rabbit on a chair

  • what she says: I'm fine.
  • what she means: In Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Roger puts his hand down on a dusty chair. When he takes his hand away there are finger prints in the dust. Someone took the time to make sure the prints matched exactly to his cartoon hands. The editing is flawless. So much love and attention went into this movie, so many details that would only be seen through careful re-watching. Also you get to see Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny in the same scene which is pretty cool.

A little more weight over my shoulders and I’m going to fall.

Un poco más de peso sobre mis hombros y voy a caer.

goodnight, noises everywhere

Mod Gotham says: Here’s how I’ve processed my intense feels from 03x09…

Originally posted by jamesandclairefraser

“Now, let’s see…what do you want to read tonight?”

Four-year-old Brianna furrowed her wee red brows, clutching her stuffed rabbit tightly, settling deeper under the thick quilt.

“Goodnight Moon, Mama?”

Claire tilted her head, questioning. “But we just read that one last night, love. Surely you can pick another story out of all the books in this room? What about the ones you just got for your birthday?”

Yet Brianna shook her head, red curls still a bit damp from her bath. “George wants to hear it again.”

Claire’s heart lurched, just a bit. For this girl’s stubbornness echoed that of someone she once knew and cared for – deeply. But to think of him now…

She coughed, turned to Brianna’s nightstand, and retrieved the much-loved book. Cuddling right up next to her daughter, she opened the cover.

“Can you help me start?”

Bree moved George in the circle of her arm so that he could better see the pages. “In the great green room, there was a telephone…”

Jamie settled against the damp stone at the entrance to the cave, sipping the weak stew he’d been living on since finding three rabbits in his snares a few days before.

The weather had turned tonight. November often brought hints of winter’s chill, tempered with the warmer winds of October. But this night felt like proper winter – the cold seeping through his rags and into his bones, settling in the ice around his heart.

Had Claire made it safely back through the stones, and had she borne their bairn – the child would be nearly four now. He would never know, of course – and thanked God for it. For not knowing allowed him to dream.

On nights like these, the moon reminded him of his time spent at the abbey in France, while healing from the head wound that had nearly killed him. The dark, quiet hours in the cold, cold chapel, hours spent in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. A beacon of white – of hope – amid the shadows. A reminder that he was not quite alone.

The Man in the Moon. He minded his own father telling him stories when he was a lad – about the man who lived up there, with his wife and family, raising white sheep and white pigs and white cows.

Did Claire and the bairn see – and know – the same moon? Did they tell the same stories? Was it a full moon for them tonight, as it was for him?

“Lord, that they may be safe…” he breathed, sipping from the now-cold stew.

“It was amazing, to see that today.” Claire quietly sipped her mug of oolong, legs folded on the couch. Brianna crouched by the fire, adding a few more logs.

“The pictures looked so – so fantastic.” Roger crossed his legs in the overstuffed chair Frank had always loved, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. “I remember reading stories about such things, when I was a lad – never thought I’d live to actually *see* it.”

Brianna stood, set the grate back in front of the fire, and crossed the room to sit between them. “I just hope we get there before the Russians do. Then perhaps all this nonsense about a ‘space race’ would be over and done with.”  

“And live in a time of peace,” Claire breathed. “That’s what we all want, isn’t it?”

“I thought it was beautiful how the astronauts read from the Bible,” Roger continued. “How…how awed they were at the sight.”

Claire turned to face her daughter – and for a split second saw the naked love in Roger’s eyes, before he tore his gaze away from Brianna.

So she would not be alone. Praise be to God.

“Do you remember how many times we read Goodnight Moon, when you were small?”

No – I can’t cry – I won’t cry…

“Goodnight Moon? Is that a children’s book?”

