like imagine if you were adam


Originally posted by fyeahmovies


Beast!Adam x Reader

Note: Hi there! So um, this is my first imagine for this blog, but I’m no stranger to the art of x readering. I’ve been writing these for over a year now, I think. Anyway, Beauty and the Beast was always my favorite Disney movie as a kid, and I’ve already seen the new one twice. It’s amazing. So, here we are.

You had stumbled upon the enchanted castle about a month ago. Maybe less. Maybe it had been longer than that. It was so hard to keep track of time here. And though the place was odd and enchanted and sometimes scary, you couldn’t deny the beauty concealed in the darkness.

“Miss, the master is ready for dinner.” Mrs. Potts, one of the castle’s many enchanted caretakers rolled into your room on her cart. She was accompanied by her son, Chip.

“Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.” Madame Garderobe was currently in the process of pulling your hair into an intricate braid. “We’re kind of…in the middle of something here.”

“There’s no rushing beauty~” the wardrobe sang. Every time she belted her soprano notes, you feared a window would shatter.

The cart rolled out of the door and down the hall. A few minutes later, you were finally ready, dressed in a gorgeous pink gown. You hurried down the halls, down the stairs to the dining room, where the Beast was waiting for you.

“Sorry I’m late,” you breathed, taking your seat at the end of the table opposite him. “Garderobe decided to try something new with my hair.”

You could have sworn you saw a soft smile on his fur-covered face.

“It looks nice.” He stated and then paused. “You look nice.”

“Well, thank you.” A blush crept onto your cheeks. The two of you began to eat.

“You know, you’ve never seemed homesick in the time you’ve been here.” He pointed out.

“There’s nothing to miss. Not where I’m from.” You shook your head. A certain sadness waited behind your gaze. He raised an eyebrow. “I was kind of…outcast. I suppose that’s the best way to put it.”


“They thought I was too headstrong. They didn’t like a woman that couldn’t be controlled.” You shook your head. “Because I wasn’t married, I didn’t have access to the things men did. They expected me to cook and clean and bear children, but that’s…not what I want to do with my life. I want to be a doctor. They don’t think I’m educated enough.”

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s not.” You shook your head. “It wasn’t. So I left. And I found this place.”

“Well, if it means anything…” He took a somewhat nervous breath. “You’ll never be an outcast so long as you’re here. You’ll always be welcome here.” When he peered into your eyes, you could tell he meant it. Emotion swept over you in a deep, warm wave. Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t stop them from trickling down your cheeks.

The Beast stood up to come over to you at the same time you did. You practically ran to him, and while he was expecting the sting of a slap or rejection, what he received was something much different. It was a hug.

His eyes widened as he realized what had happened. You were standing there, your arms around his wide frame with tears dripping from your eyes. He looked down at you for a few moments before gingerly embracing you. His touches were tentative, careful. The last thing he wanted was for you to recoil in disgust, in fear of the monstrous creature he had become. Admittedly, it had been a long time since anyone had showed him affection, even something as simple as an embrace.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong-” he began to apologize, unsure of the cause of your sudden emotional breakdown.

“I wish the people back home were like you.” Your voice was quiet, broken. You gripped him tightly, continuing to sob in relief, or perhaps in realization that you had finally found somewhere that accepted you for who you truly were. “Thank you.”

At your words, the Beast’s jaw dropped. And it was in that moment that he realized, like a whisper in the back of his mind: you had to be the one.

Better Books. [Beast! Prince Adam Oneshot].

I’M SUCH TRASH. I’m pairing this with another one of my imagines: Where Adam Tells you his name.

Originally posted by braedens

Title: Better Books.
Pairing: Implied! Beast!Prince Adam x Reader.
Words: 1,522.
Rating: K.

After scanning the shelves for what seemed like hours, you had finally found the book you were looking for. Laughing softly in victory, you figured that Adam must have hidden it from you to assure that you didn’t read it again. You could hear his voice inside of your mind, ‘There are better things to read than that.’

You held the book in your hands close to your chest. Rubbing the spine gently, you felt somewhat conscious of the blue eyes lingering on you longingly from across the spacious room. Whether out of nerves or slight curiosity, you let one of your feet dangle from the ladder in the library, swinging around slightly so you could look back at Adam with a tender gaze. He was perched in a chair, sitting in what little sunlight was leaking into the castle from the overcast sky outside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sort of warm sunlight that soaked into your skin and made you feel a little more happy and optimistic. It was a dreary sort of sunlight that would bounce off you and create somewhat negative vibes. Fortunately though, you strode around with your own positivity the darkness that seemed to mindlessly drape around the entire residency.

By the time you looked back at him, he tried his best to seem completely invested in the book instead of the back of your head, but you knew better. It was something new between the two of you and has become more and more frequent. The stolen glances, as if it were forbidden to actually look at one another and allow yourself to be caught doing so. You had only stumbled upon the castle a month ago, and between then and now, he has actually warmed up to you surprisingly well. After all, it had only been a week or so since he felt comfortable telling you his name so you didn’t have to stumble around what to call him exactly.

Stepping off the ladder with a small ‘thud’ as you jumped onto the marble floor, you studied the book in your hand and made your way to the seat across from him. Adam noticed of course, watching you from his peripherals as you sauntered your way towards him and sat down.

Adam cleared his throat, setting his book down in his lap. “What’ve you got there?” He inquired, using his head to gesture to the gently worn out book in your hands. If he moved just right in his spot, the dim sunlight coming in through the large windows shined off his horns, somewhat reminding you of how water shimmered in the light.

You seemed a bit shameful when you answered quietly, “Romeo And Juliet.”

“Uhck.” He murmured softly, scrunching his face in mind disgust, “Have you not read that enough? It’s such a tragic story. The romance, the pining, the unforgiving end. That book will be in three pieces by the time you’re done with it. There’s so many books here, why choose the same one over and over?” Adam’s curiosity was legitimate. He never saw the wonder in romance like you seemed to. To him, they all seemed the same and never seemed to have the absolutely ideal ending.

You laughed quietly, “It may be. At least it’s a book that you don’t seem to care about. I’m sure I could set it on fire and you’d probably be very happy that I did.” Shrugging your shoulders, you rubbed the spine once again and answered simply, “It’s a bittersweet tale. I like that it’s not perfect. That’s what makes it enjoyable. Anyway, why does it matter what I read? It’s not like you’re the one reading it.”

He nodded his head in agreement. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one reading it, but he still argued, a bit more innocent and playful this time, “Perhaps, I can show you another story that’s just as good.”

“I dare you to show me one that I’ll love more than this one.” You held the book up and sat it down on the table to your right. “You’ve read everything in here, so I’m sure you can find one.”

Adam stood up, completely towering over you before holding a paw out for you to take. You smiled at him, accepting the help and let him lift you from your seat. “I accept your challenge. I’ve got just the book.” The smile he gave you was the gentlest thing you had encountered and left your heart swimming in an unknown feeling. You wanted nothing more than to see that smile for the rest of your days. Adam hesitated, but eventually let go of your warm hand before striding to the left. You followed closely, biting down on your bottom lip.

What was the feeling in your chest? It was as if someone had lit a thousand candles and let them burn inside of you. You denied any previous thoughts of adoration for Adam, telling yourself that you couldn’t possibly feel anything more than forced friendship for someone who was keeping you here. But at this point, the sensation in your heart was making you question your own words. There was no doubt some sort of attraction between the two of you. The hidden gazes, the gentle strokes of your hand against his arm while you pass him books.

If he let you go, who’s to say you wouldn’t want to willingly stay here with him? You would stay. Even if he didn’t ask, you would stay. But, why?

“Here.” His voice boomed you back to reality. Swallowing softly, you looked up at him with reddened cheeks before letting your gaze drop to the book in his hand. Taking a shaky breath in, you took it from his hands and studied it carefully. It seemed a bit more worn than ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the spine exceedingly bent at the moment, stirring you to ask, “Have you read this a lot?”

“More than most books here. It’s one of the books my mother used to read to me when I was a child.” Adam admitted softly, letting his icy eyes admire your reaction to the book. “It’s the only romance I can actually bear to finish.” He said without thinking. “You see uh— I never finish them, usually. Romances, at least. I leave them off in the ideal place, almost….”

“Afraid of ruining it with the actual ending.” You finished his sentence for him. Adam seemed astonished that you had actually understood. Pressing it to your chest, you sighed and whispered to him, “You’re taking an opportunity away from yourself though. If you never read the ending, you’re not reading it in the way it was intended to be read. Some…” You clutched the book a bit harder, something he noticed as your knuckles were turning while, “Some stories have a happy ending that are so out of sight that you need to keep reading on. You can’t let one bad ending be the reason why you can’t enjoy other endings.”

There was no fighting your words because as Adam let them sink into his mind, he came to realize that you were completely right. He opened his mouth, ready to discourse but couldn’t find anything to say. He couldn’t. He was in such a position that you words were undoubtedly true. Before the curse, his ending was a bad one, though he prolonged it for as long as possible. It took a sharp turn and seemed even worse for a while before you came waltzing into his life, giving the slightest shimmer that perhaps even he could have a happy ending in a story otherwise full of despair, darkness and hate.

“Let me know what you think.” Adam said quietly, looking at the book in your hands. “I hope… you like it.”

Reaching up, you pressed your hand to the right side of his face and completely captivated his attention. The affection was sudden and seemed to leave Adam completely defenseless as you smiled sweetly at him. It was a tender stroke and reminded him of the last time that he had actually been touched so affectionately. It had been years. If it weren’t for the dramatic height difference, he could look at you eye to eye and if given permission, he would have kissed you. Just to see a response, to see that if getting his hopes up wasn’t just a waste now that there were only a few more petals left on the enchanted rose.

