them crossing paths once or twice

Baseball & Fireworks

Summary: The handsome guy who frequents your liquor store in Lebanon finally takes you on a date. 
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2030
Warnings: None?
Challenge: Kayla’s Birthday Challenge! My prompts were, “You’ve gotta stop saying things that make me want to kiss you.” and a baseball game date. @one-shots-supernatural

Your name: submit What is this?

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Writer (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by dont-give-a-bother

Request:  Could you possibly do a newt x reader where the reader is a writer like newt and everyone thinks they’re in a relationship but they’re not but then he asked her out at in interview or some event? - Anon

You’re gonna have to work with me here since in this one wizards use the Internet

E/C: Eye color

H/C: Hair color

L/N: Last name

Hope you like it, a lot longer than I intended 


You were the author of a book on magical herbs and their primary use.  Your book had become a worldwide sensation the same time as another wizard’s book had rose to fame.  Newt Scamander, and his book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.  You and Newt had crossed paths once or twice, yes.  Once you met Newt to ask him a few questions about if any of his herbivorous eat any of the plants you were studying.  He gladly answered all of your questions and even took the time to ask you a few questions himself.  That was all; nothing special or romantic.

But your fans wanted different.

Most of them thought you two would be the absolute perfect couple.  You never thought

much of it.  That is, until people began writing this weird stuff called “fan fiction” about you and Newt.  #Y/N Scamander was everywhere.  Being the curious individual you were, you read some of it.  That was when you realized what a cute couple you two would actually be.  Sure, you did think Newt was a bit cute.  Okay… a lot.  The beautiful cinnamon dusted curls, seafoam eyes, the adorable freckles that dotted his face…

As it turns out, Newt sees you the same way.  Luscious H/C locks, sparkling E/C eyes, perfect everything.  The last time you saw each other was a little over a month ago at a book signing.  

Two days later, the Ministry sent out letters (by owl, of course) to selected people involved in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures from England containing information about a party being held at the Ministry of Magic.  It also included a list of all others that were invited.  

Newt’s eyes scanned the list for your name, a glimmer of hope shown inside him even though you weren’t a part of that department. Newt’s heart sank a little when he saw your name wasn’t there. But then, his eyes drifted to the bottom of the paper where it said:

You are permitted to bring a maximum of one guest with you.

It didn’t take long for him to decide who he wanted to invite.  None other than you, Y/N L/N.  Newt figured writing a letter to ask you out was going to be much easier than asking you in person.  He sat down at his messy desk in his case and dipped his quill in the large bottle of ink and began writing his letter to you.

Once Newt finished the squiggle of the ‘R’ in on his signature, he neatly placed the note in an envelope and finished it off with a red wax seal before giving it to his messenger owl to then deliver to you.

**Time skip to your house**

You were observing the plants you kept on the windowsill of your bedroom when an owl suddenly flew over causing you to jump a little and began ‘tap tap tapping’ on the window holding a letter between its beak.  You opened the window, retrieved the letter, and the owl flew off.  

“I wonder if it’s more fan mail,” you whispered to yourself.  You sat at your desk and tore open the letter.

Dear Miss L/N,

I believe you are familiar with me: Newt Scamander.  Recently I was invited to a party at the Ministry of Magic for members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on April 26.  I am allowed to bring one guest to attend with me, and I would like that guest to be you.  Please note that it is perfectly fine if you decline.  However, if you do wish to come, please respond to this letter as soon as you get it.

Sincerely,

Newton Scamander.

You were blushing furiously even though it was nothing more than ink on a paper.  Boy, did this man have beautiful handwriting. Of course your answer was yes.  

Newt Scamander!  Asked ME to attend an event at the Ministry with him!  You thought.

You sat down on your desk and grabbed a piece of parchment from a stack you always had handy.  You quickly wrote down your response and then gave it to your owl where she flew off to give it to Newt.

**Newt**

Newt was full of happiness when he saw your response.

Dear Mr. Scamander,

Yes, I will gladly attend the party with you!  It will be very nice to be in your company again.

Thank you ever so much,

Y/N L/N.

**Time skip to the party**

Newt stood in the corner of the building to avoid the other many witches and wizards bustling about.  Silver trays with fancy foods and drinks floated around to guests, but Newt turned down every one.  He was too excited to see you.  Never in a million years did he think you would agree to be his date.

Newt checked his pocket watch.  It had been ten minutes since he had arrived, but you were still nowhere in sight.  

