i tagged you to taunt you

The way you said “I love you.“

Some fluffy, some angsty prompts

  1. As a hello
  2. With a hoarse voice, under the blankets
  3. A scream
  4. Over a cup of tea
  5. Over a beer bottle
  6. On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair
  7. As a thank you
  8. As an apology
  9. When baking chocolate chip cookies
  10. Not said to me
  11. With a shuddering gasp
  12. When we lay together on the fresh spring grass
  13. In a letter
  14. A whisper in the ear
  15. Loud, so everyone can hear
  16. Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble
  17. When the broken grass litters the floor
  18. From very far away
  19. With no space left between us
  20. As we huddle together, the storm raging outside
  21. Over your shoulder
  22. Muffled, from the other side of the door
  23. Through a song
  24. Without really meaning it
  25. In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep
  26. Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave
  27. A taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at your lips
  28. When I am dead
  29. Slowly, the words dripping from your tongue like honey
  30. Too quick, mumbled into your scarf
  31. In awe, the first time you realised it
  32. In a way I can’t return
  33. On a post-it note
  34. Before we jump
  35. As a goodbye
Bad Boy (Part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Excessive use of pet names, mentions of bruises and small cuts, oral sex (fr), unprotected sex, slight spanking, instead of his metal arm Buck-Buck has a full sleeve of tattoos, he’s hot. This is for the second part.

Word Count: 1336.

Rating: 18+

Masterlist

So I sent ans ask for @bucky-plums-barnes Sinful Sunday about Bucky having a full sleeve of tattoos and being the kind of guy your parents always told to stay away from, @ryverpenrad said they’d write another version of this, so I’m tagging them and my wives @sexylibrarian1 and @thecrownedrose Because I love them!


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anonymous asked:

Please stop taunting me with posts that say "hey theres content you'd looooove~~~ (but it's behind a pay wall :3c)" or at the VERY LEAST tag the posts as "for patreons only" or something so I can blacklist it and move on? It makes me want to punch my monitor and it has happened in the past. (I can submit photo proof if youd like.) I don't want to hate you and I really don't want to ruin this blog for myself.

you… destroyed your own property because artists want to make a living? you torrent indie games, don’t you.

Big Brother Knows Best

Winchester x Sister!Reader // Demon!Dean

A/n: I’ve been watching old episodes and getting fic ideas so bare with me and my little shit fics. I really almost didn’t post this one.

Warnings: Blood, Dean is a demon, Angst, mentions of death, violence?

Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa   @dean-baby-Winchester  @straightasdeanwinchester@animexchocolate@fabulouslycassie@lizbeth-loves-bobear @nicolesyneah25

Edit is mine

A firm hand gripped your own sweating one. Pulling you around the corner away from the taunting calls behind you.

“Can’t run from me forever, Sammy.” The voice speaking wasn’t that of your brothers, rather something entirely opposite. “And pulling our little sister into this wild goose chase? Not hardly fair at all.”

Words couldn’t express how badly you wanted to rush into your oldest brothers arms. Beg him to come back to you and be the man you knew he was. Every part of you knew Sam would keep you as far away from him as he could. He’d throw himself in between the two of you if it came down to it. No questions asked.

Your mind was snapped back into the current events when Sam grabbed hold of your shoulders and shook you.

“Hey, don’t zone out. Not now.” Taking a giant gulp of fear you nodded shakily. “Go.” His head nudged in the direction of a closed door.

“What? Are you out of your damn mind? I’m not leaving you here to get your head whacked off by our demonic brother.” With your right hand you held on tightly to his left arm. Just above his wrist.

“I’m right behind you, Y/n.” There was no use arguing with him. He wasn’t going to allow you to stand there next to him.

A bad feeling rested in the pit of your stomach. In every horror movie you watched when somebody said they’d be right behind someone, they were always lying. And they usually always ended up dead.

Bright red flashing lights beamed from unknown areas of the bunker, startling you. Just as your hand reached out to open the door it was swung open. Sam was breathing heavily and pushing you onward to continue running.

Dean was always the brother you thought to go to first when something is wrong. It was a natural feeling of pure protection when you were around him. Now he was hunting you down in your own home.

“Come on guys! Lets have a nice long chat. Crack a beer…go over things.” Hearing how carefree and reckless Dean was just in his voice shattered you.

The hallways seemed to be long and endless. Like a a giant maze. You had no idea which turn would lead to where, but you followed on the direct path Sam pushed you on. After all, big brother knows best. Your small scared body was shoved into a door which was locked after your entry.

Sam? Sam, open the damn door!” This particular door was the only one hidden in the bunker. It was a secret escape route Cas and Sam discovered after Dean had bailed off with his new demon buddy, Crowley. The one way he had no knowledge of.

Heavy but slightly silenced breathing came from the other side of the metal sliding door. “You need to get out of here, Y/n. I won’t let him hurt you.” Their was a hint of fear mixed with strength in Sam’s voice. You knew what he was planning, yet hoping he wouldn’t have to do.

“I won’t let him hurt you either! You can’t lock me up and fight for us both, Sam! He’ll kill you. He’ll take his time and enjoy it.” Every word that poured from your mouth was at a whisper. Trying to prevent Dean from catching wind of the conversation.

“That’ll leave enough time for you to bail.” Sam had no intention of leaving Dean. He never did. But you didn’t plan on leaving either of them.

“Wonder what’s behind door number three?” A booming voice roared.

The sound of an axe hitting against the once perfect door protecting Sam was being hacked apart.

“Don’t come through that door Dean! You won’t leave me any choice.” You heard something coming from Sam. Something you hadn’t heard in awhile. Defeat.

Dean merely laughed and kept hitting away. “Or what? We both know what choice you’ll have to make. And we both know what that choice will be, Sammy.” The smile on Dean’s lips could practically be heard it was so loud.

“Dean! Please stop this!” Both of your fists began beating on the door as your voice yelled as loudly as it possibly could. “Fight this sickness inside of you. I know you can.”

“Personally, Y/n. I like the disease!” Another swing of the axe. The door was practically able to be entered through.

Footsteps ran away from the door. Sam was bailing, knowing Dean would follow for the thrill of the chase.

“No! Dammit stop it!” The edges around your balled up fists began to bleed from beating on the door so violently.

Another set of footsteps trailed off in the same direction. And the chase began. You could stand by and do nothing. Demon or not, it was your brother.

Quickly you scanned the room for a way to open the door, until a bright red switch revealed itself. Instantly you flipped it and the door slid open. The moment you turned to the left to run after them both, a strong set of arms grabbed to your chest from behind while the other snaked around your lips to prevent noise from coming out. Dean. .

Fear took over your body completely. “Sh sh sh.” His words silenced the tears and the small muffled noises coming from your closed mouth. “Walk.” A sharp object was poked lightly into the center of your back, forcing you to walk.

“Call to him.” He was going to use you to draw Sam out of hiding.

“It’s a trap don’t come out-!” His firm hand regained position on your lips, forcing you to stop speaking.

Hopefully- hopefully, Sam would listen to you for once and run as far and fast as he could in the other direction from your crazed brother. Of course this wasn’t the case. Instead his figure slowly crept out from behind a corner. His eyes widened as he saw a blade being pressed hard enough to draw blood against the skin underneath your chin.

