i thought they stayed that way

heartcrystal08  asked:

Hi Guys 😊 1. Oso how does it feel to be an uncle now ? 2. How long until the twins can come home? 3.Ichi,do u think that when the twins start school Kara will cry ? 4. Jyushu how do u feel about totty giving u a chance?

Oso: I feel great! So many things I could teach to those little guys!

Jyushi: I feel really good! We’re getting along really well and laugh a lot together!

Ichi: I get a feeling all of them will cry once they set foot in a school for the first time. But who says maybe I won’t get emotional.

Dr.: Matsuno-san, all set you’ll be discharged in the evening, thought the babies will have to stay in the hospital a little longer.

Ichi: …But I don’t want to leave them.

Dr: It won’t have to be that way, you can come visit them every day until they’re in their proper size and weight.

Ichi: But it wouldn’t be the same.

Dr: I know it can be hard to leave them, but don’t worry they’re in good hands and you won’t have to worry about anything.

Ichi: I can’t leave them here…they need me.

Kara: My darling I’m here!

Ichi: Karamatsu…I get to leave the hospital today but the babies have to stay.

Kara: Eh? Why?

Ichi: Because he says they’re not completely well enough to leave, but maybe mom can help out in making them stronger.

Kara: Ichimatsu, maybe they do have to stay.

Ichi: What?!

Kara: You just said it, honey. They need medical attention and it would be wise to leave them here for as long as they need.

Ichi: How can you be so insensitive?! They’re your sons too and you just want to leave them behind?!

Kara: I’m not leaving them behind, I only want them to be alright. I want them to be well for when they do come home!

Ichi: Well I can’t!

Kara: Ichimatsu, please!

Ichi: NO!

Hey Taylor!!! It’s me Kassandra (or Kassy, as some of my friends call me)

I wanted to write to you about this because I feel so lost, lately, I haven’t been feeling like myself and I don’t know what to do about it. My anxiety and depression have gotten so bad lately and I don’t even feel like myself. All I ever feel like doing is crawling into my bed and staying there all day and cry because i’m just so overwhelmed with sadness. I never want to do things in the way I use to anymore and I just feel so completely lost from myself. Things have just been so tough and everyday I just always feel so stressed and I feel like I never get a break and I just feel like my thoughts never quiet down and i’m trying to find ways to get ahold of it, but nothing has been working lately. I’m trying my best but I just feel so defeated mentally. I’ve been looking back on moments where i’ve felt truly happy, and I almost forget what that feels like now. I just feel so sad and like nothing is going my way and that nobody cares and it is so hard to deal with feeling like this everyday. I feel like i’m doing everything I can and nothing is getting better. I wish I didn’t feel so broken and alone.  The one thing I do find comfort in the days I have been feeling like this are your music and I just wanted to thank you for that and for being my friend when I feel like I have nobody else. Thank you for always being the person I know I can turn to. I love you forever.

F came back?

I thought that F would be relegated to a story of the time I got dumped by a guy with an i8, but he suddenly resurfaced this morning.

Honestly I was kind of expecting it. The way we left each other was way too abrupt. If it had happened a week earlier, I think I would have been excited. This morning, it was a pleasant surprise.

But at the same time, I’m not really that happy. Since we ended the arrangement, why are we meeting again? He asked me so easily to stay overnight as well. I didn’t say no to it because I’m curious, but also he is really really good in bed. So I was wondering if we would have the arrangement talk when we met up later this week?

What kind of expression should I show him? I think I’ll just pretend nothing ever happened. I did manage to fully get over him though, so I’ll just be normal. If this is a booty call and not an arrangement meet I will not be staying overnight.

Ahhhh I need some advice girls ❤ I find it so so weird that he can just casually hit me up for a ‘spa date’ and ask if overnight is okay after we ended the arrangement like 20 days ago.

anonymous asked:

this is the girl who had Yoongi's mixtape date as her password and now I'm back w just some random thoughts. So the Love Yourself highlight reels (im rewatching them). Jin turns back time after his girl gets hit by the car. He decides "screw it im going to stay in". Surely there's others ways of doing it so that she doesn't die? Like idk yelling "LOOK OUT FOR CARS" before she crosses the road. Or arriving earlier? Why cockblock himself when there's other ways of dealing with it?

Hello again ;) and TRUE. HE COULD OF MADE SURE WHEN HE MET UP WITH HER THAT HE JUST STOOD ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROAD???? I’m low-key mad, that girl and Jin looked so perfect for each other I’M-

So, real question: does anyone who watched that episode think that Keith is emotionally okay? Because NO ONE WHO IS EMOTIONALLY OKAY IS WILLING TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR A WILD PLAN THAT MAY NOT WORK ANYWAY.

And fuck, I have so many thoughts with the way that Keith admitted to pushing people away before they could leave him in his blog, and how Voltron went from berating him to being perfectly okay with him leaving the team and no one- NOT ONE- of them fighting to get him to stay because they cared about him.

And the way that Keith probably thinks that the team doesn’t really care one bit whether he’s there or not - not that they helped this perception (I love you guys, but for real. Just cause Keith’s moody doesn’t mean he doesn’t have emotions or need someone to tell him they care- Shiro, I’m looking at you especially) and that’s what made it so easy for him to make that choice - he didn’t think anyone would miss him when he’s gone.

I just- I’m literally fucking crying for him right now, and I’ll try to put what I’m trying to say more clearly and cohesively later, but for now I need to vent.

Does mod g have a crush? who the hell knows

BTS Reaction to hearing you accidentally confess-

(for anon)


Originally posted by bwiseoks

“So you got home okay?” Jin asked as you locked your front door. “Yes, i’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Okay see you Y/N!” “See you Jinnie, I love you.” Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake. The other line went deadly quiet. Before you had a chance to press the end button, he finally spoke up. “What kind of love?..” He asked softly. Of course you were going to deny, deny, deny. “The I would do anything for you kind of love.” But that didn’t happen. “I love you too Y/N…so much.” 


Originally posted by boo-t-s

As Yoongi was telling you about this girl he’d met. You, once again, had to put on a brave face and pretend to be happy for him. “So I’m thinking of asking her out this weekend when I have a little bit of time.” You looked up at him with hurt in your eyes. Talking about this girl was one thing but asking her out? “You’re asking her out?” “Yeah? What’s the problem?” “You can’t fucking do that to me Min Yoongi!” It just slipped out of your mouth. Like word vomit. He looked into your eyes with an unreadable look on his face. “What does that mean.” He demanded. You shrugged and tried your hardest to keep your cool. “You know you can’t do that to me cause we hardly spend anytime together an-” Yoongi interrupted with a swift, loving kiss to your lips. Shocking you greatly. He pulled away. Just inches away from your face. “I know what you meant.”