Just a bit late, that’s all.  Newt reassured himself.

Just then, Newt heard the fast-paced click-clack of heels coming from his left.  He turned around to see you, breathing heavier than normal.

“So sorry I’m late.  I was planning to apparate straight here ten minutes ago but I lost my wand in my garden,” you said.

Newt grinned at how cute you were.  “A larger garden than most, I suppose?”

“Very,” you responded, smiling.

“Did I mention you look beautiful, Miss L/N?  Thank you so much for coming with me, by the way.”

You smiled widely at Newt’s comment.  “And you look quite handsome, Mr. Scamander.  But please, call me Y/N.

“Of course, Y/N.  Call me Newt.”

The two of you began making small talk about what had happened in your lives since you last saw each other.  Newt told you about his new discoveries with his magical creatures; and you spoke about your garden and new plant hybrids you had been working on.

Eventually you decided to bring up the topic of fanfiction.

“Newt, have you ever heard of… fanfiction?” you asked cautiously.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head.  “No, I don’t believe I’m familiar with it.  Could you please tell me?”

“So… it’s basically that a lot of our fans have taken up a hobby of writing stories about the two of us and then putting them on the Internet.”

“What kind of stories?” Newt asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

“Well…” you paused.  “They’re about us… if we were… a couple.”

Newt’s eyes widened.  “A couple?”

“Yeah…” you realized you had just made a huge mistake.

Or maybe not.

After a few moments, Newt reached down and took both of your hands in his.  “Well… then maybe we should give the public what they want.”

His eyes moved down to look at your lips for a brief second.  You realized what he was going to do.

Newt leaned in, and gently pressed his lips to yours, one hand now on your waist.  You kissed back, lightly stroking his hair.  It only lasted a few seconds before you both pulled away.  You were in a public place, after all.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Newt said.

“Same here,” you replied.

Newt brought his arm around your waist.  “Maybe we should take this somewhere more… private?”

You nodded.  “Agreed.”


Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!

Photos (Finally) Explained.

Slowly, we start to make sense of the pictures that were leaked when BTS were filming in Hawaii.

#1 This must have been when Jungkook was ‘busking’ with his rendition of ‘Paper Hearts’, and ran away with Jimin’s money, leaving a speechless Hoseok behind who couldn’t control his laughter and the kids running around. 

#2 And this photo that got everyone asking, “WHERE’S JIKOOK?!”. Seems like their paths just didn’t cross with the other members. Funny how the other 2 groups bumped into each other twice, but Jikook only bumped into RM/Suga/V once when they were about to reach their lodging. 

While the rational side of me attributes this to the lack of coincidence between Jikook and the others, the irrational shipper in me wonders if they had purposely steered slightly off-course so that they are less likely to bump into the other groups, just to get more screen time of just the both of them being together, getting lost, bickering and doing random shit. I’m not saying that they’re behaving like a long-time couple, but… (that’s probably what I meant.)

Can’t wait to see if there’s gonna be even more Jikook moments behind the scenes! 

Winter Mood Board as H+L Fics

(To see other mood boards as H+L Fics, click here)

Top Left: Teacher!Harry, Teacher!Louis, Snow Day AU
Louis lives for snow days. Apart from summer break, they’re basically why he became a teacher (alright, maybe that’s not true and he does love his kids, but snow days are just the best). And he was planning on spending this day snuggled up in bed with a cup of coffee and a book, but now the other third-grade teacher Harry is banging on his door all bundled-up with plastic sleds under his arm and a thermos of hot chocolate, begging Louis to come with him. And who is Louis to deny someone who trudged all the way over here (it has nothing to do with the secret crush Louis’ had on Harry since he came to the school six months ago). So they make their way to Harry’s “perfect secret spot” and spend the day having snowball fights and sledding down small hills, and when the sun is finally beginning to go down, they’re sitting underneath a tree catching their breath – and Harry leans over and warmly kisses Louis’ pink cheeks saying, “Thanks for today, Lou”.

Top Middle: Strangers to Lovers
This was supposed to be a perfect ski trip, but with Niall catching a cold and staying back at the lodge, and Liam taking a rest day for his sore legs, it looks like Louis is all on his own to hit the slopes this time. And that’s fine with him, he can handle that. Except now he’s on the ski lift next to an incredibly fit stranger, and… it stops. And it doesn’t start again. And after the inevitable awkward silences, the stranger (Harry, he says his name is) suggests they spend the time getting to know each other. So the next two hours (seriously, how long does it take to fix a ski lift?) are spent asking twenty questions, giggling over ridiculously cheesy jokes, and scooting closer and closer – until finally Louis admits how cold he is, and Harry wraps a warm and comforting arm around him. When the ski lift finally starts moving again, neither of them are ready to say goodbye.

