CHRIS ZYLKA & JENNIFER LAWRENCE AS BLONDE (as requested by anon)
Source for Chris’ gifs: http://justgifhunts.tumblr.com/post/32833269883/chris-zylka-gif-hunt
Source for Jennifer’s gifs: http://wide-awake-resources.tumblr.com/post/41252813437/jennifer-lawrence-blonde-hair-gif-hunt
And you? Do you have any secrets worth my time?
When I came here I wasn’t expecting it to become home. Even after all this time that’s still what it feels like. Or more of a home than Salem ever was. I leave but no matter how far I get, I keep coming back. Sometimes it feels like a burden but it always feels nice to have somewhere to comforting to come back to, no matter how crazy the world gets.
Honestly? Unless someone can give me a very good reason not to do it, yes.
(no, ‘this rp is closed’ isn’t a good reason)
I’ve kind of turned this blog into a collection of oneshots/writing for this character and universe. And as hard as it is to believe that it’s been so long, the character kind of took on a life of her own. I’ve been toying with the idea of opening this account for 1x1 RPs. But if I had the chance to interact with people I know and adore, I would obviously love that.
Personally I don’t see why the reunion would be such a big deal. If people don’t want to be a part of it that’s their prerogative and I’m sorry if people are hurt or feel it’s pointless. But a few people want to RP together as characters they love and I don’t see the harm in that.
Until then you can obviously expect more oneshots.
She hears them before she sees them.
The missions has gone fine, but now they need to lay low and the remote cabin in the dead of winter seems to be the best place to do it. She’s stepped outside quietly. If she was a smoker she’d be having a cigarette but she’s always found the habit disgusting. However she always carries a pack and a light so she has an excuse. Right now she just needs to clear her head.
While that should bother her it doesn’t. She’s not in the habit of mourning those who die bravely and in the way they wish. But things back in Mystic are not going very well. She doesn’t know what’s happened, but its as though Austin wants nothing to do with her. Peyton think’s she should be used to that by now, but she’s not. And she wants to know what the hell’s gone wrong, but every attempt she’s made at broaching the subject with Austin is shot down.
She’d almost foregone the missions until she’d come home to find three days worth of clothing missing and a note telling her he would be back ‘soon’. Her heart had dropped to somewhere beneath her feet, but pride had stilled her fingers before she could call him. She was not going to make that mistake again. Even if he did turn out to be like Jake. She’d packed all his stuff just in case and told herself that if he wasn’t back by the time she was, she’d mail it to his parents and call it a day.
Pulling her phone out of her pocket she looks at the screen and shakes her head at the blank screen. Shoving it back into her pocket she leans against one of the beams and looks out at the white blanketed world. It’s quiet until she hears the sound of running. In an instant her gun is in her hand. It won’t be witches coming after them but she can kill a witch hunter with a bullet.
Except it isn’t.
Her eyes widen as he skids to a halt. He’s shirtless even though it’s snowing out, but she knows that doesn’t bother him. For one stupid moment she thinks maybe he followed her on the mission like she knows he occasionally does, but there’s surprise on his face and she realizes that isn’t the case. Especially not when the lanky man comes crashing through the woods after him, equally shirtless. The lankier man comes close to crashing into him but turns with eerie grace and speed and Peyton realizes he’s something supernatural.
“Darlin?” Austin’s voice comes out surprised.
“Darlin?” the other man laughs and looks at him before silencing himself when Austin glares.
“What are you—” Peyton begins and then stops herself when his eyes sharpen.The question isn’t what he’s doing here, it’s what she is.
She’s the intruder.
Logically she knows that the woods aren’t exactly anyone’s property. Logically she also knows the man she loves can rearrange every bone in his body and turn into a massive wolf who only tolerates her because she feeds him steak. To her everlasting shame she feels her cheeks burn as she looks at him, neither of them speaking until the other man pipes up.
“Hi I’m Brian,” he says extending a hand.
“Peyton,” she introduces herself, forcing a faint smile though she’s not fooling anyone.
“Peyton,” Brian repeats and then his grin grows even wider, “oh you’re Peyton,” he says and the emphasis makes her think she’s missing something, “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, “though from the look on your face you haven’t heard anything about us.”
Austin glares but Brian ignores it. Peyton doesn’t say anything. Austin doesn’t like to talk about his past life and knowing what she does she can’t really blame him. There are times when she wants to leave her old life behind too and despite all the awful things she’s done, she can’t quite wrap her head around how Austin must feel. Keeping her eyes on Brian she smiles her best diplomatic smile and shakes her head.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says.
“And savvy too,” he grins, “I can see why you’re a keeper,” he turns to Austin, “though I can’t see why you’d want to spend your birthday out in the cold instead of inside with this lovely lady.”
Austin’s glare turns absolutely venomous and Peyton’s face gets even hotter. Of course it’s his birthday. And of course he wants to spend it as far away from her as possible. After all, it’s not just his birthday. Not really. The feeling of intruding grows worse. Almost as bad as the morning she discovered the picture of him and his brother, though she doubts anything could feel worse than that. Something inside her seems to twist and the old scars on her neck and wrist ache.
“It is cold,” Peyton says, “I should go,” she adds and slides the door open.
Before she can get further inside Austin’s hand streaks open and grasps her wrist.
“Darlin wait,” he says, his accent made even thicker with emotion. Smoothing her features out she turns. There’s a brush of air and when she looks over Brian’s gone. Her mouth opens and then closes as she looks back at him. Cautiously she reaches behind her and slides the door closed, stepping out into the cold air, “I—”
“It’s fine,” she soothes, “you don’t have to explain,” she continues gently.
“I shouldn’t have run off like that,” he says.
“No,” she shakes her head, “I would have found you,” she says and then rolls her eyes, “I mean purposely, not like this.”
He chuckles and she shivers unexpectedly in the cold. WIthout a word he pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her. She leans into his warmth and breaths in the familiar scent of him. His arms wrap around her as his head comes to settle on top of hers, easily enveloping her smaller form in his.
“You really spend your birthday running naked through the woods?” she asks softly.
“Not really,” he says, “we go swimming.”
“You what?” she demands glancing up at him.
“Yeah,” he shrugs with an easy grin, “we go swimming. We’ve been doing it for—for a while. See how long we can stay in without getting cold.”
“How long you can—” she shakes her head, “you’re crazy.”
“Very,” he says and his arms tighten around her fractionally.
She ducks her head and smiles against his chest as she remembers that his stuff is all packed up. She’ll have to make sure to undo that before he gets home. Pressing a brief kiss to his chest over the heart she knows doesn’t beat his own blood, she draws back and looks up at him.
“Well I’ll leave you to it,” she says with a smile, gently pulling back, “happy birthday handsome.”
Without warning he pulls her closer and crushes their mouths together. She response eagerly. His grip is firm and almost painful but she doesn’t care. If anything she relishes the moments when he doesn’t have to control himself more than the ones he does. She knows that won’t be forever though. And that soon their birthdays won’t matter. The small box she pretends not to know about in his drawer ensures that. Finally she draws back and looks up at him, suddenly not feeling very cold at all.
“You could always join us,” he says with a mischievous grin, “I know a few ways to warm you up afterwards.”
jennifer lawrence & armie hammer
requested by poetrytoprose
josh ritter: rattling locks
I’m out here in the cold with a wet face rattling your locks
There ain’t nothing new about the world
That I aint’ learned from just standing here in this spot
“Is it true?”
Her entire body seems to go rigid as Landon looks at her. In that moment he looks—young. Impossibly so. She isn’t used to that. He’s one of those rare people who can look a ten years older than he actually is. She always looks like she’s fifteen unless she pays attention to her makeup. She presses her lips together but cannot quite bring herself to meet his eyes. She doesn’t know if she can stand what will be in them.
“If it was?” she asks and her voice is quieter than she means for it to come out.
The look on his face is seared into her memory, a white hot imprint. She realizes with a dull, surprised thud that this is the first time she’s told anyone. CeCe, Solomon, Isaac—all of them knew. She wonders if she looked the way Landon is looking at her now and decides that it’s impossible. She was already shattered when they spoke to her, there wasn’t anything left to break.
“It’s not as bad—” she begins.
“How many?” he cuts in. Her throat seems to close as his voice rises, “how many have they mur—”
Her voice comes out sharp as her head snaps towards him. His eyes slam into the ground. Suddenly it’s like he’s a naughty school child and she’s some reprimanding headmistress. His cheeks even color, making a pimple on his temple stand out. She feels lower than dirt. He’s got spots on his face and he’s still dressed for school and she’s shattering his world. They all grow up too young, it’s the burden of what they are, but this is especially cruel.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, her voice cold.
“How can it—” he stops himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. His eyes slowly trail over to her, his voice near breaking as he speaks, “how can it not matter?” he whispers.
She can lie to him. She can tell him she doesn’t know. That they don’t know. She doesn’t have to tell him the horrible number Lucas gave her. Doesn’t have to put him through the earth shattering realization of what they have done. He doesn’t need to bolt to the bathroom with a hand clapped over his mouth trying not to be sick at the thought. She can spare him that with a simple lie.
“One is too many,” she says instead.
“Does my father know?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” she says, “but probably not. That or—”
“Or he doesn’t care,” he says with a bitter laugh, “I doubt he would, wouldn’t want it to get in the way of his stellar career.”
She pressed her lips together and fights the urge to agree with him. They both know Xavier’s ambition. It’s almost to the point of madness. Another bitter laugh escapes his lips but this time there’s something more there. She looks as he blinks, but it isn’t enough to stop the tear from breaking free. Peyton feels helpless. She’s supposed to be the one that cries, not the other way around. But the tears increase as soft sobs begin to wrench at him.
She pushes herself up and walks over to where he’s sitting, carefully wrapping her arms around him. He’s slender and that only adds to the illusion of him being so young. Worse, he buries his face in her shoulder and weeps harder, holding her tighter. Peyton grips him, trying to make him see that he isn’t the first person to go through this. Nor will he be the last. But those are practical words for another time.
For now all she can do is hold him tighter and hope she can convince him not to tell everyone.
And I hear them saying you’ll never change things
And no matter what you do it’s still the same thing