one hell of a roofing job!

#3 My Neighbor's A Jerk

Summary: (Office AU) There’s this mutual feeling between you and your jerk of a neighbor, called hate. With every ounce of passion filled in your veins you both commence that feeling from day one of meeting each other. But what happens once, one of you are at the receiving end of the other’s help? Maybe you will learn how to co-operate?

Word Count: 2708

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Genre: RomCom

Warning: none

Author’s Note: finally, ik. But i don’t think i like this chapter all that very much. But still, enjoy! :)

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(gif is not mine*)

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Dauntless: Caffeine, Baby?

Eric x OC

Warnings: language


Wow, Eric was being more of an asshole then usual. I leaned against the wall with crossed arms as the new initiates filed past sleepily, hardly able to even hold their eyes open.

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Things Left Unsaid (Part 1)

Prompt: Imagine years ago, you used to work with Jonathan Pine and John Wick, and both of them were madly in love with you but chose to keep quiet for the job’s sake, and eventually, each of you went separate ways. When they find out you’re in trouble, they reunite and join forces to save you.

Warnings: language, death, killing….

Word Count: 5282

Notes: Spoiler alert-ish for the Night Manager and John Wick. Beta’d by my girl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes. Prompte from @theartofimagining13

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

How were you in this situation? Easy - you killed for a living. Ironic, isn’t it? You take the life of someone else to earn your own. It wasn’t that simple though. You killed people who you were ordered too - thankfully, so far, they were like you. Mob men, bodyguards, people who posed a threat to whoever your boss was. You didn’t kill random people, that would be sick.

But apparently no matter how you tried to justify what you did, you were still in Beijing, at the hands of the Chinese Mafia. You had gotten in over your head on this one. The hit was a big wig in the Chinese Mafia, you thought maybe you could take him but apparently you bit off more than you could chew.

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anonymous asked:

Firefighters AU. Imagine person A is <b>really</b> bad in the kitchen and keeps burning things and person B is the firefighter who keeps showing up and save the day.

“Aw, spaghetti, no,” Clint protested. He’d only gone to check his email for like five minutes, a huge stockpot of water shouldn’t boil away in that amount of time, but based on the blatting sounds coming from his ceiling and the roiling smoke clogging up the hall, that’s exactly what had happened. Either that, or he’d left a loaf of bread on the stove again and turned on the wrong burner. He’d done that, too. 

It couldn’t be microwave popcorn, this time, because he hadn’t put popcorn in. He was pretty sure, at least. Exhaustion had a way of having him running on autopilot. He knew he was tired, he had three part time jobs, all of which worked him a precise 32 hours per week because that was the most amount of hours he could have without qualifying for any sort of company health insurance. Not that he needed the insurance, but he would have liked some fucking overtime pay for the amount of hours he put in. 

It wasn’t the first time it had happened. It probably wasn’t going to be the last time, but it might well be the last time here. The fire department had been very clear, last time; one more house fire in this building and Clint was going to get fined. 

A fine was going to mean he couldn’t pay rent; which meant he was going to lose his nice comfortable loft apartment, and– 

God, the smoke was thick

What Clint needed was a fire alarm that would shut itself off when he yelled, “hey, I’m cooking here!” at it. 

His head was spinning lazily. The walls weren’t quite. Right. 

And the air was really, really hot. 

This wasn’t a cooking fire, Clint realized, suddenly, a few wisps of burned crumbs. Or even a more substantial cooking accident, like melting the stockpot onto the stove trying to make turkey broth. This was… an actual fire? 

Clint went to his knees in the hall. 

If it was an actual fire, even if it was something in the kitchen, and he’d left it on, at least the fire department wouldn’t be able to fine him. That was a good thought. His eyes were blurry, tears streaked his cheeks. Lucky was under his hands, whining. The dog bit hold of Clint’s tee shirt and tried to drag him down the hall. 

What the hell? 

The shirt ripped and Lucky barked frantically before erupting into some terribly painful sounding dog-coughs. 

Come to think of it, Clint was coughing, too. 

The floor was nice. Cooler. He laid down. 

(there’s a readmore line here; I always post to A03 within an hour of this post going live, so you can find it there along with my other fic)

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Every Letter (8/10)

Summary: A pen pal writing assignment connects a young Emma Swan with her best friend Killian Jones. Life sends many hardships their way, but their friendship remains solid through the years. As they both grow older and begin to realize what they want out of life, will their letters be enough? (On AO3.)
Rating: T
Word count: ~9500
Ch1 - Ch2 - Ch3 - Ch4 - Ch5 - Ch6 - Ch7 - Ch8 - Ch9 - Ch10 [Pt1] - Ch10 [Pt2]

Emma was frustrated, in more ways than one.

There was the regular frustration that came with the job of sheriff. Several people had had their houses egged and TP’d the past week and a half, and while Emma and David were both fairly certain that it was just a couple of high school kids acting up, no one had seen the perpetrators. And Emma was pretty sick of spending hours helping families remove hundreds of feet of toilet paper from their roofs and trees. She wasn’t frail by any means, but her back and shoulders ached with all the reaching. When they caught those damn kids, she was going to give them hell. Maybe let them spend a night or two in a cell to scare them straight. Or worse, put them to work on cleaning the school bathrooms. She relished in the thought of how she could punish the brats.

There was the mentally exhausting frustration that came from Walsh’s constant hovering. She’d skipped out on just a few dates with him and suddenly it was like he was clinging to her that much harder. And maybe part of that had to do with the fact that two weeks earlier she had told him point blank that Killian would be living with her and he had no say in the matter, but still… Endless texts, calls when she was in the middle of work, surprise visits during her lunch hour. One of those times, Killian had been seated across from her at her desk and they were eating Granny’s takeout, and without asking, he pulled up a chair and joined them. It had been a very awkward and uncomfortable experience for everyone.