Adam was certain he could kiss you regardless, catching you off guard. The nagging voice inside of his head worried that you didn’t want it though, and so he refrained as best he could and tilted his head towards your hand.

You let your hand linger on him for much longer than needed, eventually bringing it from the side of his face to his wide shoulder before walking back to your spot in the small amount of sunlight. It was his time to follow you back. Sitting down, you stared up at him and gave a warm smile, “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

EYYYYY. Thanks for reading! Reblogs and likes are appreciated! :D 

lettiekim  asked:

Hiii the story you wrote about Andrew and Neil that I asked for awhile ago was awesome even though I know it was a hard one. I was wo dering if you can do 98 about Ronan and Adam?

(that is SWEET and also I bastardized your prompt a little >:))

98: “I want to thank you for putting up with me. I know that I’m not the easiest person to get along with.” 

He’s locking up the repair shop with his arms full of backpack and keys clamped between his teeth when someone honks behind him. He startles so hard that everything landslides down onto springy wet grass.

“Sorry!” Gansey calls, head popped outside of what must be the pig, if Adam could see past the dizzy glare of the headlights. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. You’d better come sit down.”

Adam breathes deep, mentally slicing his evening into pieces like he always does when an expensive car rolls up and his name is called. He stoops over to gather the textbooks spilling out of his bag, the scatter of his few precious pens and his bike lock.

When he looks up, Gansey’s switched on his high beams to passive aggressively hurry him along. He slows down a little out of halfhearted spite.

Adam tucks his backpack through the headrests to the backseat and then leans into the front of the car to look at Gansey expectantly. He’s making a face that’s about as close to a grimace as a Gansey can get.

“Ronan ran away.”

Adam blinks. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Gansey breathes. Adam feels his newborn worry ebb and blink out.

“Well he’s at home, then. He’s not going to run far from the Barns.”

“That’s what I’d imagined, but he’s nowhere on Lynch property. Blue and I went on a merry hunt all afternoon.”

Adam feels his chest kick and fight and try to make a scene. “And you didn’t tell me until now?” He hates that his voice sounds like the raw insides of undercooked meat, like he’s delicate and bloody.

“Well we thought it was fixable, and you were at work—“

“I’m always at work, Gansey, and it’s never deterred you before. If my— if Ronan really did disappear—“

“He did,” Gansey says emphatically, and Adam frowns.


“Knocked on my door at 6 am this morning holding this.” He produces a sheet of torn off looseleaf from his breast pocket and hands it to Adam gingerly.

Adam unfolds it.

Tell Adam I’m sorry.

He looks up, swallowing. Gansey’s watching him closely, obviously trying to gauge a response.

“At least he’s started apologizing,” he says weakly, a thin needle of hurt pinning his words together.

“It doesn’t seem like he’s starting anything,” Adam says, his anger and worry taking each other by the throat. “He’s giving up.”

“I think,” Gansey says, “that he’s very bad at grieving.”

“No one’s good at grieving. Not that you’ve ever had to know.”

Gansey recoils. He has a flighty look on his face like he would very much like to abandon this conversation if it weren’t taking place in his most prized possession. “I’m not the one that left, Adam,” he says pointedly, and Adam swears, apologizes, and climbs into the passenger seat.

“Take me to the Barns.”

Gansey looks at him sideways, and Adam would have the pity in his eyes for a punching bag. “He really isn’t there.”

“I know,” Adam says impatiently, “I’m going to steal his car.”

Keep reading

I know we mostly like to imagine the opposite, but adam is way more ripped than ronan. as ripped as a teen can be. hear me out:
-ronan is a deranged insomniac drunk who probably only eats frozen pizza and warm pizza when he really wants to treat himself. as a perpetually drunk italian I can assure you that is no way to get a six pack
-adam works manually like 10 hours a day. he’s a sexy mechanicist, the kind that you see sexy car-washing while completely drenched in soap in certain rated channels. he also moves rocks, works in a factory and somewhere else yet to be clarified, probably a sexy car wash fantasy commercial
-when ronan punched robert parrish, all the odds were against him right? because robert is way bigger. you wouldnt expect him to win, it was a desperate, stupid move. but ronan is faster and even more vicious. imagine this giant angry man fighting against a scrawny emo teen, and the scrawny emo teen winning. that’s fucking awesome  
-ronan is a twink

Can we please take a moment to think about the early days of Ronan’s crush on Adam? 

  • At first, Ronan didn’t like Adam. Not because of anything to do with Adam - no, it was more about Gansey. Ronan did not like having to share his attention. 
  • So maybe he was a bit hostile at first. 
  • And maybe Adam was hostile back, because Adam never used to smile easily and Ronan was everything he thought he hated. 
  • But. 
  • Time passed. And it became clear that Gansey had adopted this boy, with his dusty hair and soft voice. 
  • So Ronan paid attention to him instead of his jealousy. 
  • And as the weeks past, he found that Adam was often the only person to laugh at his particular brand of macabre humour 
  • and that the way Adam smirked at his feet whilst Gansey berated Ronan for not being Gansey enough made his heart flip
  • And once, in latin, he was close enough to Adam to notice that he smelled of engine oil and sweat. 
  • And his hands whilst he wrote notes - Ronan could write poems about Adam’s hands. 
  • He did once or twice but they are hidden and no one knows. 
  • Until one day, years down the line, Chainsaw pulls the crumpled paper out of a crack in the floorboards. 
  • Anyway Ronan falls even further behind in class than usual because Adam’s hands are never still and they are so interesting, strong and tanned and callused, scars dotting the knuckles and freckles scattered across the skin. 
  • Ronan’s first fantasy about Adam involved kissing his knuckles. 
  • He didn’t mean to imagine it, and he hated himself for the rest of the day
  • because he didn’t know when looking turned into feeling 
  • and it was OK to admire Adam, as one admired art, but it was not OK to dream of him. 
  • But he couldn’t help it. 
  • Once he thought of Adam’s hands against his lips, he couldn’t stop it. 
  • He got butterflies when he saw Adam, watched the clock and counted the minutes until the end of the class and the chance to pass him in the corridor. 
  • His insults to Adam got worse, an attempt to counterbalance the fact that he smiled too much whenever Adam laughed. 
  • At night, he replayed their conversations, Adam’s movements, wondered if Adam’s feet had been facing him, because someone told him once that that was how you knew someone liked you. 
  • He imagined what it would be like to kiss Adam, a thousand permeations of the scene. 
  • In some, they were alone, maybe in cabeswater, and Adam would turn to him, and their eyes would catch, and Ronan would open his mouth to let his heart spill out, but Adam would smiles and say “I know” and he’d catch Ronan’s parted lips between his own. 
  • In others they were in his car, victors of a street race, an urgent clash of bodies, the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber in his nostrils. 
  • In one, they are at the Barns, sun pouring through the window, pressed against the kitchen counter. 
  • In all of them, Ronan is so overcome with longing that he forces himself to think of something else. 
  • When Blue dated Adam, he hated her the way he had hated Adam to start with, only this time it hurt more. 
  • Because he couldn’t compete with Blue. Adam would never look at him the way he looked at Blue. 
  • Ronan sneered and swore and internally he fractured apart. His dream turned to Kavinksy, dreams of savage smiles and sticky skin. 
  • They made him feel worse than any thoughts of Adam. 
  • But. 
  • Then Adam started looking back. 
  • And he tried so hard to read into it at first. So hard. He rationalized every lingering gaze away, found platonic excuses for lingering fingers and flirtatious comments. 
  • Because if it wasn’t real, if it was just Adam, confused and rebounding from Blue, he couldn’t go near it. 
  • But Adam didn’t stop looking. 
  • And Ronan began to believe it was impossible that Adam’s stomach didn’t flip the way Ronan’s did when their eyes caught or their fingers brushed. 
  • He knew Adam knew how he felt. Ronan had tried to hide it, had succeeded for a long time, but eventually the thought that Adam might take his distance for dislike won out over his pride. 
  • And so
  • When Adam gazed at him, sat beside him in the room Ronan grew up in, 
  • Ronan didn’t let himself doubt. 
  • The butterflies were still there, as they had been for years, but now the longing won out over the nerves
  • and he leaned in
  • like he had done in so many dreams
  • and he pressed his lips to Adam’s
  • and Adam’s parted, like they had done in so many dreams
  • and he’d never understood the limits of his imagination so keenly until that moment 
  • because the simple reality of Adam, a little sweaty, warm and soft and willing against him, made imagined kisses in fast cars seem ludicrous 

4.0 out of 5 stars
My failure’s complete

4.0 out of 5 stars
Finally got them to sleep, eh? Now try and get them to eat !
I was trying to figure out how Adam Mansbach was going to top his hilarious “Go the F**** to Sleep” picture book (sorta a parody of Goodnight Moon), and here it is.I was a stepdad to three kids for about 5 years, and getting them to sleep paled in comparison to getting them to eat right. The tween girl wanted to eat nothing but mashed potatoes, while the smallest boy was on a diet (not paleo!) of Ramen and cereal. The older boy just into his teens ate anything and everything, but keeping him fed was like feeding a coal fired boiler.So yeah, even tho I am no longer troubled by this, I found this book hilarious.Every parent with a “problem eater” (which is pretty much any parent) should read this book and thus realize you’re not alone and it could be worse.Owen Brozman here takes over the illustrators mantle, and does an excellent job.I await with much trepidation the next book. Dating? Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars
Instant Classic!
I feel like this guy lives with me. I have two kids. One won’t sleep, one won’t eat. This is another instant classic in our house. Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars
Very funny
Oh my goodness. Best. Book. Ever. I got the other one as well, and they are hilariously true. These would be a great gift for any new/old parents. 😂 Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars
A fun book that any parent can relate to…
This book is absolutely hilarious! It is not meant for children, but you can edit it as reading it so it can be a children’s book. The pictures are funny, the situations can be related to, and the book is overall really funny. This book should be read by all parents who have a picky eater. My son pulls the same stuff kids do in this book. The page where the kid refuses to eat pancakes because he suddenly hates them, when they used to be his favorite, and the parent told him he’s full of **** and to stop lying made me laugh. My son will love something one day, and then claim to hate it the next. This would be a great gift to anyone that has a toddler, or anyone who has a kid that can be a jerk about eating ;) Go to Amazon