“Let her go, Dean. It’s me you want dead. Not her.” Sam did his best to try and talk Dean out of his dead set plan. Hands being held up as a sign of surrender.

“Are you kidding?” The voice behind you laughed. “Why deal with one when I can deal with both?” As his lips spread into a smile, you couldn’t see it, but you knew it was there.

“Do it.” You finally found the courage to speak.

Sam scoffed. “Y/n, shut up.”

“Do it, Dean.” You pressed against the blade willingly, drawing even more blood.

“Shut. Up.” Sam protested. Trying to get you to stop encouraging it.

“You’re not the bad guy, big brother. You’ll always be my hero. I’ll always see you as my Batman and nothing can change that.” Slowly you closed your eyes, preparing yourself to feel the skin slice open even more on your neck.

A little movement happened behind you. By some miracle Dean’s grip on you was now gone. Instead Castiel held him from behind. Eyes shinning bright as he held your furious brother.

“It’s over, Dean.”

The Great Winchester War

Pairing: Dean x reader

Prompt: Fed up, you threw the soap at him!

Words: 1250ish

Warnings: none, pranks gone wrong, suggestion of sex at the end

A/N: This is for @bkwrm523 30 prompts challenge. Late, I know, but life got in the way. But it’s here!! Sorry for being gone for so long and I hope a little Winchester banter will make it up to you. 

Edit: Big thanks and shoutout to @adriellej for betaing and helping me with this fic :D 


Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural


“Fed up, you threw the soap at him!” you exclaimed as you slammed your hand on the steel table top. “Or rather…ME!” You glared at the two adult hunters in front of you, both of them frozen in their spots, against the wall behind the older Winchester a greasy splash and a bar of soap scattered across the floor. With a huff you marched off towards the library, leaving a wet trail behind, pulling your soaking wet clothes from your body.

Their miniature prank war had been going on all week. It all started with a snarky comment from Dean and a pair of scissors. He may have gotten a little too close to Sammy’s hair with the metal blades, chopping off some of the edges by accident and sending his little brother into a fit. A lot of apologies and a haircut later you thought that would be the end of it.

It was not.

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The Lost Princess || Part 1

Summary: Two families joined kingdoms. One kingdom was falling apart while the other had unfortunate wealth that they could offer. Their oldest children became the best friends getting to know and grow up together, but after a terrible incident they didn’t get that chance anymore. (Royal AU)

Warnings: Mentions of disappearing, some fluff, guilt, sad

Word Count: 2,399

Pairing: Tom Holland x Princess!Reader

A/N: Hope you like it tell me what you think. : )

~The Lost Princess Masterlist~

~Masterlist~


“Mummy I’m bored!” You whined tugging on your mother’s dress. She was holding your sister Charlotte’s hand. She was in the dinning hall with your mother discussing something with the Hollands. They were a well loaned family who ruled over the whole kingdom of Thames. 

“Well why don’t you go play with Thomas, I’m sure he’d be delighted to play with you” Your mother bent down to your small frame face to face.

“I can’t find him” You frowned.

“Last I saw him, Thomas was in the garden” Nicola told you nodded her head with a smile.

“Thank you” You responded curtsying then hurrying off as fast as your small legs could take you.

“No running!” You heard your mother shout, but you were already out of earshot.

“Children” Your mother shook her head at Nicola.

“I just let them be, after all they are just kids, they won’t stay young forever” Nicola reminded her rubbing her swollen stomach. You were 10 and Thomas was 11, and your little sister was 9, yet your mother never let her join any franctics you and Thomas did. Too afraid she’d hurt herself. 

You ran down the long corridors and approached the big brown doors that led to the garden out back. You walked outside, nothing but fresh air hitting your nose.

You walked towards the massive fountain in the center and sat on its edge. You turned you’re head everything direction trying to locate your best friend. 

“Boo!” You got startled almost falling back into the water.

“Thomas that’s not funny!” You slightly shoved him.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help it” He offered a small smile.

“Well you nearly scared me half to death” You crossed your tiny arms.

“I won’t do it again” He muttered.

“Promise?”

“Promise” He smiled. You weren’t convinced though, you raised up your pinky. 

“Promise?” You asked again.

“I promise” He rolled his eyes but wrapped his pinky around yours anyways.

“Good” Your grumpy state now turned into a happy one.

“Let’s play tag!” You stood up excited.

“Alright…you’re it” Thomas tapped your shoulder.

“Hey no fair!” You called after him as he entered the arch entry into the garden.

“Catch me if you can!” He taunted. You ran in after him. The garden wasn’t your favorite place to be. To many turns to memorize your way around the paths.

You continued running behind him almost getting close enough to tag him, that is until he took a sharp right and you lost all sides of him. You continued to try to find him but ended up with no such luck. You were getting scared.

“Thomas!” No reply.

“Thomas you know I don’t know my way around! This place is like a maze!” You cried out.

“Thomas!” If you weren’t crying then you certainly were now.

Upon hearing the sound of you weeping Thomas came out from his hiding spot. Suddenly feeling bad that he made you cry.

“Y/N…”

You turned around seeing him standing behind you.

“I’m sorry” He bowed his head down.

“You know I get lost” You sniffled.

“I’m sorry” He came up to your and hugged you. You slowly returned the hug.

“I know what’ll cheer you up”

“What?” You mumbled.

“Let’s play hide in seek. You hide and I’ll try to find you, and if I can’t find you, you get half of my pie for dessert” He smiled.

You pondered the idea for a few seconds. “Deal” You both shook on it.

“Okay I’ll start counting” Thomas turned around putting his right arm over his eyes leaning forward against a wall.

“One”

“Two”

“Three”

“Four”

You giggled and ran off to find the best hiding spot. You kept running through the endless paths trying to decide where the best place he could never find you would be. You were getting lost within the garden not knowing where you were going.

“Forty-five”

Forty-six” You could faintly hear his voice counting.

“Forty-seven”

“Forty-eight”

You came upon a gate that led into a forest. You’ve never seen this part of the garden before, then again you could hardly find your way around and out. You were curious but scared. Yet your 10 year old mind decided against that fear and used it as a way to have a better hiding spot. You looked behind you and then outside the gate. What better place for Thomas not to be able to find you than not being in the garden. You thought. You opened the gate and took a step forward closing the gate behind you. 

To your right there just so happened to be a bush. Perfect. You thought. You went behind it not thinking much about it and crouched down. You could barely hear Thomas finishing counting to one hundred. 

“Ready or not hear I come!” 

You were trying to contain your giggles hearing him get frustrated every time he thought he had found you. He had passed you more than once going to look some place different.

“You’re better at this than I thought!” You head him shout.

“But luckily for you I don’t give up that easily!” 

You were about to let out another giggle, but didn’t get the chance to as a white cloth was suddenly place over your mouth and nose. You didn’t know someone came up behind you. To scared to look back while trying your best to scream let alone try to breath, but all you could breath in was some sort of chemical. You screams being muffled to get Thomas attention. You trashed in the persons hold. You energy quickly vanishing. You couldn’t think straight. Everything seemed to become a blur. Before you knew it your body fell limp in their arms, but not before hearing Thomas.

“Y/N come out come out where ever you are” He sang. 