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anonymous asked:

Enjonine? The one where they work in the same office but I jam the printer on purpouse?

This is not where she thought she’d end up - with a respectable office job at a fancy law firm, having money in her savings account and actual health insurance. She’s a mature adult (ew, gross) who doesn’t even have to raise her siblings. 

Zelma is an adult, and Gavroche lives with her now - closer to his school and his many, many idiot teenage boy friends. He’s looking at colleges while Zelma works her way up to manager at a four star hotel. 

That leaves her, Eponine Thenardier, with a life that is less than exciting. It’s respectable, and it pays the bills, but… It’s actually kind of boring. Or, it can be. 

The highlight of her day is when Mr. Enjolras bends over the copy machine and curses in several different languages. Because the cursing is adorable - and the man really knows how to work those slacks. 

Since this only happens when the copier is broken, she’s started to… give the damn machine a little nudge from time to time. Her desk has the perfect view of Mr. Enjolras’ perfect ass - how ‘bout them apples - as he bends over the once again broken copier. 

Once again she is shamelessly objectifying him. She knows he’s smart and passionate and he works harder than anyone else in this building (and he refuses to make any of the secretaries or assistants do stupid sexist chores like get him coffee or bring him his dry cleaning). She just, she’s never really talked to him - he wouldn’t be interested. 

That’s not some stupid self-deprecating platitude - it’s just the kind of guy he is. Mr. Enjolras (geez, she’s lusting over him something fierce and she doesn’t even know his first name) is kind to everyone when he crosses paths with them, but he hardly ever seeks anyone out. He never singles anyone out - he hardly even talks to his college buddy Mr. Pontmercy (Marius, her boss and crush from way back when). So why would he care what Eponine has to say? 

“Ta ma de,” the hissed curses draw her back into the real world. “Gos se. Yu bun duh piece of crap.” 

She’d tried to look all this up - apparently Mr. Enjolras liked to cuss in Mandarin. And French, German and Dutch. She has even heard a few words of Italian once or twice. 

“Merde,” he seamlessly switches to French when he bangs his knee on the machine. “Scheisse.” 

German. Looks like it’s gonna be a good one. 

The pen in her mouth has some distinct teeth marks. She literally cannot stop doing that when she gets so distracted by his… assets. Maybe someday soon she’ll get the front view instead of the back. 

To distract herself - and to make it way less obvious that she’s staring - she checks Marius’ schedule for the week. Meetings, meetings, date with his girlfriend, more meetings. Ugh, boring. Why did she ever think Marius was interesting? 

And…. Back to the view. Such a good view. 

Bless that man’s tailor, because there is no reason those pants need to be that tight on that perfect…

“Admiring the view?” the man himself got up while she was… distracted. 

“Best view in the building,” she shrugs, painfully honest as usual. 

What, she’s supposed to act like a shy teenager and blush and stammer until he moves on? Honesty is the best policy. 

Especially because now he is the one blushing and stammering. The big bad lawyer who’s made many a businessman wet himself is flustered because she complimented his ass. 

He’s just so darn cute. 

“I beg to differ,” he finally says. “Maybe next time I’ll break the damn thing and you can fix it.” 

Oh dear. Well, honesty is the best policy. 

“I’m all for equal opportunity ogling,” she pretends to be ever so casual about this. “Just warn me in time. I’ll make sure to wear a skirt.” 

Mr. Enjolras grins - that smile is lethal - and returns to his desk, triumphantly holding his copies. 

She gets an e-mail that very night. 

Ms. Thenardier,

I am concerned about the state of the copier. I fear it might act up again tomorrow. 

Sincerely,

Gabriel Enjolras

anonymous asked:

can i request for a brian scenario where you are taking a major exam and youre getting nearer to your exam day by day but the stress just keeps building up and one day u just cant take it anymore and break down? (ps i really like your writing you write really well :) )

Here you go. I hope this isn’t too late? 


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For anyone that's worried about Garth's soul... just remember... this is the guy that the bad penny that made people kill people had NO effect on....

Seriously. 