“It is,” Brianna smiled at Roger. “A small rabbit wishes goodnight to all the things in his room. ‘Goodnight bears, goodnight chairs, goodnight kittens, and goodnight mittens…’”

It was a long while before Claire finally spoke again. “Of course the story was easy enough for her to follow, when she was so small. Just…a litany of goodnights. And it helped that she had many of those same items in her bedroom. Made the story a bit more real for her.”

Behind her – around her – Jamie sighed, snuffling into the side of her neck. *I’m here, with you,* his arms told her. *We are together now….we share one mind, one heart. I understand.*

“Do bairns in that time ken about the Man in the Moon?” he whispered, chin settling on her shoulder, watching the white light dance on the waves.

“Of course. We talk about him – but there aren’t many stories about him.” She turned to rub her nose against his. “Do you know any stories?”

“I do. A few, from my father, mostly. I’ll tell you, one day. We have the time now.”

In the dark she sought his lips – and he met them in a long kiss.

“We do,” she breathed against his mouth. “Thank God. We do.”

“What do ye mean ye dinna ken the stories of the Man in the Moon?” Jamie’s voice raised theatrically in the small room. “How have ye lived all this time wi’out hearing them?”

“We ken Goodnight Moon,” Jem offered. “Mam would read it to me and Mandy every night, at Lallybroch. But she never told us anything about the Man!” He looked across the room – red brows furrowed accusingly at his mother.

“I read the story to them, because Mama read it to me when I was small. It helped Mandy learn to read.” Brianna settled an arm around Claire’s shoulders, seated on the foot of Mandy’s bed. Safe and secure in the children’s new room in the new Big House.

“Can ye tell us the stories then, Grand-da?” Mandy suggested, her brown curls exploding against the pillow, clutching Esmerelda tight.

Jamie sat at the foot of Jem’s bed, one hand extended to Claire – who quickly crossed the small room to settle into his arms. Roger took Claire’s place beside Brianna at the foot of Mandy’s bed.

Jamie’s voice was calm, strong – but his fingers shook as they clutched Claire’s, so tight.

He cleared his throat.

“Weel, the Man isna up there alone, to start wi’. He has his wife, and his daughter, and grandbairns. And a whole stable full of horses and coos and a paddock full of sheep whose wool is as white as the newest snow…”

Escape - Chapter Eleven

SPN FanFic

~Y/N and Dean are abducted after a night at the bar and thrown into a maze of horrors. Can Sam track down his brother and girlfriend in time? Can they even hold on that long?~

Dean, Reader; Sam

2,384 Words

Series Warnings: Angst. Show level violence. Graphic gore and blood. Extreme situations that may cause anxiety and fear. Character injury and trauma. (Extra Warnings in the tags)

A/N: So close…

~Feedback is the crack that keeps the Writing coming back~

ESCAPE Masterlist ~  My Masterlist  

Chapter Eleven: Facing Hell -

Going back to the bar did nothing but give Sam a headache and definitively cross the owner off of his suspect list. Whatever info Roger had fed him was clearly misplaced, because the proprietor of Hell’s Tavern was anything but the Devil. He lingered in the bar for a little while longer however, having taken up Mr. Maguire on his offer of a round on the house.

Sam sat alone nursing a beer at the same table he had sat at with Y/N and Dean the night before. He was fast approaching seventy-two hours with them missing, and the longer it took to find them, he knew, the harder it would be to bring them home. As it was, the case was cold. Whoever had done this was crafty, skilled, and practiced at their felonies. They had left few clues behind, and the ones Sam did manage to pick up were false leads down the wrong rabbit holes.

Taking a long sip, Sam sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out underneath the table. He stared at the door, hoping in his exhaustion that his entire trip had been a dream. If he wished hard enough, maybe he would wake up back at home in his room in the Bunker, Y/N cuddled into his side, warm and happy and safe.

Sam wished until his eyes hurt from pressing them closed. He prayed until his teeth hurt from the pressure of his clenched jaw. Finally, he pulled in a breath and downed the rest of his beer, giving up on the wishing. Wishing was for normal folk, people with birthday cakes and the time to wait for shooting stars. Not Sam. Sam was cursed.