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Doing cheer with ADD is like:

“Okay, girl, pay attention, the music’s about to start.”
“No, keep paying attention.”
“It’s show n go, basket, okay?”
“I can’t really see anything in this handstand part.”
“Shut up, just go with the bounces.”
“Stop looking at the roof!”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
“What was that sound?“
“Europa is such a pretty moon.”
“There’s lots of hair on the mats.”
“Time for jumps. One, two, on the floor.”
“You’re over here now. Toe-touch, pike, toe-touch.”
“You forgot to bend over.”
“What the hell comes next?”
“They should vacuum the mats. Who’s job is that? They could get one of those carpet sweepers.”
“My second base has really long hair. I don’t want to hurt her if it gets caught in my fingers.”
“Just load in already!”
“What’s she doing with my foot?”
“Hey, I can see the giant silvery ventilation wormies really good from up here!”
“I don’t care if you’re on time with the dance, just be in front of her before 3 or she’ll elbow you in the teeth again.”
“Stop spacing out.”
“Smile!”
“You know I don’t like smiling.”
“Shhh! I don’t want to hear that now. Just do it.”
“In that part of your book, you have to writ-”
“NO! Listen to the coach.”
“Those wormies look like they’re crawling out of a cave. Hello, wormies!”
“You’ve forgotten this again, haven’t you?”
“I don’t think I ever knew it”
“I think you can stand up now.”
“Oh.”

9

- fav fics challenge : Bagginshield || Modern!AU ; Haunted houses

If there were water by @stick-around-town (Stickman)

Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there’s something strange about Bywater House that he can’t quite figure out.

Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.

Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.

callout post @ my past self

I know you are questioning some shit and your trust issues are thru the ROOF but you are going to wake up one day in all your disgusting mess and realize HE AIN’T SHIT and you are going to leave him for the better and raise your kids right and they are going to turn out okay ! ! !  AND YOU SURE AS HELL ARE GOING TO TAKE EVERY SINGLE PROBLEM BY THE THROAT AND PUT IN A CHOKEHOLD. YOU ARE ALSO GOING TO BECOME VP AND SNATCH THAT FUCKING JOB BECAUSE IMMIGRANTS GET THE JOB DONE

Beauty and the Beast Part 2

Summary: Beauty and the Beast AU

Characters: Eventually Dean x Reader

A/N: So the much anticipated second part. I really hope that I lived up to any and all standards. Let me know what you think!!

Part 1

Originally posted by nanfandan

“I’m here about the help wanted sign”

The man simply looked at you, confusion evident in his face as he didn’t say anything.

“Is this a bad time because I can come back later”

This seemed to snap him out of it as he quickly shook his head “No no please come in”

You nodded slowly and hesitantly walked through the door, jumping slightly as you heard it shut behind you. The house you had stepped into was not as you expected. It seemed to be larger on the inside and much emptier, old, dusty furniture lined the walls and old pictures hung above them as you were led down the hall.

“Please have a seat” The man instructed you indicating a chair angled around an old fireplace you doubted even worked.

You hesitantly took a seat, and tried to take up the least amount of space as possible. However, soon footsteps were heard behind you causing you to stand up and spin around. There stood a man whom you assumed to be Dean, dressed in a long trench coat.

“Ohh visitors” The man’s face lit up with a smile as he walked towards you “can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee, tea?” before you could even form a thought he answered for you “Tea, I’ll get you tea” And with those words he walked off to the kitchen leaving you in stunned silence.

“Uhh look” You addressed the man who had met you at the door “I’m really just here for the job, I just need to talk to Dean”

“Dean right” The man mused to himself, thinking for a moment “Dean isn’t-uh-here at the moment.”

Well that meant the man in the trench coat wasn’t him “do you know how long he will be gone?” You pressed “I really need a job”

“I’m afraid he isn’t hiring at the moment” The man’s words came out much too quickly to be the truth.

“The sign out front says you are” You raised an eyebrow at him “Besides it would only be temporary, just a few days of work”

“He’s looking for someone with experience”

“Which I have plenty of” You tried to keep your voice calm as you spoke to him “Which I would tell Dean if I could just talk to him”

“Look” the man began only to be cut off by the voice of the man in the trench coat.

“Dean?”

“Yes I’m looking for him do you know where he is” You spoke up before the other man got a chance to.

“Yes would you like me to get him?”

“Yes” You said just as the other man said no.

The man in the trench coat, however, didn’t even hesitate before retreating back down the hall to get Dean. You could hear the other man sigh loudly causing you to smile in victory. This victory, however, was short lived as two sets of footsteps could be heard coming back towards you.

“I hear you wanted to see me” A deep groggy voice sounded before you saw Dean appear. He had no doubt just woken up, still clad in boxers and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.

“Yes I’m here about the job” You spoke, your breath nearly hitching as beautiful bright green eyes landed on yours.

His gaze quickly skimmed your figure before he shook his head and walked over to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of what you assumed was supposed to be your tea. “Not hiring”

“Please I just want to work for a little while, until I make enough money to get me back on my feet.”

“Still not hiring” He said in an almost bored tone that was tearing away at your patience rapidly.

“A few days at most, I just need enough money for gas so I can get out of town”

“Listen sweetheart” You had to keep your eyes from rolling at the nickname “In order to work in a mechanics shop you need to know about cars”

“Which I do” You spoke frankly, crossing your arms and clenching your jaw.

“I mean more than just cars need gas to run.”

“Ok then quiz me and I’ll prove I know what I’m doing”

Dean’s eyes studied your figure once again, his eyebrow cocked showing clear doubt “You know what I’ve got an old car out back that won’t start. I haven’t had the time to work on her but you get her to run and I’ll consider hiring you.”

“Consider?”

“That’s the best deal you’re getting sweetheart, take it or leave it”

This time you didn’t try to stop your eyes from rolling before you spoke “fine” You extended your hand and Dean shook it briefly before walking back down the hall without a word.

