done for the day?”

“Nah. I’ve got two scenes left.” He answers.

“Oh, right. We’ve got a scene later.”

“What’s up? Why do you look so blue?,” KJ questions, clearly reading the disappointment in your face.

“I’m not bl-“

“COLE!” KJ calls out, looking at the other side.

Alas! There he was. Your handsome Cole.

Something was odd about him today though. Usually he would give the warmest smile and run up to you and KJ, but today he just waved and left- ignoring your gaze.

“That’s odd,” KJ commented, “Maybe he’s just tired.”

-

“Great job, (y/n). That was a great scene,” Mark applauded, “You too, KJ”.

“Thanks, Mark.” You and KJ reply in unison.

“(Y/N), I have to talk to you,” said Mark.

“I’ll see you later, (y/n)”, KJ made his way to the changing room.

“(y/n),” Mark began,” You’ve done really well this season. You’ve won all of our hearts with your talent and I’m pretty sure the fans are gonna love you as well”.

Your heart felt warm on hearing his kind words, “Aw, Thank you so much. It’s been great working with you too, Sir. An absolute pleasure!”

“If we were to call you back for season 3, you would be available right?” he questioned, making your eyes widen.

“Absolutely! I would love to.” You happily reply.

“Perfect, I’ll see you before we all pack up” Mark leaves.

Season 3? Wow. Mark wants you back for season 3. Another roller coaster with Cole. The only thing that mattered to you was Cole. You wanted to see him, talk to him, play with him, have him irritate you- do all the things you id when you first met.

You still haven’t seen him since the awkward wave earlier today. It felt odd but KJ assured he may have been just tired.

Suddenly, you spot him heading towards the Men’s room.

“Cole!” you call him. He turns around to meet your eyes.

His eyes didn’t glisten like it did the other night. Instead, he just ignored your voice and looked away. He headed straight to the Men’s room, leaving you hanging.

What was that?

Your heart tried to convince you that maybe he just didn’t hear you but your mind knows that he did see you- he just ignored you and left.

Why was he acting like that? It can’t be total coincidence that he acted strangely earlier today too. Something was up.

-

“Hey, Cole and Lili are doing an interview in the other room. Wanna watch them?” KJ asks.

“Sure,” you think it may be a good idea to observe Cole for a while,”I guess”.

You and KJ head towards the interview room. It’s partitioned by a glazed wall so KJ and you just watch them from outside.

Cole looked heavenly as always. You wanted to be mad at him for ignoring you but c’mon, I mean, look at that face! Who can stay mad at that?

“So, Cole Sprouse and Lili Reinhart,” the interviewer began,”Any gist you can give us for the second season of Riverdale?”

“Well, there are a lot of new characters and interesting plot!” Lili answered.

“We’re not giving anything away. You have to watch find out”, Cole wittily replied.

Damn him. And his cheeky smile.

“I know we haven’t got a lot of time since you kids have to get back to work, so let me just ask you the question the whole Riverdale fandom is dying to find out. Are you guys seeing anyone?”

You could feel your heart squeeze. What was he going to reply? Is he gonna say he’s single? Or is he going to tell them about you?

“Well…,” Lili laughed nervously.

“We are, actually.” Cole replied boldly. “I’m seeing someone”

“And who might that lucky person be?” the interviewer asked.

You could feel an entire zoo in your stomach waiting for Cole’s response.

“Lili” he answered.

Your heart sank.

“Lili and I are dating.”

“Wonderful! I can’t believe….” The interviewer’s voice faded as you walked yourself out of the room.

What did you just hear? Cole is dating Lili? Since when?

You could feel your heart pumping, or was it breaking? You grabbed a bottle of water and sat yourself down.

No, this cant be., your heart argued. He kissed me last night.

He said he will miss seeing me.

How can he do this to me?

Or is he just saying it for the ratings?

What if he’s just saying it to increase the bughead shippers?

Yeah, that must be it. Cole would never hurt you like that . The cheeky hearthrob who took you to the most beautiful bridge one cold night, would never hurt you like that.

You convinced yourself that Cole simply said it for the sake of saying it. The theory calmed your heart for a little while-

You heard the door open and Lili, Cole and KJ walked out. You immediately got up from your seat.

“(y/n)!!”, KJ walked towards you, “Where were you?”

You gave him a small smile, before looking at Cole and saying,”Can I talk to you for a while?”

“I have scene with Lil-“ he was cut off by Lili,”Oh that can wait. See you guys later!” Lili and KJ exited the room.

“Yeah, what did you want to talk about?” he harshly asked. He sounded cold. His face bore an expression you couldn’t read.

“Are you really dating Lili?” you asked in a sloppy tone,clenching your fist, hoping he’d say no.

“Yeah.” He bluntly replies.

You eyes widen. Your heart sinks

“Since when?”

“Does it matter?” he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

You could feel warm tears collect in your eyes as you gather the strength to reply to him. “Well, yeah.” Your voice cracked,”You kissed me last night.”

When he saw you cry, his face dropped but not long before it went back to its cold self. “So? People kiss all the time, (y/n). It’s not a big deal.”

You cannot believe what you just heard. How could he do this to you? How could he kiss you knowing how much you liked him, knowing it would break you once you learnt that he was actually dating Lili?

How could he be so cruel?

You covered your face and ran away from the scene. Without a thought in the world, you immediately got into your car and sped home.

-

Everyone had finished packing up and were gathered in the centre stage.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Mark questioned,”Cole?”

“How would I know where (y/n) is?” Cole replied harshly, although, his face read concern and he had been looking around the room searching for a certain face since the last 5 minutes.

“I called her a dozen times, she isn’t answering.” KJ said.

“Maybe she left.”

“Alright, nevermind then” Mark concluded, “Anyways…”

-

10:56pm

You’re standing outside Camila’s house. You spent the last hour at Barney’s Bar insead of heading home. You don’t know what brought you here. You’re not sober enough to think twice about your decision. YOLO- you knock on her door.

“(Y/N)!” Camila exclaims in surprise. She takes you in by the hand and announces, “EVERYONE! (Y/N) is here !”

“Whoa, (y/n),” KJ retorts, “Did you already get wasted on your own before coming here?” he comes closer to sniff you.

From the corner of your eye, you could already make out that Cole was standing there with a bottle of beer in his hand. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him. 

I hate him.

“Maybe.” You whisper close into KJ’s ears.

“We were just playing truth and dare,” Cam intervenes, “Let’s continue”

So now, you’re all gathered in a circle, with Cole sitting right across you. He and Lili sitting aside each other. Ugh.

Camila spins the bottle. “Aw,” Camila cheekily grins. The bottle pointed at you.

“So, (y/n). Truth or dare?”

“Dare” you boldly reply, earning yourself a lot of “oooh” from the squad.

“I dare you to kiss KJ”, Camila excitedly blurts. As she said it, you accidently meet Cole’s gaze. His eyes widen at Camila’s bold dare.

You turn away from him. “Sure,” you smirk at Cam and pull KJ towards you.

You were just about to crush your lips onto his, when-

You felt an arm grab you from behind pull you out of the enclosure.

Before you could make sense of what was happening, Cole had already brought you out on the front porch.

“What the hell, Cole?”, you angrily push him away.

“’What the hell, Cole?’ What the hell do you think you were doing in there? What the hell do you think you’re doing here, showing up this late? You could’ve gotten yourself into an accident, you know? You could’ve-“

“SO WHAT, COLE?”,you question him angrily,” Why do you care?”

“Because I, I-“ he looks away, refusing to meet your gaze.

“Nevermind.”, you could already feel tears form in your eyes. You wipe it away quickly. You couldn’t even look at him anymore- Looking at him hurt.

“Nevermind. It’s all just a game to you, anyway. Just because you knew I had the world’s biggest crush on you, you thought it would be okay to play with my heart. Well guess what, Cole? I’m over it. “ you see how his face changed. He looked…hurt?