4.0 out of 5 stars
This book hit a little close to home. I’d have given it the fifth star, but I’ve said almost every line from this book, at one point or another, so I know it wrote itself. Go to Amazon

4.0 out of 5 stars
Good Fun
If you are a fan of Adam Mansbach’s Go the F*** to sleep and its accompanying audio book narrated by Samuel L. Jackson, then you will probably love this book. Written and drawn in the style of a children’s book, You Have to F****** Eat addresses to age old battle fought between child and parent at meal time. Imagine Good Night Moon or Where the Wild Things Are if they were written by a foul-mouthed sailor. The language is raw, but the tone and “story” are pitch perfect.As I stated in my review of Go The F*** to Sleep, avoid this book if you are easily offended.I took a star off because this is Adam Mansbach’s second children’s book parody and I felt like it rehashed the original book’s formula without breaking much new comedic territory. Go to Amazon

5.0 out of 5 stars
I was in tears, I laughed so hard reading this book. I have two kids, both who have feeding issues. My eldest is in college and doesn’t have a feeding tube anymore and is greedy. My youngest still has a feeding tube. After some minor test, there was no reason for them not to eat. They just didn’t want to so they had to get feeding tubes. The title of the book alone had me cracking up. If only I could read it to them lol. I’m getting his other books. Go to Amazon
The Girl Made of Starlight (Part 2)

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

Beast!Adam x Reader

The Girl Made of Starlight (Part 2)

Part 1: here

Running. It was all you knew these days. After your father had passed, killed by the very man that wanted your book, you had been forced to run to escape the fate that followed. Something was after you. Something dark. And if you stopped running, if you let your guard down even once, lowered your hood too far and revealed your true identity as a daughter of the sky, you would be killed. Inside you, there was great power. And with great power came many enemies.

You were scared. But you couldn’t afford to waste time on fear.

The worn old map you carried with you showed a village nearby. It was small. In your case, small meant safe. If you kept heading inland, you would hit it in a few hours, just before dark. Perfect.

You rolled the map and tied it with ribbon before making your way through the trees. You couldn’t describe why or what went through your mind, but something felt different this leg of the journey. It was as though something inside you was longing, reaching out for something ahead of you.

After a few hours’ time, the village was finally in sight. You wiped the sweat off of your brow. Although the hood hanging around your shoulders provided cover from those who were trying to find you, in the summer heat, it was nearly unbearable. You could practically taste the cold drink awaiting you at the nearest tavern. It put a little life in your steps as you trudged the remaining distance into town.

The stone and dirt paths were a welcoming sight. It had been almost a week since you had been in civilization. Your days in loneliness were starting to isolate you from the people altogether. You hoped that maybe the market would be open in the morning and you would be able to buy some bread and jam or some things to pass the time. Really anything would be helpful.

You walked through the doorway of the tavern. You had the feeling whoever owned the place was quite the hunter, given the abundance of antlers and the large mural of an arrogant man with his rifle. Gaston was his name, according to a sign. He seemed like a pompous braggart to you, a war hero with an ego the size of Paris. But perhaps that was just speculation.

You ordered a drink and took a spot at the table in the corner. It was cozy, you decided. Certainly not a place you could call home, but it could be. God, you longed for a home. Some place you could call your own without having to run away to protect yourself. It was exhausting. You never got a break. It was unending. Run, stop for supplies, sleep, run again. So much running and no place to go. It was beginning to feel pointless. But you knew if your enemies got their hands on your book, your kingdom would surely be dead. Your father had given his life to protect those secrets, and you were beginning to fear you would suffer a similar fate.

You exhaled a heavy sigh and took a long sip of the cold drink. It was refreshing after a long day. You were so caught up in bliss that you almost didn’t notice the large man as he took a seat in front of you. You bolted upright as soon as you noticed his presence.

“You must be new to town.” He stated, crossing his legs and flexing as he reached out for your hand. “I’m Gaston.”

“I know.” Your voice was quiet, but you didn’t reach out to take his hand. You only prayed your cloak would be enough to conceal your identity. It wasn’t likely that this lunkhead had any clue that you were a child of the stars, an heir to the throne of the sky, but you couldn’t take the chance that he was in league with Prince Ferdinand. So instead, you sat there, waiting for him to make a move, to say something.

“Are you in need of a place to stay?”

“Actually, yes.” You nodded. “I am.”

“Might I see your face, then?” he asked, pressing slightly. You recoiled slightly, withdrawing your hands further. Surely it would be stupid of him to let a stranger stay in his inn. You knew he only had his safety in mind.

“N-no, that’s all right.” You shook your head. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a beauty to behold.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure if you lowered your hood, it might put me at ease.” He grinned earnestly. You exhaled a slow sigh and reached up, gently pulling down the cloak around your head. “And what a beauty you are,” he marveled. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I could show you around the village tomorrow morning.”

“No, that’s quite alright. I’m headed out early tomorrow. I need to buy some goods at the market and then I’m out of here.”

“Are you headed somewhere particular or-”

“Yes. I’m on a journey to meet an old friend.”

“I could accompany you if you-”

“That won’t be necessary.” You cut him off calmly, but firmly, standing your ground. For you, there was no safety in numbers. He very obviously didn’t know what or who you were, but that didn’t mean other people in the village wouldn’t. When his face fell, you quickly added: “But thank you very much. It’s kind of you to offer.”

“Anything for a beautiful woman like yourself.” He nodded simply as another man, a friend of his, came to stand beside him.

“Gaston, who is this?”

“A visitor to our fair village.” He crinkled his eyebrows as he realized he had never asked for your name. “What did you say your name was, again?”

“(Y/N).” You replied. Your silver eyes searched over the new man. His lingering gaze told you he had heard of those like you. He wasn’t as vicious as the people pursuing you. Instead, he was merely curious, in awe of the being sitting before him. You were a thing of fairytales, and yet here you were, as real as day. “Well, Gaston, I’m afraid I’m very tired from my journey.”

“I’ll show her to the spare room.” LeFou offered before Gaston so much as moved. He nodded hesitantly.

“Of course.” LeFou led you up the stairs behind him. You smirked, awaiting his question. As soon as you were standing on the landing outside the room, he turned to you, unable to hold it in any longer.

“Are you really one of them?”

“One of what?” you voice was soft, knowing.

“A…” he looked around and lowered his voice. “…child of the stars.”

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Why are you here?” he shook his head. “Of all places…Villeneuve. Why?”

“It was the nearest place to stop.” You admitted. “I’m not staying for long. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

“Before you go, I need to know one thing-”

“You will find happiness, LeFou.” You stated. Kindness waited behind your enchanting silver eyes. His heart raced. He felt as though you were looking into his soul. The glow in your irises held what seemed to be knowledge of everything that had ever or would ever be. “But it is not with that man.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He sighed.

“It’s closer than you know.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “I promise.”

“So do you know…everything?”

“No. I just know some things. Important things.” You winked and gave a well-meaning smirk. “Good night. I hope to see you in the future.”

“Good night.” He replied, nodding. As LeFou made his way down the stairs, you walked into the small bedroom, locking the door behind you. You hung your cloak on a peg on the wall and untied your boots, tucking them under the bed. Once you had crawled beneath the fur blanket, you stared at the ceiling.

Your heart was pounding like a drum. There was always fear in these late hours that something would come after you. Or someone would find you and use you. Luckily, LeFou seemed more curious than he did malevolent. You decided you were safe for now. But tomorrow might bring something else entirely. You didn’t know why, but somehow you knew in your heart, as you sometimes knew impossible things…

Tomorrow, everything would change.

Title: The Beauty and the Beast (Reader x Peter Parker)

Summary: Peter auditions for the school musical to spend more time with the reader, not expecting to land a lead role or first kiss in the process.

Word Count: 1528

A/N: Okay I love this so much it’s so cute and fluffy? Let me know if you like and I hope you enjoy!! XOX :) 

Keep reading

Jughead Jones | Donny Darko & Wednesday Adams

Count of words: 1157

Warnings: none really





anonymous asked:
Can I get a jughead x reader where the reader is like Wednesday addams and new to riverdale please 💜 💜

Welcome to Riverdale. The town with pep!” Read the sign that welcomed me and my mum into our new home. Ironic, if you ask me, after the death of a high school student. Well, no I haven’t spent a lot of time here before (just one summer and I met nobody), and neither have I met that, as told by my mother, Jason Blossom, but news travel fast if your family is small and very close. And this leads me to why me and my mother move here, in Riverdale. For a while now, well for about 5 years, my parents divorced, leaving me and my mum alone, and with nothing, to restart our life. We had done pretty well, actually, but the expensess were too much for just the two of us. So, our only solution, after a lot of thinking and talking, was my grandmother that lived in Riverdale. She offered to have us live with her, claiming that it would be easier for us to live properly, and that’s all the convincing needed to agree.