You watched him leave with mild curiosity before turning your attention back to the other two men in the room. They were both looking at each other, their faces showing that surprise as they seemed to be having some sort of silent conversation.

“Well would either of you like to show me to the car?” You forced their attention back to you as the taller one shook his head slightly.

“Right-uh-this way” He led you through the kitchen, grabbing a set of car keys off of the counter and walking out the back door to an old barn.

He pulled open the heavy door flooding the area with sunlight illuminating every dust particle that hung in the air causing you to cough.

Inside was an old 1967 Chevy Impala in pristine condition, the black paint shining brightly in the sun catching your breath. “This is the car?”

“No, you touch this and Dean will kill you” The man shook his head, pointing to the other side of the barn. “This is the car” It was a boring 90’s sedan, beat to absolute hell.

“I’d rather work on the impala” You mumbled walking towards the sedan, inspecting the heavily dented doors and roof before popping into the driver’s seat and putting the key into the ignition only to hear that the engine didn’t even turn over causing you to groan. “You know this is going to be more than a one day job right”

“Probably” the man nodded, “But the barns unlocked so you can come back tomorrow whenever”

You nodded and popped open the hood which only caused you to groan louder.

The man laughed slightly and stuffed his hands into his pockets “I’ll be in the house if you need me, tools are against the back wall” and with that he turned on his heel and walked back into the house, leaving you alone with the cars.

-

And so you worked all day, when dusk came the man in the trench coat came with it out to the barn, a sandwich on a plate and an old fashioned lantern in his hand.

He greeted you happily as he strolled through the bar and handed you half of a sandwich and setting the plate on the ground.

The two of you talked for a while, him doing most of the talking as you tinkered with the engine until you thought you finally had it figured out. You tossed the man, whose name you learned to be Cas, the keys and instructed him to start the car.

He happily sat behind the wheel and put the keys in the ignition. He turned them and immediately the engine began to turn over which in of itself made you want to shout for joy. However, you forced yourself to stay put as you watched all of its parts, trying to see what wasn’t working. That was, however, until the engine suddenly caught and sprung to life.

The purr of the engine filled the room causing you to jump up, pumping your fist in victory. Cas exited the car and walked around towards you, his face showing obvious surprise.

“You never doubted me for a moment right” You teased him, absolutely thrilled that you got the engine to start, and in one day no less.

“No I heavily doubted you” Cas spoke bluntly causing you to roll your eyes “I can’t believe it worked, I’ll get Dean”

“Nah don’t bother” You shook your head, putting your hand on his shoulder to keep him in place “I’ll tell him tomorrow”

“Well then I will see you tomorrow” Cas grinned at you as you grinned back.

“See you tomorrow Cas”

Handcuffs (Dean x Reader)

Prompt: Dean is infatuated with the fact that you know how to unlock handcuffs with a bobby pin, and asks you teach him, but things soon get a little heated. 

Song: In My Time Of Death- Led Zeppelin. 

Words: 2672

I was inspired by this!

(Please send me request if you feel led to do so.)

==

Shit!” You mutter under your breath. You’d been caught, and you sure as hell wasn’t happy about it. You had been on the FBI most wanted list for committing a “string of violent murders”, labeling you as a serial killer. It had always been a dream of yours to be labeled as so. You knew the police were right on your ass, but you had no idea they were this close.

“YOU’RE SURROUNDED!” A strong husky voice yelled from the other side of the thin wall. In a last minuet pursuit, you turned to run away only to find that you were indeed completely surrounded.

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP!” The voice demanded. You fell to your knees with your hands paraded high above you. A cop quickly ran behind you, pulling your arms down to secure them in hand-cuffs.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say will be held against you in a court of law.”

“I’ve heard it all before sweet thing.” You sarcastically flirted with the cop behind you. He shoved you in the back seat of the cop car:

“Shut up bitch.” He spat down at you.

“Hey, don’t be so sensitive.” You winked. He slammed the door in your face and quickly walking away from the car shooting you a glare of pure death. You let out a harsh breath and slumped down in the seat, trying to get somewhat comfortable. Suddenly the car shifted as someone sat in the drivers seat.

“Kid, you’re in to much trouble to be crackin’ jokes.” The middle aged man seated up front preached at you as he started his car.

“Well Officer, the way I see it, is I’m dying one way or another. Whether it be tomorrow or ten years from now, I should crack as many jokes as I damn so well please.” You as a matter-of-factly answered. He pulled out of the drive way of the house and started down the road:

“So is that why you killed all those people?” He interrogated.

“Listen, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m being framed.” You honestly admitted.

“And I’m actually the pope…” He replied sarcastically.

“Believe me or not, I’m telling the truth.” You rebuke.

“I just can’t believe we got two of you psycho’s in one day!” He admitted, relieved. You shifted in your seat and straightened your posture. You knew who he was talking about, but you were really hoping you were wrong.

“Who is it?” You asked obliviously.

“Some asshole who tried to kill a girl at Stanford last year. We are still looking for his brother. I gotta admit those boys are good.” He answered with a monotoned voice. Chills went down your spine, as you suddenly realized who he was talking about. “Damn it Dean….” You muttered underneath your breath.

==

“Y/N. Y/M/N. Y/L/N.” A young women said with a condescending tone as she walked through the door way. She had a dark, intimidating mannerism, sending chills down your spine. “You know what kid, you have got yourself in some serious shit.” She stated sitting down. “And it’s my job to find out why you did it…” You rolled your eyes.

“Good luck sweetheart, but all you’re going to get out of me is that I didn’t do it.”

“I don’t buy that for one second…” She quickly rebuked, intensifying the eye contact you both had. “Describe your first victim.” She said look down at her note pad.

“I don’t even know who the first victim was…” You rebuke. She looked up at you dumbfounded that you had the audacity to say something like that to her. She sat back in her chair.

“What did you just say?” She said crossing her arms.