“I’m over it. I’m over you. Good on you, though. Even though we weren’t really together, you managed to break my heart anyway. You really hurt me. I bet you must be ecstatic right now.”, you try to sound stern but the tears rolling down your cheek get the best of you.

“Everything okay in here?” KJ makes his entrance to the porch.

You rub your eyes, “Yeah. Eveything is fine.”, you give him an assuring smile,”I wanna go home.”

“I’ll drop you.” Cole says in a low tone.

“I can do it too” KJ offers, “if you want..”

“Thanks, KJ.” You walk towards his car.

You pause.

You turn around and walk towards Cole for one last time, “(y/n), I-“

You cut him off, “I forgive you. I know you’re not sorry but I forgive you.” You sniff and smile through your tears. “Also,” you move closer to him, “People kiss all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“(y/n), I-“

You leave before he says anything. You leave him hanging. Tears continue to fall from your eyes as you get into KJ’s car and out of Cole’s sight, knowing that your heart will not follow.

They say love is a carousel, you go round and around and around until you finally come to a stop. It’s the endless push and pull of emotions. You think you know what’s right. You even think you know what’s best.

But do we ever really know?

I don’t think so.

-

It has been two weeks since the incident. You’re completely heartbroken over what Cole did to you but “never again will I allow someone to make me feel this way” you promised yourself.

Pictures of Cole and Lili continue to circulate all over the internet, which was part of the reason why you deactivated all your social media accounts.

Since that night at Camila’s house, and three days after- Cole called you over 30 times and left you a dozen messages. You didn’t answer any.

He knows how much I like him. He knows. He’s just trying to lure me into his webbed lies again, you convinced yourself.

What could he possibly have to say after what he said in set on the last day of shooting?

You’ve changed your number since.

You’re also,now, staying with your parents since lonely nights in LA haunt you with the memories of a certain black haired raven eyed boy with the most beautiful smile.

“Honey, there’s a mail for you,” your mom hands you a letter.

it read -

“To

(y/n),

You are cordially invited to attend the grand trailer premiere of Riverdale Season Two at Hollywood Open House on the 12th of July 2017 at 11am.”

Shit.

• Taglist- @xbobaa

anonymous asked:

16 ZACH DEMPSEY FLUFF!

from this prompt post

Originally posted by 13reasons-13truths

“Jesus Christ, you look like shit.” Jess walked in my room, pulling the curtain open for the first time in a couple of days. I blinked and curled into my blankets, unearthing a few empty cartons of Ben and Jerry’s from the end of my bed as I narrowed my eyes at her through the small opening in my comforter.

“Get up.” Jess wrinkled her nose at the trash thrown everywhere, and reached over my bed to rip the covers off of me. I groaned loudly, my high pitched noise frightening Rufus, who jumped up from the end of my bed and began to growl, his ears up and alert as he mustered all the ferocity an obese corgi can. I shoved my head into my pillow, mumbling something incoherent as Jess began to tug at my legs. “I don’t know what you just said. Get-the-fuck-up-, Y/N.” She accentuated each word with a pull on my legs. “Jesus, you haven’t shaved in a while.”

“Ha ha.” I mumbled, face still buried in the pillow. “Suck for you.” 

I could practically feel Jess roll her eyes as she sat down on my bed, placing a reassuring hand on my back. “Look. I know the breakup was hard on you. I know Zach fucked up, and we both know that the reason he gave was bullshit. Focusing more on school? Sure, Zach. But that’s the past. You can either sit here, mope, get greasy and smelly as you focus on something that happened and can’t be changed, orrrrr you could get up, throw on a super cute outfit and go hella slutty tonight at Bryce’s party. C’mon, this’ll be your chance to make Zach jealous! It’ll so be worth it.”

I felt my heart sink at the mention of his name, but the opportunity to make Zach wish he could have something he let go was too tantalizing for me to pass up.

“Fine.” 

With Jess there, I was ready in less than half an hour. She’d poked and prodded with makeup brushes and lipsticks, and yanked and tore my hair after I had showered, and pulled out the shortest dress I owned with the highest pair of heels I owned.

“Holy SHIT! Your ass looks amazing in that!” My eyebrows shot up as I turned quickly to look at my butt in the mirror. 

“Huh. Wouldja look at that. You’re a miracle worker, Jess.”

“Look, Y/N. When your mom calls me, worried out of her mind because you haven’t left your room in three days, I start to get worried and of course I have to come and help. What are best friends for? Now c’mon, let’s go fuck up Zach Dempsey.”

She hugged me quickly and led me out to her car. She chattered on endlessly about cheerleading and tests and Justin as we drove, with me responding with the occasional word of encouragement and interest. I mostly watched the trees passing by, blurring into one another as day turned into night. We had just pulled up into Bryce’s driveway when Jess turned to me.

 “Now, I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’ll be DD’ing, so you just go and have fun.”

I smiled for the first time in a while. “Thanks, Jess. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Love ya.” With the confidence of a newly single girl ready to take on the world, I stepped out of her car and strutted to the front door, smiling at every person I passed and making a beeline for the kitchen, where the drinks were. Before I could set foot onto the tiled floor, Bryce slid in front of me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Hey, Y/N! Good to see you out and about!”

“Hi Bryce.” I muttered, pulling away. He always gave me the creeps. He was a total player, like most of his friends.

“C’mon, Y/N! Let me get you something to drink.” He smiled, that charming, irresistible to many smirk. And then, I decided- fuck it.

“Sure, Bryce.” I smiled, curling into his arm as he led me out back to a keg. 

“I’ll be back in a sec.” He winked, then reappeared a second later, handing me a full Solo cup of lukewarm beer.

“Thanks.” I took a sip, grimacing slightly, and turned to make my way back into the house, until I heard a low whistle from Bryce.

“Wow, Y/N. I didn’t know you had such a nice body. Damn girl. I know you must be searching for a rebound, so hey. I’m right here.” He had stepped up right behind me, and whispered that softly into my ear, his breath warm on my cheek.

“No thank you, Bryce. I-” I pulled away, but Bryce grabbed my waist and pulled me back towards him, groping my ass as he pulled me closer. “Bryce, get-” 

I was just about to turn and hit him when I heard a deep voice that simultaneously comforted me and sent a chill through me, shattering the semblance of confidence I had before.

“Bryce, I think you heard her say no.” Zach stood there, all 6′3″ of him, looking imposing as he crossed his arms over his chest, making sure his biceps were bulging as he looked down at Bryce. “C’mon, Y/N.” He stretched out his hand to me and I hurried away from Bryce, grabbing on to him and walking further into Bryce’s huge backyard.

He led me to the gazebo that sat under the shade of a huge oak tree, and sat down next to me on one of the benches. I moved away from him, leaving a gap between us as we sat wordlessly. I watched the moonlight dance through the gazebo as the trees shifted in the wind, and I felt myself shudder as that same wind blew harder through the gazebo. Zach shifted slightly, and I felt the heavy and familiar weight of his varsity jacket on my shoulders, covering up the too tight, too slutty dress. 

“Much better.” I heard Zach mutter.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“No, I think you said something, Zach. Please, enlighten me.”

“I said, ‘much better.’ I don’t like the way guys were looking at you in that dress.”

I turned to him, anger blazing in my eyes. “You lost the right to be concerned about guys looking at me about three days ago.”

He stiffened, and looked away. “I…”

“No, Dempsey. Sit down and listen. We dated for a month, which really isn’t that long, I get it. But we’d been hooking up and we’d been friends for a helluva lot longer. So I think I deserve more than a fucking text message that I get at eleven at night saying ‘I can’t do us anymore.’ I deserve a lot more. It was hard, it’s been hard, Zach. It’s not fair to me. I deserve an explanation, because you and I both know that the ‘school’ excuse is bullshit. I thought I meant more to you than that, but I guess not.” 