If only you could…


Thomas didn’t think he’d still be trying to find you after an hour. He was angry because he couldn’t find you and angry that you hadn’t popped out to confirm where you had been hidden.

“Y/N I give up already come out now, you win!” Thomas whined.

He wasn’t going to get a reply anytime soon.

“Y/N?” He was confused you would have eventually said something by now.

“This isn’t fun anymore!” He exclaimed.

“Fine when your done being childish come out, I’ll be inside!” He groaned out in annoyance.

Thomas walked back to the stairs in front of the fountain heading back inside. He passed a couple of the servants kindly saying hello to a few before retreating back to his room.

He stayed in there until his mother called him for dinner.

“Prince Thomas your mother sent me to inform you that dinner is ready” One of the servants told him.

“Thank you i’ll be down in a moment” He placed his shoes on his feet and descended down the stairwell.

Thomas arrived at the table and noticed that everyone was there but one, you. Your mother seemed to also noticed the empty chair beside him. “Thomas have you seen Y/N? I’ve tried looking for her to take her to her fitting but never found her”.

He furrowed his brows at her. “Is she still hiding?” He mumbled to himself.

“Hiding what do you mean?” Your mother asked.

“We were playing hide n’ seek all morning. She wouldn’t come out when I told her I gave up finding her” He shrugged not thinking much of it.

“Since morning? And you’ve haven’t found her?Your mother suddenly grew worried. “Where were you playing?”.

“In the garden”

Your mother stood up from her chair. Thomas parents and your father gazing up at her in confusion. “Darling you okay?” Your father asked your mother.

“I’m not sure, I have this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach” Your mother placed her palms on her the lower part of her stomach.

“Why might that be darling?”

“I haven’t seen our Y/N all day” She looked at your father.

“I’m sure she’s somewhere around the castle” Your father reassured her.

“It’s late out I don’t think she okay. My little girl isn’t okay!”

“Martha I’m sure she is okay” Nicola spoke up.

Thomas was watching the adults back and forth. He was confused. He didn’t understand why you mother thought you weren’t okay. He was starting to believe that you weren’t okay.

“Thomas when did you last see Y/N?” Nicola asked her son.

“We were in the garden. She started crying because she always has trouble finding her way around. I tried to cheer her up by suggesting we play hide n’ seek. I started counting and she hid. I couldn’t find her after an hour” Thomas frowned. The four adults looked at the child.

“You don’t think she could have gone out the gate!” Your mother placed a hand out her mouth.

“No Y/N’s too smart to do that. We have told her many times how dangerous it is” Your father shook his head.

“I still think it’d be best to send a search party” Dominic suggested.

“I’ll get right on it!” You father walked off with him.

“Oh if anything happens to my little girl” Your mother hugged Nicola.

“Don’t worry well find her” Nicola gently rubbed her back.

“Mama I’m scared” Charlotte hugged your mother’s legs.

“Well find her Char” Your mother bent down to caress your sisters cheek.

In that moment Thomas knew he shouldn’t have left you alone. He knew that you weren’t going to be found. He knew his only best friend was gone. 

Days went on yet still no trace of you ever being there at all. Those days turned to weeks. Weeks turned into months. And those months turned into 10 years.

Thomas grew up without you. His childhood was spent trying to get to know your sister and befriend her as she was next in line to the throne and your replacement for the marriage arrangement. It was the only solution to finally get the kingdoms together.

Your mother felt numb for the first two passing years. She lost her first daughter. Charlotte had grown into a young woman without her big sister. She felt disappointed in herself for letting that happen to you. It was hard enough that her own mother told her at one point she would screw up in her life. That she wouldn’t be the proper queen along side her husband. So when you just disappeared one day she felt as though this was some sort of punishment placed upon her. Your mother started believing that this was the screw up that was bound to happen to her. She shut down for a while but bounced right back to take care of your sister, after all she needed a mother and that was what she was going to be. But oh how she missed you dearly.

Tom fell into the same sort of state your mother had been. But his state was filled with guilt and self blaming. He felt responsible for your disappearance, yet after everyone kept telling him it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t get past the fact that you gone. He didn’t think he would be the last one you see you. He just wished he could reverse time and have you back by his side. As much as he adored your sister Charlotte she wasn’t you. Nor never will she ever be.

“Prince Tom we need to get your prepped for the ball tomorrow” The seamstress grabbed his attention.

“Oh my apologies”

“Nonsense your highness, no need to be sorry” He smiled at the old lady.

“Arms up” She set to work.

Getting measured and going over different varieties of colors and fabrics weren’t really his thing, it was mostly your thing.

Hours of standing up straight and arms up later he strolled down the long corridors. Stopping abruptly at a balcony that overlooked the whole garden. He could never find it in him to step foot in garden, not after what happened to you.

“Tom darling shouldn’t you be send out invitations?” Nicola approached her son.

“I thought Harry and Sam were up to that?”

“No they off doing god knows what” She chuckled.

He smiled at his mum.

“What’s on your mind sweetheart” She rubber his shoulder.

Tom shook his head. “I miss her” He whispered. 

“I know. We do too” She gave a small smile.

“If only I suggested to play something else she wouldn’t have been taken” He laughed dryly.

“Thomas Stanley Holland it is far from your fault do you understand. What happened to Y/N was an accident. Okay stop worrying”.

“Stop worrying?! Mum it still feels as though I’m still trying to find her and she’s winning by a long shot. You speak of her as if she was never here to begin with!” He gazed at his mother in disbelief.

“It was in the past Tom. This is the present, we live on our lives in the now not the past”.

“You’re right mother. We do live in the now. So I’m am now going to make an announcement to the villagers”.

“What are you going on about?”

“If they return or find our lost princess we’ll reward whoever brings her in with 30,000 thousand dollars” His mothers eyes almost fell out of there sockets.

“Have you gone ballistic!”

“No I’ve gone sane unlike the rest of you who won’t do anything!” You huffed out.

“We did do something! We’ve looked high and low for her over the years! We tried to bring her back!” Nicola exclaimed.

“You didn’t try enough!” He started walking away.

“And what do you think the outcome of this will be?”

“I’ll get my Y/N back! If any of the villagers think they’ve found her then they can present the girl to me and I’ll ask them questions from there” He said with determination.

“Don’t stress yourself son. You already have a finance to be. And a wedding to plan for”

“Not yet I don’t” Tom walked off leaving his stunned mother behind.

Permanent Tags:

@siennarossi @monsis-world @onceuponateenpanwolfian @maria96bvb @the-quakson-clackson @hannahweeks @teen-river-wolf @totallyrandomfandomfangirl @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1@daringbanshee @decaffeinated-fangirl @love-feels-like-loneliness @clean-and-claire @fireismysaftey @smazztastic

yamazaki

I told myself I was done writing reader fics but bang yongguk’s mv got me feeling some kind of way and I wrote this

and it’s unfinished, never to be finished and I just wanted to share my frustrations I’m sorry

maybe I'll finish it some day but hey have some almost yongguk smut that had the potential to get kinky as fuck :)))))


Originally posted by yamazakibang

The doors of the estate slide open to reveal a tall, dark Bang Yongguk, his kimono styled jacket open, displaying the art that decorates his torso, from the intricate swirls and patterns from the two eyes with a glare enough to haunt any sane man. Bang Yongguk is nothing but poised grace as he saunters, his eyes cast straightforward, not looking at the men loitering around nor at the two women who follow him like shadows in the night. Yongguk nods in silent greeting to an older man standing outside, he, too was shirtless to display the ink on his skin that marks them as what they are, and the elder bows back in a sign of respect, looking away from Yongguk as he enters the building.