Originally posted by nochuie

Once you found out that Hoseok injured his ankle during a performance, you rushed to the dorms. Once Jimin opened the door for you, you pushed past him to get to Hoseok’s room. He was laid on his bed with his ankle wrapped up. A pair of crutches laid against the wall beside his bed. “Hoseokie..” you said before rushing to his side. He gave you a relaxed smile and shook his head. “I’m fine Y/N, you don’t have to worry about me. Just a little twist is all.” You shook your head as you examined his ankle. “Either way i’m going to take care of you, alright? I have some sick days from work so i’m gonna use them this week.” “Why would you waste your sick days on me?” You looked at him like he was crazy. “It’s not a waste for the man I love, Hoseok.” Your eyes went wide as you realized what you said. “What?…” Hoseok sat up a little. His eyes fixated on you. “What did you say?” You shook your head and stared at the floor. “Y/N what did you say?” He gripped your chin to meet his face. “I’m the man you love?” He asked. His nose was right against yours now. “Say it again. I’ve been waiting  SO long for you to say those words to me.”

Rap Mon-

Originally posted by trash-for-bangtan

“No way! Y/M you didn’t!” Namjoon said excitedly as he finished upwrapping the gift you got him. It was a book he’d been dying for, but couldn’t find it anywhere. You tracked down someone who had one of the original copies and paid a substantial amount for it. “Where did you find it?! I’ve been looking for so long, oh my God!” Namjoon went in for a hug but without thinking, and overcome with happiness due to his excitement, you went in for a kiss. Your lips met for a split second before you pulled away and gasped. “Oh fuck i’m…” you covered your mouth in embarrassment as your cheeks grew pink. “I’m really sorry..” You were about to walk away when Namjoon surprised you by grabbing your and sitting down quickly. You straddling his lap. “Do you know how long i’ve been waiting to taste those lips of yours?” He asked for pressing his lips against yours once more.


Originally posted by jiminrolls

You and Jimin always had a touchy, playful relationship. And for you, it escalated into a strong love that could never die. As you watched while Jimin played with the fingers on your hand, you spoke to a friend of yours on the phone. “No i’m busy right now but I can come by tomorrow. Yeah, i’m just with my boyfriend.” You said without thinking. You’d always secretly referred to Jimin as your boyfriend when people who didn’t know about him asked. You stopped speaking completely and looked up slowly to meet Jimin’s eyes. His eyes were wide opened, looking directly at yours while his mouth was slightly agape. “I…I’ll call you later.” You said quickly before hanging up on your friend. “Jimin, I-” “FINALLY!” He shouted while pumping his fists in the air. “My girlfriend!! Yes!!”


Originally posted by kpopfordays

You and Taehyung were out for your weekly best friend dinner. You both loved picking off each other’s plates and being annoying so sitting by eachother was a must. You both were talking and eating when a nice older woman stopped by your table. “Excuse me. I just had to tell you what a lovely couple you two make. I bet it’ll last a long time.” She smiled. Before remembering that this was in fact real life and not your dreams, you spoke up. “Thanks so much, we’re really in love.” Your eyes widened when you realized that this was in fact reality. “I’m very glad.” She said before walking away. You couldn’t even turn to look at Taehyung. You then felt a pair of lips pressed against your cheek. “A long, long, time.” He whispered. You turned to look at him and blush before turning back around and leaning against him. Bringing up a piece of meat to your boyfriend’s lips. 


Originally posted by jkookisdaddy

Realizing that it was way too late and raining way too hard for you to drive home, you decided to spend the night with Jungkook. The man you’ve been in love with for years now. You climbed into bed beside him and turned to bid him goodnight. “Night, I love you.” You said before turning back around and laying on your side. ‘Oh fuck’ you thought as it hit you what you just said. OUT LOUD. “Really?” Jungkook asked. You decided that pretending to fall asleep was the way to go so you did just that. “Y/N?” You stayed completely quiet, hoping he’d forget and just go to sleep. Before you knew it, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you in close. “I love you too,” Jungkook whispered into your hair. 

Once upon a time there was a beast and a curse and an enchantress, which I’m sure surprises nobody. Better put it this way: once upon a time a girl was locked in a castle, and she begged so hard not to be the sleeping princess that she became the beast. That’s more like it, anyway — fairytale logic. You get what you wish for, but it isn’t what you want.

“Don’t let it be a prince,” she begged, “don’t let it be a kiss I can’t see coming and can’t refuse.”

Enchantresses, wicked fairies, call them what you will — they’re all the same story in the end. No one will remember if this enchantress began the story by giving the princess a naming day gift of a hundred year sleep once the tale switches to another track. The point is that she didn’t mind granting this one favor. Maybe it was an issue of statistics. Maybe she thought finding a girl who would fall in love with a princess-beast would be harder than finding a prince to kiss her, make her curse harder to lift (considering the probabilities of who might wander onto the cursed castle grounds). As if girls who love girls don’t know they have to fight harder to begin with, as if they won’t cross miles for each other.

So maybe there was a spindle once, but now there is a rose, and a girl who wanders through a thorn maze unable to find her way. This is the wrong story, she thinks to herself, clutching her leather satchel tighter, but she doesn’t know what the right story is.

“Let me through?” She suggests to the roses that grow squeezed between their own thorns along the twisting hedges. “I’m looking for the love of my life. I’m in a hurry.”

She’s met only with the rustling of leaves and haughty scoffs. “No prince ever found his true love by being in a hurry.”

“I’m not a prince. I’m a shoemaker, and I’m lost. Can you let me through to the castle?” It rises dark and spindly overhead, but though it seems so close she can see no way out of the maze.

Laughter, echoing through the hedge corridors, and then something dark prowls around the corner and half-crouches there, hidden as much as possible under a hooded cloak. Shining talons dig into the earth under their feet.

The beast says, “A shoemaker? You really are in the wrong story.” Her voice is gravely and doesn’t match the laughter. That must have been the roses as well.

“I have glass shoes,” the girl says, staring at those claws. “Or I can make something sturdier, if you give me time.”

“I don’t have enough time of my own to be giving it away,” the beast says, bored, and gestures around them. Even now the hedges seem to be encroaching further into the maze’s corridors, the roses growing and multiplying. One day soon, the girl realizes, the maze will entirely fill in, and the castle will be blocked off.