I shrugged the jacket off, letting it crumple in a heap on the ground as I stood up to leave, but Zach caught my wrist as I stood.

“You mean a lot more to me. I never meant to hurt you.” 

I rolled my eyes as I felt them start to tear up. “You did. You really, really did.” I let out a humorless chuckle as the tears started to flow. “I thought I was done crying over you.” I stood for a second, wiping the mascara stains off my face. “I still am waiting for your explanation.”

Zach sighed, looking down at his feet. When he made eye contact with me again, I was surprised to see his eyes glistening as well.

“That’s just it, Y/N. I don’t have an explanation. I…I never meant to break up with you. I just…I fell too fast. And I got scared. But the minute I did it I regretted it. I regretted it when I realized how upset I was. And you bet your ass I regretted it a thousand times more when I heard from Jess how badly you were taking it…the only reason I came here tonight is to apologize. And to tell you that, if you’ll take me back, I won’t fuck up again. And…to say that I love you.”

My head shot up as he said those last three words. Something in my eyes must’ve told him it was right, because he leaned in and gently kissed me, placing his hand on top of mine. It was tender, hesitant, and perfect. I pulled away, wiping his eyes as I shakily smiled. “I accept your apology, I take you back, and…I love you too.” Zach smiled victorious, and pulled me in for a hug, my head fitting perfectly into the crook of his neck.

“Seriously, though, as much as I love that dress because damn it makes your ass look beautiful, please put my jacket back on because I cannot deal with the way the other guys look at you.” I rolled my eyes and smiled as Zach leaned down to place the jacket on my shoulders and pull me in close, kissing me on the forehead.

“It feels so nice to be able to say that I love you to your face, Y/N.”

“You’re a dork. But ditto.”

Nessian Headcanons (as first time parents)

Think I might do these for all my ships. Cos why not 💁🏻

Rowaelin Manorian Feysand

 ***

-so you think Nesta can’t get any moodier well strap yourself in because pregnant Nesta is a tyrant.

-which turns out well because when Cassian finds out she’s pregnant he becomes so sappy and sweet and honestly as much as she yells at him (which lets be honest is all the time) he can’t help but just smile at her.

  -they are both pretty nervous though because no ones really sure how a baby with someone who was Made is gonna be like because Fae having children rare enough as it is let alone a half/Illyrian half Made Fae.

  -Nesta likes to put on a front like she doesn’t particularly care like she’s having a baby what of it but one day Cassian comes home from spending time with Az and Rhys and she’s sitting on the couch clutching her stomach and she’s crying her eyes out. At first he thinks she must be in labour but then realises that she’s just really, really scared. Scared that she won’t be a good mum and scared that something will go wrong because she loves her baby so so much and she would die if anything happened to it.

-Cassian comforts her through all her breakdowns and gently kisses her forehead and reassures her. Because he knows Nesta better than he knows anyone, and he can’t think of a better woman to be the mother of his children.

-Nesta is convinced that they are having a boy and Cassian thinks it’s a girl and they fight endlessly about it (*spoiler Nestas right as per usual*)

-one day Cassian and Nesta are having dinner like normal when her stomach starts convulsing in this weird ass way. It’s like when the baby kicks (btw the first time that happened Cassian and Rhys both cried while Az comforted them. They were just 3 very happy brothers) but on steroids and they were both like ‘what the fuck’ but then Cassian realised its just the baby stretching it’s little wings trying to get comfy.

  -Nesta is over a week overdue and it’s so pissy about it. The only people who can stand to be near her are Elain (bless her soul) and Cassian (who lowkey finds her outbursts hilarious)

-Cassian has to go away to the Court of Nighmares with Rhys while she’s still pregnant and is extremely nervous about it and does not want to leave her alone. Feyre and Elain both stay with her while he’s gone and it’s like a big sleepover except Nesta goes into labour because when has the timing ever been convenient in her and Cass’s relationship?

-Cassian makes it back just in time to see his boy born and cried hysterically while he’s holding him. Then he hears a not-so-subtle uh hem and whoops he forgot to show Nesta their baby.

  -All three of them huddle together for the night and it’s so wonderful. Their son has rich black and purple wings and Cassian is convinced he will be the most powerful Illyrian ever and will be able to beat him and his Uncle Az and Rhys in a fight before he’s even 5 years old.

  -the first time the baby flew was when it was 3 months old and Cass wasn’t there and Nesta was like ‘shit Shit shit Shit’ because it’s not like she can fly after her son. It’s turns out okay though because he can’t get very far when he’s so young, and he is content just to fly around the lounge room.

-Cassian is devastated that he missed it, but then realises that this means he can start teaching his son to fly.

-Cassian and the Bub get up to so many shenanigans together. Once when the bub had just turned 4 they accidentally ruined a painting Feyre had made for Nesta and when Nesta questioned them about it Cassian just crossed his arms and was like 'I have no idea what your talking about Sweetheart’ and their son copied his daddy right down to the crossed arms, stance, and smirk on his face.

-speaking of the smirk it GETS. THE. KID. WHATEVER. HE WANTS. Seriously. One smile from the boy and people will sacrifice anything for him.

  -and more 'let’s give mummy a heart attack’ fun, when their son is 4 and a half Cassian throws him out the window of the House of Wind as a prank (both father and son knew it would be fine they had been practising in secret to surprise mum) and Nesta was absolutely hysterical and screamed for someone to go get her baby and she didn’t stop crying until she had her baby in her arms. She made Cassian sleep on the couch for the rest of the week.

  -Nesta and Cassian have a lot of arguments about how to raise him. Cassian is adamant that he be raised in an Illyrian camp, but Nesta refused saying she thinks that it is barbaric.

-eventually she yields when she realises how important it for Cassian and his proud Illyrian heritage, and Cass didn’t turn out that bad so what could be the worst that happens?

-Her baby comes home everyday for the next decade with new bruises, but he always has a smile on his face and becomes one of the fiercest warriors in the camp, and has already been given 3 siphons to help harness his power.

  -then oh shit puberty hits.

-Nesta legit is like 'I cannot deal with this Cassian do something he’s gonna start humping the couch like a dog you fucking Illyrian brutes and your conquests’

-So Cass enlists the help of Az and Rhys and they all have a stern talk about safe sex and what all these things happening with his body mean and the poor lad is just sitting there and his face is bright red and he can’t look his dad or uncles in the eyes for weeks (which they find hilarious)

  -when he does his trials in the mountain Nesta frets nervously for the whole week while the rest of the family is chill as fuck. Cass isn’t worried at all. His son is, just as he thought he would be, one of the strongest Illyrians to ever have been born.

-All in all they are just a beautiful family.

-it takes Nesta a really long time to become pregnant again, it isn’t easy for her, and her son is nearly 21 by the time she runs into Cass crying of happiness because she’s pregnant again after years and years of trying.

-Cass also thinks this baby is going to be a girl. This time he is right.

Revelations

AAAAAAAAAAAH.

So. My second fanfic. Here, as promised. What is more, within the confinements of the very vague promise of “someday” that was given (Inspired by this ask I received).

I have been working very hard (occasionally) on this for the last week or so, it is almost 3 am and I. Can’t. Edit. Anymore. So I’m leaving it here, for your judgement.

Also I can’t think of a name for this damn thing.

ACOWAR spoilers, for those of you who haven’t read it yet.

Summary: In the aftermath of a war between The Autumn Court and The Day Court, Helion Spell-Cleaver is once again faced with his former lover, The Lady of the Autumn Court - and she has a secret she needs to share with him. Set after ACOWAR.

A/N: I cannot deal with naming characters. That is not my problem and so she doesn’t have a name. 