There’s another man standing in the doorway leading towards the meeting, clad in black attire but Yongguk sees the body ink that marks this man as one of their own, and dips his head again as another sign of greeting, smirking when the figure in black slides open the shoji doors to let the leader inside.

Fingers fiddling with the hem of his sleeve; he doesn’t need to look around the room to know that all eyes fall upon him, the men carry on laughing, smoking and drinking but each of their eyes land on Yongguk and the corner of his lip quirks up once again before he lets it falls and takes a seat at the head of the table, flicking his robe out from behind him so it falls like a curtain just as he sits. Yongguk stays quiet as the girls all situate themselves around them, most wear their kimono’s open to show their tattooed shoulders or wear the dress low enough to show the swell of their breasts to entice the men, but not for Yongguk, not tonight, not when he lazily looks to his side and spots you amongst the girls. The leader pats his knee twice, his eyes beckoning but you knew better, the gesture was a demand and you flush under his gaze and the glares of the girls as you slowly rise, adjusting your own attire as you walk over to where Yongguk lounged, and you don’t sit on his knee exactly but you place yourself directly behind him where the man leans back against your shoulder in response and places a large hand on the bare skin of your thigh.

Keep reading

A RichJake Fanfic

‘Ow.’ was the first thing Rich thought when he woke up. ‘Fucking shit, that hurts.’ Was the next.

The next thing he thought was ‘What the fuck?’ when he saw the tubes connecting him to an oxygen bag. Then he saw the scars. The scars etched into his skin, reminding him of what happened. The scars that, he knew from the moment he saw them, would taunt him forever.

He expected a shock. One that would make him stand up straighter, make him open his eyes up more, make him smile. It never came.
He expected the voice in his head telling him ‘No Richard, that’s wrong.’ and ‘Do that Richard, not that.’ It wasn’t there anymore. All that was left was the occasional glitch.

He sat up. That was all he could do, lying in a hospital bed with no TV nearby, or phone. He blinked. It became apparent that no, the fire wasn’t a dream.

‘Oh fuck, what did I do?’ Was the last distinguishable thought that popped into his head. Then, they became a blur. ‘How much damage did I do?’ ‘Is everyone ok?’ ‘IS JAKE OK?’

“Oh my god, Rich is awake!” The voice broke him out of his approaching anxiety attack. Whipping his head around, (which he realised was a bad idea after feeling the pain from his settling scars) Rich realised that it was Jeremy Heere’s friend… he couldn’t remember the kid’s name, who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello? Rich? RICH?” The boy said as he ran over to him, flailing his arms infront of Rich’s face.

Rich came to his senses and slapped the boy’s hands away. “WHAT?!”

The boy rolled his eyes. There was a distinct pause as the boy silently scanned him. He then sighed. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“No fucking clue.”

Another slightly sad sigh. “Michael Mell. Jeremy’s best friend.”

“Nithe to meet you.” Rich said, reaching out a heavily bandaged arm. ‘Oh shit.’ He then thought. ‘Oh holy fucking shit shrine.’

“You-”
‘Oh god please no.’
“Have a lisp?”

Rich closed his eyes in exasperation. He had forgotten about that.

“No, I jutht like thaying eth'th like that.” He grunted, sarcasm dripping from his every word.

“Jeez, dude, stop getting so defensive.” Michael raised his eyebrows, put his hands up and stepped back in defeat.

“Jutht don’t… talk about it. Pleathe?” Rich stared Michael in the eye, almost threatening him to keep going. 

“Sure bro.” Michael replied casually, probably not even noticing the baleful glance.
“So…” Michael looked down, not wanting to ask the question that was lingering on his tongue, “why’d you do what you did?” He inquired tentatively.

“Don’t,” was the answer. Rich wasn’t even sure himself.

— a month later –

The TV was on. Rich had been moved to a more open room when the doctor’s found out that he was awake. They had told him that he was “Lucky to be alive,” and that they thought he was dead. He almost wished that were true.

He wasn’t paying attention the screen. Lights flickered from it onto the bromidic, white wall as some inaudible noise hummed in the background. Rich had no idea what the yelling woman was angry about, nor did he really care. He didn’t care about much these days.

Most of his friends had come to see him. He had found out, over the past month, that they were real friends.
He and Christine had become fast friends, geeking over the newest Broadway musicals. He had discovered that he had a certain soft spot for musical theatre.  
Chloe was one of his closest friends, which was a surprise to both of the two. They had never really liked each other before, by association. She was his best friend’s ex, he was her ex’s best friend. However, it had all been resolved and she had helped him to paint his nails (which was double as difficult, because they had to convince the doctors that no, Dr. Beck, it’s not secretly alcohol and no, Dr. Duke, we’re not going to stain the bedsheets) and he helped her through her Physics homework, which he had always had an affinity for.
Brooke was forever kind, constantly telling him that he’s not a crusty nerd that deserves to be in the gutter.
Jenna was constantly filling him in with the latest gossip (which he didn’t care much about but he humoured her anyway) and never failed to make him laugh with her own, slightly untrue, details.
Rich could share experiences with Jeremy, about Squips. They were each others’ support for things they knew no one else would understand.
Michael was his friend. There was nothing specific they had in common, but they were the comedic relief in the time that everyone needed it.

There was only one person that wasn’t there. Everyone knew it, but no one said a thing. It would just make their absence more prominent.

'Where are you, Jake? Why haven’t you come by?’

It was a thought that ran through Rich’s head everyday. That day, it was one of the only thoughts that was there.

'Do you hate me? I know I deserve it but I need to see you. Will you hate me even more if you see the mess I really am? Will you ever forgive me?’

His face was ever there in Rich’s mind. Every time he laughed, every time he broke down. Jake was constantly haunting him.

— two months later —

He was being let out soon. At least, that’s what he had overheard when he passed their table. All of them seemed so happy, so overjoyed. So… why wasn’t he?

Jake distanced himself as much as he could. He had tried to stick to normal life. To pretend that it never happened, to pretend that people like Jeremy, Christine, Chloe and Rich had never existed. It was just Jake Dillinger against the world, and he was fine with that. Of course, he wasn’t.
He wanted nothing but to be sitting there with them, celebrating the fact that his best frie- ex best friend was almost back from hospital. He had to keep reminding himself that Rich was his ex best friend. He had incinerated his entire house, for god’s sake! But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t be mad. Rich’s face kept popping up into his head. It wouldn’t go. Whenever he pretended to laugh with his popular friends, at something that wasn’t even funny, he would start to reminisce the times when that laugh wasn’t fake, when he would be cackling like a witch at something stupid Rich had said. Then he’d mentally slap himself for being stupid, and go back to daily life.

He wished it would be different. He wished he could muster up the courage to just go to the damn hospital. But he was too scared.