“I said: I don’t know who the first victim is. Nothing about them, their hair color, what they did for a living, nothing. You can hook me up to a lie detector and then ask me the same damn question and you won’t get a damn thing.” You say leaning forward. The woman stood up and walked out the door, this time with less authority. You leaned back in your chair admiring the silence in the room. She walked back in, stopping in the door way.

“Fine, Y/L/N, we’ll take you up on that offer.” Behind her was a man holding the lie detector. He walked over to the table hooking you up to machine. The woman sat back down across the table, staring directly into your eyes. The machine roared to life next to you, starting to draw small waves across the paper.

“Now I’ll ask one more time. Describe the first victim.” She said in hushed tone as she leaned forward. You mimicked her, moving forward whispering: “I don’t even know who it was.” The man looked down at the machine watching the waves, He looked up at the women across from you. “She’s not lying.” He simply stated. You leaned back in your chair as relief washed over you. The women rose from her seat and walked over to your side of the table undoing your handcuffs: “The man outside the door will take you to the lobby, they’ll do your paper work and take you off the list. Stay out of trouble.” She stated walking away from you. A man about your age stood outside the door and lead you to the front desk.

“What can I do for you?” The old woman said with a husky breath, obviously from smoking. You watched the guard walk away from you.

“Can you tell me where this man is?” You asked pointing at a picture of Dean the you had in your pocket.

“He’s back in the very last room on the right. Can I ask why you want to know…” She asked with a monotone voice.

“I gotta couple of questions to ask.” You say as cheekily hold up your fake FBI badge. You had done some pretty stupid stuff, but showing a fake ID in place where you were just arrested for begin a serial killer just made its way to the top of the list.

“Last room on the right.” She absent mindedly pointed. Either she didn’t watch the news or she was just really bad at her job, but you didn’t stop to ask. You quickly made your way to the back room to see if anybody was questioning him. You looked through the one way mirror to see him sitting by himself with his head leaned back staring at the roof. You popped the lock on the door and quickly made your way into the room. Dean quickly look over at you.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” He started.

“Dean no time we gotta get you outta here. My name was cleared, you on the other hand could be facing the death penalty!” You say pulling a bobby pin from your hair.

“Do you have the keys?” He asked innocently.

“No, I’ve got something better.” You say holding up the pin you just pulled from your hair. You started working on the hand cuffs to unlock them.

“Now what the hell are-“ Dean started but was cut off by the popping sounds of the handcuffs falling from his wrists.

“Oh man, you gotta teach me that.” He sad in awe.

“Not now, Come on!” Suddenly you heard sirens starting to go off through out the station. “That doesn’t sound good.” You say pointing up.

“The window.” Dean simply said as he walked over to it, kicking it out of the frame. He jumped through pulling you out after himself. You both quickly made your way down the fire escape to your car, that was impounded. You jumped the fence surrounding the impound getting into the drivers seat starting the car, making the car roar to life. Dean quickly jumped in your car. You sent you car in to gear, taking off before Dean even had a chance to close the door. You busted through the yellow fence guard, sending sparks flying off of your hood. You hastily made your way down town away from all the commotion.

“I can drive better than you!!” Dean remarked as held on for dear life while you sped.

“I take that as a complement, Winchester.” You sarcastically rebuke, winking at him.

==

“So about that bobby pin thing, you gotta teach me that!” Dean said as he caught you walking down the hallway.

“Oh it’s nothing, just something I learned from Bobby, ironically enough.” You say laughing a bit. “I know this is gonna sound weird but I have hand-cuffs in my car, I can try teaching you.” You say kind of embarrassed to admit that.

“Kinky.” Dean smirked.

“Shut up Winchester.” You rebuked. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Dean said watching you walk off, he grabbed for his phone in his back pocket and quickly called Sam.

“Hey man, I’m good. You’re not gonna believe who came and helped me get out.” Dean revealed.

“Who?” Sam asked intrigued on the other line.

“Y/N!” Dean halfway yelled.

“WHAT?!” Sam yelled astonished through the phone.

“Dude, I know! Can you drive over with Baby by tomorrow and pick me up?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, I guess. What’s her address?” Sam asked reaching for a pen and pad.

“4568 Kivett Drive, 678 Atlanta, Ga.” He read off of one of your phone bills.

“I never thought she would live in Atlanta. Okay, yeah i’ll be there to get you tomorrow.” Sam said sitting the pad down.

“Alright man, see you then.” Dean said hanging up the phone as you walked back through the front door.

“I found them.” You say holding them up.

“Alright, lets get this party started.” Dean said clapping his hands together. You sat down (with the key in your other hand, obviously) and handcuffed yourself to the chair. Dean picked up a bobby pin that was sitting on the table and started working at the lock. Dean started getting frustrated seeing that it was a lot harder than it seemed.

“Just work the lock until you hear it click.” You say trying to help him.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He said smirking at you still concentrated on the lock. You took the key and unlocked the cuffs, gesturing Dean to sit down so you could show him. He sat down, watching you cuff him to the chair. You turned and sat the key down on the table behind, grabbing the bobby pin. You squatted down and started working the lock. Dean watched you carefully, but not in educational way, he watched you hungrily. He was snapped out of his trance as the cuffs popped off. You straightened up:

“See?” You say gesturing at the handcuffs.

“Hey do it again, I didn’t quite catch that.” Dean innocently asked. You huffed air as you put the handcuffs back around his wrists. You turned around to grab the bobby pin until you felt Dean’s hand on your lower thigh. You looked down at him as he tightly gripped your thigh. He carefully led you closer to him. You stood over him looking down, completely taken over by lust.

“Dean?” You questioned. He leaned forward grabbing the keys to the handcuffs that you had put in your back pocket. He undid the cuffs standing up, now towering over you.