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"New life. Same rule: Don't take what doesn't belong to you."

While you both are with the claimers, someone is caught lying and a rule is applied: you lie, you die. 

Request: Daryl x Reader are married and they’re with the claimers but the reader feels uncomfortable around them so a smut scene happens between the two but one of the claimer guys hears it. The next day one of the guys approach Daryl and says that he stole the rabbit, an argument happens but the guy gets caught lying and he dies.

Thanks to prince-of-edolas who sent the first request. Thank you! I tried to write this as similar to what you asked as I could. (Sorry for showing your name if you didn’t want it. Sorry! TT-TT) If any of you have a request you can send it. I will try my best to write good stories.

  • Daryl Dixon x Reader
  • Words: 2.179
  • Warning: SMUT (Although I’m not very good at writing it) and swear words. 
  • Sorry if the dialogues are not the same as in the serie. English is not my first language so I had trouble understanding all the words.

When the night fell on the forest, the walkers around became more dangerous, luckily you all found a warehouse next to the train tracks. It was safe to stay there for the night but nothing felt safe next to the claimers. They kept order between them but they were not trustworthy. The knot in your stomach was squeezing painfully ever since you and Daryl were with them. Never turn your back on the enemy, your father said once, but stay as far away from it as possible. And that’s what you wanted to do: get away from them until you no longer felt that twist in your belly, but staying calm and following their way was the best and safest thing for both of you.

They were dangerous, even sadistic, and their lack of awareness could have them killed you both at any minute if they felt threatened.

While they “claimed” the cars inside the store, you found a plastic chair with armrests on the right side of the place with a dirty old cushion on it. Daryl was following their game too although inside of him his frustration was growing more and more. He was impulsive most of the time, but he also knew how to act according to that situation.

He tossed his black plastic bag to the floor, ready to sleep in the cold cement. He leaned against the wall and looked around.

“We just have to keep playin’ their game a little more.” He said quietly. “We don’t want any more enemies for now.”

You knew what you both had to do it even if you didn’t like them at all.

“I know.”

You tossed the cushion aside, untied your jacket from your waist and left it on the chair, just in the moment that a hand took the armrest of it. You looked up and met Len’s smile. Among the people in his group, he seemed to be the worst.

“Claimed.” He said in a mocking voice.

“Leave it.” Daryl said and he straightened. “She saw it first. It’s hers.”

Len looked at you with a crooked smile.

“You did not claim it, doll face. So it’s mine.”

Within a second of him trying to take the chair, your body acted against your good judgment and you pulled the knife out of the sheath tied around your thigh.

The knife sank into his skin without cutting it. That rule of claiming something to them seemed silly and you were getting tired of it.

“Move your hand.”

Your heart was beating so fast you could feel it in your neck. Daryl held his own knife as well.

“Hey. Stop.” Joe stopped in the middle of the two of you and took Len’s arm so that he would take his hand away without cutting himself. “Leave her alone, Len. You know women are slow to learn rules.”

“You should learn from your husband, doll.” Len laughed staring at you. “He is starting to understand how things work with us…”

Joe and Len walked away but it was Daryl who had enough of them.

“Hey!” He moved around you with the knife in hand. “Don’t you dare talk to her like that!”

Len stood before him, both with their patience almost to the limit.

“Like what, friend?”

“I ain’t your damn friend.” Daryl got closer to him. “Talk to her like that again and I will cut your fuckin’ throat.”

“Boys, enough…” Joe stepped between them and pushed Len slightly before looking at Daryl. “Why don’t you and your wife take a walk before it gets dark? Get some air. I don’t want problems between us.”