'Jake Dillinger, scared?’ A voice he knew all too well said in his head. 'Now that doesn’t sound the Jakey-D I know! C'mon bro, go get 'em!’ Rich’s words from his first football game as captain echoed in his ears.
They were fake. That wasn’t Rich. That was his Squip. He had never even known Rich. At least, that’s what a tiny, vexatious voice kept whispering every single time he was close to getting in his car and driving straight up to the hospital. But Jake knew. Jake knew that the real Rich was always there, that he did know the real Rich. He had to have known him, because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t.

He was going to do it. Definitely. He just needed to… figure out how to not fuck up.

'God, this is much harder than I thought it would be.’ He thought.
'Let’s just fucking do it.’

And so Jake Dillinger cracked open the stiff, hospital door with his crutch, and saw him. He saw Richard Goranski, sitting on his creaky, $50 hospital mattress playing Mario Kart with Michael Mell. His grin was wider than Jake had ever seen it, and his hair was pushed back with sweat. He looked almost… hot. Jake then swiftly drew his crutch back, closing the door.

He took a deep breath. 'I can’t fucking do this. I should just… leave forever.’ He peered through the window of the door. Could he break such a happy, serene moment? Could he fucking buck up enough to do this?
'Yeah I fucking can!’ Jake thought, and so he slammed open the door with his crutch.

“I’ll fucking beat your ath, Michael!” Rich yelled as he revved his engine.
“Fucking try me hoe,” Michael challenged. They flashed each other grins as the race began. They were abruptly stopped however, when the ward’s door was slammed open, possibly scuffing the plain walls behind. The pair jumped in surprise, and swivelled their heads around until they could’ve been likened to owls. Standing in the doorway, with a nervous smile on his face, was the last person they could’ve expected.

Silence. For almost a solid minute, there was silence.

Then, it was broken. “Jake?”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So…. I did this? Just to be clear; I’m not a writer in any way. I did this at 12am on my phone and only wrote this because I ran out of richjake content and needed something, ANYTHING about richjake.

I don’t know if I’ll continue this. I probably will because I have no life, but I honestly have no clue. Also sorry about not having a cut…. ahahaha yeahhh I don’t know how to put one in. If anyone could tell me that would be great thanks!

If you want to get tagged in the next one then just ask! (Like anyone will want to read more of this trash but oh well I tried)

If you also have any ideas for a name that would be greeeaaat because I’m even worse at naming than I am at writing and that’s saying something also im accidentally taunting all of u expensive headphones shippers and im really sorry oops ahaha updated ao3 version: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11494200/chapters/25784262
Coming Home - Caleb Holloway (Part Three)

Author: @writing-obrien 

 Character(s): Felicia Williams, Sydney Williams, Reader 

Word Count: 3141

Notes: This is really fun and light hearted until the end, I got upset writing this because we all know what’ll be happening to Caleb in part four and part five is going to be pretty hard going. Massive thanks to my two angels, @dumbass-stilinski  and @stilinski-jpeg   Steff for her proofreading and her suggestions to keep it at the quality y'all deserve and to Nia for basically writing half this part because I had a mental block and she’s just been the absolute best. Love you both to bits!!


Originally posted by never-deserve


Keep reading

4

colored request doodles from the test stream! (twas fun y’all lookin forward to streamin during the winter break :D)

Team

A/N: For @faith-in-dean‘s BMoL challenge :)

Prompt: “It’s been so long since we’ve done anything…”

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected smut (be safe), spanking, explicit language, injuries 

Word Count: 5880

“Watch the leather.”

You gave Ketch a deep roll of your eyes, something you shot his way numerous times throughout your days together. You settled back in the passenger’s seat of his Bentley, traces of blood sticking in the black fabric of your clothes and tactical gear. You and Ketch had wrapped up another successful vampire hunt, in which you had convinced him to go about it the old fashioned way with machetes instead of using the AVD. That wasn’t any fun, and he knew you were always up for a challenge.

“Must you sass me? Hess wouldn’t be very pleased with your childish behavior,” Ketch pointed out, hands loosely gripping the steering wheel as he headed for town.

Your eyes slanted a bit in a faint glare, head turning his way. “What’re you gonna do? Write me up in a report?” You taunted him, feeling no trace of intimidation. Well, not enough to make you keep your mouth shut. For awhile, you were somewhat of an assistant to Ketch, mostly making sure his equipment and gear were ready to go, but for a few months now you’ve been able to tag along on hunts to help. He kept inviting you, and you didn’t have a reason not to join him. You actually had quite a few reasons to encourage you to go.

A small smirk tugged at Ketch’s lips, his eyes flickering over to yours briefly. “No, I wouldn’t use such a punishment on you,” he murmured before directing his eyes back in front of him.

Keep reading

Suspect: Part 5

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 2.2K
Warnings: Swearing, fighting, angst

A/N: I was intending to have Reader and Bucky converse in this one, but it ran longer than expected! Sorry, definitely in the next one.

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

“Aw, c’mon, partner,” Dale coos through the door, but you were hardly listening. As quietly as possible, you were searching the bathroom cupboards for something that you could use as a weapon, “Don’t make me knock down this door,”

You ignore his taunts, and try to gather yourself. Any second he was going to force his way into the bathroom, and you had to be ready. 

“Fuck,” your voice so low it was barely audible. There wasn’t anything you could use, not even a nail file. You’re going to have to fight the old fashioned way. Positioning yourself in front of the closed door, you take deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves and still your shaking fists.

“Y/N,” Dale’s voice turned from fake charm to frustrated and blunt, “I really don’t want to kill you. So come on out and I can give you the pitch,”

Keep reading

6

Brett x Reader


“They saw a wolf running around the restricted area yesterday.” Chris hissed quietly to Scott and he frowned back at Chris. 


“A werewolf or an actual wolf?” Scott wondered and Chris subtly gazed around in the room, watching Satomi and her pack trying to comfort one another after constant hunting.


“A wolf.” He clarified and Scott gave Kira a glance. “Was it Malia?” Scott defended Kira’s question immediately. “No, she was with Stiles the whole evening yesterday.”

Keep reading

You are a galaxy.
Infinitely beautiful.
A swirling masterpiece
of blues and purples
and gold.
And I’d stare at you for hours,
map the constellations of your face,
the freckles on your skin,
the lines; taunt and angular,
beautiful.
But somehow, despite the years I spend studying,
there’s always a new discovery,
a secret hidden in swirls of stars
that makes you all the more beautiful.
—  A.T | @scribbledwordsonwhitepaper
SAID IS NOT DEAD

“Neil, what is this?” you gurgled. “What does it mean ‘said is not dead’?”

“It means exactly what it says,” I screamed. “I’m saying that those posts about words to use instead of the word ‘said’ are absurd and unnecessary. People need to stop telling writers to stop using the word ‘said’.”

“But Neil!” you hissed. “Isn’t it true that ‘said’ is boring? Don’t you want your writing to be more descriptive?”

“No,” I uttered. “Not at all. Just because the word isn’t exciting doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use it.”

“That’s silly,” you yowled. “Of course it does! Why would you want to write anything that doesn’t include excitement and creativity bursting out of every sentence?”

I sighed and rubbed at my temples, trying to stave off the migraine that was beginning to rear its ugly head. “That’s ridiculous,” I sobbed. “Why on earth would it be a bad thing to cut words just because they’re commonplace? Do you think it would help your writing if you stopped using the word ‘it’? Or ‘and’? Or ‘the’?”