“You’re so beautiful, and you’re so badass. You know how to drive me crazy in every way.” He admitted looking at every detail of your face closely, finally resting upon your eyes. You looked down avoiding his eye contact. He rested his hand softly underneath your chin bringing you back to eye contact. You rested your hands behind his head bringing his lips down to yours. Your lips crashed together, at first it was sweet and innocent, but the kiss soon turned to pure hunger as you both tore at each others clothing. Dean picked you up, pushing you up against the wall. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him into you closer. You could feel him growing harder against you. He pulled his shirt over his head tossing across the room, quickly going back to kissing you. He let you down, you took advantage of the situation, jokingly running away from Dean, causing him to chase after you. He chased you into your bed room, running up behind you to push you on to the bed, but you quickly move putting him in front of you. You push him down on the bed, moving to stratal his waist. Dean’s hands found their way to the bottom of your shirt, quickly disposing of it. He tossed it across the room, along with your bra. With in seconds, both of your clothes were thrown all about the house. Dean hovered over top of you, he softly begins to kiss your neck moving down to your collar bone, biting and sucking, leaving marks spastically.  You moaned in pure ecstasy, as he found the sweet spot on your neck. You looked down at Dean catching his lips, passionately kissing him. While your doing so, Dean slams into you unexpectedly. You screamed, arching your back as he pushed in and out of you. You grabbed hungrily at his skin, moaning his name. You could feel the coil in your lower abdomen grow tighter and tighter as you came closer to your high. You arched your back, as Dean began to thrust sloppily. Suddenly the coil broke, and you screamed Dean’s name relentlessly. As you did so Dean’s head dropped as he moaned in pure ecstasy. Dean fell over next to you, pulling you into his chest.

“Damn… ” He softly breathed into your ears.

“Dean, I-“ You started as you rolled over.

“Y/N, Sam and I have known you a majority of our lives, and ever since the day we met I have wanted to be yours. I wanted to be the one to help you when you fall and the one to be there with you always.” Dean admitted to you with a hoarse voice.

“Dean…” You breathed. “I had no idea.”

“Well now you do…”  He said looking over your shoulder as he softly rubbed it. “Would you consider hunting with me and Sammy?” He asked reconnecting the eye contact.

“Yes.” You say as you softly kiss him on the lips. He smiled at you, as he pulled you closer into his chest. He began softly humming the tune, of Simple Man into your ears as you drifted off into sleep.

==

“Dean… DeaN… DE- oh god.” Sam said as he walked into your bed room and saw you both laying there. You and Dean began to wake up a bit.

“Sam?… SAM!!” You screamed reaching to cover yourself up with the covers. Dean jumped, grabbing for the gun on your night stand.

“I guess it’s safe to say that you two feel same way about each other.” Sam admitted uncomfortably. “I’ll be out here.” He said pointing back to your living room. Dean got up and started to get dressed:

“I’m gonna go tell him about you hunting with us you can get your stuff together.” Dean said as he searched for his shirt.

“Your shirts in the living room, and okay.” You say as you prance over to him kissing his lips.

“Get your stuff together.” He said smiling down at you. You grabbed your duffel bags putting all your clothes in one and all your guns in the other. You carried them into the living room seeing Sam and Dean talking. Sam noticed your entrance and stood up.

“Y/N, I’m really happy you’re hunting with us now. But uh remind me to not let you guys around handcuffs…” Sam said holding up the cuffs. You blushed as Dean looked back at you with a smirk on his face. You had no idea what you were in for.    

Gossamer: a JJ Project Request

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Originally posted by imjaeboms

I think the hardest part of letting go is that you never really just let go. Maybe you can’t hold it in your hands anymore, but it’s still with you. The feelings. The pain. The memories.

You hold onto the pain because it’s the easy thing to do. Sometimes it’s all that’s left, but if you let it stay with you, then it just makes forgetting that much easier. 

And if you stay mad, you forget the person who made letting go so hard in the first place.

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If There Were Water by stickman

“Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there’s something strange about Bywater House that he can’t quite figure out.

Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.

Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.”

Why it is important to tip/respect your servers right.

Just a little background, I’m a waitress/hostess at a Denny’s near me. During the week I serve and sometimes on the weekends, but normally on weekends I host. I’ve been waitressing for quite a few months now and I’ve been working at the diner for almost two years (give or take). I say this because I know how things work, I know good customers from bad and ect. I know all my coworkers very well and how important their money is to them. 

So tonight I had two girls come in, I knew them both when I was a freshman and I run into one of them frequently at her store. Of course, I take them because I know them, and its just kinda easy to take care of people you know. I gave them plenty of time to review the menus and look over their options and stuff like I’m suppose to. When I asked if they were ready they pretty much knew what they wanted and they were reasonably priced meals. One of the girls ordered from the value menu that we offer (this is not the girl that gave me the issue) The other girl added on something to one of her items and it of course, it is extra

As a server, you’re trained to go back periodically and check in with your guests and make sure that everything is alright, and make sure that their drinks are refilled and plates are pre-bussed. Each time I checked up on them they needed something, not a big deal, I went and got it and I asked them how everything was and they said it was ok, each time.  

When I went back to offer dessert or anything else they said no, and that they just wanted their check, the one girl with the add on asked for a box to-go. She had a little bit left on her plate, but mostly everything was eaten. When I brought the check to them they were reviewing it and called me back. She was asking why there was an extra charge on her meal, I explained that it was an add on and it needed to be charged.

Now I understand at some places you can let things slide and hook your friends up but when its a “chain” kind of restaurant its really not possible.

She goes on and is trying to figure out how her side of the check was about ten dollars, she ordered a soda, at my restaurant thats two bucks. Anything that isn’t tap water, is priced. She complained about each one of her items that  came with her meal, after she had eaten all of it. (Also, I had to exchange one of her items for something else because she didn’t like the way it was cooked, and at my restaurant we try to do out best at fixing things and making things most enjoyable for our guests)  I said to her “I can get my manager if you’d like, and she can sort this out with you and take care of it.” She denied my offer and went on to complain about her food and whatever and at this point I was beyond pissed, and I told her she can go and figure things out, as politely as I could, and walked away from the table.