On the other side of the railroad tracks, Daryl and you entered an abandoned house from the window. It was a three-room place, with only a table and chair in the kitchen, a sofa in the living room and a bed and a desk with some dusty books in the main room. You laid down on the bed as you checked the books, while a little peace returned to you. Being in that store with them was unbearable, but being in that little house and having found some books which you could occupy your mind with felt like breathing freedom. Besides, it was a while since you felt a bed.

“Hell, darlin’. You’re doin’ that on purpose. Don’t ya?” He said. You giggled and put the book aside, watching him walk in his place in front of you like a lion in a cage. He came up on the bed to be on top of you, holding his weight on his elbows. His lips touched your neck and he growled softly against you. His breath hit your bare neck and made you shiver. Your cheeks got flushed red with desire as he pushed your hair back with his right hand. “You’re such a temptation.”

He lifted your head a little and he kissed you. You unbuttoned his shirt, feeling a tingle in your stomach in anticipation. With all that crushing desires inside of you two, his other hand found the end of your black t-shirt and he ran it over your torso feeling the softness of your skin. His tongue played with yours. Your hands ran over his shoulders and you took off his vest and his shirt. His left hand moved around your back and unbuttoned your bra and he took your t-shirt off of you. You lay down again as his lips kissed your chest and everything around. You kicked your boots off as he unzipped your jeans pulling them down all the way. He went back at your lips, desperately this time as you unzipped his pants as well. The heat in between your legs was melting you, sending you into a completely state of lust.

“You’re ready, love?” He asked breathing between your parted lips.

Your chest was going up and down, and you nodded, feeling him going down in between your legs. The feeling was a cloud covering your thoughts, and everything around you two didn’t matter. You closed your hands around his low back as his right hand under your head pulled you up for him to kiss you deeply. Your legs tightened around his waist as his left hand held you against his body when he started to move. The painful pleasure was making you moan, making him thrust into you harder and harder every time you call his name. The tensed breathes from his mouth were addictive, and the way he was looking at you made everything more intense. So intense that you just wanted to sink your nails in his back. The feeling inside you was eating you alive. He bit your bottom lips, dragging his teeth over it. His hips hit yours without stop, and you sunk your tongue into his mouth when you felt close to the edge. He hit the center of your being, hugging you close to him when he was about to come too. You moaned on his shoulder just as he buried his face in your neck, growling wildly when you both finally came. He kept moving slowly as his body relaxed still inside of you, lifting his head to look at you. He brushed your hair back while he kissed you softly.

“Ya okay?”

You sighed.

“Yeah…” You pushed his hair away from his eyes. “But we should go before they come to look for us.”

What you both didn’t know was that one of them was already outside of the house.

On the morning next day, as Daryl lay back on the floor, using his bag as a pillow, you sat down beside him and noticed how he flipped the pages of a book of blue cover. He didn’t seem to enjoy reading like you did, although while the claimers were still walking around the place, you couldn’t concentrate completely on the words in the book either.

“What? No pictures? “Daryl complained, he closed the book and left it on his chest. “Boring.”

“A book is never boring…” You took the book out of his chest, but you stand right in your place when Len’s voice caught your attention.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Christ!” Len growled dangerously approaching Daryl. He sat down as Len extended his hand toward him. “Give it here.”

Daryl remained calm.

“Step back.”

“My half was in the bag. Now it’s gone.” Len pointed around at his companions who looked with an almost bored expression as Daryl and you stood up. “Nobody ‘round here has interest not in half of a damn cut head, except you. Ain’t that right?”

Daryl moved from side to side in his place, like a threatened animal.

“Ya were the only one thinkin’ ‘bout that crap.”

“Empty your bag.” Len tried to take the bag from the floor but Daryl took it to pull it away from him. 

“I said step back!”

You could feel the tension in your stomach, because that situation was more dangerous than having fought over a chair. Fighting for the rabbit was only a small part of the problem, because Len was annoyed that Daryl didn’t submit to the rules of the group. Joe, who was among them, took the bag from Daryl’s hand.