AO3 link

Keep reading

This poor little sad tho

He’s telling people how he’s separated from the woman he LOVESSS

AND HE’S MAD AT BLACKBEARD AND ANGRY AND DESPERATE AND SAD IN GENERAL AND YOU CAN SOOO SEE IT

EVEN HERE. EVEN KNOWING THAT HE’S GOT IT ALL PLANNED ANYWAY.

lol HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING. FUCKING EVERY EXChANGE BETWEEN THESE TWO IS GOLD AND I LOVE IT SO FUCKING MUCH

YOU HAD SIX ACES IN YOUR DECK LOLOLOL

THIS FACE THO. THIS IS A FACE OF ACCEPTING THAT KILLIAN JONES IS SMARTER THAN YOU.

AND THIS IS THE I’M SO GOOD DUDE. GIMME THAT BEAN SO I CAN GO SEE MY SWAN.

also he’s just so pretty. I cannot deal rn with how pretty he is.

It is ABSURD.

how pretty he is.

Someone ask him to stop.

dumpsternfire  asked:

okayy so im left handed and so is ushiwaka so i'm just imagining him dealing with left handed problems and would really like to see your headcanons about that (: thank you

i can just see him struggling with his resting neutral face but slowly starting to lose patience after a while

  • he has a mighty hate for spiral notebooks and struggles daily to find a normal notebook to use in school
  • doesn’t really uses his credit card or cards that needs to get swiped. Mostly a cash only guy
  • zIPPERS AND BUTTONS
  • actually finding a goddamn scissor in school to use without the massive pain of using a righty scissor
  • so sad he cannot use his mugs with texts/pictures bc no one will see what it says except him
  • he just want people to see the cat on it
  • takes great pain and offense in can openers 
Some men carry you to bed with your boots on.
Some men say your name like a verbal tic.
Some men slap on an emotional surcharge for every erotic encounter.
Some men are slightly mentally ill, and thinking of joining a gym.
Some men have moved on and can’t be seduced, even in the dream bars you meet them in.
Some men who were younger are now the age you were then.
Some men aren’t content with mere breakage, they’ve got to burn you to the ground.
Some men you’ve reduced to ashes are finally dusting themselves off.
Some men are made of fiberglass.
Some men have deep holes drilled in by war, you can’t fill them.
Some men are delicate and torn.
Some men will steal your bracelet if you let them spend the night.
Some men will want to fuck your poems, and instead they find you.
Some men will say, “I’d like to see how you look when you come,” and then hail a cab.
Some men are a list of ingredients with no recipe.
Some men never see you.
Some men will blindfold you during sex, then secretly put on heels.
Some men will try on your black fishnet stockings in a hotel in Rome, or Saran Wrap you
to a bedpost in New Orleans.
Some of these men will be worth trying to keep.
Some men will write smugly condescending reviews of you work, making you remember
these lines by Frank O’hara:
I cannot possibly think of you/other than you: the assassin/of my orchards.
Some men, let’s face it, really are too small.
Some men are too large, but it’s not usually a deal breaker.
Some men don’t have one at all.
Some men will slap you in a way you’ll like.
Some men will want to crawl inside you to die.
Some men never clean up the matter.
Some men hand you their hearts like leaflets
and some men’s hearts seem to circle forever: you catch sight of them on clear nights,
bright dots among the stars, and wait for their orbits to decay, for them to fall to earth.
—  “The Matter,” Kim Addonizio
Life or Death (Vamp!Hamilton x Male! Reader)

Words: 3800+

Request: Vampire Hamilton x Male!Reader

Warnings: forced courting, blood, 

A/N: hi, i got carried away, but here you go. enjoy me being extra without any spell check because im too lazy

Part 2


Hamilton wiped the corner of his lips, and placed his thumb in his mouth, licking the rest of the stray plasma off. He looked at the young woman on the ground, and grinned at the color leaving her body. He threw her over his shoulder, trying to find a spot to hide the body. He looked at the burning candles outside homes, enticing him to go and check to see what’s wrong. Instead, he forced his eyes away, searching for an open field. He spotted on, and ran, quickly making it there in a few seconds. He dug through the mulch with his bare hands, and threw the woman in the hole.

“You know, miss, your blood was quite bitter. Have you been drinking?” He said to the body, waiting for a response he was sure was not coming. He sighed, running his hands through his brown hair. “Will you not answer me? Fine, I will answer for you. Yes, you have, and yes, you should have listened to your father and stayed home tonight. It is a shame, you were a beautiful one.” He began kicking the dirt into the cavity, watching it cover her now blue cheeks.

“Too bad you were naïve. That is rather unattractive, you know. Men like a woman with intelligence.” He paused, “well, for certain some sort of reasonable thinking. Can’t have your partner running off with another, right?” He fully covered her body, and reached down, patting the dirt flat. “I am puzzled, though. You told me that someone was waiting for you at home. Yes, I was paying attention. Your screams are distracting, but I could tell what you were thinking. Now that, that was fascinating.”

There was yelling behind him, and he stood up, looking at torches approaching the field. He sighed, rubbing his face. “See, I told you to stop yelling. Now I must deal with townspeople chasing after me. What a shame.” Hamilton began to run, glancing back once at the bumpy dirt.

“Well, that is not inconspicuous at all.”

~

You cursed, spilling your ink jar on your work. “For the life of me, I cannot understand why my limbs are so ungainly.” You mumbled, reaching for an ink-stained towel that you kept next to you in your study. You pressed it on the table, waiting for the ink to seep into it. You heard your door open, and turned around, seeing your mother standing there.

“Good morning, mother. How are you?” She smiled, walking in. She placed a kiss on the top of your head, looking at the table.

 “I am well. But it seems like you are having an interesting morning. What have I told you about spilling the ink, Y/N? We cannot afford to continue to buy you one every fortnight. Please be careful son.”

“I know, but my arms seem to fling out whenever I come up with a new idea.” You looked at the piles of paper on your desk, then looking back at your mother. “I have not slept in a few days.” She frowned, hitting the top of your head with a rolled-up newspaper. You winced, leaning away from her.

“I will hit you once more if I see that you have not had a day’s rest. But for now, I have someone here for you.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and you groaned, placing your head on the desk. “Y/N, what are you doing? Did you forget about the ink?” You quickly picked your head up, and touched your forehead. You stared at your fingers, seeing the black.

You were such an imbecile.

“How am I supposed to show this young woman her suitor when you have a mark in the middle of your forehead?” She placed her fingers on her temple, rubbing it in circle motions. “You are going to be the death of me.” You grinned, jumping up from your chair. She widened her eyes at your quick movements, and you kissed her cheek, running your hands through your hair.

“This is the perfect ensemble for a courtship. I will meet with her promptly.” Before your mother could grab your arm, you were already out your door, sliding on the rail to get down the staircase quicker. Your momentum was too fast, and you immediately landed face down, the hardwood floor probably bruising your cheeks. “Perfect.” You whispered, satisfied with your decision.

You told your parents countless times that you would find love on your own. But they continued to insist that you court an eligible woman, someone who would carry the title of yours well. Of course, you could care less about how much money your partner would have, but they cared.

They cared immensely.

Since you could not convince them of your views, you made sure to meet your suitors with the worst manners and personality, making sure they would hate you to your core. And so far, it had been working well.

You walked into the parlor, a little wobbly. You saw the woman sitting there, wearing the finest silks and jewelry. You rolled your eyes at the attire, clearing your throat. She turned around, her gaze meeting yours. “Hi, miss,” You said, holding out your hand, “I am Y/N. A pleasure to be of acquaintance.” She placed her hand in yours, and you kissed it lightly. She took her hand out of yours immediately. You could tell she was disgusted at your outfit, and your stomach swelled with glee.

Step one: complete.

“Um, sir, do you need more time to get dressed? I can wait here.” She said, a sweet smile on her face. You felt guilty for treating her this way, but it needed to be done. You needed to teach your parents about how you felt.  

“Is there something wrong with my attire?” You glanced down at your clothes innocently, looking back at her. She shook her head.

“Ah, no, sir. You look handsome.” This time, she did not smile. “Would you like to dine here? My father has caterers that are on their way.”