They go up to pay and my manager is cashing them out and she asks “How was everything?” and they said it was fine. This gets me even more mad because the one girl was throwing a fit because her drink was two fucking dollars and she had an add-on for .79 cents. The girl who didn’t have a problem with her food paid for the entire check (18 dollars and change) They walk out and I explain to my manager what happened and she found it completely ridiculous (she is a server as well and understands what its like) 

When I go to finish bussing the table and wipe it down I see that they did in fact leave me a tip, twenty-five cents. Any server would have more respect if they didn’t leave a tip at all. Twenty-five cents is a slap in the fucking face. 

Every server has their own story, theres not one server that is serving you for the hell of it, because they like it, or because they feel like doing something good for others. The servers you see in restaurants have bills, just like you. They have families, just like you. They could be paying for their college classes, or trying to pay off college loans, just like you might be. Your server at IHOP or Chili’s or even a higher end restaurant could be a single mother of two working two waitressing jobs, trying to put food on the fucking table and keep a roof over her kids heads, and maybe see their kids ten hours out of the whole week, they may come home just in time to tuck them into bed and kiss them on the forehead goodnight. 

I’ve seen it and experienced it where there is a large check, lets say 100 dollar check, and they leave a fucking five dollar tip. Or my personal favorite is when its a large party, they all get separate checks and they each leave one dollar (if that) and then compliment on how good their server was. Please, if you don’t learn anything from this post just know that compliments don’t pay the bills.

Please understand that if you don’t have the money, don’t go out and eat, and if you don’t have food at home, just go to a fast food joint and get a bunch of food there. Don’t come to a sit down restaurant where a  server takes your drinks, prepares your appetizers, gets you your six extra sides of ranch, and three refills of cherry coke to give them a two dollar tip. It’s not fair. Especially in bigger, higher end restaurants. Those kind of restaurants have to give a percentage of their tips to buss boys, bartenders, hosts, and food runners if they have them. You can go on to any social media website and search something like “Server Problems” or “Server Life” or anything like that and see the bullshit people do to us. It’s rude and disgusting and fucked up. 

This is not the first check that I’ve seen like this either on these pages. 

If you want to do something nice for someone and take them out to eat, make sure that you repay your server for doing all that work for you. Even if they do a shitty service job, the minium gratuity is 15% (in the states anyways.)

Hostessing on holidays really shows you what people are like, you’ll have parties of fifteen come in, have almost a two hundred dollar check and leave a seven dollar tip. Ive seen two servers give the tip back because its just insulting. Then you’ll have a small family of four with a maybe a 30-50 dollar check and they’ll leave anywhere between a 15-30 dollar tip. 

My recommendation, If you can afford to take a loved one out, and go all out, and cant leave a reasonable tip, make them a home cooked meal. You’ll save the money and your loved one will probably be just as happy, if not more because it came from the heart. 

Everyone everywhere has a story, has a life, has something they’re working towards or just be trying to get by. This is just from a servers stand point, I’m sure someone on here can give you something like this and they work in retail, banking, or they’re a mechanic. Just treat people how you would want to be treated, or how you’d want your children, or significant other or who ever raised you, anyone you care dearly for, to be treated. 

thewriterchick  asked:

PROMPT: Darcy gets stuck on her way to work when the snowstorm stalls the subway. She thinks she's going to be alone and bored when the train sticks, but then notices that Steve's on the train, too.

Darcy stares blearily at her coffee cup. Her iPod is blasting her “good morning’ mix in her ears. It would be a good morning, except she’s headed to work at six o’clock after having been there until nearly midnight the night before. Jane is driven, of course, and always has been, but now there’s like a fire under her feet while she works on documenting all of the things Thor has been able to tell her about the universe.


She leans her head against the window and closes her eyes. She can’t sleep – that would be creepy, but there’s no one else in the car with her, or at least no one else making noise, so she can take a break.


Suddenly, the car jolts. Darcy opens her eyes.


There’s a ding, and then a voice says, “The New York City Department of Transportation would like to apologize for the inconvenience…”


Darcy nearly swears. The train is stopped. And she’s all by herself. And vaguely, she realizes, she has to pee.

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Thoughts on 3x12

This episode is more than I could expect (except the fucking hug) 

Not only they heavily implied that Emma couldn’t trust anyone even if she had started dating again, but Emma ended by trusting a stranger, Hook, over Walsh. This is one fucking huge deal, because between marriage and moving your life upside down there’s no big difference (Emma implied it very well) Yet, Emma does take a leap of faith even after not trusting anyone and she does it with Hook. 

It’s one big deal and I can’t stop smiling, I’m not saying she agreed to marry Hook, but it’s just like it, she put her faith in his hands and she believed him. She said him yes.

And after that, you have heavy parallels implied with Henry, how Hook is doing what he did, coming back to her and bringing her home to her parents, this is season one in one single episode, the implication of true love are screamed and shouted off the roof loudly now. He did what her son did before him, and he did bring he back home.

Hook is still himself, yet, he did one hell of a job, and he did it well. He brought the lost girl home. More, he made her believe and take a leap of faith. Coming from Emma, it’s everything

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

The staple of the Black community has been the Black church since accepted via slavery. Week in and week out Black folk have poured themselves into a system of belief that has done nothing for them since it was forced upon them via slavery. Mental brainwashing has you programmed to actually believe this jesus/god has answered your prayers to help you get that dream job but not one prayer was ever answered prayed by your Ancestors to stop the hell of slavery in which they lived. Even now the executions of the many Black Men, Women and children at the hands of the police today…

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

Mental brainwashing by a religious system of belief in a jesus/god has you really believing that’s gods plan was for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. to be assassinated on that balcony. Or for Sandra Bland to be murdered in a jail cell, Dylan Roof to execute those 9 in the church in S.C., even more that gods plan was for the many little innocent girls to be raped by an adult. Yes your god does work in mysterious ways.