She’s clever, and she’s brave, and those are the two most important things for a fairytale heroine to be — besides pretty, but that’s easy enough to fake with the right kind of smile. “Then don’t give it to me,” she says, “we can share.”

So the beast reaches out one arm, fingers tapering into knives that she curls so gently they don’t more than scratch the girl’s skin — and the shoemaker takes it with an earnest gravity, looking right under her cloak’s shadow and into her eyes.

The beast’s eyes are unnaturally big and inhumanly shaped, but they’re not cruel, and in fairytales the evil beasts always have cruel eyes. The girl bobs a polite curtsey, using the beast’s arm for balance, and sees those eyes narrow slightly with amusement.

They walk through the twists and turns of the maze to the castle, the beast bent slightly so as not to tower over her guest. “About those shoes,” she says, when they reach the front doors, golden light spilling from the entrance hall and shining through the delicately carved details in the ancient wood.

“In the morning,” the girl says, and because she clearly has not even entertained the thought that she might be argued with, the beast cannot summon an objection. She watches the girl follow an unfurling carpet along the floor to a dusty guest room with no hesitation, as if every dwelling should be as accommodating.

And in the way of fairytales, that’s enough to make the beast fall in love — a disregard for every unspoken rule, a smile that glimmers in the darkness. Should I tell you that the moment the girl arrives at breakfast the next morning the beast can barely look away from her for a moment, that she stays by the girl’s side as she produces leather and tools from nowhere and searches floor by floor for the perfect room to work in — or should I let you imagine for yourself?

Gradually the hood is pulled back, eventually the cloak discarded altogether; they sit in patches of sunlight together to eat lunch, staring down at the maze below. Roses and leaves devouring each other and everything in slow motion.

“If you stay too long you’ll be trapped here,” the beast warns, anxious when the girls shows no concern in her usual solemn air as she watches the maze devolve.

“I haven’t finished your shoes,” is all she says. Each new morning she promises that in return for this latest night of hospitality she is making the shoes more beautiful, and each evening that she has not finished she stays another night.

Sometimes when the girl has gone to bed the beast sneaks back into the workroom, in agony over whether to rip out the stitches or finish the work for her.

Leave before you are trapped here forever.

Stay here forever because I love you.

Each night she does not touch the shoes and returns to sleep herself, and in the morning the girl thanks her for letting her stay, as if the beast could ever turn her out, and promises to repay the night with even more beautiful shoes.

And each morning the beast says, “That’s fair,” and wishes she could find different words, the words she means to say.

The maze grows. The roses are larger than hands with fully spread fingers. The corridors are barely large enough for a small girl to squeeze through. In the dawn light it is lit gently and slightly pink, but the sight of it is painful. The wide window of the workroom shows the progress the maze had made alarmingly clearly, and it’s only then that the beast wonders if that was the appeal of this room over all the others.

The girl appears silently in the doorway as she has for the past week. “Thank you for letting me stay last night. I’ll repay you—”

“No,” the beast says, her voice alarmed and rough. “No. You are leaving now.”


“Before you can’t leave. You must go now.” Her throat is closing up and her voice growing thicker with each word. They’re not the words she wants to say.

The girl cocks her head, a curiously nonjudgmental silence. Finally she crosses the room to her worktable and picks up the shoes, turning them around and around again. They’re boots, really, and almost comically big in her hands. The beast cannot tell if they are as beautiful as she was promised, because the girl is smiling now and that eclipses all else.

“Are they finished?” She asks.

“Yes,” the beast says, unable to choke out anything more.

The girl leaves the boots on the table and swings her satchel, out of nowhere, across her shoulders. “Thank you for sharing your time,” she says. For a moment she holds the beast’s hand in both of hers, and then she’s gone. From the window the beast can watch her leave; for all her trouble getting there, she finds her way out with ease.

She leaves the workroom and doesn’t return all day.

Do beasts grieve? She hadn’t thought they could. She hadn’t grieved when the curse was settled on her; she hadn’t grieved at the idea that it might never lift once the maze finally knit itself together during the coming night. But the loneliness she feels now was different. The absence of the shoemaker is something worse. She’d had no choice in her fate, but she had told the girl to leave. This misery she’d brought on herself.

At night she wanders back into the workroom out of habit, sleepless and hopeless and refusing to glance out the window. Has it happened yet? Is she truly trapped now, or will it happen in five minutes, an hour, at dawn? She stares at the boots for an indeterminable amount of time before she thinks of putting them on.

She does so only because she thinks the girl wanted her to wear them; left to her own devices she might have destroyed them with as little thought as she now gives to slipping them on. They are big enough, and the fasteners are easy to close even with her unwieldy claws. Designs etched into the leather yet invisible in the darkness spiral and branch out beneath the thumb-pad she runs over them. Vines, she thinks. Roses.

A tear slips out, or three, as she stands in her beautiful new boots and smells leather and rotting roses. I want her back, she thinks, even as a wave of thankfulness rises up from the deepness in her, thankfulness that the shoemaker will never feel this trapped. I want to go to her, she revises. Since she doesn’t know how, she goes to leave the workroom instead.

One step and darkness is rushing past her. The rough scrap of stone walls, the rustle of leaves and the tearing of thorns, night air soft all around her. She has stepped not into the hallway but out of the castle, beyond the maze, into the star-dappled night.

“What did you do?” She asks, alarmed, almost before she sees the shoemaker sitting cross-legged on the grassy hill, as still as if she has been waiting all day and night. “What happened?”

“I found what I came for,” the girl says calmly. “And I made her shoes.”

i’ve always believed that every single thing that happens — big or small — happens for a reason, always. good or bad, and especially when it’s bad, it’s written for it to be that way, even when that’s hard to swallow. i’m trying to focus on the things that have stayed with me, which also happen to be the things that i’d shoved into a corner but never forgot about. everything good about them poked at me while i was too busy trying to get a better look at something that was never meant to stay.
and i say i never forgot about them because their presence was that heavy. but the good kind of heavy we often take for granted. the kind of heavy that keeps you full, but not too full. and that’s the perfect amount you can ever be given, but not when you aren’t paying attention.
so where am i, right here, right now? where am i, now that i see this?
i don’t know but something i’d like to be able to say is, i’m on my way.
—  leila l. // where am i, right here, right now?
Dear Diary.
I was wrong. I thought that I could smile and nod my way through it, pretend like it would all be okay. I had a plan, I wanted to change who I was, create a life with someone new. Without the past, without the pain. Someone alive. But it’s not that easy. The bad things stay with you. They follow you. You can’t escape them, as much as you want to.
—  Vampire Diaries.
BTS Reaction | Public Sex

Request; bts reaction to you wanting to try having sex in public or they want to try it, whatever you want!