“Well, Miss…” You waited for her name, and she blushed, looking at the ground.

“Oh, I apologize. I am Anna Vermont.” She said, smiling at you. You nodded.

“Yes, Anna. I was thinking that we should go to a nearby park. It would get us to connect more, without the stares of our parents. Do you agree?” She hesitated, and you heard stomping behind you. Fingers dug into the skin of your arm, and you looked down, seeing the anger on your mother’s face. You smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

She looked at you, fuming.

If this woman was not here, she would have killed you.

“I am sorry, Anna, but my son has not slept well in the last few nights, and he needs some rest. Do you mind if we postpone this visit for another time?” Anna nodded quickly, gathering her things off the furniture. She looked too eager to go, and you knew you were never going to see her again.

You grinned.

Mission accomplished.

“Yes, that would be best. Y/N, nice to meet you. I will see you soon.” She curtsied to the two of you, and you walked her to the door. Once the two of you were outside on the porch, she turned to you, a sneer on her face. “What a poor excuse for a man. You do not even know how to greet a lady properly. I am sorry for the maiden who seeks your hand in marriage.” You raised your eyebrow.

That was a quick change in personality.

“Sure, Anna. I hope you can find a man who tolerates a gossiping woman. I heard that you were spotted at a brothel recently. Do you have an excuse for being there?” You said, grinning.

“Excuse me, sir, but doesn’t that seem-“

“Have a wonderful day, Anna. I hope to never see you near me again.” You shut the door in her face, turning to see your livid mother standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. You gave her a cheesy grin, and she hit you with the same piece of paper. You pouted, holding your face. “Mother, you are going to damage this handsome face. Then no one will stand to look at me.”

“I cannot stand to look at you right now, Y/N. How dare you speak to that woman in such a manner? I know your father raised you better than that.” She said, “Do you not want to have a wife? Do you not want to have children, to pass the family name down? Is this why you are so troublesome?”

There was a multitude of questions thrown at you, and you frowned. “Mother, you know why I refuse to meet with these women. I want to fall in love on my own, and I cannot do that with a lady who enters the house to just collect my money and live a life of luxury. I want someone who cares about me, who wants to sit outside and gaze at the stars at night. Someone who loves this clumsy man, who would give up the world to be by my side. Is that too much to ask for? For someone to love me for who I am?” You questioned, and her stern expression relaxed, and she placed her hands back to her sides.

“Love is such a childish emotion, Y/N. You should live in the real world. I did not marry your father because I loved him, I married him because he was the one my parents wanted me to marry. And I grew to love him. You can do that too.”

“How can you tell me that? How can you tell me to learn to love someone? I cannot force myself to convey an emotion.”

“Then you will never be wed.” She stated simply. “Is that what you want your life to be? Staying as an angry old man without someone to sit in a rocking chair next to you?”

She was not listening to a word you were saying. Seeing that this fight would never be won by you, you nodded slowly. “I guess I might as well sit on a pile of money and use it to wipe my a-“

“Y/N, if that word comes out of your mouth-!” You ran past her, grabbing your satchel.

“I’ll be back soon, mother.” She was able to catch you this time, and she reached into her pocket, taking out a small glass bottle.

“Here, just in case you run into a vampire, toss salt on the ground. They will unable to resist counting each one.” You shook your head at her superstitious nature, but took the bottle anyway, tucking in in your front pocket. “I’m serious, Y/N. A woman was killed yesterday-”

“See you later. I’ll be home a few hours after nightfall.” She sighed.

“Be safe, my son. I’ll be waiting for you to get home.” She kissed your cheek, squeezing your hand. You did the same, running out the door.

~

Hamilton paced the sidewalks, looking at the groups of people walking down the blocks. He had his hands tucked in his slacks, scanning the crowd for his next victim. As he was distracted, a hard force hit the side of him. He stiffened, freezing in his spot. He looked to his side, seeing a man on the ground. He raised his eyebrow at the mark on his forehead. Why would anyone leave their house in such condition?

The man on the ground moaned, holding his head. He was lying back, staring at the sky. Hamilton stared at him. Why did he not get up yet?

After a few moments, the man struggled to get up, with no help from Hamilton. He jumped once, looking at Hamilton. He gave Hamilton a crooked smile, his hair a mess. “Sorry, I was distracted and I was running. Such a bad combination, don’t you agree?” The man said, rubbing the side of his head.

Hamilton stared at him, silent. There were many thoughts running through his mind, most filled with his need for the substance pumping in this man’s veins. The man’s scent was different from others, much sweeter and mouthwatering. The man coughed, noticing Hamilton’s gaze on his neck.

He found his next victim.

Hamilton smiled, holding out his hand.

~

“Alexander Hamilton. A pleasure to meet you.” The brown-haired man said, his eyes crinkling. You looked at the outstretched hand. Now he offered his hand to you?

You took it nonetheless, shaking it once. “Nice name. Very strong and masculine. Mine’s Y/N, my mother gave it to me.” You said, immediately regretting it. Goodness, your mother was right: talking and writing words were two very distinct things.

The man’s smile never left his face, and you could not help but notice how attractive he was. His face was well-structured, and his hands were soft. You blushed at the very crude images forming in your head. You tightened your eyes, forcing them out of your brain. You stared at the man. There was something off about him, especially the smile that has not left his face for the past minute or so.

You shrugged off your doubts, nodding at the man once. It was getting dark outside, and you needed to be home before your mother sent out search parties for you. “Well, I better be on my way. It is getting quite late, and I need to be home.”

Hamilton’s smile never left, but it turned into a smirk. “Ah, is your wife waiting?” He asked, and you noticed an edge to the statement. You shook your head at him, slowly walking forward.

“I’m not married, um, Alexander. And I only wish to be married to someone I love, not someone who is forced to marry me. How about you?” You asked, noticing that he began walking next to you. You tensed up.

“I was married, once. Her name was Eliza Schuyler. She died recently.” He said, leaking out some emotion with that statement. His face dropped when he said her name, but he shook out of it instantly, looking back at you. “It was a murder, someone killed her.” His fists tightened. “They staked her because they believed she was a vampire. How idiotic.”

You did not realize the way this conversation was going, and you regretted asking him about himself. Vampires? He sounded like your mother. It was not that he was not an interesting person, you just felt like you should run in the other direction. The street was empty, the two of you walking alone.

“I am sorry for your loss. Please send my condolences to you and yours. I better be on my way, Alexander. Nice to meet you.” You began jogging. After a few moments, you glanced back, noticing that he disappeared from the street. “Hmm, where did he go that fast?” You turned back, bumping into a man once more.

You face was throbbing, and you knew you would have bruises all over your body by tomorrow. You looked up from the ground, seeing Alexander in front of you. Your heart dropped.

Was he not just behind you? How did he get there so quickly?

“Ahh, Y/N. You did not let me finish my story. How can you leave before that?” His irises were pitch black, and you widened your eyes. What this man on some sort of substance? Was he sick?

“Are you okay, Alexander? You look pale and your eyes are dark. Would you like me to walk with you to the nearest hospital?” The smile on his face dropped, and his gaze flicked between your eyes, confusion on his face.

“I am fine. You should be concerned for yourself right now.” He grinned, showing sharp incisors protruding from his lips. You scrambled back, now terrified. You struggled to get off the ground, but finally did, hopping onto your feet. He walked slowly towards you, his hands behind his back. “You are a really interesting fellow, Mr. Y/N. Why aren’t you running? You know, the chase is always fun.” He winked at you, and you could have sworn you almost urinated.

Almost.

“Um, hey! Officer!” You yelled, looking behind Hamilton. Hamilton whipped his head around, and you ran full speed, almost tripping over your own feet.

~

Hamilton turned back, seeing that the man was already a few hundred feet ahead of him. He grinned, licking his lips. He crouched down on the ground, touching the place where your blood dripped off a scratch. He rubbed it between his pinky and thumb, looking up at your retreating figure. He sniffed it once, then licked his digits, standing back up.