The old car we drove here with finally pulled up outside the familiar house of my grandma, allowing the few memories in my mind come back. They weren’t bad really, I just outcasted as always. Yeah, well, that’s what happens when, as a little girl, instead of wanting to be a princess you wanted to be Wednesday Adams. It didn’t bother me at all, me and her were very simiral. We hated everything at least a little bit, and black was a color we fancied. Funny story, when I was little my mum was scared that I would never have friends, or that I would have mental problems due to that, but truth be told, I am just fine. I was always simply a realist that likes the dark color of the night, it’s not that bad.

I made my way through the glass doors of the, so called, Pop’s Chocklit Shoppe, a little ring indicating my arrival. I was there to pick up some food my grandmother ordered for us, when I was met with the familiar man. When I spent the summer here my granpa would bring me at Pop’s and by me milkshakes and my favorite curly fries. “Y/N!” The man exclaimed, surprisingly recognize me. “Hey Pop. How are you?” I asked the kind old man that smiled widely at me. “Oh, you know, the same. Wow. You grandmother told me you changed but I didn’t expect it to be this much,” he commented handing me a plastic bag that contained my order. “Yeah, well… I wanted a big change,” I mumbled taking the bag and handing him the money. “Black looks great on your hair kiddo. It’s good,” he complimented and I thanked him, leaving the small dinner behind, but not before noticing this Donny Darko looking kid at the corner. It was odd, really to see someone like me around here, but it didn’t mean anything as for now.

It had been a while until my mother and I had finally settled in the cozy family house, and school was just about to start as well. It was nerve-racking for me, but I had a plan. Avoid human interaction as much as possible and keep it low. That was it, that was my only plan to survive another school year, but mostly to survive the embarassment that comes with being the new girl. So, I just brushed my died black hair, put on some black ripped jeans and a black shirt (similar to Wednesday Adams’ dress) and threw on the first pair of black sneekers I found, picking up my back pack and running out the door, in hopes that I would arrive early and skip the whole awkward situation when everyone stares at me, for various reasons.

As mentioned, I tried to be as early as possible into my new school, and I succeded, getting over with the whole paper work at the office and having plenty of time to find a good hung out place for myself, where I would keep away from all the horrible human beings that were to surround me for the next three years of high school. After finding my locker with ease and settling some stuff in it, I quickly made my way to the ouside, where lied many tables, all of which were empty. Almost. Although it was early in the morning, the time no one would be at school yet, the familiar boy from Pop’s stand there, a laptop on hand, typing away, never paying attention to his surroundings. He had actually caught the best table in the whole place, so I decided to just talk to him and maybe we could share. Now, I know I said I hate human interaction, but he seemed to be quite a bit like me. So, given the facts I hoped he was nice.

I stummbled over to the boy, becoming very shy suddenly, but I hid that as best as I could by voicing my suggestion. “Hey, sorry to interupt you, but I’m new, and I’m also much of a loner and this table seems so far from the others. Do you think we could share?” I questioned, never stopping to take a breath until I was over. The boy chuckled and told me a simple yes, surprisingly enough trying to make a conversation with me, that turned out to be super interesting.

After that day, me and Jughead, which proved to be his name, became very close. We were both like the freaks of Riverdale High, but it was ok. We had each others back. Really, I started to believe we only became friends because of our sarcasm. Anyway, today was no different than every other for the two of us, ever since school is started. We were currently sitting by the vending machine in the student lounge, along other classmates of ours, when the talking begun. “I bet Donny Darko and Wednesday Adams, over there, killed Jason. Did you like d-” I didn’t really pay attention to what Reggie said, being ready to fight him, but Jug held my arm behind. “It’s called necrophilia, Reggie. Can you spell it?” Jughead replied, sarcasticaly and Reggie was fast to attack. Fortunately for Jughead, and Reggie, really, cause I would’ve hurt him, Archie defended us, ending up with a black eye. 

For the rest of the day the two of us, Donny Darko and Wednesday Adams as addressed to by Reggie, sat by a booth at Pop’s talking and laughing. “He seriously called you Donny Darko. Oh my, it suits you!” I joked and he just looked at me with a small smirk. “Well, he called you Wednesday Adams, you know.” “I know. Isn’t that such a compliment,” I exclaimed, a breathy laugh falling from the boys lips. “So, Y/N, I was thinking… How about you be the Wednesday Adams to my Donny Darko?” 


There are few moments I saw them not only as Kurt and Blaine but mostly as Chris and Darren. It’s just small part of what I could say but hopefuly it’s enough to prove something.

  • Chris’ face when Darren embraces him. He looks so relaxed and at ease and happy. Both of them do.
  • Jelaous and possesive. Darren is in character but you can see in his eyes he really feels it. He imagines Adam to be someone we know but don’t really like ;) It’s possesive Darren. Chris is his, not Will’s, not PR’s. DARREN’S. So back off.
  • Pushing Darren down on the couch and climbing on him. And the smile. I bet they do this at home. Dominant much, aren’t you, Christopher?
  • The boys in sync. It happened last week, it happened during filming 4x04, it happens now. Do I have to remind you that amazing post about people being unconsciously in sync?
  • The making up scene. The things they were saying, their expressions, it speaks for itself:
  • When Darren goes to sit next to Chris, he’s scared. On the surface it’s the character but he knows they will have to have a conversation like that (about PR) with Chris. Or maybe they’ve had this conversation already…
  • Darren is older, supposedly smarter and he tries to explain everything as good as he can. He’s calming Chris with his voice and eyes.
  • “We just wanted to be us. Together.” The real fear appears. Darren is scared Chris may want to give up. But please, this guy won Golden Globe at the age of 20. There’s no way he’ll give up something he cares about.
  • Chris gives up to his emotions. He needs Darren to hold him, to tell him everything will be okay.
  • “Protecting something that is very prcious to me” I don’t know if RIB did it on purpose like the Darren Aronofsky & Christopher Nolan thing or accidentaly. But Chris can relate to it. Darren is important to him. Their relationship is too. He wants to protect them, their private life, protect Darren. I think Darren wants to come out but he’s scared of the reactions, he still doesn’t believe in himself as much as he should. Chris knows how it is to be out and he doesn’t want to make his lover go through it if he isn’t ready… But he needs him to know that he’s (one of) the most important person in his life and he doesn’t want to give it up.
  • The brief contact after a hug when Darren puts is hand on Chris’ neck. No way in hell it was scripted. He offers his support. He would totally hold Chris longer but, you know, work.
  • The kiss. The slightly open mouth, one hand, then another. Darren needs to make sure Chris isn’t going anywhere, he needs to touch him to know this is real.
  • The neck thing. It’s not the first time Darren’s face has close contact with Chris’ neck (3x05 and 3x19 for example). Is that a kink? Darren found THE spot during one of their sleepovers and now uses it. That’s a freaking foreplay. He knows that in a few they’ll be done with recording and they’ll can go and fool around in one of their trailers. Or maybe speed home and scare Brian for life ;) And here is Chris with dilated pupils and out of breath. It happened. We know it, they now it, Will and Mia don’t ;)
  • Just the fact that W was in the episode. Chris is one of the most professional people I know. He keeps his private and professional life apart. Do you think he would get his “boyfriend” a job at the same work place he is employed? That’s ridiculous.

I don’t believe in Chill. I think Miarren is a joke. Bad joke.

I only believe in CrissColfer and I have my own reasons to.

anonymous asked:

Could you maybe write some headcanons about sana and yousef being together and the balloon squad teasing them about it? and elias having crush on noora? and more teasing? and everyone teasing adam/mikael because they act like a married coule?? seriously, your headcanons are life

  • Look the boys will take any chance like straight up any chance to make fun of yousef like that boy is doomed for life like pray for him
  • sana walks past the boys because she was late for meeting the girls and yousef stares a little too long when she leaves and then they start
    • “Oh yousef don’t worry she will be back before you know it”
    • “Yousef, you guys have confessed each other for two weeks control your sad puppy eyes”
  • okay sana once called yousef to hangout while the boys were filming a live video and all hell broke lose
    • like oh the boys will never let him live that one down
    • “ Heyyyyyy sis can you call your boy later we are kind of in middle of the something”
    • “What are you doing” “We’re filming a livestream” “……” “she hanged up”
    • yousef is dying because sana was taking iniative which is rare and he just lost the chance to hang out w/ her
  • i don’t really ship noora and elias because julie ruined her for me. 
  • but i imagine elias falling hard for this girl/guy in college and yousef and sana tease the hell out him
    • “oh so that is your type” “I thought you liked blondes” “SHUT UP”
    • “Oooooh, Elias you have crush on someone, that is cute” “sana get smirk off your face”
  • like revenge is here like sana has so much dirt on him like she can ruin while yousef can tell all the stupid stuff he pulled in Bakka
  • the revenge was very sweet if you asked either sana or yousef 
  • after years of teasing they were giving room to breath
  • not even elias and elias knows everything about the boys because that is responsibilty as the leader of the boys
  • so everybody is like …..K 
  • Okay but they are at this party and this guy just keeps flirting with mikael and adam is like not having 
  • so he goes and just puts his arm around mikael while giving the guy the best glare he could give  and he is like “babe time to go”

I hope these are good for you nonnie i wrote as fast I could

i think i’ll give you a kiss

Peter Parker + Reader

for @stardustnwit

small lil blurb/imagine request: (i don’t even know if you’re doing these but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) hello i’m alyssa and im from vegas, seems exciting but not really. i really love words if i’m honest, especially the really random rare ones. i’m also a sucker for a good disney movie, specifically peter pan but any movie will do lol. can i get the thing with peter also :) you’re a doll and your writing is so amazing i binge read all your stories in like one night !!

song: grow old with you – adam sandler (the wedding singer)

“Peter, hurry up.” You were adjusting the baby blue bow in your hair in front of the mirror in his hallway. May was waiting at the front door with her camera, ready for you and Peter so she could take pictures of you in your costumes before you both head out.