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon would often find himself getting stressed in the studio while he was working on his music, having you there with him worked as the perfect benefit. He knew you had always wanted to try something adventurous.

“Why don’t you get down on your knees and give me a little help?”

“W-what?” “Right here? Right now? Someone could come in!”

“You’ve always wanted to try something outside of the bedroom, why not here?”

Kim Seokjin

Seokjin wouldn’t be quite sure where would be the perfect place to do it. He didn’t want anyone catching the two of you but the thought of someone catching the two of you was even more arousing.

“Just wait until after my performance, I have an Idea”

“Tell me?”

“Let’s just say, the elevator may have a breakdown today”

Min Yoongi

He’d sit in silence for a few moments, thinking over what you had asked. Truthfully he didn’t really want to leave the hotel room but the idea of having sex with you in public was arousing him.

“We don’t have to leave this room for it to be ‘public’ right?”

“How is it public if we do it in here?”

“I’m sure if I fucked you against that window it’d be pretty public…”

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok would be one of the first to bring it up, unable to control himself after watching you dance along in the studio with them. He loved watching the way you danced, the way your hips moved.

“After they go home, why don’t we stay back?”

“Why would we stay back?”

“I want you to give me a private dance”

Park Jimin

Joining Jimin on tour was always fun, apart from the long flights and lack of physical affection. The two of you would always be handsy on flights, but Jimin would be the first to suggest you both go to the restroom.

“You’ve always thought sex in public was hot, right Y/N?”


“Then why don’t we join the mile high club”

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung would be the one to plan it out the moment you mentioned it. The idea had crossed his mind before but he’d never asked about it, but now he could let his mind run wild.

“Why don’t I rent a car and we can go on a drive?”

“Sex in the car is still a little boring though, and awkward”

“Who said I’d be fucking you in the car? I’d rather have you on the hood”

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook wouldn’t put much thought into where he wanted to do it, settling for somewhere simple where the two of you were alone often together but would still be a thrill for the both of you.

“Why don’t we do it here?”

“In your dressing room? What if someone comes in?”

“That’s the part that makes it more arousing”

tbh i’m really excited that keith’s in the bom because it really shows how much he’s grown with voltron. in seasons 1-3 he was willing to leave teammates behind and always focused on the missions, but after the scene with lance in season 3, i feel like he really learned that lesson when he went to go back with him to find the others after they were separated. putting the team’s safety above the mission and everything. and it really shows with how he’s willing to disregard kollivan’s orders and go back for one of the bom twice in this season.

i’m not saying that the bom is good for him in any way though. they were going to abandon him and he nearly sacrificed his life without any thought to saying goodbye to someone. it’s hurting his mental health obviously.

however, i don’t think he’s going to stay in the bom forever. the thing about character arcs is that they have ups and downs, it’s not linear. there’s bad parts and good parts and ultimately an end. i feel like this arc will be nicely done when keith is forced to make a choice between being apart of the bom and ditching the bom to help voltron, and he’ll choose voltron because of his development and his ideals now resembling more of voltron’s than the blade’s. blade’s would have worked for season 1-3 keith, before he went through that moment of realization. 

i wish there was more build up to keith’s arc this season, but i do think this arc is going to give keith a lot of development in the future.

Not A Joke - Soulmate AU! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Soulmate tattoo - Your soulmates birthdays appears on your body. Imagine being a young adult in the year 2017 and having ‘March 10th, 1917’ written on your arm (REQUEST BY ANON)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: None, really ! Enjoy,,,,

Word count: 2K

[[ Check Out My Masterlist ]]

A/N: Requests are open and I absolutely am open to anything! I love speaking to you guys and receiving any type of feed back so please don’t hesitate to send an ask or message (:


March 10th, 1917
She didn’t get it; nobody did. How could she, a woman that lived in the year 2017, have a soulmate that is 100 years old? She always thought it was a painful joke. Everyone around her had years written on their wrist, arms, legs, you name it. But from the year 1917? No. She was the only one. The one who had a joke for a soulmate.

Yeah, sure, maybe there was one old man still kickin’ it out there, but there was no chance in hell she’d marry him. There was no chance she’d put herself in that type of predicament, therefore, her tattoo was a joke.

It pissed her off, beyond what anyone could imagine. Everyday, she was reminded by the date, the date tattooed in the crease of her arm. It pissed her off because she wasn’t the type that normally attracted anyone. She wasn’t the one for love, or so that’s what she thought. Nobody was really interested in her, and the only chance of someone liking her was for a laugh.

She was deep in her thoughts when someone brought her back to reality.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Don’t want to be caught dozing off on the job, do you?” Her friend, Austin, threw a hacky sack at her arm.

Laughing, she picked it up and swung it back at him. “You need these for the customers! Don’t go throwing them at your friends!”

He swiftly grabbed the toy before setting it on the small counter. There were a handful of booths in the amusement park, and they just had to make him watch over the ones with miniature bing bags.

While Austin was taking over the booth called ‘Tin Can Toss’, she was in charge of the ‘I Can Guess Your Weight/Age!’ game. She hated it, really, but she had to make money some how, and for her it was guessing something she didn’t nearly care about.

It’s not that it was boring, but it was stupid. They had her take special classes, 45 minutes a day wasted on learning what was the best way to guess someone’s age or weight. Sure, she’d rather be working at a Starbucks or any old candy store, but for now she was stuck on a guessing game.

“Keep an eye out, I think that group over there is planning on playing your game” Austin spoke up, pointing in the direction behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and groaned. Three guys and girl were leaning up against a fence that surrounded the carousel nearby, their eyes stuck on the booth you sat in. A darker male was laughing loudly, nudging another man with long brown hair your way.

“Nah, they’re just laughing at how stupid the game is.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N). I think they’re coming!” He nodded his head in their direction, clearly pointing out that the group was making their way toward you.

She practically whined at her friend before turning towards the customers with a fake smile.

“Hello! Plan on playing?” She kept that fake smile plastered on her face, observing each and every one of them.

“Yeah, actually, my friend here wants you to guess his age.” The darker man from before clamped his hands on the back of the brunettes shoulders, pushing him even closer to her.