This will be fun. He thought.

~

You were panting, unable to run any further. You cursed at your body, looking for anywhere to hide. You noticed a pub that was open, and dragged yourself over. Before you could open the door, the ponytailed man stood in front of you, his arms crossed against his chest.

“You are a runner? Have you ran away from vampires before?”

You suddenly remembered the salt in your pocket, and took it out, throwing it on the ground. He widened his eyes, looking at you.

“Oh no. You sick human, you-“ He crouched down, unable to resist counting the grains of salt. You smiled, and you heard a chuckle come out of the man on the ground. He stood back up slowly, raising his eyebrow at you. “That is just folklore, my friend. And by the way, that makes no sense. Why would my weakness be salt? Did you try to bring garlic too? What about iron, do you have that in your bag?”

Even though you were in a life-or-death situation, you could not help the tone that came out of your mouth. “You are a really terrible being. Why are you so pompous? Are you going to kill me already? Because your talking might kill me instead.” Hamilton grabbed you by the neck, pulling you behind the cottage. He held you against the wall, the whites of his eyes now completely black. This time, you took him seriously, shivering.

He glanced down at your neck, and touched it softly. He gave you a sideways grin, his eyes still trained on your pulsing vein. “You know, you have the sweetest smelling blood. As long as I have been on this Earth, I have never smelled anything like yours.” His face moved closer to your neck, and he sniffed, licking the skin.

You shivered, and definitely felt some warm liquid come. Hold yourself together. You thought.

Hamilton laughed, moving away from your neck. “You know, I think I like you.”

“What are you even saying?” You said, and he tightened his hold on your neck, and you clawed at his hand, trying to pull him off. “Stop, Hamilton. You’re better than this.” You gasped through breaths. He stopped grinning, looking at you.

“I’m sorry, have you met me before? Were we acquaintances in a former life? I’m sure I would have remembered your face.” He stated.

“It does not matter if I met you or no-“ You coughed, your head becoming dizzy. You felt his grip on you loosen, and you took a deep breath. “Thank you.” You mumbled, looking at him. The dark color in his eyes was lowered, but he still had some left. You were amazed at what he could do.

Is this a dream?

“Do not thank me, Y/N. Tell me what you were going to say. I want to know before I end your life.” He said, glaring at you. You chortled, rolling your eyes at him. He frowned. “What is so funny?”

“You. You are trying to act like this robust, threatening figure, but you are not. I can see through you.” He slammed you against the wall once, but you continued talking. “You are lonely. Even the slightest affection towards you scares you, because you have never felt that before. Everyone in your life has hated you.” He held both of his hands around your neck, his hold still the same as before.

“Shut up.” He hissed, the black slowly leaving. You were unceasing, talking again.

“I could see it when I questioned if you were alright. You immediately jumped on that sentence, it puzzling you. You need someone to care about you, and for a second, you thought it was me.”

“Stop.” He grumbled, his hold loosening. You were glad that this speech was distracting him. His fangs were still there, peeking out from his top lip.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would have killed me a long time ago. Isn’t that right-“ His teeth sunk into your neck, piercing the delicate skin. You attempted to scream, but he covered your mouth with his hand, muffling the yelling. You were going cross-eyed, you barely able to keep them open. Your hands grew limp on their sides, and he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you closer towards him. Before you passed out, you whispered one last thing.

“There is someone out there who cares about you. You just need to find t-“ Your voice faded, and your head tilted to the side.

~

Hamilton retracted his lips from your neck, looking at your pale figure. He widened his eyes, feeling something leak out of them. He touched his eyeball, and squinted at the substance.

What was this? He rolled the liquid around, and tasted it. He frowned. Tears?

You were unconscious. Hamilton did not kill you, but he drained enough blood from you to keep you alive longer. He picked you up, carrying your body bridal style. As he walked towards the town, he examined your face. You were a handsome man, no doubt about that. But you were strange as well, the ink staining your forehead, and your clothes looked like you’ve slept in them. He found a bench, and laid you across, sitting down next to your head.

As he looked at your ragged breathing from the rising and falling of your chest, he wondered what it would be like to hug you. To touch you. You were kind, even when you thought you were going to die.

He snickered, running his hands through his hair. What have you done to him? He never saved anyone, always killed his victims.

But you, you were different.

You were funny, you were intelligent (to an extent, of course), you were friendly, and you listened to him when no one else would. And you were right.

Hamilton was lonely.

He stood up, placing your satchel under your head and pulling up your collar to cover the bite mark on your neck. It would disappear in a few minutes, but he had to make sure no one saw it until then.

He took one last look at you, and then walked away, disappearing into the night.

Loot - Jim Kirk

Loot masterlist

Summary: reader is a cadet in the academy working as a hired thief to pay for tuition. reader gets caught in a sticky situation and jim and spock come to their rescue– maybe

Pairing: Jim Kirk x Reader (not yet, though)

Prompt: “You don’t have to trust me – just don’t leave me here to die.”

Word count: 2,153

Warnings: language, injuries (i guess)

A/N: i felt like writing something different. so far there’s no romance between any of the characters mostly because this is just the first part. it’ll obviously eventually have something-something but not right now. idk if i want to continue this, though, so give me some feedback n tell me if i should continue it! i personally quite like it so far! enjoy! 

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Waiting (Part 2)



@stories-from-stark-tower @allofthesearetakendafuq  @mewsiex@flightofthefantasies @emilyevanston @cassiopeiassky @buckyywiththegoodhair @beccaanne814-blog @avengerofyourheart @thewife101cevans  @lilasiannerd @brittanymcsharry @misshyen @hunters-from-stark-tower  @callmebucky-doll @learisa @hellomissmabel @avenger-nerd-mom @soymikael @always-an-evans-addict @justreadingfics 

Waiting (2/2)

Word Count: 718

Characters: Bucky/Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are dating and you’re waiting for him to return from a long mission. You have to deal with something changes to your relationship.

Warnings: Swearing (cuz it’s me)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this idea for a very long time now, though I’m not sure I’ve done it justice. It’s kind of fluffy, with a little bit of angst (maybe?)
Also, oh my, I cannot believe the response I’ve received on this. It’s been mind blowing! My heart is so full! Thank you to everyone who read it, enjoyed it, and commented on it!


The next morning, you felt physically awful - your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, they felt like sandpaper, your face was blotchy and red, and you ached all over. As much as you had wanted to stay in bed all day and pretend that yesterday didn’t happen, you had too much to do. You hadn’t done anything to prepare for this baby, waiting until Bucky returned home. Now it was moot and you had resolved yourself to do this alone.

The first thing you decided to do was to find an apartment of your own. There was no way you could live under the same roof as Bucky while having his baby. You didn’t want anyone to know what you were planning but Wanda, bless her heart, knew everything about everyone at all times.

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calltomuster  asked:

Phil gets captured on a mission. Clint leads a group of Phil's junior agent protégées to get him back.

Mid-morning sunlight streamed through the large windows of Clint’s apartment. Clint was on his back on the old purple couch with his eyes buried under one arm. Lying across his chest was Lucky, his one-eyed golden mix. Lucky was more than content to indulge his human in a long lie-in, but hushed sounds from the hallway brought the dog’s ears up to a perk.

*

Mack and Daisy stood outside Clint’s apartment. Daisy held her laptop in one hand, clicking intermittently at the keys for a moment, a frown on her lips.

“You got it?” Mack whispered.

There was a brief pause. “There’s nothing to get.” She replied, perplexed

“You mean it’s too high tech?”

Daisy shook her head. “No, I mean there isn’t anything. There’s no system…it’s just a door.” Looking a bit frustrated Daisy grabbed the door handle and gave it a jiggle. “And it’s not locked.” They both watched the door slide quietly open in bewilderment.