“Well, no…” you rejoiced. “But this is different.”

“It’s really not,” I reported. “In fact, there are two extremely important reasons why you should keep ‘said’ in your writing.”

“Oh? And what are these reasons?” you articulated.

“First, said is more or less invisible,” I moaned. “When the reader is sucked into your writing, they won’t even notice the dialogue tags if you’re using the word ‘said’. This helps prevent those tags from breaking up the flow of the dialogue, and thus the scene.”

“What’s the second reason?” you reassured.

“The second reason is that when you use a fancy and highly descriptive verb for every dialogue tag, it lessens the impact of the description,” I blabbered. “The same way if someone calls every movie they see ‘amazing’, you’re not going to take their word for it when an actual amazing movie comes along and they’re trying to tell you about it.”

“So, let me see if I understand,” you taunted. “If I keep using all those other dialogue tags, then when there comes a point when I need a character to actually mumble, or snap, or blubber, using those dialogue tags carries less impact?”

“Exactly,” I mentioned.

“But, wait,” you expressed. “Does that mean that I’m not supposed to use any dialogue tags besides ‘said’? I feel like that’s limiting my creativity.”

“Not at all,” I implored. “I’m not saying that you can’t use them. I’m saying that you should only use them if that is the actual type of speaking you want to convey. If a character is shouting, feel free to use ‘shouted’. But don’t throw those words around willy-nilly. They’re not decorations. They mean things.”

“All right, I think I’m with you,” you boasted. “So you’re saying I’m only supposed to use ‘said’ if the character is speaking with absolutely no particular emotion or inflection?”

I stared at you for a moment, wondering if perhaps you were trolling me, but the sincere expression on your face told me you were completely serious. “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” I meowed. “You can often use the actual dialogue and the context of the scene to get a sense of the tone of what is being said. Additionally, you can always use ‘said’ along with adverbs.”

“Adverbs?!” you yodeled. “But I thought adverbs were evil!”

“You thought wrong,” I threatened. “If there’s a certain descriptor you want to use for your dialogue tag, and there’s no equivalent word that fits correctly, adverbs are fine and dandy. ‘“It’s not important,” he said dismissively’ will have a very different meaning from ‘“It’s not important,” he said hastily’.”

“Okay, I guess you’re making sense,” you voiced. “So, that means that all those posts I see about words to use instead of ‘said’ are…?”

“They’re total bullcrap,” I alleged.

“Well, thank you Neil,” you squawked. “I think I now have a much better appreciation for dialogue tags and their meaning.”

“You’re welcome,” I ejaculated.

Breaking... Ch.12

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

A/N: This chapter took way too long because I wasn’t planning for it but it’s here now so let’s go y’all! I’ll get back to the main plot next chapter I swear!

Wordcount: 3609

Warnings: Blood, slut shaming, taunting, cursing

Tags!!: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty @meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips @sweaterkitty-fluff @pinkyiger7 @littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub @myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013 @lmaodedhaha @itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms @hoshihime98 If anyone else would like to be tagged just shoot me an ask saying so! ^-^

Breaking Trust

You felt the impact send waves through your skull, they reverberated through your brain. Bouncing off the bone. You were falling past the ground, it seemed like the ground faded from under you. Varying shades of grey were around you and sticking out like jagged stone; but as it faded out to white you felt the familiar wrapping of silk around your body. Just as you saw the end of the gleaming fabric, one of the pieces wrapped itself around your leg and dangled you above your point of exit. You stared numbly into the light, you couldn’t see anything beyond it but you could hear something faint. “Miss, I’m going to need you to step back and leave the room! The doctor needs room to work.” It was a woman, she sounded older and frustrated. “No! Please, I need to be here with her! Y/N! Please, wake up!” Another woman said, she seemed much younger than the first and her ton was frantic. Her voice was familiar. “Damn it all! She’s drifting off! Miss L/N, do not fall back asleep!” An older male voice called. You tried to fight the silk and reach out towards the voices but it was no use. The silk raised you up as you struggled and flung you the way you fell. You flew through the air, past the white, past the rocks and into the light you came from.

             Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air. You were laying on some kind of couch and you felt the warmth and light from a fire nearby.

“Well, at least you’re finally up.” A female voice said curtly. You looked around to see a woman standing by a door. Her clothes were similar to yours, only her bodice was orange and had longer sleeves. “Honestly, you’re lucky to be alive at all. If Mr. Burr had not seen your horse, you would certainly be dead.” Mr. Burr? Her voice was cold, her hair, skin and eyes all matched that tone. Icy.

“Where am I?” You asked as your frantically sat up. She chuckled at your panic.

“I shall inform Mr. Burr of your current status. Wait here.” She ordered you and walked out of the room. What the hell happened? The last thing I remember… You touched the left side of your face and winced. You felt some sort of bandage along your left temple and although you couldn’t see it, you could feel how bruised your face was. There were footsteps coming toward the door so you stood up, you still felt a bit dizzy but you quickly steady yourself. In walked in a familiar man, dark skin, wearing a deep purple and a pleasant smile.

“I see that you are awake. What was your name? Titania, was it?” He asked.

“M-Mr. Burr, sir! Um, that’s what I am called yes?” Am I lying? He nodded and sensed your confusion about the situation.

“I heard a commotion outside my door at sun rise and saw a horse with gear standing on my lawn. I recognized it as belonging to Mr. Hamilton and decided I should send it back to his estate but it was acting rather strange.  It kept moving away from me whenever I approached and, although it was probably foolish for to think it, it seemed to want to show me something. Low and behold you were not even a twenty meters from my home. I brought you back and called for a doctor, you had a terrible head wound but he said that you would wake up soon. Luckily he was correct, the sun has just only begun to set.” He explained. That’s crazy! Seriously universe? Why do you have to be such a bitch to me?!

“I don’t know what to say… Thank you, Mr. Burr! You really saved my life! I don’t know how I can thank you enough let alone repay you for this!”

“No need for thanks, I couldn’t just leave you out to die now could I? And in terms of repayment, I shall talk with Alexander about that.” Talk with Alex…Fuck… He’s not supposed to know about what happened! And hell I’ve already caused them enough trouble, why do I have to be like this?! He’s going to have to pay money for my idiocy! Ugh! He could read your disappointment as if you were actually saying it to him.

“Is something the matter?” He asked. Fuck.

“No, no, no, no, no! That’s perfectly fine! It’s just… I don’t exactly like having other people pay my debts but I suppose I’ll have to just live with it.” This is going to be bad when they get back… He closed his eyes like he was thinking about something. You couldn’t read his expression at all, which was something that Alex frequently complained about him. He was elusive.

“I have a proposition for you then, Miss Titania.” What?

“A proposition?” You asked.

“My wife you see, has fallen quite ill and we are a bit short of staff. I am aware that the Hamiltons are up town for the winter. Perhaps, while they are away, you could lend your services to help around here.” He offered.

“Seriously? Thank you so much, Mr. Burr! I just really don’t want to cause any problems for Alex and I’ll work really hard to make sure my debt is paid-“ He shushed you.