“Oh, yeah? Alright, let’s give it a go! It’ll just be 5 dollars.” She watched as the third man dug his wallet out of his pocket. After a few moments, he handed her the bill and she stuck it in the apron around her waist.

“Okay, so let’s see.” She walked toward the shy man, looking him up and down, studying his facial features and body shape. “You don’t mind if I just… awkward check you out, right? I promise, it’s part of the job.”

He smiled, chuckling silently. His eyes observed the woman before him, watching her study his body as if it were an art piece in a gallery.

“Well, before I guess, remember that if I’m 2 years off, it counts. Alright?” She crossed her arms, thinking one last time before receiving a nod from the male.

“Okay, give it your best.” His friends behind him laughed, covering their mouths. She knew something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what. The whole group was acting weird. Why were they acting weird?

“28.” She shrugged her shoulders, wrinkling her eyes in uncertainty. She watched them as they held their laughter in, trying not to seem like they were laughing at her guess.

“Way off?” She dropped her arms, sighing. “I’m new to this job. I lost, go ahead and grab a prize.” She placed a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her face as she closed her eyes.

“Don’t even want to know my actual age?” He hesitantly stood there, looking back at his friend, then returning his gaze back at her.

“To see how much I failed? Nah, I’ll pass.” She smiled while doubting herself, watching the man rub his stubble.

“You technically are around that age physically, Bucky. Cut her some slack, she was right.” The blond friend set his hand on Buckys shoulder.

She furrowed her eyebrows, giving a confused smile. “Whatever that’s suppose to mean.”

He looked back at his friends, receiving an ‘approval’ nod. Not only did she notice, but she was even more confused as she was before.

“Well, I don’t know how to say this but,” He trailed off, looking behind him at his blond friend again. She could tell he was looking for reassurance, but not what for. “I’m 100 years old. My body looks around 28 years old, but technically I’m 100.”

She put on a humorous smile, looking over at Austin who was eavesdropping from the booth. He hid his laugh, shrugging at her.

“100? Glad I know someone around the same age, I’m 97.” She held her hand out at Bucky, smiling mischievously while he gave her a serious look.

“Don’t believe me?” She dropped he hand, rolling her eyes at how serious he was taking the act.

“Why would I? There is no way in hell you’re 100 years old. You don’t even look old enough to have your own children.” She leaned against the back of the booth, crossing her arms and laughing dryly.

“He’s not lying.” The friend from earlier walked forward, setting his hand on Buckys shoulder. “Ever heard of Captain America?”

She continued to stare strangely at the men, wondering why they’re even telling her this. Even if they were telling the truth, why go as far as this to prove it to her?

“Steve Rogers, the face of America! A man who was frozen in ice, brought back, and now works for the Avengers or something. Are you telling me you’re Captain America?” She sarcastically explained, rubbing her eyes, and growing tired of the conversation. None of it made sense to her, and she didn’t care anyways.

“Well, I am. This here is my friend Bucky.” The blond claimed, staring at her as if not an ounce of what he said was a lie.

She leaned her head back, looking at the sky.
Great, (Y/N). Here you are, sitting at a worthless booth being told this man is 100 years old and is best friends with Captain America.

“Okay, but why are you telling me this?” She straightened her back, grabbing the nearby water bottle and taking a long drink.

“We walked past this booth earlier, and uh,” He trailed off, looking towards the darker man that had kept quiet this whole time. “My friend, Sam, noticed your arm.”

“My arm?” She looked down at her arm, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

“Well, it says the 10th of March, 1917.” His finger pointed toward the part of your arm which had the birthdate of your soulmate.

“You’re not implying that-“

“Is your birthday (DD/MM/1989)? That’s all I want to know.” Bucky cut her off, staring at her arm and then into her eyes. “I just want to make for sure.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She furrowed her eyebrows, staring at the floor. There was no way he was he soulmate, this made no sense.

She took a deep breath, accepting the situation and began to believe it. Why would they lie about this? It had to be true, right?

“All this time I thought I was going to be this old mans soulmate. There’s no way! This has to be a joke!” She ran her hands through her hair, looking over at her friend for support. He shrugged his shoulders before giving her a smile that basically said ‘it’s all on you’.

She inhaled deeply, staring at the blue-eyed man in front of her. “If you are my soulmate, then this whole time I actually had one, and it wasn’t some old man on life support. Holy shit! I can’t believe this! I never thought this day would come! I think I’m actually-“

“Calm down, Doll.” His voice spoke deeply to her, calming her down instantly. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

She slowly nodded, taking in a deep breath and calming her heart beat.

Someone scoffed loudly behind him, speaking up in a humorous voice. “Don’t tell her to calm down, you were practically the same way before we calmed you down and brought you over here.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, looking behind him and slapping the mans arm, receiving a troublesome grin. “Sam. You’ve stayed quiet, and then you decided to speak at the worse time?”

Bucky turned back to her, looking at her arm once again before pulling his left sleeve up. “I always thought that God put a date from many generations after me on my arm as a joke. As if I couldn’t love anyone from my own generation. I surrounded myself with different woman, hoping to just prove to myself that I could love someone. Then I lost my arm, and for the longest I couldn’t remember the date that was printed there.”

“Your arm-“ She instantly grabbed his left arm, holding it in her hands and admiring the metal blades. She would have felt sorry, but she somewhat found it amazing. “You can use this as your arm? How is that possible?”

She traced her fingers against the patterns on his arm, holding them strongly in her grip as if it was as fragile as a glass plate.

“Maybe you can explain it to her over dinner tonight.” The woman finally spoke up, giving you both a smirk.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, laughing at what she had said “Did you just hit on her for me?”

“Someone had to do it.”

“Agreed” Steve spoke up, earning a nod from Sam.

“Keep in mind that you were the back alley kid once.” Bucky shook his head before pulling his sleeve back down and shoving his hands into his pockets.

Steve walked up, giving him a pat on the back. “Hey, I’ll leave you two alone for now. Call me when you’re ready.

They shared a smile before exchanging a few words, and parting ways. The three traveled to a food stand across the walkway, slowly watching them both out of the corner of their eyes.

He began to speak, trying to start a small conversation and learn the basics but he kept noticing the obvious glances from across the park.

“Obvious, aren’t they?” He looked across the area, watching them as they quickly look the other way as if they weren’t staring moments before.


He smiled awkwardly before hesitantly holding out his human arm towards her. She gave him a confusing, but humorous look before slowly accepting it and shaking.