“Did you take his rabbit, Daryl?” Joe asked, and he opened his hands almost in a sign of peace. “Tell me the truth.”

“I took nothin’.”

Len’s gaze went through Daryl and stopped at you.

“Or did you take it, doll face?” His voice was mocking again. “Maybe you didn’t learn the lesson yet.”

Daryl’s jaw tightened as he spoke blocking you from his sight.

“Don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.”

Len approached Daryl and chuckled in his ear.

“You should be careful. A walker could catch you with your pants down.”

He talked high enough just for you two to hear it. Before Daryl actually cut Len’s throat this time, you held Daryl’s wrist and chuckled, although you were ashamed.

“You are just jealous, Len.” You said calm. “Because even in this world: any woman would look at you twice.”

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“What have we got here?” Joe held the bag upside down and shook it slightly. “Come on.”

A shirt and a few small things fell. Joe shook the bag again and the top of the gray rabbit fell to the floor. Daryl didn’t steal it but you swallowed the knot in your throat: that’s what Len needed to start a problem.

“Well, look at that.” Joe said and Len stared at Daryl.

“Ya put that there, didn’t ya?” Daryl confronted Len. “When I was out to take a piss!”

“You lied.” Len said with his eyes on Daryl.

“Didn’t ya?” Daryl pushed him.

“You lied. You stole.” Len put a finger on his chest to push him as he look at Joe. “We’re gonna teach this fool a what, Joe? Ah?”

Joe faced Len.

“Daryl says he didn’t take your half of the rabbit. So we have a little dilemma here.” Joe looked at Daryl. “Or he’s lyin’ just like his wife, which is a punishable offense. Or…” Joe chuckled and turned to Len. “Or you didn’t plant it on him like some pussy, punk ass, cheap and coward cop, Did you? Because while that wouldn’t be specifically break a rule, it’d disappoint me.”

Len looked into Joe’s eyes.

“It would.” He nodded and walked over to Joe’s face to mark every word. “I didn’t.”

“Good.” Joe patted his arm and turned to Daryl. “Well…” He made a fist and turned half of his body back to hit Len’s face.

So hard that he fell to the ground.

As a reflection, Daryl moved in front of you as the other claimers gathered around Len.

“Teach him a lesson, gentls,” Joe said. “He’s a liar and I’m sick of it. Teach him all the way.” A kick struck Len’s stomach as Joe turned toward you two. “I saw him do it.”

Daryl looked at him.

“Why didn’t ya try to stop him?”

“He wanted to play like that and I left him.” Joe pointed a finger at Daryl. “ You told the truth…. He lied. You understand the rules, he doesn’t.” As Joe bent down to take the half of the rabbit that once belonged to Len, the claimers were still kicking Len. Joe straightened and threw it at Daryl. “Looks like you get the head too.”

It was sickening to see how they didn’t stop for a second. You both listened to the clean sound of their kicks as they gave him more.

“Hey, come here.” Daryl came over to you and put his arms around your shoulders. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, while your hands closed on either side of his vest, where they tightened every time you heard a kick. “It’ll be over soon.”

You both handled that life pretty well, you two fought when you had to, and you shot when it was necessary. ​You two survived, and would do it again.

Author: PyromanicSchizophrenic

Summary: Your boyfriend has an Easter surprise for you. The catch? You have to find it yourself.

Warnings: Well, it’s Jacksepticeye, so language. Also, not proofread, and I have no idea why I chose this particular gif (except for how cute Jack is here)

Originally posted by optimalotter

“(Y/n), wake up!”

You groan tiredly, rolling over and burying your face in the pillow. You don’t know how the hell your boyfriend is possibly so awake at this hour (whatever this hour is), but you do know that you are absolutely not awake with him.

“(Y/n)!” he tries again. “Come on, if I’m awake right now you can be too.” You don’t bother pointing out that his Irish accent gets thicker and more stereotypical when he’s tired, and that he sounds like he does when he’s recording a St Patrick’s day video which means he’s exhausted.