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

The Black community has been plagued by the Black Church since the days of slavery as a tool for white supremacy to continue to mentally shackle and enslave Black people. Since the days of slavery the Black church has continously sold a dream that no one awake has ever received. The Black church each Sunday, Wednesday and some Fridays serve to take energy, effort and capital from the Black community for its own selfish gain. How can your all powerful god depend on financial contributions to operate..?

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL

The Black Church has financially drained the Black community since slavery and never offered a dime/penny to help the community in which it is located. The Black Church itself has the capital to build each ghetto into a better standard of living for its Black members. The Black church has the capital to buy land, create jobs, build homes, schools even fund college tuition and cover healthcare for the uninsured. But it doesn’t! Each week Black folk flood the church tithing money they don’t have to spare but don’t want to ‘rob god’…how can a man/woman of the flesh rob the almighty..?

Each week the church adds to its bank account, portfolio and investments while many of its members give their last. It’s time for the Black church to give back and build up the Black communities that serve, support and fund them. If not..,

TELL YOUR CHURCH TO GO TO HELL!

A Bagginshield Fic Rec by Sansael

So I asked my followers to ask me to make a hobbit fic rec list, and avelera did, so here I am. 

In no particular order:

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe

In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End.
He’d left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

Possibly one of best Thorin survives fics, with everything in the package: Shire, lil Frodo, romantic poetry, Dwalin adopting all of the little hobbitlings in the Shire, miscomunication, man, so much of miscomunication is going on in the fic. And a happy ending. 

Katabasis by LittleBigSpoon

WIP, and it seems that the author abandoned their fic.

After the Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo lies as still as death, and no earthly force will wake him. When a ghostly apparition offers Thorin the chance to recover Bilbo’s absent spirit from the underworld, he accepts without hesitation.
So begins the second Quest of Thorin’s lifetime.
Through half-remembered dreams and terrifying nightmares, beyond strange worlds to stranger shores, the Heirs of Durin will tirelessly, doggedly search for their burglar.
This is their task, their penance: find Bilbo, or else be condemned to wander forever more, never to return home.

Despite being a WIP, I am totally recommending to read this. You must read the fic where Thorin, Fili and Kili travel through different worlds, encountering different versions of Bilbo and people they know, trying to bring their Bilbo back. 
Honestly, I’d probably give my little finger for this fic to be finished.

The Unexpected Hobbit: A Journey by  alkjira

WIP

An AU wherein Thorin is the Hobbit and Bilbo is the king of Dwarfs. Somehow this didn’t turn out to be crack.
-
“Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf began, and Thorin started a little at the use of that name. He hadn’t known that Gandalf was even aware of it. How much had the old man been snooping around? “May I introduce the leader of our company –”
The Dwarf held up his hand to Gandalf in a signal for quiet and gave a short but courteous bow as he held Thorin’s gaze.
“Bilbo Baggins, at your service,” he said and finally stepped inside, a bemused Thorin giving way almost without thought. Whoever this was, if he would dare to quiet Gandalf – well, perhaps this night still had a chance to turn for the better.

I think one of few role-reversal fics. Despite being put in mirror situation, both Bilbo and Thorin are never OOC, and the background worldbuilding the author areated is amazing.

there’s fantasy, there’s fallacy, there’s tumbling stone by  brodinsons (aeon_entwined)

Inspired by euclase’s commentary on this post: This makes me want an AU where Thorin Oakenshield is imprisoned by elves and/or enemy dwarves, and to humiliate the king, they cut off his hair and shave off his beard. And after his eventual escape, starved and broken, Thorin hides out in the Shire, where it takes ages for Bilbo to even get him out of bed let alone out the front door. And they fight and argue, and Thorin is a terrible, filthy, weakened, depressed shell of a king. But eventually he does recover, and he and Bilbo get to know each other better, and Thorin teaches Bilbo how to shoot arrows and wield axes on sunny afternoons while Bilbo shows Thorin how to garden. And Thorin’s not sure he has it in him to return home until Fili and Kili and a few others who’ve been searching for him show up on Bilbo’s front stoop—just as they did years before, but of course their quest is much different this time.

One of the earliest and, to this day, best fics. At some point timelines may not add up,  but the plot and the execution are so nice that you quickly forget about such a small detail. A good fix-it fic from the times when we haven’t really needed fix-it fics.

so i wait for you like a lonely house by  stopchasingflowers

After the desolation of the dragon, Bilbo loses his voice and Thorin loses his throne.

Another of the early post-AUJ fics. When I feel particularly bad, or really need a good Bagginshield fluff with a dose of angst, I go and reread this fic. The best thing is that it never once contradicts with Botfa movie, even making Thorin a total dork. 

lay down your sweet and weary head by  Elenothar

WIP

Thorin dies. Thorin wakes up. He is understandably confused by this, especially since he appears to be in the Erebor he knew as a young dwarf, about to be attacked by a dragon.
A time-travel fic with Thorin as the one living his life twice.

If you are tired of fics where Bilbo goes back in time and saves everyone (not that those are bad, they are absolutely awesome, it’s just I crave for more Thorin) this one is for you. A lot of confused and guilt-riddled Thorin (what is new), Durin family dynamics, a very much alive Frerin, and the Company.

Into The Fire by  blackdragonqueen

WIP

He was given one year to try again and make things right.

Another Thorin time travelling fic, but with a plotline of Dis and Dain in Blue Mountains, and all in all, a good story to make you feel better.

Drowning on Dry Land by  authoressjean

Will’s still looking for the peace and silence he found one day after he got swept under the waves. Try as he might, he still can’t drown himself. It’s always one thing or another, on the boardwalk: if it’s not for his own inability to hold himself under the water, it’s Thornton who refuses to stop pestering him.
Maybe he’ll find the peace he wants on the boardwalk. Maybe he’ll find it with the man who grins all the time and keeps wearing red and white striped tops like he’s a goddamn pirate. And maybe, just maybe, he won’t mind.