“No, I look stupid. I don’t want to wear this!” You rolled your eyes, hearing a small, childish groan coming from his restroom. You look at May and shook your head in a joking manner.

“I’ll go check on him,” you whispered, earning a small, silent laugh from her. “Peter?” You called, walking into his room and still finding his bathroom door shut. You walked up to it and knocked three times, lightly, “Peter? You okay?”

“I look stupid. I don’t want to come out.”

“Peter, you don’t look stupid! We’ll look cute together.” You heard Peter sigh.

“Can you please just show me at least?” You heard another sigh, followed by the sound of the door unlocking. He peeked his head out, you being able to catch the orange tint in his hair and the bright blush on his cheeks that you guessed May had applied before you got there. “See? Not so bad.” Peter scoffed.

“Not so bad? That’s easy for you to say! You dressing up as Wendy is cute, endearing. Me dressing up as Peter is – creepy. Pedophilic, probably.” You rolled your eyes, but gave him a small smile.

“You’re so dramatic. Please come out?” You shook his head. “For me? I need my Peter… Pete.” You giggled as he pouted but opened his door to reveal his dark green tights and green shirt to match. Your eyes roamed his costume: his golden belt and fake dagger, the matching green hat with the red feather on top of his head, and the brown loafers he was sporting. “Peter! You look so cute!” What you thought was a compliment earned a groan from your best friend.

“Cute?” You rolled your eyes, giggling as you nodded. “That’s it, I’m changing. I’m going as three-hole punch Jim.”

“No! Peter, you look so good! I’m sorry. Thank you for wearing this. It makes me happy” You suppressed your laugh, reaching for his hand and tugging him closer to you. “In fact… I’m so happy, I think I’ll give you a kiss.” You quoted Wendy. Peter’s eyes widened slightly, his cheeks reddening even more. You smiled widely as you leaned in and pecked his cheek, feeling the warmth under your lips. “Is that okay?” You whispered, gaining a weak nod from the shy boy. “Do you want to give me one, Peter Pan?” Again he nodded at your whispered question. You leaned back and closed your eyes, cupping your hands like Wendy in the movie, waiting for him to place a small trinket in your waiting hands.

Your breath became shallow as you felt Peter’s breath fanning against your mouth.


“Ready for your kiss?” You heard him faintly whisper. Your eyes were still closed as you nodded, the next thing you felt was Peter’s lips on you, too softly – you almost didn’t realize he had kissed you. Your hands came up to cup his face as his circled around your waist.

You both jumped back as a flash and a camera shutter sounded. With your cheeks matching Peter’s make-up, you looked towards Peter’s door to see May standing there, cursing herself for not silencing her phone.  

want one? request here!


Have you ever had that feeling that there was someone inside your head, listening to your thoughts? I read this article on twinning, about how two people can communicate across countries through the mind. Now, just imagine if that were true. Your darkest secrets floating out there like radio waves, just waiting to be picked up on.

A China Rose: Chapter 7

Originally posted by norman-reedus

Summary: Y/N was once an employee at Prince Adams castle along with being his childhood friend but she doesn’t remember. Caught up in the curse, she ends up in Villeneuve where she stands out. But circumstances arrive and she somehow returns to the place she once called home, and a beast she once thought a friend.
A multi-chapter fanfiction. MASTERLIST

Author’s Notes: So this is the next chapter. It’s here. We meet more of the staff in this one. Plus many people have had questions about the curse and the readers memory. This chapter hopefully answers some of these questions. As always, tags, questions and requests are OPEN! Hope you enjoy!

Oh and just in case Y/F/N is your father’s name! Exciting times guys.