“Sean, go the fuck to sleep,” you say grouchily, lifting your head just enough for the words to not get muffled by the pillow. 

“SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK!” he shouts, making you jump and fall out of the bed. “Oh, good! You’re up!”

“Sean McLoughlin, if you value your life at all, you will—“ You don’t get the chance to finish your threat before he’s pulling you up, grinning that bright smile that always makes it impossible for you to stay mad at him. “Never mind,” you sigh. “‘M still tired though.”

“But it’s Easter!” Sean exclaims happily.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Is that what this is about?” You glance at the clock. It’s actually about half noon, but given Sean’s sleep schedule (and the one you now hold so that you and him are actually awake at the same time), that’s basically seven in the morning.

Sean gasps dramatically. “(Y/n)!” He sounds as if you’ve personally offended him. “This is an important Christian holiday! You can’t fuckin’ swear!”

You stare at him blankly. You know that he knows what he did, and you know he did it thinking it was funny. You’re not laughing. You aren’t.

“Oh come on, that was funny,” he says after a moment.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, Jack-a-boy,” you say instead, patting him on the shoulder.

He bats his eyelashes at you. “Am I the prettiest?” he asks you, looking for all the world like a male beauty pageant wannabe.

“No,” you say bluntly, giggling at the dramatic way his face falls.

He perks back up quickly, though, and he grabs your hand and drags you out into the living room.

“Sean, please tell me you didn’t hide a bunch of Easter eggs around the apartment that you’re going to make me look for,” you say (demand) when he finally stops, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“‘Course not,” he says flippantly, making you question the truth of the statement. “I’ve got too much editin’ to do to watch you look for eggs for two hours.” He’s right, and you do know that. You’re still wary, though.

“So what did you do?” you ask him suspiciously. “And don’t just say ‘nothing,’ you Irish bastard, I know you well enough to know that you did not wake me up at half noon solely because today is Easter with no plans for anything else.”

“I didn’t hide a bunch of Easter eggs,” Sean repeats, which not only doesn’t answer your question but also makes you think that he hid something else.


He just smiles innocently at you.

Sean,” you try again.

“Well, whatever it is I hid, it’s not findin’ itself,” he points out. “Would you be more willin’ to participate if I told you in my Papyrus voice?”

“No thank you,” you say after a moment. “Will you at least tell me what it is I’m looking for?”

Sean’s grin changes from innocent to a cat that got into the cream. He’s actually going to make you look for anything out of place. This is going to be a long Easter.

“Aw, come on, you love me,” he says, seeing the murder in your eyes.

“You are really testing the limits of the truth of that statement,” you inform him, getting to work looking for whatever the hell it is that he hid. “It is in this room, at the very least, right?”

“It’s not in the bedroom,” he allows, sitting down on the couch. “Other than that, every room in the apartment’s fair game.”

“Even the bathroom?” you ask, arching a brow.

“Alright, not there either.”

The bright side, you think as you check the bookcases, is that the apartment is smaller than any of the houses you grew up in (your family moved around a lot), so there aren’t that many hiding places. The downsides, of course, are that a) you have no fucking clue what the fuck you’re looking for, and b) Sean is much more creative when it comes to hiding places than your parents ever were. Also, when you’re hiding something for a (y/age)-year-old to find, you can get a lot more complicated than when you’re hiding something for a three-year-old.

“Alright, you little shit,” you say after a minute. “I’m looking in the fridge.” Sean likes hiding things in the fridge, for some fucking reason. Last week he hid your shoes in the fridge (he hid the shoes because he didn’t want to leave the apartment; you are genuinely unsure why he thought the fridge was the best place).

