shut the door though

Free Me

Pairing: Sam x Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Smut, squirting, oral, lanuage, DP, anal

A/N: It’s been a few years since I’ve written anything but this is my first ‘Supernatural’ fic so leave your comments below! Much obliged.

The impala roared to life and Dean floored it down the highway. I was wedged uncomfortably between both Winchesters’ with a gash in my inner thigh and blood dripping from my hair; though it wasn’t mine as far as I could tell. Sam was rubbing my back to comfort me, and Dean’s jaw was set with tension as he concentrated on driving. By the time we reached the motel, we were all exhausted. Our day wasn’t over yet. I followed the boys inside the worn-down motel room and slammed the door shut behind me.

“Before any of ya’ll try, the shower’s mine,’ I huffed and shoved past them as I made my way to the back of the room. I didn’t even shut the bathroom door before I was stripping. Taking off my jeans though, was difficult. I barely recognised the pain until now, but as I peeled the fabric off my thigh, I winced in agony. Sam popped his head through the door and frowned.

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Drunk Enough

I watched Chris Evans’ directorial debut today and it inspired this!
I’m not really sure why lol bc it’s so unrelated but yeah
I liked it so maybe you guys will like it too!
The world needs more Johnny anyway 

Title: Drunk Enough
Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader
Summary: FWB relationship with Johnny leads to the dreaded “feels”
Word Count: 930
Warnings: There’s like some “hot” moments but no smut. References to sex and alcohol though.

Your name: submit What is this?

           Shutting the door behind him, Johnny pushed you against the wall, kissing you fiercely. His hands gripped your hips tightly, heating your skin as both your hearts pounded. You could still taste the alcohol left on Johnny’s lips.

          "Are we doing this again?“ he mumbled, lips now trailing down your neck.

            "Wasn’t this what we agreed on?” you replied, tugging on his shirt.

            It all started a few months ago. One drunken night and a few mistakes later, you found yourself in a friends with benefits routine. It wasn’t the best deal, considering the fact that you were banging Johnny in a dingy hotel room on a Saturday night, but neither of  you could complain.

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Me a while ago...
  • Me then: I need to broaden my music tastes, so I'm gonna step away a bit from The Beatles for a while (still listening to the odd song).
  • Me inbetween then and now: Oh wow! I'm listening to loads now. I don't think I'll ever go back to being a full on Beatlemaniac...
  • Me now: Oh look! A Beatles community! Oh look! Another Beatles fb group I can join! Oh! I know! I'll create a Beatles Facebook page!
  • Oh listen! A Beatles song on the radio! (Runs from the other side of the house even though all of the doors are shut and the radio is on low, so I shouldn't be able recognise the song, especially since it was only the first note).
  • (Goes to Liverpool four times in one week, good job I live near a train station) Oh look! Beatles patches! (Sews them on to clothes) Oh look! (sees Beatles merch through shop window) MUST HAAAAAAAAAVE!!!!! (Runs in and buys out the shop)...also sits in the Fab Four café at the Albert Dock for waaaay too long listening to Beatles music and admiring the Klaus Voormann wallpaper 😂.
  • Is this what happens when you try to escape Beatlemania? ^ 😂 Suppose I should have guessed...

Janine admits to John that she’d met Mycroft many times. Can you imagine, Mycroft meeting Janine and trying to deduce the intent there? He either knew she was Magnussen’s London PA and pretended he didn’t know what Sherlock was up to or genuinely didn’t know why Sherlock had a girlfriend. That means Mycroft KNEW why his bedroom door was shut even though he’d been gone all night. Sherlock knew this and called down the power play when Mycroft threatened to expose his “girlfriend” in front of everyone. “This isn’t what it looks like this is for a case” - “What case could possibly justify this?” —- When that’s said, “this” to us means “drugs” while “this” to the Holmes brothers means “mistreating your body, your mental and physical health”.

I really like to think that Francis would want to promote a sex-positive environment for his kids to grow up in.

How does [body part] work? Ask him, he’ll tell you. I think I’m bi? He still loves you. Pops, can you help me with my homework? Just wait another 10 minutes, we’ll be done soon.

Arthur’s the one who has to firmly insist on drawing some lines, though. Like shutting the door, for example. (Kidding. Francis wasn’t being that open. Although Arthur did request they hang a sock or something.)