“Sorry, I just never got to introduce myself properly. Bucky Barnes, well, James Barnes. I’d like to go by Bucky though.”

“I kinda like James, I don’t know.” She teased, giving him a quick wink and setting her hands on her hips. “Nice to meet you, bucky.”

“C’mon now, Darlin’. I need a name in return.” He sheepishly smiled at her, receiving a blush and an awkward smile.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

@ginger-wayward-assbutt @gallifreyansass @walkingtravesty97 @crazy4thewinbros @iamwarrenspeace
@itbeganlongago @nadtandy @feelmyroarrrr @xabeautifultragedyx @ssweet-empowerment

Chapter 3


So I was talking to my friend about what she believes about this and I think i know how I think it’ll play out.

I think it was Dark. And this is his origin story.

He could be a demon living in the shadows of the house. Damien said this about shadows:

Dark could’ve possessed any of the guests at the party since we were all drunk and wouldn’t have been able to notice his aura in the trippy lights.

I for sure think Damien was talking about Dark. I also think that when we heard the ringing in the seance it was also him, and even the “keep your enemies close” quote resurfacing a couple of times makes me believe it’s him. I also think we will have to exorcise Selene, which then releases Dark and he possesses Damien.

This could go a few ways in my opinion.

  1. Dark would offer a trade of sorts: Damien for Mark. Whether it be Damien’s life or soul I’m not sure. But this is my top theory.
  2. Dark will have a game in place for Mark or Damien’s lives, this is where I was thinking the choose your own adventure comes in. I say Mark will be brought back to help us, thought his memory is foggy. A puzzle will be put throughout the house to find who did it, how they did it, and why. If you get through the choices correctly, both might be sparred. If you follow the path of videos almost the correct way, but it’s still wrong, Damien or Mark might die/stay dead. If you get them all wrong, then they both die.
  3. It could be a FNAF thing, where he possesses the others and you are hidden in a safe room in the cellar. The Little Buddy as your cameras will help you stay hidden and safe.

This is just how I think it will run down. I think Dark possessed the guests when they were all drunk and each one played a part in Mark’s murder.

The chef could’ve stabbed him 37 times.

The butler could’ve poisoned his drink.

Damien could’ve beaten him with his staff.

The Colonel could’ve strangled him

{Evidence} Since we were drunk, we could’ve seen the Colonel strangling the detective but it could’ve actually been Mark

Abe, or the detective could’ve shot him.

I’m not sure who would’ve drowned him though.



Always feel free to add on or ignore this blah blah blah

what happens in vegas pt. 1

*I had to re-upload as i accidentally the original post!*

◇ summary: It was supposed to be a weekend of mischief and fun, but when your ex-boyfriend tags along you soon realize that what happens in Vegas, doesn’t always stay in Vegas

◇ pairing: reader x Jungkook

◇ genre: angst, smut, childhood sweethearts

◇ word count: 6,508

◇ warnings: alcohol use, language, explicit sexual content

“Please tell me why we are going to the airport at 4 in the damn morning?” you groan, handing your suitcase over to your cab driver who is trying hard not to laugh at your current state of sweatpants wrapped in a denim jacket.

Wendy rolls her eyes, “Y/N, we are only going to be in Vegas for 2 nights. We need to make the most of it. Plus, the tickets were like $100 less than if we left later in the afternoon. Just sleep on the plane.”

She gets in the back of the cab, hoping to close the door before your sharp tongue can come with a witty remark. But you aren’t about to let her off the hook that easily. You throw open the door, sliding into the seat next to her.

“Y/N, I don’t want to hear it. You are not going to ruin this for me! It’s my bacholerette party. I only get one” Wendy snaps, holding her hand to your face as you buckle your seat belt.

“If you’re lucky,” you mutter under your breathe, making your best friend smack your thigh loudly.

The rest of the drive is spent in silence as both of you are too tired to try and make conversation, especially since you had been up almost the entire night watching Wendy pick out her clothes for the next 2 nights. Two of you spent almost an hour picking out a black dress that looked identical to every other black dress she owned, but swore was different. As the dark purple circles settled under your eyes this morning, the only thing on your mind was getting through security and popping a Nyquil so that you could spend the rest of the flight in peace.

“We’re here,” Wendy whispers, shaking your shoulder to wake you up after what felt like five minutes. Her eyes shift past you, focusing the on something behind you, “I should have probably told you sooner, but Jungkook is coming.”

“And you’re telling me this now?” pointing to the airport outside the window “You decide to inform me that my ex-boyfriend is coming on this trip right now? You told me two days ago that he wasn’t coming because of work.” you hiss, chasing your best friend out of the car and towards the trunk.

“And he wasn’t going to! But then he called Namjoon yesterday and told him that he had managed to get the time off.” Wendy all but pleads for forgiveness, hiding behind the cab driver.

“You should’ve told him he wasn’t invited! That the plane was completely booked! The hotel was completely booked! Anything!”

She shrugs, “He’s Namjoon’s best friend, Y/N. And he had already bought his ticket, what was I supposed to do?”

You take your suitcase from the driver and make a beeline for the airport entrance, “I’m not speaking to you until we get to the gate.”

Wendy knows better than to push you when you’re upset, that law school and your work had given you a short fuse. Your attitude worked in the courtroom, helping your clients leave feeling happy and content and divorced while they fill your pockets with the end of their marriage. But it didn’t always translate the same to your personal life and most of your loved ones knew to stay far away when you were upset, knowing that your emotional time bomb was slowly ticking away.

It isn’t until you’ve both winded your way around the security line that you turn your attention to your best friend and ask, “Is he on our flight?”

Wendy chews on her lip before answering, “He and Namjoon are already waiting at the gate.”

You take a deep breath, trying your best to mentally prepare yourself for seeing your childhood sweetheart for the first time in almost a year.

Keep reading


Hi @taylorswift ! I would really love to tell you about my husband, Waylan - and thank you for the role your music has played in our relationship. We actually met ON TUMBLR and were long distance for a few months until he moved to my town in Virginia from his hometown of Cape Cod. He proposed on our 1 year anniversary, and we were married on June 5, 2016! He is so kind, compassionate, really hard-working, and absolutely hilarious. He takes really good care of me, even when I struggle with my anxiety and depression. I think you would really love him.