A modern AU. Man, back at the time this fic made my lungs stop working, it is so good. A melancholic note is something I dig. TW for suicidal thoughts & attempted suicide. But a happy ending :)

Prayers to Broken Stone by avelera

Twisted by the effects of dragon sickness, Thorin banishes not only Bilbo but the entire company from Erebor. Days pass with no word from their missing leader and, fearing the effects the gold may have on the other dwarves, Bilbo decides to enter the mountain alone in search of Thorin.
What he finds may not be Thorin for much longer.
Or: In which the dragon sickness is slowly transforming Thorin into a dragon, and Bilbo must save him before it is too late.

I could write an essay on why this fic is so good, but long story short, this is a very good fic. There is everything you might want from a Bagginshield fic. AND Avelera managed to predict certain phrases and themes from Botfa way before Botfa was released. Basically, this is Botfa if a certain headcanon from the fic was true.

If There Were Water by  stickman

Bilbo Baggins might be in over his head. He’s purchased an old stone house atop a hill overlooking a city he doesn’t know, and plans to live quietly, largely ignoring the rest of the world. But it’s early April, the rainy season, and the roof leaks, and there’s something strange about Bywater House that he can’t quite figure out.
Thorin Oakenshield is in his fourth month of trying to reconcile his own grief with his failures at anything remotely resembling a competent single parent, living out of a shoebox flat with Fíli (seven, sullen, and stubborn as hell) and Kíli (five, resilient but cracking), working crap jobs and hating everything including himself.
Under the cover of rainy afternoons and sleepless nights, roof repairs and building restoration, Bilbo and Thorin try to figure out how one navigates isolation, and how one breaks out of it. Every step they manage to take forward finds them dragged back again; every question asked has too many answers, or too few. This is a story about living in a world where everyone is on their own, always, and how things go on.

Modern AU. Wouldn’t recommend reading at night from your phone. Better read it in the daylight, because at times it is rather scary. stick-around-town managed to thread together the Haunted House Story with Tolkien trivia so well that you forget where one ends and the other starts. 

How the West Was Won and Where It Got Us by  stickman

Bilbo is a harried 1st year British literature Ph.D. (early 20th century fiction) who happens to have an interest in spatial narrative structures, a lack of time-management skills, and a tiny apartment with a lot of books and very little furniture. He’s stressed, always, and doesn’t quite know where he belongs. He tells himself that really, this is, in fact, what he wants to be doing. But sometimes, as much as he loves books, he gets an urge to do something with his hands.
Thorin is a disgruntled M.Arch. 1 in his last year who can’t be arsed to shave and frightens his students, and, frankly, his profs, but his work is top-notch so no one can really say much. They can, however, bully him into running a hands-on design workshop on Saturday mornings, which is complete crap, because he’s used to drinking his Friday nights into oblivion so showing up at Milstein at 7:45 the next morning and trying to teach in a room of wall-to-wall windows as the sun rises is not at the top of his list. Besides, no one ever shows up.
Except one morning, someone does.
[graduate school AU]

Hands down, best modern AU ever written. What I love about this story is the fact that both Bilbo and Thorin are so real. You don’t read it and think ‘oh this is so Bilbo’, you think ‘This is so Bilbo but holy shit I think I’d act the very same way in this situation, I think I’d be afraid to open my mouth as well now, I think I’d be confused and would say what I want to as well’. And there is no conventional happy ending in the story. Stick told me that she is likes it when you have to earn your happy ending, and I definitely agree. Thou daresay, Bilbo and Thorin are well on the road of earning theirs.

At the Turn of the Year by northerntrash

They say that strange things live in the woods, fair folk and things more spirit than man; don’t step between the old oaks, parents mutter to their children, or they might find you, and eat you. Thorin never believed that, but now winter is settling into his bones, the shadows are growing longer through the hoar frost, and he is lost among the trees.
And it was there that Thorin met him, that strange, laughing creature, walking barefoot through the bracken.

Honestly, I don’t even know what to say, except this fic left me shell-shicked  for days. Best read at the rainy day with a cup of a hot beverage.

Beauty series by  alkjira

Where Thorin thinks he’s not what anyone would call beautiful but where he is still the most beautiful thing Bilbo could ever imagine.
Notes:
Love is only blind if you don’t bother to look.

A series where Thorin is considered ugly by dwarven standarts and with all the consequences of having grew up believing no one would love him because of his looks. Of Course Bilbo proves him wrong.

notjustaflashinthepan-sexual  asked:

Interestingly, there are already people saying that maybe Niall meant to like and share that headline. Like, how often do they GENUINELY tweet? My guess is not too often. But apparently we don't want to accept that. I mean, I know they've been communicating more, so people want to believe they are communicating with the boys, but the truth is that we don't know and we won't ever know, realistically, when they are tweeting and when the person hired to tweet is tweeting,

Are. You. Kidding. Me. ???? People are saying that???? I’m just….

I’m sorry, but I almost don’t know what to say to that. Social Media Manger is a legit title for a profession. It’s. A. Job. There are companies devoted to it. Hell, I even have a friend who does this job part time from home. The average U.S. salary for a social media manager is $46k/year.

I don’t know why this is still a question.  One Direction is literally worth millions of $$$.  Do people actually comprehend how many people they have working for them in virtually every capacity???  They are a brand.  A business.  With real people depending on their success.  Their success=paychecks for so many.  It = food on their table, a roof over their family home.  Multi million dollar businesses don’t manage their own social media accounts.  They just don’t.  They have access, sure.  They are not the only ones tweeting from their accounts.  And your last point:   the truth is that we don’t know and we won’t ever know, realistically, when they are tweeting and when the person hired to tweet is tweeting.

It deserves to be bolded and people should remember that this applies to ALL members of the group.  We will honestly never know.  We can make a lot of highly educated guesses based upon what we do know and I’m sure we’re often right.  But I am equally sure that we are sometimes wrong.