Late Night Raid (Asugi x Nina)

“You still haven’t told me what it is we’re stealing.” Nina huffed, watching as Asugi carefully picked the lock to the mansion.

They wouldn’t have to worry about the owners being home and catching them. The residents of the ‘humble’ abode were at some play, thats at least what Asugi had told her. Whether this was true or not, Nina didn’t know. But she didn’t want to think that the ninja would botch a job just to annoy her with lies.

“Not stealing, hotcakes. Borrowing.” Asugi smirked as he unlocked the door, letting it fall open slowly.

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You Won’t

Sam x Reader (Dean-centric)

Word Count: 2,283

Warnings: drinking, shouting

Summary: Sparked from jealousy of yours and Dean’s relationship, Sam begins to act irritable and angry; fighting ensues. 


You were accustomed to Dean bringing home a new girl each night, watching the bunker door swing open and shut constantly.
Tonight though, you found yourself in the library, your legs propped up on the table. Dean sat across you with a glass of whiskey burning into his palm.
“I think” you said smiling. The buzz overtook your body as he poured you another glass. “I think that you need to loosen up” you said, and took another swig.
“Me?” he said incredulously, chuckling and leaning back in his seat. A laugh bubbled up from your throat.
The doorknob began jiggling and you snapped your head up to the bunkers door.
“I thought Sam was asleep” you said, beginning to slur.
“I thought so too” Dean shrugged, “So what were you saying about me needing to-“ he began but the door swung open and Sam walked in with a girl just a step behind him. You looked at Dean, then back at Sam, wondering if the alcohol was beginning to mess with you.
“Who’s this?” the girl’s perky voice seemed to penetrate your skin.
“Kathy, that’s my brother Dean, and my friend, Y/N” Sam quickly introduced you, hastily moving through the library.
“Who are you?” you stood up, speaking louder than you should’ve. Dean reached over the table, pulling you back down and you fell into your chair. Sam clenched his jaw, fighting the want to take the poison liquid from you and tuck you into bed instead. He hated when you drank, you weren’t yourself, and he always wanted the best for you.
“Sit down” Dean hissed through his teeth and you furrowed your brows, looking at him then at Sam walking down the hallway with whoever that was. She was pretty. That you could tell no matter what state you were in. Her brown hair falling over her shoulders, and a naivety radiated off of her.
“She’d be a shit hunter” you mumbled, taking another sip.
“I agree with you on that” Dean tipped his cup to you. The older Winchester was a serious drunk, you’d never seen him loosen up, and probably never will. “But why do you care?” he continued, his eyes drifting to the hallway and back towards you.
You sank down in the chair, squinting your eyes at your socked feet.
“I don’t know” you said, “I really don’t” you gave a sad smile, trying to think.
Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and downing his fourth glass.
“What?” you exclaimed, running a hand through your hair.
“I’m not stupid, contrary to popular belief” Dean said and you smiled.
“I never said you were!”
“I know, but listen. If Sammy’s gonna be with anyone, I’ll be happy it’s you” he said, and you placed your cup gingerly on the table, as if it were a grenade.
“What are you implying?” his statement sobered you up.
“I think everyone knows it but you, Y/N. You wanted to claw that bitches eyes out the second you saw her walk through that door” he pointed lazily to the staircase. “And while I was trying to keep you from doing that, Sammy took more than a look at you” Dean finished.
You took down the rest of the glass like a shot, not taking your eyes off Deans.
With a bitter smile you stood up, wobbling at first. “It’s not my choice” you said. Dean furrowed his brows, waiting for an explanation.
“Whatever” you motioned grandly with your hands, “I feel about him, isn’t- it just isn’t-“
“Y/N” Dean cut off your rambling and stood up, giving you a hand. You followed him to his room, and he let you rest by his side until you sobered up, and it was safe to fall asleep on your own. So Dean sat by you and turned on his television, occasionally stealing glances at you. He knew how his brother felt about you, so he made the television louder, drowning out the noise coming from Sam’s room. The only damn reason Sam brought her home was the same reason why Dean brought them home. He was missing something.
“Wake up” Dean shook your sleeping body and you rolled over, rubbing your eyes.
“Thanks” you whispered after realizing you were in Dean’s bed.
“Well couldn’t have you vomiting in the library could I?”
“Oh shut up” you laughed, using the last of your energy to toss a pillow at him. As you sat up everything that happened last night flooded your mind, leaving an aching sadness behind.
“The bitch is gone” Dean said, as if he read your mind. Well he was your best friend, maybe he could read your mind. “Get dressed, I’m making hangover pancakes” he said, smiling.
“Yes!” you shouted, then grabbed at your aching head. He chuckled and shut the door. You reached over to his dresser and slipped on one of his t-shirts, wondering what it’d be like to steal clothing from a best friend who was actually your size.
“Dean-“ Sam swung the door open and his eyes landed hard on you. He stared at you sitting in Dean’s bed, wearing Dean’s shirt, while yours lay on the floor.
“Sam” your raspy voice answered, “He’s making pancakes” you pointed in the direction you thought the kitchen was. Sam nodded quickly, and you swore he squinted at you, as if something happened that he couldn’t comprehend.
“Fine” he said, as if you asked him a question.
“What?” you asked, standing up. You grabbed the edge of the bed, the room still spinning as your head buzzed with an intense pressure.
Sam lunged towards you and propped you up. You swatted his hands away, a futile attempt at trying to distance yourself from him.
He put his hands up in defense and all you could think of when you looked up at him, was his face last night when he brought that girl home. And why she wasn’t you.
Just yesterday morning, the three of you piled into the Impala and let Dean speed his way to his favorite diner. Sam tossed his fries at you and you couldn’t help but laugh. Dean hit on the waitress, and you ordered another beer - everything was as it should be.
And you didn’t know why it bothered you so much, but seeing him standing there made you angry. How could he not know how you felt about him? Even Dean said it was obvious.
After a few seconds Sam realized you were completely spaced out, and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him. Sam clenched his jaw and his fists were balled at his sides as he walked to the kitchen.
“Hey, Sammy” Dean greeted and flipped about five pancakes onto a plate.
Sam nodded and stared at his brother, an anger rising in him as strong as it was in you.
“Hey” you greeted, “Oh thank god!” you exclaimed, grabbing a pancake and stuffing most of it in your mouth. “My head is killing me” you said and Dean laughed, pouring you a cup of orange juice. He motioned the bottle towards Sam who nodded no.
“I think I found a hunt” Dean said, sliding a newspaper further down the counter. “I’m guessing some pissed off spirit” he said and you nodded, looking at the article.
“So when do we hit the road?” you asked, taking a large gulp of your juice.
“Be ready by tonight” Dean said and walked around the counter. He gripped your shoulder before walking out; a gesture of comfort.
Sam cleared his throat and absentmindedly let his eyes rove over your body in that damned t-shirt.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked suddenly. “I saw you were drinking a lot last night”
“Yeah, no I’m fine. Dean took care of me” you gave a tight smile and Sam swallowed.
“Where’s your friend?” you asked, taking another bite of your pancake.
“Oh uh, Karen left this morning” he said, turning in the stool to face you.
“Kathy” you stated.
“Last night you said her name was Kathy” you said and he tilted his head, pursing his lips.
“That’s what I meant” he said.
“Alright” you pushed yourself from the counter and dropped your plate in the sink. “I’m going to go shower”.
Silently you paced the bathroom, carefully stripping off your clothing. Footsteps echoed in the bunkers halls and you turned on the water. The water pressure was perfect and it flowed down your back, relieving some tensions.
It wasn’t long before you heard shouting outside and grabbed a towel, swiftly wrapping it around you and running out into the halls.
“What’s wrong with you?” you heard Dean shout from the war room.
“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s-“
“Guys!” you shouted, holding your towel so it wouldn’t fall. “What the hell is going on?” you exclaimed, stepping between them.
Dean crossed his arms and looked up at his brother with a raised brow. “That’s a damn good question, Y/N” Dean said. You stood by his side and looked at Sam, “What is Dean talking about?” you asked him.
Sam sighed and began to turn away, “Don’t you leave here, Winchester” you grabbed his arm and spun him back around.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on, and one of you better tell me” you said.
Dean let out a bitter laugh, “Ever since he woke up he’s been an ass!” he shifted his stance.
“I’m perfectly fine, Dean” Sam retorted. “You’re the one who’s drunk” he shoved a hand in Dean’s direction.
“Hey! Like you never drink” you said, and drops of water flew off your hair.
“I drink, but I don’t endorse it for other people! Dean just sits there and lets you drown yourself so bad that this morning I had to pick you up” Sam said.
“I was perfectly fine! Dean took care of me while you were fucking some slut in the next room over!” you shouted and both brothers went silent.
“Screw this” Dean said, “Screw the hunt, and screw you, Sam!” he shouted at his brother while walking away.
You exhaled and gripped your towel tighter. With bare feet you padded down and through the library, letting the water create a trail behind you. The shower water was still running and you shut it off, leaning against the wall.
“Great” you muttered, wrapping your hair in the towel. Once you were dressed you stepped outside, walking towards your room.
“Y/N” you heard Sam’s voice behind you.
“Not now” you said without turning around and slammed your door shut.
The afternoon passed by slowly. The only time you were in the kitchen was to grab a sandwich and go back into your room. You crawled onto your bed and rolled the blankets around you, nestling in with your phone.
: What happened w. Sam?
you texted Dean. Moments later the black screen shone.
-i don’t know
: ????
-talk 2 him
: i can’t
-bc of the girl?

You sighed and dropped the phone, unwilling to answer. As if on cue a knock sounded on your door.
“Who is it?” you asked.
“Sam” he said and you rolled over onto your side so that your back faced the door. “I’m coming in” he warned and gingerly stepped into your room.
“I’m sleeping” you said and heard a small laugh escape his lips. You bit your tongue not to smile.
“Sorry about earlier” he said, “I’m sure you could have handled yourself”
“Damn straight” you whispered from under the blankets.
“Have you and Dean ever done…that before?” he asked and you poked your head out.
“What?” you asked, accidentally kicking his back with your feet. He shifted so he was sitting on the side of the bed, still facing you.
“You don’t have to keep it a secret” Sam said and tugged on Dean’s shirt that you were wearing.
“No it’s fine, I just wanted you to be honest with me” he said.
“No, Sam. Dean’s my best friend, nothing more” you sat up a bit. His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip without noticing.
“That’s- that’s great” he said and you tilted your head. “No! I mean not like-“
“I got it” you smiled and he smiled back. “My question for you is why the hell you brought a girl here. I mean you could’ve just hung out with me and Dean!” your voice became louder without you noticing.
“But that isn’t the point!” Sam began to raise his voice, “You can’t be mad at me for that!”
“Yes I can! I don’t understand why-“
“I love you and can’t have you? Why because I’m scared of hurting you like I do everyone, so I screw someone else! Why I’m pissed that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me!” he shouted but you grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. “And Dean will always mean more to you than I ever will” he finished and you leaned towards him, so his face was inches from yours.
“Dean is my best friend. But you Sam Winchester, are about to be something else” you said and he opened his mouth to speak but you placed a hand on the back of his neck, your fingers ghosting over his skin. He tilted his head into the touch and then to your lips.
He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him so you were pressed up against his chest.
“I don’t want to hurt you” he whispered against your nose and you bit his bottom lip.
“You won’t” you whispered and he smiled, pushing you farther into the sheets.


But then Terri (whose reflection you can see in Hugh’s jacket in the last gif) leaves the goldfish bowl just in time for us to get the first part of this full blast

but then Malcolm is SO LOUD with the last part that you can still hear it perfectly clearly even though the door has shut!

But then check out a surprisingly relaxed Hugh being the master of understatement

with an unsurprisingly unrelaxed lurking Malcolm lurking in the back.

And speaking of Malcolm, the other thing he says that comes through loud and clear even through the glass is his need to know EVERYTHING and why he needs to know everything. No wonder he never seems to sleep – how can he when there is so much information still hiding from him? 

(Poor Malcolm)

Designated Trainer- Subject N RP


Continued from here

The one door closes, and the other one opens, albeit not without some effort on the trainer’s part. Calum has to push with all their strength, and are met with the sound of metal grating on ice. The layers of frost have accumulated and thickened within the cell, enough that the ice on the floor is almost high enough to jam the door shut. Though fortunately, it’s not pack ice, and it’s rough rather than slick, the tiny crystals not quite jammed together into a continuous surface.

The subject sits huddled in a far corner of the cell, curled into a fetal position, clutching at his head. It seems the disruption signal is working quite well, which is lucky for Calum. Of course, the subject won’t be the most receptive, but he’s also not likely to become actively murderous.

Not much of the subject’s clothes remain, hanging in tatters, most likely destroyed by his violent fits of rage. He’s an odd-looking creature, even by this experiment’s standards. His inhuman features are concentrated to one side of his body. Large, smooth, gray scales cover most of his body on the right, and are encroaching upon the left. Chunks of ice in the shape of claws and horns and wings are either overlaying his skin, or have seemingly emerged bloodlessly from within his body.

He does not respond to Calum’s entrance. He does not do anything at all. In fact, he scarcely even seems to be breathing.

They were halfway through their first semester when Eggsy brought a woman over.

“This is Harry,” introduced Eggsy. “He’s my-”

They spoke directly over each other.

“Roommate,” said Harry.

“Landlord,” said Eggsy.

They both stared at each other.

The woman raised a confused eyebrow and Harry quickly extended out a hand to her. “How about we just go with Harry for now?”

There was a brief, curious glance but she smiled politely and shook his hand firmly. “Roxy,” she replied.

Harry tried to take two inconspicuous steps back towards the door. “I was actually just on my way out.”

He wasn’t really.

He felt the doorknob hit his back and he quickly twisted it open. “Lovely to meet you though.”

Harry quickly slipped out and shut the door behind him, momentarily pacing back and forth as he tried to think of where he could possibly go and how long should he go for when a heavy bundle abruptly hit him square in the face.

Harry blinked several times, perplexed as the heavy bundle fell from his face and into his arms.

It was his overcoat.

“It’s fucking freezing,” said Eggsy from the re-opened front door. “Wear your coat.”

And with apparently nothing more to add, Eggsy shut the door again, leaving Harry cold and a little confused.

Harry returns home with a frozen face and no sign of Roxy. He tries to rub some feeling back into his cheeks.

Eggsy is sat at the dining table, his textbooks scattered haphazardly about alongside several pens. “Are you keeping the landlord thing a secret?”

Harry shook his head. “I just thought ‘roommate’ would have been less awkward.”

Eggsy absentmindedly tapped his pen against his notebook. “For you?”

“No, for you and your, um…” Harry gestured vaguely.

For the second time that night, they spoke over each other.

“Study session?” said Eggsy.

“Date,” said Harry.


Eggsy stopped tapping his pen. “D'you seriously leave because you thought we were on a date?”

Harry tried not to cringe. “No?”

Eggsy looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh. “Were you trying to wingman me?”

Harry frowned, more lost than embarrassed now. “I have no idea of what that means.”

“It’s where a bruv helps out their - nevermind, it’s not important.” Eggsy leaned back into the dining chair and crossed his arms consideringly. “You’re alright for an old man, you know.”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe it’ll evolve into charm when I’m actually an old man.”

Eggsy laughed and Harry’s face suddenly felt a little less numb.

“Maybe it will.”


Requested by anonymous

You yawned as you headed to your room, ready to turn in for the night. You opened your door and turned on the light, screaming when you saw a giant spider nearly the size of your bed standing on your bed.

Before you remembered spiders don’t really get that big, you slammed your door shut, breathing heavily. Though, you started to calm down from your fright when you heard laughing.

“Loki! That was not funny!” you shouted.

Loki turned the corner, wiping a tear of laughter from under his eye. “It was hilarious,” he said, still laughing a little.

“The hell did you do that for?” you asked, determined to stay mad.

“Because Halloween is soon, and scaring people is the point of Halloween,” Loki replied, finally able to stop laughing.

“If I wanted to be scared, I’d go to a haunted house or put on a scary movie,” you stated. “I’m going to be scared of spiders for a while now, thanks to you.” You gave Loki a little shove.

“Why go to a haunted house when I can make a better one here?” Loki asked.

“Because sometimes I want to get out,” you shot back.

The next day, you decided you wanted to watch The Ring with a couple of the other Avengers. However, midway through, the girl who crawled out of the TV in the movie seemed to crawl out of the TV you wee watching on. You shouted in fear and shock, jumping back further onto the couch. Though he tried to stifle it, you could hear Loki laughing.

“Hey, I told you not to scare me,” you scolded Loki.

“No, you said that if you wanted to be scared, you’d watch a scary movie. You’re watching a scary movie, so I figured I’d scare you,” Loki stated.

“Jerk,” you grumbled.

I miss the describable feeling of knowing everything will be okay because I have you in my life. 

The feeling of okayness when everything in my life is in total chaos. 

I miss you. I miss that describable feeling that comes with you. 

I hope you come back.

My door is always open in case you come back. And please don’t take too long. Because robbers might enter my house full of memories of you. 

And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want them to rob that.

So please come back and everything will be okay again even though I’ll never be okay again.

Because you were the one who left the door open. It was never me.

I will never know the reason why you left it open. Is it because you’re coming back? Is it because the door is broken? Is it because I’m still the one who needs to shut the door close even though you’re the one who left me broken? 

I just don’t fucking know the reason why! 

And I’m forever broken not knowing why you left the door open inside my house full of memories of you.

—  My House Full Of Memories Of You by Juansen Dizon

anonymous asked:

i will yell at you even though both our doors are closed to shut up your class jesus christ au cause imagine Clarke getting pissy like that

The Sacking of Iona

Thank you for this prompt, I had a lot of fun with it!  This is vaguely based on one of the greatest days of my middle school career.

It was sixth period, aka Clarke’s last class and she was exhausted, as she always was by this point in the day.  Teaching biology to high schoolers who just wanted to stab each other with dissection tools and makes jokes about frog intestines was exhausting.

She was bringing up her slideshow about binary fission and asexual reproduction when she heard it.

The noise from across the hall.  From his classroom.  The noise that had been tormenting her all day.

Clarke took a deep breath to calm herself.  There were forty-five minutes left of this period and then school was finished.  She’d been dealing with it all day and she could do it for another forty-five minutes.  It was forty-five minutes.  That was nothing.  Right?


“Okay, guys,” she said, “does anyone know how bacteria reproduce?”

There was a particularly loud cheer from across the hall.

Clarke ground her teeth together and, ignoring the five raised hands from her class, crossed the front of the room to her closed door and looked out across the deserted hallway into Room 1215.  His room.

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Natasha frowned, eyes panning over the door to her safe house. It was more of an apartment, really, but it was still a secure place for her to hide out, and no one should have known about it. And yet, she was looking at the key pad, retina scanner, all of it, and though the door was sealed shut, she was sure it had been tampered with. 

She was cold, wet, and bleeding. Rain water dripped from her hiar onto the ground, mixed with blood from the gash on her forehead, as she planned her next move. Natasha wasn’t sure she had the energy to make it to her next closest safe house, and she certainly couldn’t do it without being found, not in her current state. But the issue of if she could win a fight in her state was still there.

Without other option, she pulled her gun, and unlocked the door, preparing for the worst.

Walk ll Ziall

[ hazzaxstylez ]

Niall was leaning against the balcony he had inside his room. His room unfortunately stood right next to Zayn’s and he could hear Zayn on the phone obviously talking to Perrie. He shook his head and went back into his room, not wanting to continue to listen to the conversation. He grabbed his cell phone and checked over his twitter. Anything he could do to get his mind off of his fellow bandmate.

To just about anyone it would seem like Niall just didn’t want to intrude into his bandmate’s private life but he really just couldn’t stand to listen to Zayn talking to his fiance because he had the biggest crush on his bandmate. He knew Zayn would never return his feelings though which probably hurt the blonde even more. Niall grabbed the remote and turned on the tv and skimmed through the channels. He jumped when there was a knock on his door though. He shut the tv off and got up, walking to the door and opening it. Much to his displeasure it was the one person who he didn’t really want to see, Zayn. 

What do you want Zayn?” he asked giving his bandmate a blank stare and made sure he sounded annoyed.

Sigurd’s head poked into the music room, eyes scanning— empty room, perfect. He didn’t like being around others when practicing, stepping into the room, door shutting behind him silently. His case swung from his hand, though he briefly considered one of the keyboards; perhaps that would be for later on. He’d stick with his comforts for the moment, heading further into the room, settling near one of the far corners of the room as he unpacked his viola. His gloves were the next things to take care of, neatly removed and folded atop his case.

He raised it, letting the bow glide along strings for a few moments before settling into a soft medley, melding through various melodious that he knew, before sticking to one song. The Norwegian sighed softly, relaxing as he shut his eyes to be able to concentrate.  He was entirely focused on this, the movements of his fingers, and the need to make sure it sounded perfect (despite having the piece memorized by heart, playing it more than just a few times before). So focused, that he wouldn’t have even noticed if anyone else was around.


Shouldn’t Come Back ll F2F ll Dantana

Dani sighed as she walked into Santana’s house and shut the door behind her. That walk was longer then she though it would be but she wasn’t going to complain, she needed it to release some steam. After kicking off her shoes, Dani walked with her guitar case up the stairs and sat on Santana’s bed, not seeing her, she laid down waiting for her to get out of the bathroom where she probably was.