Starlight will always be a really special song to us because it’s how I first knew I REALLY liked him and wanted to be with him; I was listening to the song and after the line “We could get married, have ten kids and teach them how to dream,” I immediately thought of him and smiled. Then, I immediately began freaking out because I knew I was a goner! Needless to say, we prominently featured Starlight at our wedding reception. :) He is so enthusiastic about how much I love you - he actually just stayed up way later than he should have tonight, so he could listen to Gorgeous with me soooo many times in a row when it dropped!! The last thing he said to me before going to bed tonight was thanking me for sharing in the experience of listening to your new music.

Taylor, I’ve loved you for ten years now, and I so, SO badly want to meet you and hug you and thank you for everything. BUT, even more than that - it would be one of the greatest honors imaginable to introduce you to my best friend, incredible teammate, and love of my life. Your music inspired me to wait for, sacrifice for, and fight for the kind of love worth writing about. Now that I have that love, I would really, really like to introduce him to you.


the blood is love ❦ roman godfrey

prompt: roman godfrey x fem!reader smut? with a little blood kink added in there? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

requested by: @richies-spaghetti

warning(s): this imagine contains sexual themes, explicit language, and mentions of blood.

word count: 780

The room smelled overwhelmingly of blood and stale cigarette smoke. You had to hold your breath when you stepped inside, broken shards of glass crunching beneath your boots as you did. The source of the glass—a shattered coffee table—sat overturned nearby, the body of some poor soul lying lifeless beside it. You didn’t dare take another step—until you saw him. Roman.

Keep reading

sirius black head canons

His mother used to yell at him to tears, so every time he’s in an argument he refuses to backdown because he  never wants to feel that way again

Loves the smell of burning wood in a fireplace

Started to grow out his hair in sixth year

The most impulsive marauder

Sass queen (slay me)

Huge flirt because of all the banquets his mother forced him to go to. He learned how to make people comfortable and manipulate them when necessary

The most outspoken of the boys

Has nightmares almost every night

Can control emotions easily

Always has his feet propped up on his desk 

Is that asshole who doesn’t study for tests yet still gets A’s

Is the one to come up with the weirder pranks

Like the idea of cursing Severus Snape into dreaming of James dancing naked so he’d think he was having a gay crisis

The Marauders shut that down quickly (especially James)

James and him once walked around the entire castle with two books on their heads to see who had the best balance (it started off with an augment about their last quidditch loss then it escalated)

Motherfucker always looks like he just walked out of a L’Oreal commercial 

Loves to give remus a kiss on the hand goodbye because its one of the only ways he can get Remus to blush

Can figure puzzles and riddles quickly (Remus is jealous)

When he first heard rock music the boys thought he was going to have an aneurism

“What is this! This is awesome! I didn’t think there way another type of music other than mozart!”

He has to drink like 1 gallon of alcohol just to get a little tipsy. He had been drinking wine since such a young age that he’s basically immune

Was the original gossip girls. he knows everything about everyone 

Is james number one hype girl

Almost flipped his shit when he found out that Lily’s favorite flowers were not, in fact, lilies

They are Peonies

Is the kid that acts like he doesn’t give a shit about school but then stays up really late doing homework

Seeing remus’s side of the dorm gives him a migraine

Will jump to defend anyone. even if he doesn’t know them

Has and will punch the day lights out of someone if he hears them mutter mud blood


He’s the guy that can always make you laugh no matter what

Holds grudges

Is really flexible holy shit

Will only put his hair up with scrunchies because normal hairbands hurt

Is so dramatic he should go to theater camp

Flips people off a lot

Is the loudest at quidditch games (only because he’ll sometimes steal the announcers microphone)

Has tried to flirt with mrs Mcgonagall into giving him a passing grade

Has tried to do the same with Dumbledore but instead of grades, he asked for a trophy with his name on it to be put in the display case for Most Handsome and Chivalrous Lad in Hogwarts

To say the least neither of them agreed

Tye is never tied

Has, on multiple occasions, lost his wand

That all!


For @analogicalityhell I hope you like it.

Tag list: @planetahmane @wingedchickadee @netzoflix 
@iaminmultiplefandoms  @loonierlovegood @aaliyahadams1738 @doggo-fiends-on-a-spaceship @snickerz171 @the-laarmy @orhaven02 @aperfectcontradiction @tickleesdream @1dcrazy14  @onemorebookidontneed @justphantasia @zoeyheys @liberalautisticnerd831 @lamsforlams @alzac-saber @the-sanders-sides @fugitive-angel @starrykid @thebaagelboy @xix-leiloves-xix @reallysaltypotato @justanotherpurplebutterfly @gottajett03 @andy-the-anon @virgils-old-sweater @satisfied-sanders-sides @analogically-prinxiety

They were sitting on a couch watching a movie when it happened. Virgil felt Logan’s hand hesitantly brush against his, his fingers slowly moving to cover Virgil’s.

Not really sure of what to do, but also worried that he would say the wrong thing, Virgil tilted his head to look at Logan, hoping that his confusion was clear in his expression.

Logan flushed slightly.

“I, I just thought,” he began stiffly, “That since we’ve admitted to romantic interest in each other, we could perhaps engage in signs of affection. Hand-holding being one such example.”

Virgil blinked, not really sure how to respond. Honestly, it was still hard to believe he and Logan were actually dating, especially given how much of a mess it was when they got together. He looked down at their hands, where Logan’s fingers were tentatively covering his. It, it wasn’t bad. It was actually kind of nice.

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered ducking his head to hide the red rising on his cheeks.

Logan gave him a small smile, and his fingers tightened briefly before he turned back to the move. Virgil couldn’t do the same though, still looking at Logan out of the corner of his eye.

He’d never held hands before. He’d never really done physical affection before. Part of him was terrified that he’d mess it up. But on the other hand, Logan seemed almost as nervous as him. Maybe they could learn together.

The very next day, Virgil yawned as he walked into the kitchen, planning on grabbing some breakfast. Well, lunch really. He’d ended up staying pretty late, so he’d slept through most of the morning.

When he walked into the kitchen, he was greeted by Logan and Roman.

“I see Sleeping Beauty has arisen,” Roman teased from where he was leaning against the counter. “And here I thought you wouldn’t wake till dinner.”

“Shut up,” Virgil said grumpily, making his way to coffee pot, pulling out a mug from the cabinet.

“I see someone is a little more briar than rose today,” Roman laughed.

Virgil didn’t dignify that with an answer, focusing only on filling his mug as fast as possible. Once it was full and he has taken a few sips, he shuffled closer to Logan who was standing in front of the stove cooking quesadillas.

Logan looked up at him.

“Hello,” he said softly. And then looking at little bit nervous, he- held out his arm?

Virgil wasn’t sure what he was doing, so he just stared in confusion. It was only when Logan began to pull his arm back towards himself with a look of quiet disappointment that Virgil’s half-awake brain realized what he had been asking.

Internally berating himself for being an idiot, Virgil quickly stepped forward, ducking under Logan’s arm to lean ever so slightly into the embrace. He held his breath, glancing up at Logan to see if he’d gotten it right. He still felt a bit tense.

But Logan didn’t say anything, only turning back to the stovetop. Studying his expression though, Virgil decided he did look pleased.

The longer he stood there, Virgil could feel his exhaustion creeping in again and as his eyelids grew heavier, he let himself leaning more and more against Logan.

Eventually Logan spoke up.

“You know if you’re going to fall asleep standing up,” he said, “You probably shouldn’t do it in front of an open flame.

Virgil just grumbled in reply, too warm and content to move, too tired to be coherent.

Logan sighed, but it was a fond sound.

“You should really go sit at the table,” he said, his arm lifting off of Virgil’s shoulders to give him a small nudge towards the table. “The food’s ready, and you do require sustenance.”

Virgil let himself be directed, slinking towards the table and plopping himself down on the nearest chair.

He adjusted his jacket absently, pulling it more tightly around him. He could have sworn the kitchen hadn’t been this cold when he’d come in. He dismissed the thought though, choosing instead to focus on the plate Logan was setting in front of him.

A week later, Virgil was pacing in front of Logan’s room. He didn’t really want to barge in and annoy the other. But Logan had been his room all day, and Virgil was worried about him. He’d seemed super stressed out about work yesterday, and well, Virgil knew better than anyone what it felt like to be overwhelmed.

Making up his mind, Virgil took a deep breath and slipped into the room. He could see Logan in the corner hunched over his desk, which had papers scattered all over it.

“Hey,” he said cautiously, creeping closer. “You okay?”

“Virgil,” Logan said curtly, “Salutations. And yes, fine, I’m fine. I’m just- well, I’m just busy.”

Virgil was now standing right next to Logan, running a critical eye over him. His boyfriend looked exhausted. He was paler than normal, his hair was mess as though he’d been running his hands through it, and his shoulders were hiked up around his ears.

Virgil wasn’t sure how to help. If there was only some way he could get Logan to relax. That was when the idea came to him.

He hesitated, staring at Logan uncertainly. It might help, but he was nervous. Although he and Logan had gotten more affectionate recently, Logan had always been the one to initiate the contact. Would he be okay of Virgil tried to? What if he made things worse?

After another moment of dithering, Virgil looked at Logan’s face again. He had it cradled in his right hand, as he slumped on the desk, far from the perfect posture Virgil was used to seeing. With that, Virgil’s mind was made up.

He slipped behind Logan and slowly, shaking a little bit, he let his hands come up to rest on Logan’s shoulders.

He could Logan shift a little at the contact, but before the other had time to ask him what he was doing, Virgil dug his thumbs into the knots of muscles next to Logan’s neck.

There was a pause, in which Virgil desperately hoped he hadn’t miscalculated, but then Logan leaned into the touch, a soft groan of contentment passing though his lips.

Emboldened by the noise, Virgil resumed his massage. After about fifteen minutes, he’d gotten the worst of the knots out, but he didn’t move just yet, letting his hands still rest on top of Logan.

“Thank you” Logan murmured, one hand reaching up to cover Virgil’s. “That was wonderful.

Feeling his face heat up, and glad Logan couldn’t see him, Virgil tried not to squirm.

“I’m just glad I could help,” he finally said.

Virgil stormed into his room, swiping at his eyes in frustration. Why did things never go right for him? He sat down on his bed, trying hard not to cry. Today had been the worst.

First he’d slept through his alarm, and then he spilled orange juice on his hoodie, and then he’d found out he’d lost one of his notebooks, and on and on and on. It had just been a string of incidents, one after another, and he hadn’t gotten a break!

Virgil tried to take in a deep breath, but his chest felt far to tight, and his vision was beginning to blur. He pressed his lips together tightly trying to stop himself from letting out a sob. Then there was a knock on the door.

“Virgil?” Logan called out. “May I enter?”

Virgil cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal, and quickly wiped his eyes hoping they weren’t too red.

“Yeah,” he called out before wincing. His voice sounded raw.

The door creaked open, and Logan stepped inside. As soon as his eyes landed on Virgil, his face filled with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked coming and sitting beside Virgil on the bed.

Virgil looked down at his lap.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “I’m fine. It’s stupid really. It was just a lot of stupid little things, and just a really shitty day, and I just couldn’t catch a freaking break”

Much to his shame, he felt his voice crack and tears began to threaten again. He let out a long shaky breath, trying to gain back some measure of control.

“Virgil” Logan spoke up. “I don’t want to impose, and you are well within your rights to say no, but I was just wondering something. Would it be alright if I hugged you.”

Not even bothering to give a verbal answer, Virgil just turned and pressed his head against Logan’s shoulder, shaking with the effort of keeping his sobs from breaking though.

But as Logan’s arms came up to wrap around him, he lost the battle completely, and the tears began to soak Logan’s shirt.

When he finished crying, he shuddered again, and pulled back a little, although still not leaving the circle of Logan’s arms.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you.”

“It’s fine,” Logan said, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I could help, I was worried I would make the situation worse, that you would be uncomfortable with physical affection right now.”

“You always help,” Virgil said. “And, um, well, I liked the hug, really. It felt nice.”

After that last part he had to look away for a moment in embarrassment. But when he glanced back at Logan, he could tell the other felt equally flushed, small spots of red having risen on his cheeks.

As he sat there staring up at Logan’s face, his arms still carefully draped around him, Virgil’s mouth opened without his permission.

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted out, his cheeks going straight to scarlet when he realized what he had just asked. But before he could bury his head in shame, Logan replied.

“Always,” he said, ducking his head to press his lips to Virgil’s.

Leaning into the kiss, Virgil let himself get wrapped up in it, the warmth, the softness. This was perfect.

As they broke apart, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

“That was, that was nice” he said, his brain to blissed out to think of a better word.

“Indeed,” Logan said, sounding a little dazed. “That was a most enjoyable form of physical affection. Perhaps we would engage in it more often?”

Virgil laughed.

“Just shut up and kiss me, you dork” he said, pulling Logan closer once more.