When you open the fridge, though, right there in a place of honor, is a note: I’m not THAT predictable haha

“I’ve got too much editin’,” you repeat mockingly, over exaggerating Sean’s accent. “I can’t watch you look fer somethin’ fer two hours.” You shut the fridge, pause, then open it again, take the note and a can of cola, then close the fridge. You crumple the note into a ball and lob it at your boyfriend’s head, nailing him right in his green hair.

“I see you got my note,” he says, turning around and grinning at you again. He’s having far too much fun with this.

Your cola’s going to turn into a beer before the end of this.

“Alright, just so I’m clear, I’m looking for something Easter-themed that is not in the bedroom or the bathroom and that’s all you’re telling me?”

“Two things,” Sean corrects. “One of ‘em’s easy, though. Wide open, can’t miss it.”

“Is anything painted to look like Sam?”

Sean’s eyes go wide. “That would have been awesome!” You’re tempted to take that as a no, but knowing him he could just be throwing you off. “But no, nothing is painted to look like Sam.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, but you do know that Sean wouldn’t lie to you, even about something as dumb as this. “Okay,” you say finally. “I’m going to check the office.” He stands up to follow you, and you can’t tell if that means you’re on the right track or absolutely wrong.

You open the door to the office and stop. “Sean, please tell me I’m not actually seeing that.” Sitting on the computer chair is a giant chocolate rabbit—and by ‘giant,’ the box boasts three pounds of solid chocolate. You can’t eat that much chocolate , and you are very adamant against letting Sean have any of it. He may not be as crazy in real life as he is in his videos, but more in the sense that it’s not a constant thing. If you think giving Jacksepticeye three pounds of chocolate is a bad idea, then giving Sean McLoughlin three pounds of chocolate isn’t exactly better.

“His eyes are blue like mine,” is all your boyfriend has to say in his defense.

“Sean, I’ve had normal sized chocolate bunnies with blue eyes like yours,” you argue. “That is not a valid reason for a three pound rabbit, what the fuck?”

“It’s all they had left,” he explains. “And he looked so lonely sittin’ on the shelf by himself.”

“It’s a candy rabbit, it doesn’t have feelings!”

“His name is Gerald, and he’s very offended at your attitude.”

Great, now you can’t even eat the damn thing.

You roll your eyes, but decide to just let your boyfriend befriend a three pound chocolate bunny called Gerald. As long as he isn’t eating it, he’s not harming anyone.

(Although if he eats it and then films a Happy Wheels episode for the duration of the sugar high nobody gets hurt at any point and his subs are happy.)

“Is that all that’s in here?” you ask, instead of seriously questioning why the rabbit’s called Gerald of all things.

He doesn’t answer, just shrugs, and yeah. Yeah, you’re gonna kill him before this is over.

You start looking over every inch of the office, careful not to bother any of the gifts on his shelf. You know how much they mean to him, and also that he wouldn’t hide anything anywhere where you’d need to disturb them. You also check around his recording set-up, but considerable less thoroughly. You’re a disaster around anything that has wires, and you don’t want to take down his entire career because of your clumsiness.

“Why are you like this?” you ask him as you go back out into the living room.

“Because I love you,” he answers, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your temple. “Come on, you’ve got to find it before I start recordin’.”

“I’ll find it faster if you tell me where it is,” you goad, leaning back into him.

“But where’s the fun in that?” he counters, letting go of you and sitting back down on the couch. You scowl, but start searching the apartment top to bottom anyway. His excitement’s contagious, as much as you wish it wasn’t. At any rate, your curiosity’s through the roof; Sean can be easily excited, but not so far as to be this excited about you searching the apartment for something on Easter morning (afternoon).

“You know, when I agreed to go out with you,” you start conversationally, checking the coat closet that neither of you use for much of anything, “I did not expect to be Easter hunts.”

“Exactly,” Sean says proudly. “Dating me is an adventure. You never know what to expect.”

“Also my sleep schedule gets fucked,” you add. “Like, /seriously/ fucked.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that!”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. It’s not a problem most of the time, but whenever you go home, not going to bed until seven am can definitely be a problem.