“Talk less.” Wait, what? “I will take that as a yes, however there are some rules you must follow.”

“Oh, um, of course.”

“Things are done very differently around here than at Alexander’s. You are at the Burr estate now and you must behave as such. Based on how you have worked at the Hamilton’s I can tell that your personality is rather… loud. That will not be the case while you are with me. Talk less, smile more. That is how you shall operate. You will be expected to hold a demeanor of calm and collectiveness at all times. I will not tolerate anything less, is that clear?” You were surprised by how serious he was while speaking to you, you were actually taken aback. I suppose not everything could be as accepting as it is with them… Even with the terms being so out of character for you, you knew you had to try. So you agreed to the conditions.

             That night you were given back your horse and set out for the estate. You felt slightly uncomfortable with having to ride again after what happened but it was your only option. You were going to be a maid for the Burr’s and would have to leave at dawn every morning to get there on time for work. You got back home, led the horse back to the stables and went inside. You hastily prepared a fire to ward off the chill in your bones. You weren’t sure why but you didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Dear Starlight,

             It already feels as though I have been away from you a century, has it truly only been a month and a half since I have seen you? I miss you, I miss our conversations, I miss your lectures, I miss your voice, your spirit, your passion. I miss it all, everything down to the way you hold a teacup as though it could fall apart in your hands. It is very quiet uptown; I do not think I like the quiet though. It feels empty and, dare I say, a bit lonely without you by my side to share your thoughts on this world we live in. Everyone else misses you as well. Father and Mother have been telling Grandfather all about you, he seems to find you quite charming. Angelica says that studying is becoming a bore without you there to give her alternative methods of remembering her work. Even Alexander, James and John seem quite withdrawn; specifically, they long for one of your fairytales. I have no idea what they are talking about but it has something to do with a fruit that can show you everything you desire? Or was it about gaining knowledge from it? It sounds fascinating, then again, everything about you intrigues me. It is surprising to think that it has not even been an entire year since our first meeting, I feel as though I have known you my entire life. Although since we are on a similar subject, I have some rather exciting news. My birthday is next week! I shall be turning sixteen, soon enough I will no longer be considered a boy but instead a young man. However, I only care about that title when it comes to you. Your wit and luminosity may suggest you consider me an equal. Yet, does that mean your heart sees me as such? I wish not to be considered a child in thine eyes, a boy who becomes as red as a blooming rose over his frivolous romanticized fantasies. I do not think the word ‘different’ quite fits how I see you, perhaps extraordinary would be a better term? You are not like any of the other maidens I have encountered; you are bold, utterly silly and stubborn in every wondrous way. You are the brightest star is the sky, the North Star. Others gaze upon you and wonder where you shall lead them, while I can only hope that you will take pity on a soul deprived of your love, a soul left completely helpless. I see your eyes and smile in the night sky, Lord knows that I have prayed. I have prayed that you will leave your celestial heaven and keep beside me. Is it not embarrassing? Even on paper I cannot articulate what I am feeling without becoming muddled. Perhaps it is best if I wait to express myself when I meet you at the end of February. Until then ma cherié, please do not forget to write. I know you must be busy as to not have the time to write but that shall not stop my own writing tendencies, your words bring me more joy than you could possibly imagine.

Sincerely yours,

P. Ham, your sunshine.

Your mind and your heart were telling you two distinctly different things by the time you finished reading Philip’s letter. Why does everything have to be so complicated?! You held your head in your hands, trying to decide what to do next. It’s been two weeks since you started to work for Aaron Burr and to say you hated it would an understatement. You’ve never felt so restricted in your entire life, it was huge reality check for you. Not everything could be all feminism and modern like it was with Alexander. Proper etiquette hangs over your head constantly, you never expected Burr to be as uptight as he is. It isn’t all bad though, Mrs. Burr is actually quite lovely. She tells you many stories of her younger days when she’s well enough to speak cohesively. Honestly, the best times were when she was awake, it always gave you the chance to take a breather from Aaron. He wants to be by her side as often as time allows, he acts like a completely different person around her. He’s happy. That doesn’t last too long though, and Sarah doesn’t help much either. Sarah was the maid that was ‘by your side’ when you awoke at the Burr estate. She’s kind of, maybe, the worst person. She frequently taunts you for the position you’re in and tries to accuse you because of your relationship with the Hamilton’s. “I know what you did, who knew a man would actually defend his whore.” When you asked her what she was trying to imply she said. “I wonder how the son reacted to learn that his whore was also his father’s. I believe I would pay to see such an encounter!” No matter how many times you try to convince her of the truth, she just shuts you down and claims that a prostitute will do anything to hide her sins. First of all, I’ll do what I damn well please with my body! Second of all, I DID NOT have an affair with Alexander! Seriously, I thought this whole situation was over! You didn’t have time to read the letter before you had to leave for work, so you took it with you. You heard footsteps from beyond the door you were behind and quickly hid the letter in your bodice. You stood up from where you were sitting at the dining room table, taking your spare cloth off of your apron and using it to wipe the table. You know, to make it seem like you were working even though there was nothing to clean yet. Sarah, cold looking as ever, came bursting in.

“Good morning, Miss Home Wrecker. I will be taking care of Lady Burr today, which means you will be in charge of everything else for the day. I suggest you be on your best behavior, or else you shall receive quite a tongue lashing from Mr. Burr… Although you probably want that!” She snorted as she left you alone to fester in your anger. Fuck you too, Sarah! Okay Y/N, calm down. It’s only for another five or so weeks. I can do this! Just put on your best smile and suck it up, buttercup! You took a deep breath and left to take your normal rounds. Things were going relatively smoothly, at least until mid-day approached.

             You heard a carriage drawing into the ‘driveway’ as you started to call it. Ugh, a visitor… Normally, you wouldn’t mind having to greet a visitor, but you haven’t had to deal with any of Burr’s guest yet. You weren’t excited. Nevertheless, you did what you were taught, you walked over to the door and smiled sweetly. You heard footsteps and you opened the door, closing your eyes to block out the brightness from the light hitting the snow outside.

“Welcome to the Burr estate! What may I do for you today?” You asked in a bubbly voice.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Oh no. Please let it be a hallucination! Please let it be a hallucination! You slowly opened your eyes and to no surprise the first thing you see is a bright color. Magenta. The whole image started to fade in, Thomas Jefferson, in all his horridness, was standing in front of you. On top of that, you had to greet him with a smile and give him hospitality. I’d rather shut the door in his face… You bit your tongue and moved out of the way for him so that he could enter. “Well, well, well, Miss Titania! I would never guess I would find you here. What brings you? I thought Hamilton was away for the winter?” He gave you a mischievous grin as you shut the door behind him.

“Simply working, nothing worthy of noting.” You said through gritted teeth. He chuckled, but before he could retort, Burr’s voice echoed from the nearby staircase.

“Hello Thomas, forgive me but my wife is awake at the moment so I must focus on her. Miss Taylor, please make him some tea.” Can I pour the tea on him?! You nodded to the demand, you couldn’t exactly say no. You turned and began to walk towards the dining room.

“Take a seat, I’ll be back with your tea shortly.” You lashed, obviously annoyed. He smiled, but he didn’t sit down.