Chapter 7: A New Home
Lumière and Cogsworth had led you through several long passageways before you came through into a decorated hallway. Portraits and mirrors hung on the walls all with golden frames. Ornate marble and wooden tables dressed with vases and other knickknacks stood to the side. You barely had time to take it in when Lumière asks you to open the door to your left. You were still enthralled by all the decorations that you walked past the door and you only stopped walking when Lumière jumped down from your hand. You yelped as you thought you’d dropped him but when you located him walking back down the corridor you felt yourself go red with embarrassment. You walked briskly up to the doors and pushed them open, but whilst the Lumière and Cogsworth walked forwards into the room you stood in the doorway with your mouth slightly agape.
You had never seen such a beautiful room. It managed to outshine even the exquisite hallway from when you first discovered the castle. The room was large. That was the first thing you noticed, and the bed alone was easily the same size as half your bedroom back in Villeneuve. The bed in question had satin sheets that shimmered under the crystal chandelier that hung from the painted ceiling. Several cherubs were staring down at you as you slowly walked into the room. Like the rest of the castle you’d seen, there were gold accents everywhere, and there were even spirals of gold simply hanging from the ceiling. There was a mahogany vanity table to the right of the bed with a deep red coloured velvet chair tucked neatly underneath it. On the left hand side you saw several large windows each with their own teal set of curtains, paired with a golden bar. As you walked in further, you saw that next to the door (in a groove in the wall) was a large armoire that was sky blue with gold detailing. A couple of metres away from that in another grove was a petite writing desk, with crisp paper and tiny stool. You continued to turn in a circle trying to take all of it in when you heard Lumière say,
“It is modest I know but…” You cut him off.
“Modest?! This is the most exquisite thing I have ever seen!”
“Then you haven’t seen a lot.” Cogsworth mumbled under his breath and luckily you didn’t hear him.
“It’s beautiful.” You sighed as you stared around.
“But of course!” Lumière exclaimed. “You are our guest. Nothing but the best.” He dramatically gestures before crashing down, somehow gracefully, on the bed only to be engulfed by a cloud of dust. He spluttered at all of the dust that now was in the air waving his hands in the air to disperse it all. “We were not expecting guests.” He said rather solemnly as he looks at you hoping that it would be an apology. You smiled in response and laughed every time he took a step as with each one a new grey cloud was formed. As if detecting dust, a white feather duster flew past your head at a rather fast speed. It quickly moved from surface to surface dusting each one slightly.
“Don’t worry miss, I’ll have this room spotless in no time.” It said in a very distinguishable female voice. It giggled and swooped down from the ceiling onto the bed next to Lumière, the peacock face somehow showing and expression of joy.
“This plan of yours is dangerous.” She whispered to him. Lumière wiggled his eyebrows and replied with,
“I would risk anything to kiss you again, my dear Plumette.”
These romantic comments were exchanged back and forth with the climax of them being, “How can I be strong when you make me so weak.”
You were certain that these sweet but sickly gestures would have gone on for longer if Cogsworth didn’t cough extremely loudly to remind the lovers that there were other people in the room. They pull apart from one another, sheepish looks on their faces. Plumette, who you presumed was the name of the feather duster, flew up into the air and began to thoroughly clean everywhere that could physically gather dust. You’d now seen three objects that were seemingly living. You walked over to the dressing table and looked back at Lumière and asked “Is everything here alive?” He didn’t answer as he was still following Plumette with his eyes. With no answer you picked up the hairbrush that sat atop the vanity.
“Hello?” You asked, “What’s your name?” You heard a snigger from behind you and turned to see Lumière covering his mouth with his hand and Cogsworth pointing to the brush with a small stick.
“That is a hairbrush.” Cogsworth stated clearly; as if it were obvious. You put the hairbrush back down on the vanity table fairly quickly, slightly embarrassed at your quick assumption. Before you could question them on what the rules were to make one object move and one remain stationary, you heard a voice from behind you coming from the doors.
“What’s going on? I heard that there was a guest.”
You turned to see a paintbrush walking in on its bushy end and a painted face at the top of the handle. It stopped abruptly before it reached the middle of the room, its gaze fixed on your face with its mouth wide open.
“Ah, Y/F/N, we do indeed.” Lumière answered. He gestured to you dramatically, “This is….. Um mademoiselle,” he looked up at you, “Pardon me, I never asked you your name.” He said sheepishly, clearly embarrassed by his carelessness.
“It’s fine Lumière.” You replied smiling down at him as he was the one who made you feel welcomed in a place that was anything but welcoming. “You can all call me Y/N.”
All the living objects in the room turned to face you, a state of shock clearly etched upon their face. You were puzzled as to why they did it.
“What?” You questioned. After a few brief silent moments it was the paintbrush, Y/F/N, who answered your question.
“Oh nothing. It’s just a very beautiful name.”
“Thank you.” You replied, “I like your name too. Reminds me of my father.”
“How so?” the paintbrush questioned as it slowly approached you, its stare not leaving your face.
“Well,” you began, “It is my father’s name as well.” The paintbrush looks at you, expecting you to continue. “He was an artist.”
“Was?” He looked at you.
“Yes. He’s been missing for several years. Almost nine I believe. He went to paint a picture for some rich family and never came back.” You had to pause to ensure that you didn’t cry. “People don’t remember him and tell me that he’s dead, never existed. But I know that isn’t true. I can feel it. Sometimes though, I forget things, small things, and they never come back. I don’t even remember the sound of his voice” You breathed in, tears starting to fill your eyes.
"I’m so sorry.” He said, voice breaking.
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” You replied, wiping at your eyes, hoping to end the conversation there.
He whispered back “If only that was true.” but it was drowned out by a loud snore, so you didn’t hear his reply. You jumped at the noise.
“What was that?” You asked any one of the objects in the room. The snore was once again heard and this time you managed to pin point exactly where the noise was coming from. The blue and gold armoire was the cause of the snores. The top cupboard opened and closed slightly as each snore passed. Five. Five was now the total of living objects you had encountered. Lumière clearly saw your shock and offered you some comforting words.
“Do not be alarmed, mademoiselle Y/N,” he said calmly. “This is just your wardrobe.” He gestured dramatically to the snoozing furniture. “Meet Madame de Garderobe, a great singer!” You internally wondered how a wardrobe could be a great singer when Cogsworth made a snide comment that made you feel guilty for laughing.
“She’s a better sleeper.” Cogsworth commented and your giggle was loud enough to cause the Madame to awaken. She yawned loudly before looking directly at Cogsworth with her curtain eyes.
“Cogsworth you officious alarm clock.” She scolded. Apparently she had heard his comment. “A diva needs her beauty rest.”
From the look on Cogsworth’s face it looked like he was about to throw back another insult but Lumière swooped in before he could.
“Of course you do Madame.” He gave Cogsworth a pointed look. “Forgive us, but we have someone for you to dress.”
It took a while for you to realise that that person would be you. You were about to retaliate saying how you liked what you were wearing but Garderobe had already spotted you and shouted joyously, “Finally! A woman!” She pulled you towards her and began pulling at your face and clothes. “Pretty eyes, proud face. Yes!” Her drawers opened and closed in what you thought was her version of a happy clap. “I will find you something worthy of a princess!”
You couldn’t help but dread what was about to happen. Not only did you expect to be shoved into a dress with a corset and wig, but you were terrified that your gloves would be removed, revealing your hand for everyone to see. You briefly thought that enchanted objects wouldn’t be too concerned by a girl with a china hand but you didn’t want to risk it. On top of all that, you just weren’t a princess, and never would be. You didn’t want to be made over. You like the way you were now.
“I’m not a princess.” You pointed out to the wardrobe.
“Nonsense!” The Madame said, brushing away your protest quickly. “Now let me see what I’ve got in my drawers.” She opened them quickly, and you had to bat away several moths that were released. “How embarrassing.” she exclaimed, and you were surprised to see the sides of the curtains go a deep red instead of the blue you had seen so far.
Before you could question how such a thing was possible, how any of this was possible, Garderobe had already released a hoop skirt and was now draping it over your body despite the fact you were still wearing other clothes and that your bulky bag was still draped over your shoulder. Several long lengths of fabric shot out of the wardrobes drawers and Madame spun you around quickly as she placed each sheet of fabric over the skirt in a mismatched pattern. She turned you away from her and wound a thick ribbon around your waist and pulled. Hard. You let out a sharp breath as you felt your tool box dig into your hip. She paused for a brief moment to call out, “Froufrou, come help Mumsie!” You used this time to loosen the ribbon around your waist so that not only was your bag not digging into your body, but also so that you could actually breathe properly. Suddenly the doors burst open and a tasselled footstool came rushing in, barking non-stop. It ran over to and around you in circles several times before jumping up at the wardrobe. So this was Froufrou and from the constant yapping you presumed that it was a dog. The castle’s pet. With her dog by her side, Madame once again continued to make the dress. Several more strips of fabric shot out over you and you felt a breeze travel up from behind you when the wardrobe made a small exclamation of joy. No sooner was the sound made, something rough and coarse landed on your head.
“Ta-dah!” Madame celebrated. “Perfecto!”
You looked over to the mirror that hung on the wall and you dropped your hands down by your side in a state of exhaustion. Your reflection was garish. The ‘dress’ (if you could even call it that) swallowed you completely. Several clashing colours of different sized patches were thrown over the base hoop skirt and the top was simply just fabric in a horrific pink thrown over your shoulders. On your head was a ridiculous powdered wig, one that could have rivalled one of the Bimbettes’ when they were trying to impress Gaston. You looked down at Lumière and Cogsworth who were both trying desperately to hide their laughter and embarrassment. They along with Y/F/N were backing towards the doors.
“Anyway,” Lumière said, “If you have any further needs then the staff will attend to you. We are at your service.” He bowed and grabbed Cogsworth and Y/F/N and they all slipped out of the room. With their hasty movement, Froufrou lost interest in Garderobe and ran after them in pursuit. Moments later, Plumette swooped out of the room, her dusting complete (she’d done a spectacular job as even the bed sheets were devoid of dust). With that the doors closed leaving you alone with Garderobe. Not wanting to waste any time getting your questions answered you spun round to face the wardrobe and asked,
“How did this happen?”
You received a snore as a reply. Madame was already asleep, not even marvelling over her creation. You sighed disappointed that you wouldn’t get the answers you were hoping for. You removed the wig from your hair and slipped out from underneath the hoop skirt, relieving yourself of the dress. It remained intact and standing despite the lack of a body within it. The amount of fabric there was astonishing. With your only guardian asleep you decided to try and find a way to escape. Staring at the dress an idea hit you. You walked over to it and began collecting fabric and dragging it over to the window. With that you started to put your escape plan into action.
On the other side of the doors, down the hallway, the staff were in a heated conversation. Froufrou had run off to go to the Maestro, which left the candelabra, clock, feather duster and paintbrush behind.
“I can’t believe it was her.” Y/F/N said solemnly. “She hasn’t aged a day.”
“It is most fortunate non? That she has returned to us.” Lumière pointed out.
“How is it fortunate, Lumière?” Cogsworth asked, “She didn’t even recognise us.”
“Sweet Y/N.” Plumette reminisced.
“My little girl doesn’t know who I am!” Y/F/N yelled. “She’s been alone for nine years! Thinking I had up and abandoned her.” The distraught he felt was clear in his words.
“Non, mon ami.” Lumière comforted the paintbrush. “She knows you are not dead. She loves you.” The paintbrush nods at his words.
“She just isn’t expecting you to be a paintbrush.” Cogsworth stated, which earned him a glare from Lumière.
“What do we do, mon amour?” Plumette asked her lover.
“I do not know. As much as I hate to say it, we are merely strangers to her. She knows not of the times in the past.” He replied solemnly.
“Which means what exactly?” Y/F/N asked.
“It means,” Cogsworth started “that Y/N is to know nothing of the curse. She cannot find out anything about it, not even that we are her family.” He broke off after that, the memories of you flushing back.
“I have to pretend that I don’t know my own daughter?” Y/F/N said, staring emptily at the floor.
“It is for the best mon ami. As much as the pain of it will cause us, she cannot know. It would be dangerous for her to know too much. Besides it does not mean you cannot spend time with her, non?”
Y/F/N nodded slowly and if he could cry, then the tears would be falling.
“What of the master?” Plumette questioned. “Surely he must know.”
“Of course he doesn’t.” Cogsworth said bluntly. “He’s too much of a fool to notice. He was watching her in the cell for half of the day, and didn’t even recognise her.”
“It would be for zee best that he never finds out either.” Lumière stated. “They weren’t on the best terms when that night happened and telling him would only make him more…” He paused trying to think of the appropriate word.
“Like his father.” Y/F/N said. All four of them nod in agreement. As they made their way to the kitchen they made the unanimous decision to tell the rest of the staff the plan. That the master was not to know who she was and that she was to know nothing of before. Little did they know that before that could happen, they’d have to find a way to keep you inside the castle, with them at all.

Tag List: @rainwing-galaxy @loneliestlittlerainbow @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @liviacollettex3 @caseynathan @langinator @casangelcake @scarlinrouge @an-anxiousace-from-outerspace @molethemollie @no-butter-before-marriage @plethora-of-things @quiettranquility-blog @jedi-dreea @jvnovi  @blueinkblot @frozenhuntress67 @iwyr @quickies-with-quicksilver @beastsenchantedrose @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @yammering-emma @nerdgirl78 @randomastridoverhere @just-a-blog00 @aknerdchick @ilvermornyqueen @multifandom-slytherin @medivh-the-last-guardian @childoftheshire @theeeeens (It won’t let me tag you, I’m so sorry)

Lucifer x Prophet!Reader Chapter Four

Warnings: SMUT SMUT

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Fandom: Supernatural 

Notes: Final chapter ): Also the end is so fluffy you might cringe. Just a warning. 

You reached your hand out, timidly petting the lion in front of you. It just made a soft, deep noise and rubbed it’s head roughly against your hand and arm, then it padded around you to rub against your side. You smiled widely and scratched it’s long main as it laid down, rolling on it’s stomach.

“I knew you’d enjoy this.” Lucifer said as he watched, stroking a black panther that was laying its head in his lap. You were out in some kind of island, large wild cats roaming around. Tigers, lions, cheetahs, leopards, jaguars, panthers, everything you could think of. And they were all friendly. They sensed Lucifer’s grace, and they took very kindly to him and you.

Nearby a tiger splashed around in a small pond with its cubs, making cute chuffing noises to each other. A family of black panthers basked in the sun, sleeping while a pair of cheetahs chased eachother around a tree.

“This is so relaxing. Such a beautiful experience.” You said and laid down on the lion, your head resting in its main and your hands rubbing and scratching its ears. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“Of course.” He said and rubbed soothing circles in the panthers head. “That lion loves you. I can feel its emotions radiating off of him.” He said and you smiled, scratching it’s ears again. This was the best therapy you could ask for. A few cubs came and played with the large lion who sat up to give them attention, you assumed he was their father.

You stood up, wiping some of the hair off of you and walked over to sit next to Lucifer. The panther gave you a look before settling back down onto his lap. You smiled at it. “He’s beautiful. Thank you again.” You said and rubbed the panthers side, it was so very soft.

“It’s getting late, we should go back to your cabin.” Lucifer said and you frowned.

“Okay.” You said in a sad tone and leant down to kiss the panther. “I’ll come visit you guys again.” You said and stood up, saying a loud goodbye to the other large felines.