“You’re really enjoying watching me look for whatever the fuck it is you hid, aren’t you?”

He just grins again.

Almost an hour later, you finally—finally—find the fucking thing. It’s a plastic Easter egg, and it’s in the cabinet under the sink, perched precariously on the pipes. It’s (favorite color), and when you pick it up you can hear something rattling inside.

“I found your stupid fucking egg,” you call, walking back into the living room.

You try to pop the egg open, but it’s got scotch tape wrapped around it, keeping it shut. “Good God, you like to complicate things, don’t you?”

You start picking at the tape; there’s more of it than you’d noticed at first.

“Sean, I swear to God,” you mumble, finally getting enough of the tape that you can just unwrap the whole thing.

Your breath catches in your throat when the egg finally opens, and you see a ring settled into the bottom of one of the halves. “Sean, is this…”

You glance up at him to find him kneeling in front of you, not looking excited or mischievous anymore. Now he looks nervous, and hopeful.

“I love you, (y/n),” he says. “You’re funny, and beautiful, and the kindest soul I’ve ever met. We work so well together, both together here and when we’re apart. I’m happiest when I’m with you, no relationship I’ve ever been in has ever made me this happy before. You’re my best friend and I love you. I want to hold onto this forever. (Y/n), will you marry me?”

You try to blink back the tears that have been gathering since you got the plastic egg open, nodding and choking out a “Yes, Sean, God yes.”

He stands up and takes the ring, slipping it onto your finger as you kiss him, soft and sweet and happy.

“Happy Easter, Sean,” you whisper.

“Happy Easter, (y/n).”

Breakfast girl

Title: Breakfast girl

Pairing: Dean x female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Dean has a tiny concussion towards the end. Nothing serious though.

Summary: Dean and the reader bond other quietly shared breakfast. But with both of them being hunters they can’t hold onto good things like that. Or can they turn their friendship into something even better?

(A/n: This is for @fuck-i-shouldnt-have-said-that who reads my stupid writing even though she doesn’t know the characters yet or doesn’t like them that way. I love you, girl! Thanks for being my random online friend ^^)

Originally posted by lucifersagents

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anonymous asked:

how would dva kidnap her victim? would she use drugs or hire brute force or what????

Being as young and somewhat sheltered as she is D.Va would have mixed feelings as what to do with you. You denied her confession so she distanced herself from you to try and accept that but no matter how much she thought about it, it just didn’t make sense! You would be so cute and compatible with one another! She just had to make you see it- experience it, so you would understand that you were meant to be with her. D.Va didn’t know anything about drugs nor did she want to harm you- although she has thought about how she could make the two work extensively. She may be a trained soldier but this was out of her area of knowledge and experience. So, she settled for hiring someone to kidnap you and bring you to her place! 

When you awake from your drug induced slumber you’re groggy at first but then panic when you remember being abducted from your home. You freeze instantly when you recognize the room you’re in and find you’re in no way bound or gagged like you had seen in movies. You find yourself easing into D.Va’s pink rabbit bean bag chair as you think. When did you come over to her place? Was being kidnapped just nightmare? You ponder the strange occurrences before the young girl slips into her room with what looks like a console and several controllers in her arms.

“Good to see you’re finally awake sleepy head!” She teases with a laugh, closing the door behind her with her foot. She sits down on the carpet in front of her as she sets up the console to the T.V. in her room. You open your mouth to say something but no words come out. You also find you can’t seem to move your body. You glance at the girl in front of you and see something dark and crazed in her brown eyes as she gives you a grin before gesturing to your body, “Don’t worry about all that! It’s just a little medicine a friend gave me to give you every couple of hours to keep you nice and comfortable.” 

Your body trembles as your eyes widen in horror. No matter how much you try to struggle or even speak your body just won’t obey what your mind screams at it. Regardless, D.Va is more than happy now that she finally has her player two!