“Actually, I would much rather follow you. I hate not having company and personally, I’d say you make some pretty fine company.” He raised his eyebrows up slightly. This bitch… You shot him a thin smile and turned to walk into the kitchen, rolling your eyes as he trailed behind you. You began the tea preparations, hoping that he would at least give you the pleasure of not speaking. You were not granted that pleasure.

“How have you been Miss Titania?” He asked, your back turned to him.

“Fine.” You said insipidly. You began to heat up the water and turned to find Jefferson a few feet away from you.

“That’s a rather noxious injury you’ve got there.” He pointed and traced out in the air the slight crescent shape from the stitching on your left temple. You covered it up with your hand. “May I ask how that happened?” He asked with curiosity in his brown eyes, you spoke as you walked past him to grab the tea box.

“It seems that I am no equestrian, Mr. Jefferson.” You said with dun. He clicked his tongue.

“I see.” After that, things went silent for a moment. You got out the teapot and made the tea, now all that was left was for you to set up the tray and cups, you assumed Burr would join him shortly. You set the tray down, picked out he saucers, the cream and sugar as well. You grabbed one of the tea cups with both hands, careful not to drop it and as you picked up the second one, Thomas spoke up.

“How has Philip been recently.”

Crack, shatter, puncture, warm.

             Some glass fragments from the delicate cup began to trickle from your seizing hands, the pieces digging into your palms. You whipped your head around, shock was etched into his features and it only grew deeper when he saw the burning hatred on your own.

“Don’t ever! You do not have the right to ask me about him after what you did! You made him hate me! Even if it was only for a day, it killed me! You do not deserve the grace of hearing his effulgent name, let alone say it!” You spat, you had had enough. You couldn’t hold back anymore, you were tumultuous. You felt like crying, screaming, and being sick all at the same time. He doesn’t deserve to know how wonderful that family is! He almost ruined them! He threw his hands up to show peace.

“Whoa, perhaps it would be best to calm down.” He said in an oddly soothing voice. You wanted to yell, don’t tell me to calm down! But you realized something.

The cup

You opened your hands and the rest of the glass fell to the floor, there were tiny cuts on your hands and blood prickled out from the ends but that’s not what you cared about. Fuck! You crouched down onto the ground and frantically began to pick up the pieces, gathering them up in your apron cloth to hold them.

“No, no, no, no! Burr’s going to kill me!” You spoke breathlessly and then a voice you really didn’t want to hear.

“Why am I going to kill you?” Burr asked dryly. He looked down at what you were doing, his expression blank. You hated that look, it made you even more fearful than most things. The idea that he could be thinking of anything and you wouldn’t know terrified you enough as it was. But now it was directed at you. You were about to apologize, try to convince him it was an accident and that you were sorry but you were interrupted.

“I dropped my cup, you know me Burr, my senses are never quite right when I’m around a pretty lady! I’ll pay for it, don’t worry about it!” Jefferson laughed. What? What’s he doing? Burr sighed and shook his head, rubbing his temples, which he commonly did when he was stressed.

“Seriously, Thomas? You can’t stop your womanizing for even a second? Well… It’s not the good china so I suppose no harm was done. I came in here to tell you that we shall head to the cabinet in a moment, I just have to get properly dressed first. It’ll only be a moment. Taylor, please clean up this mess.” He said as he turned and left the two of you alone once more. You quickly gathered up the rest of the glass and stood up, making sure it wouldn’t fall out of the sides of your apron, the edges you holding lightly between your fingers. You turned to look at Jefferson.

“Why…? Why did you cover for me?” You were dumbfounded, he took a deep breath.

“I know how Burr can be, it was honestly just better to say that I did it. Besides, I’m not a scoundrel all the time you know?” You disposed of the glass as he stepped closer to you. He was only a foot away from you by the time you noticed, he held out his hand.

“May I see your hands?” He asked calmly. You reluctantly showed him your hands, he held one in each of his and inspected them closely. “Hm, you should be alright. Clean them up, use a cloth to stop the bleeding and if anyone asks, tell them you slipped on the ice outside.” He instructed, you nodded along, still a bit confused.

“Why would you help me? Don’t you hate me or what I stand for or something?” He sighed at your question.

“Listen, I will admit that my accusations were under a false pretense, that I apologize for. I wasn’t asking you about Philip to be antagonizing, I was genuinely curious. I talked to James a while back and he told me about what you said. ‘I don’t care about my name’ All you care about is everyone else’s wellbeing. You could say it put things into perspective for me. Why would a whore care about her ‘lover’ and not have it be about money? Why would Hamilton write an entire pamphlet to protect the dignity of one mistress but incriminate the other? It doesn’t make sense, unless I’m wrong and that you truly had nothing to do with it. It was presumptuous of me, and for that I am very sorry. When it comes to Philip however, I am rather close to Angelica and we have discussed the two of you the recently. So do not worry, I get it.” He let go of your hands and gave you a soft smile, walking past you towards the exit into the dining room. “I should meet with Burr, perhaps I shall meet with you again in the future, Titania? It would be a real shame to not see your pretty face again. Au revoir, mademoiselle.” He waved goodbye to you with that same grin on his face. What just happened? Is he not an asshole 24/7? You were left to stew in your questions for a bit, but you eventually followed the directions he gave you, pushing the questions to the back of your mind. Which then made new questions form.

What am I going to do when they get back?

I dare you to create a monster based on your worst fear

Be creative! Maybe it’s a monster that steals your dreams, leaving you without rest or perhaps it traps you inside of them. Perhaps it’s something that symbolizes the passage of time and creeps up on you, following you, taunting you with mortality. Maybe it has the face of the person who has hurt you the most or the face of someone you love as it betrays you. 

Monsters have long been created so that they speak directly to humanity’s universal fears. What monster would speak to your own?

Think outside the box!

If you’re brave enough to post, don’t forget to tag I dare you to write and indicate whether or not concrit is welcome.

Back In The Saddle

Here is Part Two to “Salt And Pepper”

Pairing: Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader
Words:  1090

Read “Behind Brown Eyes”

-Jeffrey comes to visit the reader on set. Has he made a decision?-

Thank you @mamapeterson for looking over this for me!!

A/N: If you want tagged in anything, let me know. :)

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

You were eating lunch in your on set trailer when someone knocked on the door.

            “Come in,” you called out, expecting Jared or Jensen to come in to have lunch with you like they did sometimes.

            The door swung open and you looked up to find Jeffrey standing there. You hadn’t seen him in the month since the con, the night he walked out of your hotel room without saying anything after your ultimatum.

            “Jeffrey?” You were frozen where you sat, confusion and apprehension bubbling in your belly.

            “Hi, Y/N.” He stood just outside of your trailer.

            “What are you doing here?” you asked, putting your fork down.

            “I came to talk to you.”

            Sitting back, you nodded and gave an invitation, “Come on in.”

            Jeffrey stepped in and, after closing the door, sat down across from you and pulled in a deep breath. “What if I told you that you were right?” he asked, the words rushing out in a cluttered mess.

Keep reading

You all: *talk constantly about how much you love each and every member of B.A.P, and how much you care about their health and happiness*

Himchan: *is harassed by ‘fans’ about his weight constantly and taunted by his closest friends and groupmates to the point that he makes himself lose weight so quickly his rib fractures*

You all: