look hand holding in the last one

i don’t wanna love you | yoongi pt.1

Originally posted by parkejimins

genre: fluff, angst, smut (in bold), college!au

pairing: yoongi x reader

word count: 10,410 (lol)

description: just because he had fallen out of love with you, didn’t mean you had with him.

warning: swearing, smut, things like that

You couldn’t remember when it started, you just remember that one day he started to hold your hand a little less tight and not as often. You remember the gummy smile that was impossible not to love would vanish when he looked at you and reappear when you disappeared. You ignored all the signs that were so clearly laid out in front of you for weeks, but that’s what love does. It makes you blind to the plain reality of things called real life and heartbreak. The last week was when you finally started to stop ignoring the signs - the signs he didn’t love you anymore. But once you stopped it was hard not to feel like everything was caving in. You began to work more hours to get rid of the thoughts but all you could do was stand there as you scanned item after item thinking about how you could have stopped him falling out of love with you. The boys didn’t text you as much (if at all), and they used to text you every day with funny things Yoongi had done that you could make fun of him for. That was when it really hit home, that was when you hid in the bathroom of your work and cried for an hour. You had to lie that you were sick but you weren’t. You weren’t sick but you were far from okay, your relationship was like a bomb - ticking away until it finally exploded. You felt like you were battling with it, trying to cut the wire that stopped the timer but you knew you couldn’t. Your relationship wasn’t an action film, but you wish it was so you could stop the inevitable pain that would take place.

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last night I think I finally kissed you. in a dream somewhere. another world perhaps. where we aren’t the same people. and your palms are as soft as the inside of roses. where no one turns to look when i hold your hands. where your lips felt like clouds, like kissing soft air; like thick October nights and not being scared anymore.

So yeah maybe I ran out of questions but you ran out of answers.
where the fuck were you when i was half drowned in a bottle of whiskey just asking for a text back?
where the fuck were you when life crawled under my skin and tore itself out from the inside?
where the fuck were you when I was going through it last November and you said looking at pain this close made you uncomfortable?
where do you get off with telling me I shouldn’t talk to him and that he’s bad and he only cares about one thing when the only goddamn time you were interested in me is when my clothes were off and yours were too
look at this game we played because it never was that to me but you only just now put your cards down so you could hold her fucking hand and
i can’t be mad about it I can’t feel it in my chest like a jolt of electricity i can’t beg for you to come back when you were never even here so
maybe i ran out of questions
but only when you stopped fucking answering them.
—  so block me again we’re not even friends– lily rain

he looks at you; and you’re in love.

last night, when the sun dipped and you were laughing, you didn’t notice how high you had to build the fence to keep all the noise in. there’s a man inside that smells like the ocean and when he touches you all else falls away until he’s the last one left on this planet. 

when you cook barbecues, you almost don’t notice the smaller guest list. the tittering hands and wide smiles behind fake lips. the woman next door says she has no problem with it, no problem, you’re just not a family, not really, not in the way that matters, does it?

you help him take his t and you fix him tea. a quiet sacred morning.

heroes come in small packages. you’d give your life just to let someone else breathe for another few moments. you were nothing special until he looked at you and you felt special. 

he doesn’t hold your hand in restaurants or in the garage or anywhere someone can see. there’s a word dripping wet on your front door the first time he tries; after that you only love behind pulled shades and flinches.

sometimes it is hard. but then you look at him, and you’re in love.

First Meeting prompts

1) “Everyone – hands in the air!” The bank robber burst into the building, only to discover that a hold-up was already happening.

2) “What happened last night? Where am I?” Why are you, gorgeous but utterly unfamiliar, bringing me breakfast in bed?
“You don’t remember?”
“That’s not reassuring me.”

3) “Hi. Officer Black.” They held up a fake ID badge. “I’m looking into the disappearances that have been happening in this area recently. May I ask you a few questions?”
The actual investigator stared at them.

4) “Oh my god – it’s you. You’re the one I’ve been hearing!”
“What?” Completely bewildered.

5) Coincidentally, we have the same surname and accidentally both booked the same honeymoon suite. I’m not willing to lose the best room in the hotel or admit that I booked a honeymoon suite single precisely because it was the best room. Look at that Jacuzzi! All of the other rooms are taken anyway. Turns out, you’re travelling alone too. Everyone now thinks we’re newly beds and, frankly, I’m not giving the gift basket back so I guess we’re married for a week.

6) “You have a kitten in your bag.”
The NO PETS ON THE BEACH sign loomed behind them.
“Say that a bit louder, will you?”
“Your cat likes the beach?”
“She gets separation anxiety.”
It was hopeless, it was love. Black hair and blue eyes and peeking out entirely too pleased with itself among a towel.
“Either sit down or stop staring, you’re going to blow our cover.”

7) “You know the library is closed, right?” the stranger broke the silence.
They looked the stranger; dressed in pyjamas and clutching a kitkat from the vending machine. They raised their brows. The stranger didn’t even blush at the sheer hypocrisy of the comment.

8) “You’re in my spot.” They had been coming to the roof every evening for three years, and nobody else had ever been there and – oh god, the stranger was crying.

9) “I’m your soulmate, from the future.”

“Then future me as horrible taste, keep walking.”
“…wow. Future you was right, you really did used to be a prick.”

10) When you save somebody’s life, it always seems that a fragment of their future belongs to you. They wouldn’t have had it if it wasn’t for the few heartbeats of your acquaintance. You disagree with this notion quite violently.

Sleepover at Marinette’s

eI got this idea of what if Chat has been visiting Marinette every now and then after Evillustrator, sometimes he is just there while she works on her designs other they watch a movie and eat junk food.

Then one day Marinette has a Sleepover at her home with all the girls of the clasroom they are having a really good time and suddenly at midnight the trap door over Mari’s bed opens and Chat Noir get inside with a movie and some expensive looking candies. All happy calling her.

“Mari! I found the movie you talked about last lime! and I got your favorite strawberry candies! Ready for a movie nigh…t….”

He gets silents as he sees the other girls.
The girls from their part stay silent watching him with wide open eyes, Fisrt one to snap out of it is Alya, who inmediately turns to Marinette.
“What’s the meaning of this!!! what didn’t you tell me you where dating Chat Noir, THE CHAT NOIR!!!!”

Rose and Juleka gasps holding hands, Alix whistles at them and Mylène just blushes intensely.

“No no no!! it’s not like that!!” Marinette and Chat say at the same time.


So, this is All I Ask by Adele that Holster is singing. So I looked up the lyrics, and can I just say that this is such a sad!Holster song with We’re Graduating Soon!Holsom feelings!

Seriously, look at this:
“I will leave my heart at the door
I won’t say a word
They’ve all been said before you know
So why don’t we just play pretend
Like we’re not scared of what’s coming next
Or scared of having nothing left

Look, don’t get me wrong
I know there is no tomorrow
All I ask is

If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I’m more than just a friend
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do
It matters how this ends
‘Cause what if I never love again?

I don’t need your honesty
It’s already in your eyes
And I’m sure my eyes, they speak for me
No one knows me like you do
And since you’re the only one that matters
Tell me who do I run to?”


Hour Twelve : Criminals

Prompt : “We can be the new Bonnie and Clyde.“

A/N : This is kind of a short one 😬 12 out of 24

Pairing : Jason Todd x Reader

[•] [•] [•]

Tucking one of Jason’s guns in your boot, you fixed the collar of your shirt and made sure each curl of your beautifully styled hair wasn’t out of place.

Jason walked over to you and kissed your temple. “You look hot, babe.” He said, smiling at you through the bathroom mirror.

You smirked and applied the last of your bright red lipstick, “Nice hat you got there.” You complimented, using the hand that wasn’t holding the lipstick to flick it.

“Why, thank you.” Jason said, tipping it. “Ready to go rob a couple of people? Maybe even kill some of them?”

“You bet!” You said, connecting your arm with his.

“You know, when I suggested we dress up like criminals, I didn’t expect either of us to turn out looking like Bonnie and Clyde.”

You shrugged, “Always expect the unexpected, I suppose. Look at it this way, we can be the new Bonnie and Clyde. Just for tonight. We might not do everything they did, but we can at least act like them.”

Jason nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I don’t think Bruce would be too happy with us if he found out we were stealing and killing just for the sake of the characters we’re dressed up as.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you considered Bruce’s opinions about what you do,” you commented, grinning. It was nice to know he cared about his estranged father.

“Don’t get use to it.” Jason chuckled, “I’m still not giving up throwing low lives off of buildings.”

the secret santa au

suggested by @iggydabirdkid! at literally 11:59 PM but it’s still december 1st nonetheless. will you ever know what sombra’s gift is? probably not.

  • one of the truly beautiful traditions (started by tracer) of overwatch is the yearly secret santa
  • everyone from overwatch’s invited, and their significant others, which means that talon’s invited too.
  • it’s easier to get gifts for some than it is for others.
  • take winston
  • last year, lena bought him a monthly delivery of a ten-kg jar of peanut butter (lasting for a year) and no one had ever seen him look so happy
  • and then you have sombra and no one knows anything about her so congrats to that lovely person who has to get her a gift
  • they all sit around in a circle on december 1st and lena claps her hands like a little kid and widow pretends not to be endeared
  • s76 holds a santa hat in his lap, filled with slips of paper
  • one by one, each person (or robot) comes up and takes a paper
  • (and because i’m symbra TRASH this is mostly gonna follow their quest for gifts)
  • symmetra opens her slip and sees, in neatly printed, bright purple words, ‘SOMBRA’.
  • she kinda freaks out a little bc she expected to get bastion or something but then she just sits and thinks.
  • while satya’s thinking, sombra retrieves her slip, and sees symmetra’s name written on it in pastel blue
  • internally she’s like ‘YASSSSS BISHHH’ because she has a massive crush on satya but she keeps a poker face
  • she looks up to see satya studying her intently, and blinks.
  • ‘hey, princesita!’ she calls, and satya looks up, flushing, and she’s really cute and- wait. up. her eyes went up.
  • up. which means they were down before. which means they were looking at sombra’s lips. sombra files that away and makes a mental note to obsess over it later.
  • ‘what ya lookin’ at?’
  • satya blinks at her, then turns and walks away. sombra looks after her, confused.
  • ‘don’t mind her!’ lena calls, and then abruptly there is an orange mass flying at her. tracer comes to a stop just in front of her, but her momentum sends them both tumbling.
  • lena leans in close. ‘she’s a bit shy around people she likes.’
  • and then she blinks away, and sombra’s eyes go wide.
  • likes. satya likes her.
  • oh.
  • she spends the next twenty-four days at literally every store in the world (courtesy of hacking)
  • jewelry? would satya like jewelry? no. she can make her own out of hard light. sombra blows out a sigh and speeds past to the next store.
  • ‘sombra,’ gabe says over the com. ‘we’re on a mission.’
  • ‘and tokyo has some of the best gift stores in the world.’ sombra snaps. she got two hours of sleep last night and she’s really stressed. ‘your point?’
  • ‘that we’re still part of a team dedicated to killing people and you can’t just leave. sombra, just get her something and come back.’
  • sombra yanks her fingers through her hair frustratedly. ‘i can’t just get her something, gabriel, amélie, you don’t understand! i have to make a good impression and she’s beautiful and kind and i want her to trust me because when she smiles i feel like my insides have reoriented themselves and i just want her to like me, and so many people don’t that it’s not hard to think she won’t either, but i just really want her to smile at me and think i’m a good person and i need- joder, i just need a gift!’
  • ‘well, here we are,’ gabe says, and sombra turns to see amélie and gabriel, dressed in street clothes, widow with aviators perched stylishly atop her nose.
  • ‘first,’ widow says, rubbing her hands together, ‘you need an element.’
  • ‘a.. wha?’
  • ‘element. let’s see. what does satya like?’
  • ‘i don’t know- wait, actually, i do. neat things. pretty things. useful things?’
  • ‘so aesthetic, maybe a bit of practicality. let me guess. blue. good. gabriel?’
  • ‘you’ll need some sort of blue cloth, perhaps. and something to counter it- perhaps purple would work, considering your colour scheme. it has to be something from the heart.’
  • ‘why- i thought the mission-’
  • ‘the mission can fuck itself. we’re here for my little sister.’ 
  • ‘and my daughter,’ gabe adds, and sombra’s legitimately tearing up a little.
  • widow whips a cell phone out of her leather trench coat and dials a number, speaking in rapid-fire french. she looks up after a moment.
  • ‘paris fashion boutique. they can have premium blue silk in ten minutes.’
  • ‘make it two,’ gabe says grimly, and moves through the rack of japanese silk, picking out a light purple number and reaching for one of the daggers in widow’s boot. he slices through the cloth, cuts it into the shape of symmetra’s design spray.
  • widow hangs up. ‘got it.’ she tosses a really expensive package of blue silk at him, and he takes it, cutting it into a cool design and gluing the two together. a clerk runs toward them, staring at the scraps of cloth that are probably worth more than a few million dollars, and amélie tosses a cheque down before they disappear.
  • ‘think about it,’ gabe says as they hold onto the grappling hook (which is attached to a nearby plane). ‘what do you think symmetra would appreciate?’
  • ‘i don’t know.’
  • ‘well, what do you like?’
  • ‘hacking. and horchata caliente. and girls.’
  • ‘hey, amélie!’ gabe shouts. ‘is symmetra into girls?’
  • amélie blinks, shrugs. gabe sighs.
  • ‘we’ll think of something.’
  • they do.
  • the day rolls around, and sombra approaches symmetra nervously.
  • ‘hi,’ she says, hands behind her back, and satya looks at her and grins. sombra tingles.
  • ‘hello,’ she says. ‘did we get each other?’
  • ‘it seems so.’
  • ‘excellent! i’ll go first.’
  • symmetra reaches out, and sombra blanks, because satya’s touching her hand oh my god she may not live to see tomorrow oh my god oh my god fuCK HOLY FRICK WHAT DOES SHE DO DOES SHE- ARE HER HANDS SWEATY THIS IS BAD OH HECK HECKITY HECK
  • symmetra smiles. ‘and… done!’
  • sombra blinks, looks down, and flexes her fingers to see if they’re still in shock. to her surprise, her nails do something weird and suddenly she has fuckin claws like wolverine what the hell
  • they’re purple. sombra appreciates that.
  • ‘there.’ satya smiles adorably.
  • silence.
  • ‘um. i didn’t mean to-’
  • satya kisses her breathless.
  • she pulls back after a moment, fingers skating over sombra’s jaw, and for the first time in her full however many years of life, sombra’s rendered speechless.
  • ‘the gift-’ sombra stutters, and satya smiles at her, and her heart melts.
  • ‘we have time for the gift, later.’
  • she pulls her close.
  • ‘right now, i have you. and you’re the best present i could wish for.’
Right-Hand Man

okay I promise this is the last one but this chapter just has SO MUCH I can’t handle myself.

@norixology and @renjingujifortheladies both pointed out to me that Yashiro is getting his right arm back. If you notice, it’s pretty numb through half of the chapter but once Doumeki leave to take his pants off and they kiss? Yashiro curls his hand into a fist:

When he sits up afterwards, he looks at it as he raises it a little and it shakes, then he holds it to his face as he cries:

I’m just so damn happy because someone in each of my OTPs loses an arm and at least Yashiro is getting his back!

Things I need to happen in the last episode/s4 in case we're still getting to see Evak scenes

1- ISAK AND EVEN SAYING I LOVE YOU like imagine if they kept it for the last episode on purpose
2- My babies being all cute and holding hands in public
3- Even hanging out with Isak’s friends (Magnus!!!!!!!)
5- isak bringing back!!!!!!! the cardamom!!!!! joke!!!!!
6- One last drawing from Even where their world and the parallel universe look exactly the same


So, it happened.  And all sensible people in this country are pretty shaken up about it.  One of my friends had crying fits first thing in the morning so hard her husband thought someone had died.  One of my friends had to call his psychologist because he couldn’t make himself get out of bed.  Shit’s real.

But honestly if I look to the future and I think what the actual presidency of this walking trash pile will actually be like, I don’t think it will be a fraction of the shit show his campaign was.  The reality of being a president is very different from the fantasy, as we all learned with our last president, no matter how much we love him, we are not all holding hands and singing songs under the rainbow flags and flying dolphins like we thought we’d be.  

We who are disgusted are now almost in the same position the racist rednecks must have been in when Obama was elected – if you can imagine it, which is a strain – that same kind of horror, that same “how could this have happened in my America?” mentality – and that expectation that this new asshole is going to come in and fuck up the country fore and aft.  And those racist rednecks started celebrating pretty quickly when Obama was not able to deliver on every single promise he made – now granted he did a lot of the things he wanted to do, the health care reform and lowered unemployment rate and lowered deficit – but he had more than just one group of people to please so, like any president, he had to play to the middle.

Trump got on the board for being a big loud racist sexist ugly piece of shit.  The scary thing is that this is why half our country picked him, and sadly there is no fixing that.  But he will not be able to be a president with that platform.  He’ll have to actually make people happy and not just treat the country like a corporation and start firing everyone and doing everything his way.  He has to answer to people and be liked and he’ll have to go middle of the road too.  As much as those racist rednecks started celebrating when Obama didn’t get to have it all his way, things might stop looking so bleak for us too when Trump starts hearing no and starts having to look for real solutions.

And if not, four years goes by pretty quickly.  Hang in there, my babies.  Onward!