As you appeared in your cabin you scared your dog, who barked loudly in surprise. Once he saw it was you he started jumping around your feet. Lucifer wasn’t there with you and that made you sad. But you supposed he had things to do. So you ate supper, fed your animals, locked your doors and climbed into your large king sized bed.

You laid in bed for a moment before you started thinking about Lucifer again. He was so sweet to you. So kind. So beautiful. You laid in bed and thought of his eyes, his skin. It was so soft too, especially his hands.

His hands.

Your cheeks warmed up as you thought about his fingers. They were long, and thick. And cold. He was a cold man. His chest was probably cold and it would probably be cold pressed up against yours. Your eyes closed at the thought, your hand slipping under your sheet between your legs. No shame entered your mind as a smile graced your lips. His fingers were yours for the night, thinking of his eyes locked on yours and his facial hair grazing against your thighs. His forked tongue between your legs. His hands roaming around every part of you, his cold hands making goosebumps rise all across your skin. His tongue on your neck, licking you, your cheek, his cool tongue entering your mouth. Kissing you as he removed his cold fingers from between your legs, placing something else down there. You finished your session then, sweating and breathing heavily with a lazy, satisfied smile on your face. Then you fell asleep with his name on your lips.

The next morning he took you out to town to buy some books. He said he could get you any book you wanted, but you wanted to go out and see other people for a change. He took it as an insult at first, but then remembered humans were social things.

“I read this book in highschool.” You commented lazily, looking at the title of the book in front of you. “I hated it because of my teacher. He was quite the asshole.” You said and Lucifer remained quiet, watching the people in the bookstore. You turned to look at him with furrowed brows. “Lucifer?” You asked and he looked at you.

“Yes?” His voice was so calm and soothing you almost forgot what you were going to say.

“I was talking to you. Is something up?” You asked and smiled, trying to brighten the obvious awkward mood.

He shook his head and turned back around with arms crossed, watching everyone move around. You just sighed and turned back to the bookshelves.

When you checked the books out and left you could tell Lucifer was in a hurry to get you back to the cabin. But you liked walking, it felt good outside and it was nice to see other human beings. He watched everyone who walked past you, glaring them straight in the eyes and looking over his shoulder as they past to make sure they weren’t looking back.

“What is the matter with you?” You laughed as you stopped at a crosswalk, looking both ways.

“All these people. Too many humans. You should hear what they’re thinking.” He muttered and you sighed. A car stopped to let you pass and you walked across the road. Halfway across you heard a loud honk and instinctively you dropped the books, shielding your face. When nothing happened you opened your eyes to see a huge dent on the hood of a silver car. The man got out, cursing at you to watch where you were going. But you had the right away. The light was red.

Lucifer was on him in seconds. He pinned him against his car, punching him in the face a few times, knocking out a few teeth and you were pretty sure he broke his jaw. You ran over to him, pulling Lucifer off with all your might. “Lucifer, stop!” You cried out and he finally backed away, the man slumping against his car with a tooth falling out of his mouth.

A crowd of silent people looked at you, wide eyes and mouths. You felt tears build up in your eyes as you picked up your books. “Lucifer, please, take me home.” You begged and then you were in your kitchen.

“Why did you do that?” You asked as you set the books down on the table, your hands shaky.

“He almost killed you.” Lucifer said in a low tone, blood still on his fists and face. “Then he had the audacity to yell at you. He deserved it.”

You wiped away the tears from your eyes and leaned against the counter. “Give me some alone time.” You said quietly and he disappeared.

A few days later he visited with a small aquarium full of starfish as an apology. You smiled widely as he set it on the table in the living room next to the t.v. “How does it look?” he asked, watching the small pink creatures slowly climb around on the rocks and other colorful decorations.

“It looks very cute. They’re so tiny and adorable.” You smiled and leaned over, watching them closely. You didn’t notice it but Lucifer was watching you closely. You also didn’t know that when you were repeating Lucifer’s name a few nights before, he heard it. He appeared to see if anything was wrong, but nothing was. Normally he would have left, but knowing that what you were doing, and knowing it was for him, he stayed. It was creepy, yes, but he didn’t have the strength to leave. If it was any other human he wouldn’t even have been affected. But the two of you were bonded, paired. So the pleasure you felt, he felt as well that night. He tried to act normal around you after that, but it was so difficult.

How would he bring it up? How would he let you know that he wanted to please you with that ‘cold, forked tongue’ of his? He smiled to himself as he watched you gaze at the small creatures. The things he could do to you. The ways he could please you. He would love to watch you squirm and moan under his body.

“Want to go for a walk?” You asked and he looked up from his daze, nodding. You smiled at that. “I’ll bring my dog, he likes walking with you.” You said and picked up the blue harness, strapping it around your dog. You attached the leash and he jumped around happily, ready to go outside.

Lucifer lead the way, choosing the path through the woods that led to a large lake. It was pretty out there, that was a given. Everything around here was pretty. Lucifer made sure it was perfect for you.

You sat on a log, watching Cujo run around in the sand and the water. He would need a bath when you got home. You looked over at Lucifer who was watching a plane fly overhead, a white trail in it’s wake.

“Did you read the books?” He asked and you nodded slowly, explaining you had finished one and were halfway through the other. When you finished talking it was silent again and you chewed on your lip.

“So…” You started. He looked over, his blue eyes sending chills down your body. “You said you’d tell me the story of why you…” You trailed off as he looked back to the lake. He knew what you meant.

It took him a few minutes, but then he spoke. “Heaven. It was perfect. Beautiful. Gardens of every type of plant you could imagine. But mostly roses. God knew I liked white roses, so they were the popular pick. Gabriel liked the yellow ones, Michael liked the dark blue ones, and Raphael liked the pink ones. I suppose rose colors are irrelevant. But they weren’t to me. Everything was perfect, peaceful, love was everywhere. Harmony and justice. But then.” He stopped and clenched his fists. “He created humans. Adam, and Eve. They weren’t perfect. They were at first, but it didn’t take long for them to start sinning. I tried to convince father to kill them off, they were murderous beings. But he didn’t listen. So I took matters into my own hands.” You listened carefully, making sure to keep your eyes locked on him the entire time. “I didn’t think anyone would find out. I had Eve eat the apple. I just wanted peace again, I just wanted father to see how truly evil and naive they were. But Uriel. He saw and told. I tried to convince father it was for the best but he had none of it. He had Michael cast me down. He was going to take my wings.” He was tearing up. Lucifer was tearing up. “I loved them more than anything. I loved my brothers and sisters more than I loved myself. But they didn’t care. All they saw was my one flaw, and they turned against me. My own family.” He stopped talking. That was all he needed to say. You wrapped an arm around him and rested your head on his shoulder, rubbing his back. You didn’t say anything, you just rubbed soothing circles in his back and arm.

The sun was setting when you finally left. Lucifer stood up without saying a word, snapping his fingers. You, your dog and Lucifer were back home. Cujo ran off into the pets room to eat and drink, so you closed the door behind him. It was their bedtime anyways. You hung his harness and leash on the door, and before you could fully turn around Lucifer was on you. You almost screamed in surprise, it was so sudden and jarring. 

He pinned you against the wall, kissing your lips so hard and rough, so needy. Like he was thirsting to death. His forked tongue was cold, just as you had imagined. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to get closer to you. You parted for air and he snapped his fingers again, and you were in your room. It was so random, so sudden and unplanned, but it made it all the better. You had no idea Lucifer liked you back this way.

He had you against the wall again, this time with his mouth on your neck. He bit down hard, causing you to cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders. He had no idea what he was doing to you. Your thighs already ached and a slow pain built up between your legs. “Lucifer.” You winced, but the pain felt good. His cold tongue licked your neck and down to your collarbones, chills rising all over your body. In an instant your shirt was gone and his lips were on your chest. He teased you, his cold tongue tracing circles around your nipples before taking them into his mouth and gently nipping them. You moaned, throwing your head back as your knees felt weak. You could barely stand.

Then, your pants were gone, and your panties. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head immediately between your thighs. You cried out in pleasure as his facial hair rubbed against your skin, rubbing it raw. It burned but his cold tongue soothed the hot pain. Then, his fingers trailed up your thighs. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling roughly and bucking your hips against his face. His tongue slithered between your already dripping folds. It flicked against your clit and you groaned loudly, rubbing yourself roughly against his mouth. “Lucifer.” You cried out, your eyes closed tightly. “Oh my, oh my, yes, yes!” You cried with a wide open mouth, a smile on it as well. He knew you were cumming, he shoved two thick fingers inside you and curled them hard and fast. You came hard, your cum slowly leaking out from inside you. You slumped down against the wall, breathing hard, eyes closed. Lucifer smiled, looking at the mess he made of you.

“You are one of God’s only humans I enjoy.” He said and picked you up, gently setting you on the bed.

“I think I love you.” You whispered, still tired from your orgasm.

“Funny, because I know I love you.” He smirked, taking his green long sleeved shirt off. Next came his light brown tee-shirt, then his pants. He was a glory to behold. You sat up, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him undress. He was about to climb on top of you but you stopped him.

“Let me please you.” You whispered, a hand on his cold chest pushing him down flat on his back. He looked up at you, that wicked smirk still on his face. “You deserve it, you deserve everything I can give you.” You said and leant down to bite at his side. He tensed up, closing his eyes. You bit down sharply on his hip and he jerked a bit, a sharp intake of breath coming into his mouth. You smiled and looked at him, he had long curly blonde pubes. You assumed he didn’t really need to shave, that was probably something he never considered in his life. You tugged at them and he jerked upwards, his erection pressing up against his stomach. You took one long lick up his shaft and he let out the first sound of the night. It was a soft exhale, a shudder. The air in the room dropped a few degrees and you shivered a bit. You took your time licking and teasing before taking his head into your mouth. He groaned deep inside his throat with his eyes still closed. His salty precum tasted better than any other you had tasted. You closed your eyes and took him into your throat, hollowing your cheeks out and bobbing your head up and down. His hands went into your hair to grab a fistful, pulling roughly. You cried out and he jerked you up.