(Mobile users beware the Read More)

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APparently obligatory Abusive parent post since I'm home

If you’ve followed me for a while you probably know my father is a self martyring abusive dickhead specialising in emotional fuckery and feeling sorry for himself at the same time.

Seems like everytime I’m home even when I try to keep it to max once a year and 1 week tops - he manages to supply endless surprises from the fount of disgusting bullshit

So I’m staying with fam friends in NYC for a few weeks. And he’s all like we r really close friends so don’t mention private family matters financial or health etc cus gossip and then grandma worries and also I don’t want to talk about it. And I’m like ok fine. Then he’s like also if she asks about law, don’t mention anything negative. She will talk to me about it and what do I even say

So I’m like firstly you want me to fake that I don’t have depression. I’m telling you now that I can try not say negative stuff but over a month I can’t guarantee I can act like I’m constantly at the law firm / in an interview

Him: *deep sigh* I’m not asking you to FAKE anything - can you for once think about things from your parents perspective and not be so selfish????

Me: you’re telling me to not say anything negative about law. I’m depressed because of law. I can be vague up to a point. I can’t guarantee she won’t ask you anything.

Him: why do you ALWAYS MISUNDERSTAND ME I’m telling you to think about MY perspective for once you need to consider the family.

He’s such a fucking asshole I don’t know whether he is fucking aware how he sounds or not but holy fucking shit it fills me with renewed loathing so deep I cannot fickjng articulate it. He wants me to basically fake liking law for a month so that HE will “save face” and appear like a better parent. FUCK YOU YOURE LITERALLY THE REASON IM FUCKED UP. He keeps going on about how this is one of the few friends he has

Fuck you she’s not even your friend she’s mums friend you fuckjng dickhead there’s a reason no one fucking likes you.

I just cannot fucking. Everytime I come home I’m reminded why even depressed and suicidal or running out of money I would rather fucking be that than deal with my father for 1 extra second. When I kill myself he’s getting the sharpest suicide letter just so I can satisfy my hate and spite. I hope he chokes on it.

The ego and . I don’t even have the words for it. Ts next level. It’s so fucking disgusting. He’s pathetic. I hope one day I can feel apathy rather than hate because he’s not worth my energy.

anonymous asked:

My birthday is on Sunday and it always brings bitter feelings. Can I request 2D with an S/O who's not very thrilled about their birthday coming up?

Crikey, it’s my birthday on Sunday too!! Happy birthday for then, anon, I hope it’s not all bad.


You swing your legs, catching your feet on the legs of the chair, as you stare down the calendar on the wall opposite you, as through trying to out-glare it. The shimmering, printed surface faces back, completely innocent and unassuming.

Noodle had only just flipped it over onto June this morning, and something you’d been trying to ignore has suddenly sprung up to greet you.

On the 4th of June, written in big, pink, slightly smudged letters, ’(Y/N)’S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!’ is scrawled, and outlined with little black stars.

You’re going to kill whoever wrote it.

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Writers Creed Interviews: @definegodliness

Check out our second Writers Creed “Get to Know a Writer” Interview! For our second interview, we had the privilege of interviewing @definegodliness from the Netherlands. We’ve had a great time learning about what not to call him unless he’s in love with you, his writing inspirations, his past and what led him to be the writer that we have all come to love. We hope you enjoy getting to know one of your fellow writers on Tumblr. Thank you for being a part of this Mark! ❤

Writers Creed: So Mark, do you have any nicknames?
Mark: Never really had a nickname, nor have I desired to have one really. My friends usually call me by my last name, so I am very used to that. Come to think of it, only people really close to me call me Mark. I have a love/hate relationship with my own name. Which is probably why I always use M.A. Tempels as a signature. (I absolutely loathe ‘Marky’, and only if I am absolutely head over heels in love with you I will allow you to use that haha)
WC: People close to you and Tumblr it seems call you Mark haha. *notes: Marky is off limits* So should we stick to Mark? Or would you prefer something else?
M: Oh yeah sure, Mark is fine!
WC: Sounds good. So onto the first real writing question, what got you into writing?
M: Well, writing was the first thing I excelled at in elementary school, which is where my fondness for words, diction, proverbs, sayings and language overall originated. I’ve always felt that the bigger one’s vocabulary is, the easier it is to express and convey thoughts and emotions. Perhaps it is part of the desire to be seen and understood I had as a kid. I wrote and read a lot, until I was about fifteen. Then my interests shifted, as I did not believe I could ever become an author. So I stopped completely. In hindsight a bad decision, because the words kept piling up in my head, quite literally driving me crazy. Anyway, when I was about twenty-three I met a girl that I loved so much the words just started pouring out of me. In love letters, hidden notes, and texts. I started writing poetry, automatically. Returning to the sensitive kid I was and had forcefully shunned in my adolescent years. Emotions make you vulnerable, you see, and I wanted to be stoic. Cool. However, you can’t keep your cool when you love so deeply. We started writing a book together and ever since then I have been writing again. Thanks to that girl, my writer-self returned, and I still consider it a great gift. It is, and always has been, who I am. It feels good to know your role in life and to have purpose.
WC: That was such a beautiful answer, I love it. And I think we can all be grateful for that girl if she’s the one that returned your writer-self. And all of us writers are a bit crazy are we not?
M:Hahaha thank you. Everybody’s crazy, artists just use their trade to express it. Honestly, I have yet to meet a person that is completely sane.
WC: Haha true that. What happened to that book you and that girl started writing?
M: The book is still unfinished, though there are many chapters, characters and scenes already completed. In raw material, I dare say there already is an entire book. Every now and then I resume writing it, but this takes an immense toll on me, emotionally. It is very much revisiting the time I was so blissfully in love, and this inevitably leads to revisiting the hurt of loss. Then I get mournful, and filled with remorse. It always ends in tears; I had it all and I threw it all away. Even now I find it difficult to think of the time when we first wrote that book. Which is a pity, and foolish, because it truly was the happiest time in my life. I wish I could just appreciate that as it is, and look back with a thankful smile for having experienced it. I guess we all have our flaws; I am still learning.
WC: This is all very moving. We are always still learning. May I ask what happened?
M: The thing is, when you experience depression for the first time, it takes a long while of constantly thinking ‘what is wrong with me?’ You’re forcing yourself to man up; get really self-critical, because everything you normally do takes more energy. Well, robs it really. Then, the lethargy sets in and you deem yourself lazy and useless. All the while you’re in a downwards spiral, until the inevitable point of breaking. Then, with your pride and self-worth at its lowest point, you finally face the facts that you cannot do this alone and seek help. In my case, a psychologist patched me back up and I was ready to go and take on the world again. I’ve learned a lot during that time. Stopped studying Psychology, and started studying Journalism as it was more creative, and I needed to express. What I didn’t know back then is that I hadn’t dealt with an episode of depression, but that I was actually dealing with a chronic depression. So during the relationship, I felt myself going down the negative spiral again, but I didn’t know how and if I should handle it. I mean, we all get sad sometimes, but you make it through the day and the next morning you feel better. And that is what got me: for far too long I kept hoping to feel better the next morning. Then, when you do realize you are depressed, how do you tell it to the woman you love and whom makes you happier than you have ever been? I kept it all a secret. Afraid to lose her, basically. Wondering who’d want a life-sentence with a chronically depressed person. And this why I am telling this, keeping it secret, and trying to be/act 'normal; fighting(!) the depression, only made it worse and eventually lead to our breaking up. With all the knowledge I have now, I do know I would have acted differently. If we would have stayed together, of course, is a different story. Voila
WC: Wow. I may or may not be tearing up right now. I’m sorry about that :(
M: Here’s to hoping someone who needs to hear it will read it, and not make the same mistakes as I did.
WC:  Making mistakes is part of life, it’s how we learn and grow. But yes if you can learn from someone else’s mistakes is also good haha. Alright, now for the next question, what would you say you write about most? What inspires you most?
M: Love is predominant in my writing, because I have a big heart and often want to channel all that is good in me. Besides, most subjects to write about are fleeting, yet love is a thing of all times. To me, it is a touch of the eternal; something inside me that is grander than existence. What inspires me most are memories, usually they are strong emotions felt but never expressed. Through my writing I try to free them from being locked up inside me, which makes me feel lighter and far more balanced. It is kind of a thought palace being decluttered so I can move around freely again.
WC: Lovely answer. And I think you touched upon a bit on what my next question would have been, what writing means to you.
M: Purpose. As a life well lived is a life spent in exploring and making full use of one’s qualities. There is also a somewhat holistic motive here, the deep-rooted desire to be the best version of oneself as a part of the whole human experience. That on my death bed I might say, “I was never perfect, but I was the best version of me.” Regarding existential crises, writing gave me peace for that reason. Then there is the simple childlike excitement I feel when finding new words, or finally getting that sentence right that had been bugging me. Writing is exciting and makes me feel alive. Lastly, there is the therapeutic benefit; the release of ongoing thoughts and emotions, offering a sense of stability. So there you have it, to me writing means: purpose, excitement, and sanity.
WC: I think these are all great points you bring and many that people will be to relate to I am sure. When did you start writing in English?
M: Around April 2015? Little after I started having a tumblr. I believe I started with random contemplations, mostly about life. Giving purpose to a lifetime spent mostly in deep thought. This slowly evolved into poetry. I remember I was so shy and insecure about my usage of the English language back then, and even now I am still learning. But I love learning new words, that is actually why I write a lot of form poetry; when you force yourself to rhyme or limit yourself to a certain amount of syllables, the dictionary and thesaurus become your best friend.
WC:I totally agree with learning new words, such a good thing for anyone, especially for a writer. So before that you wrote only in your language?
M: Yes, and never poetry. Well, not consciously, I mean. In hindsight I did write love poems to my then girlfriend before that
WC: That’s really cute, love how the mind works haha. Ok, next question: Did anything interesting or bizarre happen to you because of writing? Like any cool stories related to the fact that you write?
M: Above all writing has given me the opportunity to come in contact with a vast array of sensitive, creative people; curious, open-minded, and intelligent souls, really. Which has lead to marvelous philosophical conversations about life, love, empathy, and the esoteric wonders of being. As often with like-minded souls, the connection within the conversation is so strong that it becomes almost tangible. Which is remarkable and an interesting subject to explore in itself. Speaking of like-minded souls: of course the most wonderful and exciting that has happened is that I have met my girlfriend Kristina through writing on here. After all, if I had never picked up writing, especially in English, I would have never met her. And what are the odds that a Dutch guy suddenly decides to write poetry, and in English as well… and on Tumblr of all places! But we found each other, and as a writer, I am blessed to have a partner that understands creative processes. That the poet and the person can operate entirely independent, and are not to be mistaken for each other. I believe people often forget this: how you write doesn’t depict who you are. Emotions aren’t literal, and words are but a limited vessel to convey their intricacy. What I try to achieve with my poetry is to either express how I feel, or (like I said before) because I want to channel all that is good and loving in me.
WC: Your answers are always spot on! Tell us a fun fact about you before we finish this interview.
M: I love doing impersonations, or rather make up characters and I am quite good at it! My natural voice is quite low, but I can bend it to reach many different pitches. I also very much like doing different accents. My favourite one right now is 'the pretentious, overly dramatic poet’. I love starting dread filled sentences with an exaggerated prolonged “oh”. I also can whistle melodically in four different ways; normal, two different ways through my teeth, and one using both of my thumbs. The sense of accomplishment when I first learned to whistle as a kid is one of my earliest memories. Et voila!
WC: Hahaha amazing! 👏👏👏Thank you for doing it!
M: I had fun!

anonymous asked:

Nonono i didn't meant spooning in public, it was like caught them By surprise in private, in sorry if my English is bad :(

You got it! Sorry this took so long.

GLADION AND S/O CAUGHT CUDDLING:

  • you really should be leaving for the league but ugh gladion will not leT YOU GO!!!
  • i imagine he’s like the reluctant waker in the morning
  • “stay home today”
  • Pulls you back down into his embrace tbh.
  • You both… end up cuddling for like 15 more minutes on the couch.
  • You can’t!!! Say no!!! To him!!!
  • Really, you’re both lucky it’s just Hau. I mean, imagine if it was anyone else tbh!
  • Hau makes like that OH! face where he just realised something that was obvious to everyone else.
  • “You’re together?!?!?!”
  • Gladion is completely unapologetic on the outside but an embarrassed stuttery mess on the inside.
  • You actually wouldn’t have suspected it if you couldn’t feel his heartbeat through his chest.
  • *singing* can you feel~ my heartbeat?
  • Gladion shifts so that you’re between Hau and himself hiding his reddened face in your hair.
  • From like an outsider’s point of view, he’s being petulant and refusing to deal with the situation.
  • You know better though…
  • THE POOR BOY CANNOT COPE WITH THE EMBARRASSMENT.
  • You need to take one for the team then.
  • You get up and drape a blanket over him and kiss him goodbye, telling him you hope he feels better and that you’ll check on him later so that Hau will think he’s got a cold.
  • “Well, at least Hau knows now.” You tell him later that night.
  • He throws a pillow at you.
  • It becomes a full fledged pillow fight which leads to more cuddles.
  • Gladion forgets about it the next morning.

anonymous asked:

Where do you live in the US? Would you let a little on here come to visit you or if they were in town would you have dinner or tea with them? ✨

MISTER 101 - Transparency in effect

This has been a rather interesting topic in therapy lately…  anyone who has been around here long enough knows the struggles I face with my anxiety, agoraphobia and paranoia complex. And its a real shame that when someone who doesnt know better hears “agoraphobia” and thinks that youre some kind of unabomber type, held up in a cabin with the windows boarded up.

thats simply not true. 

it comes in all forms.. and mine is acute, mainly dealing with overcrowded places, situations I cannot control, things that are unfamiliar to me, being surrounded by people, etc… I go places (certain places) at least, just fine.

My new therapist has been working above and beyond his means to both help me and get to a point where I wont need him anymore. Thats the goal, as its always been.

A hot topic lately is me “getting back out there”

Its been a long time since I have been able to truly be myself, (years) with a little or sub, etc. years since i have been touched in an intimate way that wasnt a condolence over death or simple family expressions. Years since I have stood in front of someone with my belt wrapped in my hands, or rope.. or even just the feeling of being dominant over someone who willingly gave their submission to me.

And as such, and in order to see the limits to which I could get to.. my therapist did a cognitive regression test kind of thing on me. He is convinced that if I could find someone within the lifestyle who I can relate to, meet and perhaps even engage in scene with… it may do a number of things, including triggering me back to a time before the issues took hold and maybe even waking that part of me back up enough to keep me there and essentially…”cure” me.

Now, these are long term goals… but recently ive been working hard on the baby steps so to speak. 

baby steps that would bring me to a place where I could actually leave the safe zone around my house, venture out to somewhere, and meet with someone… even if for an hour at the least… and I think I am ready for that. 

So to answer your question... yes, I would. but that person would need to be incredibly patient with me, understand my limits… and also understand that I may be able to stay an hour.. I may only be able to stay a few minutes. It may be in a park, and it may need to be in a hotel room. Noone is allowed in my house, and in the last handful of years only my therapist and brother have been allowed in for short amounts of time. Otherwise, its been… emergency situations.

I dont even get my mail here. I dont even keep my ringer on… my groceries get delivered and left on my porch. Its all incredibly taxing… its all incredibly complicated. 

So appropriations must be made… 

Whether its just a cup of coffee or waxing philosophy… it would be a great pleasure to meet with someone who I could truly be myself with… but the road to getting there isnt just a hop and a skip, its a journey… and one that some days i feel absolutely ready for, and others I feel like running away from.