I looked at you as our song played. My eyes twinkled and colour rose to my lips as I remembered how we would hold hands and I softly swayed to it in your passenger seat. I remember how the setting sun shone through your eyes as you mouthed the words with one hand lazily gripping the steering wheel. You would look at me every so often, like I was the most beautiful girl you had ever witnessed. In that moment, maybe I was. But like you say, nothing ever lasts and people always hurt.

I looked at you as our song played and I watch your eyes settle on her. Her eyes are twinkling and colour is rising to her lips. Slowly, she begins to mouth the lyrics, as if it is a prayer too sacred to say out loud. Your eyes are glowing with the fire she set in you and your fingers interlace with hers. You do not realize I am in the room. You pull her closer. I am trembling like the night you told me you were not falling in love with me after all. I was shaking so furiously I could hardly stand. Did you know that? Of course not- you never asked. She is all you see and you are all I feel. And as I watch you fall for somebody else, I try to remember- nothing ever lasts and people always hurt.

—  ap (12.21.16)

I saw this and last one and couldn’t resist. 

Title: Lady of the House

Pairing: T’Stuckony (T’Challa/Steve/Bucky/Tony) 

Warnings: mentions of trans/intersex character, mentions of past mpreg, Trans/Intersex!Tony, past Mpreg!Tony.  

Lenght: 2351 

“Hello there, little ones. Can one of you get your mommy got me, please?”

Peter gave the stranger lady a smile, just as his papa had taught him to do when talking to ma’ams. Gotta be polite. “Sure!” he said and still holding Miles’ hand, and grabbing five year old Gwen’s, he led them inside and looked for their mom.

“Mama, someone is asking for you at the door.”

“Are they now?” Tony set the empty glass he had in his hand on the table, patted his pants and walked to the door. The moment she spotted him the smile she had ready in greeting disappeared and a questioning frown took over. He brushed it away and gave an honest grin. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Uh, sorry,” she looked at him funny, as if not understanding why he was standing at his own door, “I wanted to speak to someone else.”

“Oh, sure,” he nodded and gestured for her to stay put. “One sec, I’ll get them for you.”

He returned to the kitchen and spotted Steve cleaning the dishes, halfway through with them. “Steve, someone wants to talk to you.”

Steve shut the water down and dried his hands on one of the many dish towels. “Anyone I know?”

“Not sure, looks like a sales lady. Might want to hook you on something.”

“They didn’t hook you?”

Tony shrugged. “Didn’t even tell me what she was selling. Said they wanted to talk to someone else.”

“Huh,” with that said Steve walked to the front door, receiving the same treatment Tony did when the lady spotted him. The greeting smile, yet again, disappeared and along with the questioning frown the faintest hint of frustration began, and also the slightest twitch of disgust. Steve saw the signs and took great joy in acting the welcoming part. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“No, no,” she gave an awkward chuckle. “I’m looking for someone interested in -” she patted the bag she held. It looked to be merchandize that was mostly considered feminine. “I hope you understanding I’m looking for someone else to talk to.”

“Oh, of course,” Steve said good naturedly and exaggerated. “Wait here for a moment.” Returning to the kitchen where Tony was still present and was now rocking little one in a half year old Miles. T’Challa was in the middle of preparing a snack for him. Steve grinned. Perfect. “The saleswoman out there wants to talk to you, T’Challa.”

“Saleswoman?” T’Challa repeated and handed the snack to the smiling infant reaching out to him. “What is she advertising?”

“Looks to be makeup of sorts. Couldn’t really tell since she turned me away the moment she saw me.”

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Little Holly Wheeler never quite forgot the Thing reaching to her from the wall in Mrs. Byers house. The Thing that lit up those pretty lights. She didn’t see the whole thing—her mom must’ve scared it away when she came in, she thinks—but her imagination filled in the blanks. Holly never quite forgot the girl on the staircase holding her big brother’s hand, either. The girl with the soft eyes and no hair who she never saw again but stuck in her memory. Holly draws that Thing every day for several days afterward and then every other week or so after that. Each one a little different from the last, trying to imagine what it looked like and what it liked to do. All of them unified in their scribbles of Christmas lights around the border and lanky, spider-like arms and fingers on the Thing. Setting her worn and broken crayons aside, one day, Holly excitedly ran over to her mom and showed her the drawing she had just finished. “Oh, Holly, that’s pretty scary! Have you been seeing monsters under your bed? Has Mike been showing you his comic books?” her mom asked suspiciously, a little frightened herself. Holly shook her head innocently, saying in a childishly stern voice, “Not scary. Friendly.” The Thing had only wanted to play with her, right? That’s why it reached out through the wall. Her mother brushed it off easily and let her scurry back off to coloring… Sometimes she drew that girl, too, the one in the blue and gray pajamas. She gave the girl colorful dresses and wide smiles. And sometimes she noticed her big brother acting……different. Sad. He wouldn’t wanna color or read stories or play tag in the backyard. He stayed in his room those times and wouldn’t bring his friends over. So, on one of these times, Holly set out to make him happy in the best way she knew how: drawing a picture. She took more time in her scribbles this time, and, though it might not look like much to you or me, she recognized them to be the Friendly Thing holding hands with the girl, this time wearing a soft pink dress and a crown fit for a princess. She peeked into Mike’s room to find him, as usual, sitting on his bed. Without words, she walked in and gingerly climbed up on to the bed next to him, setting the drawing in his lap and smiling up at him. Mike’s gasped quickly and, upon instinct, went to snap at her for coming into his room…but he didn’t. Because, in reality, the girl in the picture still was not home, was not happy. This was the closest thing he could get to seeing that. Tears ran down his cheeks silently, and Holly hugged his side

anonymous asked:

19 and 9 with sirius??

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

“You’re Satan”


Huffing, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned back on the bed’s headboard, looking at your boyfriend. You both just moved in together last week, and to say that sleeping beside him gets a little annoying at times is an understatement. Sirius has a habit of nagging all of the blankets, leaving you nothing to warm yourself with.

Narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend, you smirked as an idea popped in your head. Readjusting your sitting position so that your feet are on Sirius’ back and your hands getting a hold of the mattress beneath you, with all the power you could master at one in the morning you got ready to push him off the bed, and in a second, Sirius was groaning in pain as you laughed at his horrific expression. 

‘Merlin, woman! What was that for!’ Sirius groaned as he looked at you while rubbing his side trying to ease the pain. ‘You were hogging all the blankets! again!!’ you pointed at the blankets that are wrapped around Sirius’ torso as he stayed on the floor. 
Smiling at you, Sirius muttered an apology as he got up and untangled himself from the blankets, placing them on the bed before almost getting himself at the bed. 

‘What are you doing?’ You asked as you raised your eyebrows at Sirius ‘Umm, what does it look like I’m doing. I;m going to bloody sleep’ You gave Sirius a very obvious sarcastic smile ‘Yeah, that will happen. ON THE COUCH!’ Your voice got higher at the end, but not to a screaming point, as you pointed at the bedroom’s door ‘You are banned from sleeping in this bed tonight’ You added as you jerked your head towards the door. Sirius laughed, ‘You’re joking, right? right?’ but the straight face told him otherwise You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!’ 
‘Either on the couch or on the floor! I’m not kidding Sirius! You always hog the damn blankets and I can’t sleep in the cold!’

Sirius narrowed his eyes at you as a frown appeared on his lips ‘The couch or the floor?’ he asked, making sure he heard you right, you let out a soft ‘mhhmm’ as you started to get comfortable on the bed with the blankets keeping you warm. With that Sirius muttered under his breath about how unfair you are and before he could leave, he looked at you with fake betrayal while pointing at you ‘You! You are Satan!!’ and with that he left the room, closing the door ‘At least I don’t hog blankets and make people freeze!!’

My first drabble ever and I hope you liked it :)

You were in my dream last night, we were laughing and in love. You were holding my hand like your life depends on it, you wouldn’t want to let me go even just a second. You were kissing me like it’s a habit and your necessity every day. Your face was vivid, you were looking me in the eye and touching my face as you said, “Stay with me.” I woke up with my heart beating fast, disappointed that it was just a dream – a beautiful one. And quietly uttered to myself, “I will.”
—  // 9-17′16, 11:36pm

So Honey Hold My Hand - Grayson Dolan

“Okay, I need a shower, I’ll be back in like 30 minutes.” I got up from my seat on the couch with my grandma and boyfriend Grayson. This is the first time he’d met her, and it’s only because we got a little too drunk last night when my Grandma was out of the house. I made my way up the stairs and got a towel from my room before going into the bathroom. Not bothering to lock the door, theres only three of us in this house and we all know I’m in the shower.

The water touched my bare skin, it was warm, since it was a cold morning. Slightly hungover, it made my body relax and the ache in my head disappear. I’d already washed my hair and slightly scrubbed my body, not bothering to shave since I did that only a few days ago. I had some pop hits playing from my phone and the noise from the water hitting the bath tub beneath me making me hearing a bit clouded. 

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