His blue eyes told you everything, he wanted to be inside you. You smiled at him and allowed him to flip you over on your back. As soon as your back hit the mattress he wasted no time in pushing himself inside you. A loud, sharp cry escaped you as he filled you up, pleasure shocking you. “Lucifer!” You moaned, clawing at his back. He started thrusting immediately, rough and fast. Hard and ruthless. He whispered out your name many times, biting deep into your neck and your chest.

Words came out of his mouth that you didn’t understand, it was another language. “Enochian.” He whispered, answering your internal question. You moaned at that. He was praising you in angel tongue. He continued pounding into you, each thrust hurting and feeling so good at the same time. “(Y/N).” He groaned and thrusted hard, causing you to shout out in pain. That thrust was a bit too rough. But, it made you orgasm again. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you arched your back, your mouth open in a silent cry. You rode out your orgasm, shaking slightly, then slumped limp against the bed. Lucifer came after that, cumming inside you. It was cold, so cold you shivered fiercely. But you didn’t care.

After that Lucifer snapped his fingers and you were both clean, as if straight out of a shower. The bedsheets were changed, and the room was a nice warm temperature. You both laid on the bed, naked and tangled between each other.

“Thank you.” He said, kissing your neck. “Thank you for not hating me for who I am, thank you for loving me.”

You smiled into his neck, your eyes closed. You hadn’t been happier in your entire life. “Thank you for protecting me and making me the happiest human on earth.” You said and he pulled you closer to him, kissing your forehead.

He was glad you were his prophet. He was glad he was your archangel. He was glad you loved him, and he was glad he loved you.

What a puzzle

Originally posted by wizardfrenchfries

He found his father-in-law in the sitting room that overlooked the rose garden and the fountain, where the western wall was only a thousand panes of polished glass. The sun was setting and the room was filled with the rich, amber sunlight of a late summer evening and the paler flickers from the hearth where drift-wood burned. Belle preferred the strangely shaped, salt-rimed wood to the traditional oak and pine for the unusual dancing color of the flames, the unpredictable shower of silver sparks, the fineness of the ash left in the hearth. Maurice was smoking a pipe and the smoke curled like twilight coming into the room, scenting the room with its sweetness.

“Maurice, I need to talk to you,” Adam began, running his hand through his hair half-distracted, marveling a little at how human it felt.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to figure it out,” Maurice said, puffing a little on the pipe, then setting it aside. “Frankly, I’m rather impressed with how quickly you have understood. I have perhaps underestimated you,” he said calmly, with an appraising amusement Adam had never been subjected to before. The older man made a small gesture of encouragement.

“It’s Belle. She’s…” Adam trailed off, searching himself for the correct word, the right collection of words that would explain it.

“She’s terrifying,” her father said plainly. “She’s always been this way, you know. Imagine how it was for me, I could hardly speak of it, of her, to anyone else. And such a little girl, no one would have believed me.”

“I thought she just liked to read. I thought she was very bright, self-taught– I thought,” Adam said. Maurice interrupted.

“You thought you could keep up with her. That it would be easy to do so, no?”

“I found her reading Vitruvius and Taccola, di Giorgio in the library. I didn’t know I owned the books, but I do. We do. I hardly knew who they were but she explained. I thought she would be reading Marlowe or Sidney or Marie de France, getting drunk on poetry, but she is designing a new mill and a bridge for Villeneuve now!” Adam exclaimed.

“When she was four, she built herself an abacus from the clock-work gears she found in my workshop. She learned German from the Belgian woman who made the best rolls in town when we were in Bergues, Latin from the priest,” Maurice paused. “I always wished there was an academy for her to attend, a tutor I could hire but there was no school which would take her, no teacher I could afford. Even to buy her a book was beyond me.”

“Does she love me only for my library?” Adam asked, aware he sounded overly dramatic, the echo of the self he had been before Belle, before the Beast, when he had been the prince and never gainsaid by anyone. Maurice just laughed.

“Of course not, you young fool. She is my daughter, but I’m not blind—anyone can see how she looks at you. But you must see her, understand her, if you want to make her happy—and it may not be easy. She’s not an easy woman, Belle, even if she might seem that way,” Maurice said.

“Go on,” Adam said. He had not yet learned enough humility to ask for the guidance he needed but if it was being offered, as Maurice was doing…

“She read all the time because as odd as it was, the villagers could understand it. There have been women who loved God’s word before and this is France, we have had our troubadours, our lays, our Heloise to Abelard. They could not understand a woman who was an engineer, who could rebuild their crumbling bridge, their windmills, re-design a city to resist the plague. To be fair, I’m not sure where she might go that the people would know what to make of her. But you, you have been several selves already, have been transformed and taught, however bluntly, by Madame Agathe, to see within and to accept. You might be the making of her,” Maurice said, pausing. “And I should like to see it. Her mother was much the same and I only painted her. Don’t do that.”

“I haven’t the skill or the inclination,” Adam replied, considering what a lovely model Belle would make, except that the static representation could never capture her essential quality of action, her mind, her eye, her hand all vital and primed to observe and change what was around her.

“Devote your talents to other endeavors, then. Buy her more books, yes, but also a surveyor’s kit, some broken clocks, a quantity of charcoal and paper, and if there is an opportunity for you to consult an architect, invite the man to dinner,” Maurice said. “You’re lucky,” he added. “You may invite whatever guests will please her and not worry that she will prepare the meal. She has many gifts, but cooking bores her. The kitchen doesn’t take such inattention lightly.”

“No, I gather from Mrs. Potts it does not. Have you any other wisdom to impart?” Adam answered.

“Nothing you cannot divine for yourself. You are intelligent enough, even if you are not her equal. Don’t let her know it and don’t forget it. Now, what vintage will we share tonight? A Burgundy? I thought I smelled some capon…”

Just Friends

Summary: You and Adam are friends with benefits until one day he starts ignoring you

Words: 1,277 words

a/n: First time writing a wwe imagine here so I hope you’ll like it!!

There he was, all in his sexy body ignoring you again. This has been going for weeks now. You missed him so much. His touch. His kisses. The way your body felt when you were under his spell for the night.  Five weeks. Five long weeks without him and you didn’t know why. 

 Adam. You were both in a friends with benefits relationship. It just happened one night after all the build up tension and you both decided to not care anymore. Fuck it, as Adam would say. Ever since, he was always at your bed at night but gone in the morning leaving you craving with nothing but his body against you. 

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anything-with-strawberries  asked:

I don't know much about Sam Adams. Would ya please tell me some of your fave facts about him? Thanks!

mmmMMM let’s see what i can do

  • so most people remember sam adams for a) beer and b) the boston tea party. the funny thing is, he didn’t do either of these things. his branch of the adams family were maltsters, not brewers, and he didn’t throw any tea into the harbor either. some people try to claim that while he wasn’t present at the tea party, he organized it in some way, but y’know what, he probably didn’t
  • some historians, like joseph ellis in first family, also say that he probably provoked the boston massacre so that he could make propaganda off it. i hope to hell that’s not true i mean jeez. people died, saMUEL
  • he was pointedly okay with john adams defending the soldiers in the trial that followed the massacre, and thought it would be Good Publicity to show everyone that boston was not lawless and even hated redcoats could get a fair trial. there is a hint that he explicitly put the word out that people who weren’t okay with what john adams was doing were to leave him tf alone like?? can you imagine?? “hey guys don’t mob that nerd, he’s cool he’s also my bby cousin”
  • couldn’t hold down a job bc he was too invested in politics
  • he and john adams didn’t actually hate each other. upon meeting him, john adams thought he was great, dedicated to the cause, educated and truly Of The People. he just thought that sam should take more care of himself and his family and not put politics over that
  • while many other founding fathers were rich, or at least somewhat wealthy, sam adams had like $3
  • one time, some asshole tried to gift him a Black girl, y’know, as a slave. he and his wife were like *nervous laughter* “what is going on” and freed her. like can you imagine giving someone a human being as a gift??? perverse
  • you know that copley portrait, the one of him in the red coat?? i always suspected that hancock commissioned it for him, bc sam adams hadn’t the money and just wasn’t the kind of person who would have a giant portrait made of himself. AND I WAS RIGHT. IT WAS TOTALLY HANCOCK
  • the only thing that p much all sources agree on: sam adams didn’t dress well. his clothes were usually worn and out of fashion (he either couldn’t afford new ones or he just didn’t care) and he had to rely on the kindness of friends (probably hancock again) to buy nice stuff for him when he was going to philadelphia
  • except for the journeys to congress, he never left new england in his life
  • he and hancock kinda started out as mentor and protégé, being 15 years apart in age. they later had a huge falling out about…. idk, something, but they didn’t talk for several years. apparently sam adams was pissed that hancock was “acting like an aristocrat” or whatever. he was like super puritan and thought that a good leader in a republic had to be humble and not extravagant like hancock apparently was. it really distressed him that the people liked hancock anyway and kept electing him as governor. they reconciled tho and were antifeds together
  • supported jefferson and the demrepublicans in 1800, didn’t give A Shit that the other guy in that election was his own cousin
  • his sad demise in 1803 was the reason john adams was so scared of dementia
  • i’ve got more!!!!