What are you guys worried about?

I can just picture Benny and Meg seeing smoke in the distance from atop a high hill. Down below there is a crudely made fence surrounding a small … town?

There are two skin walkers taking out their old skins to bury near the unfortified entrance. A couple of werewolves are casually guarding it. And a handful of vampires are congregating around a well in the center of “town”.

“When the hell did they start selling parcels of land around here?” Meg asks.

“The hell if I know, sheri. Dis wasn’t here da 40 some odd  years I was here before…. lets go take a looksee.”

They walk up, hand in the air, weapons stashed behind a tree a couple yards back. The guards poke each other, one sniffs the air. “Demon… and a Vamp… lemme go get the Mayor.”

“Mayor? This is a democracy? In Purgatory?” Benny asks with a smirk but the werewolf just shrugs as he nudges his friend along. “So what’s it like… livin like folk again? Hard getting used too?”

“Not really.” he shrugs. “It’s kinda nice having a pack. Feels like family… more family than I ever had topside.”

The conversation stop as a tall gangly man with a smile as easy as the day is long come out laughing at the other werewolves joke, and shoving him out. 

“Howdy!” He holds out his hand. “Names Garth Fitzgerald the Fourth. Welcome to New Plymouth.”

Benny and Meg reluctantly shake his hand. “New Plymouth? You reckon on civilizing Purgatory?”

“Ah heck no. Just my little corner of it with my wife Bess, our sons Samuella and Cas, and our Daughter Deanna. And anyone else  that don’t feel much like fightin. It’s not an easy life. But we make do!”

“Samuella? Deanna?…” Meg repeats. “You wouldn’t happen to have crossed paths with Sam and Dean Winchester and an Angel named Castiel when you were top side?”

Garth’s shoulders go back noticeably. “Well heck yeah, I was good friends with both Sam and Dean… me and Cas…. we only met onced or twiced really.”

“They befriended a Werewolf pack?”

“Naw, I knew them from hunting… then I got turned and well… ” he shrugged. “Can’t go to heaven, so I reckon I’d make one of my own.” He laughs full heartedly. 

Meg and Benny look at one another and decide right then and there. ‘We’re gonna protect this lil slice of heaven.’

Sam actually has clippings about War Machine and Iron Patriot in his place.  Flying in a suit of armor, being a superhero on national news protecting the country.  a fellow vet.  maybe Sam even met Rhodey once or twice in passing or in one of those groups.  Sam never thought they’d cross paths again tho.  So he saved some newspaper clippings and an article about Rhodey saving the President and getting promoted.  

Then Sam went and saved the world and he’s on a whole new playground now. that guy Rhodey is calling his house.  He’s asking him out to lunch.  Remembers him from when he was selling those wings to Sam’s unit.  Remembers Sam putting them on a for a test flight.  Remembers how smooth Sam flew

Rhodey’s embarrassed Sam mentions his work as Iron Patriot.  Sam’s quiet when Rhodey talks about how Sam impressed him from day one on that test flight.  Rhodey had never made those wings move like that in development

nemesis729  asked:

KC: Klaus is in trouble (whatever the trouble is up to you). Caroline bails/rescues him like a boss. Because I totally want to see Caroline be a total BAMF.

Your wish is my command!

Three things become very apparent when he finally regains consciousness. One, there were gaps in his memory, although he suspected that they wouldn’t take very long to come back.

Two, Kol was laying beside him, bound and gagged. Smart move that, Kol’s mouth always did have a tendency to get them into trouble in situations like this. His brother was still unconscious, and he took great pleasure in kicking him sharply in the shin.

Three, if the sound of burning flesh was any indication, they’d somehow trussed him up like a Christmas turkey with some seriously spelled manacles. He worked at them experimentally, noting that although they would be difficult to get out of, it wouldn’t be impossible. It would just take time.

He had time, he could multi task, come up with all of the multitudes of ways that he was going to make his captors die as slowly and as painfully as possible. He kicks Kol again, knowing that his younger brother would definitely want to help once he discovers what’s happened.

A soft groan tells him that he’s got Kol back, Kol gagging before spitting the piece of wadded up cloth from his mouth.

“Bloody hell.” Kol breathes in as he glances down at his own set of manacles. “What the hell happened?”

“Can’t remember.” He replies to Kol, forcing himself into a sitting position. “You weren’t out making a nuisance of yourself again, were you?”

Kol just shrugs, and Klaus deduces that his brother has probably had his memory wiped as well.

“How are we going to get out of this one Nik?” Kol asks patiently, struggling against his bonds.

“We wait.” He tells his younger brother, who scowls at this. “I want to see who we’ve pissed off enough that they’re willing to cross me. And I want to find out how the hell they fashioned these bloody manacles.”

Kol just smirks, resting his head against the dirt with an entirely unaffected air. His brother always had been good in life threatening situations.

“Let’s not wait too long then. I was supposed to have a date with Davina at some point this week. She’s not going to be pleased if I stand her up.”

He can’t help but make a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. He didn’t mind Davina, but he still worried about Kol sometimes, meddling in the affairs of witches where he didn’t necessarily belong.

It had already gotten him in trouble once or twice throughout the centuries, and he was sick to death of cleaning up after Kol, getting him out of various scrapes and messes.

“Relax brother. I can handle Davina Claire without your help.” Kol remarks lightly reading his mind in that eerily accurate way of his.

They both stiffen as they hear footsteps on the stone floor beyond the bars of their cell, both of them hauling themselves into a sitting position as one of their captors appears on the other side of the bars.

He vaguely recognises the witch, an older woman who he’d crossed paths with a few times at various parties throughout New Orleans. She belonged to a coven east of the city, and for the life of him she can’t remember her name.

“Angela.” He settles for, taking a stab in the dark at her name.

The witch scowls at him as two more appear behind her. They were officially outnumbered, which wasn’t good.

“It’s Abby.” She snaps in reply as she reaches for the keys on her belt and unlocks the door.

“Right, Acacia.” Kol replies. “Now how about you let us out of these shackles and we can forget that this ever happened. Just a simple misunderstanding, hmm?”

“Over my dead body.” He shoots at Kol, who simply closes his eyes and sighs.

“That can be arranged Hybrid.” Abby hisses towards him, and he falls silent instantly. He could play that game, if that’s what she was angling for.

She pulls out a syringe and stalks towards him, the two witches behind her fanning out into the cell and chanting an incantation that instantly makes him feel weak and nauseous.

Before he can stop her Abby has bent over and drawn some blood from the inside of his arm where the vein is most prominent.

“Your blood is valuable Hybrid. This will be most useful.”

Kol is slumped over on the ground, helpless to do anything as the witches retreat, Abby locking the cell after her.

“Don’t go too far!” She calls tauntingly, her voice echoing in the darkness. “I’ll be back for more soon enough.”

He’s not sure how much time passes in their cell. During that time Abby comes to draw more of his blood, the same witches accompanying her each time. Kol begins murmuring threats under his breath, and soon enough he’s made it very apparent in excruciating detail just how he’s going to go about disembowelling them all once he gets out.

Abby just laughs at that, tucking the now filled syringe into her pocket carefully.

“You’re not getting out of here anytime soon Kol Mikaelson.”

Kol just rolls his eyes, like it’s the stupidest thing he’s heard all week.

“Whatever you say, April.”

“It’s Abby!” The witch snarls before she’s stalking out of the cell, slamming the door behind her great force.


The lack of blood must be getting to him, because he could have sworn that the ground just moved beneath him.

“Did you feel that?” He asks Kol, who just grunts in surprise. Kol seemingly turns into a pre pubescent girl when deprived of blood, all moody and unwilling to talk to anyone.

The ground moves beneath him again, and he wrenches himself into a sitting position, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the cell carefully.

Hurried footsteps echo along the stone, and he bares his fangs, ready to face whatever threat comes through those doors.

He’s surprised to see Caroline, dressed all in black and carrying a metal base ball bat over her shoulder.

She’s got black gloves on, and she blinks at them in surprise, as if she can scarcely believe her luck in finding them.

“I leave New Orleans for one day on a shopping trip with Katherine and you get yourself into trouble? Honestly Klaus, we’re going to be having words about this later-“ She breaks off, sinking to her knees with a scream as one of the witches appears behind her, hand held out in the air as she delivers a no doubt excruciating vampire aneurysm.

He snarls, finally breaking through the manacles he’d been slowly weakening over the past few days or however long he’d been in here for.

To his surprise Caroline’s eyes pop open and she winks at him before striking out with her bat, breaking the neck of the witch, who crumples to the ground like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

“Just kidding.” She says lightly. “Bonnie used to perform them on me. I built up a tolerance. They’re far too inconvenient to have to deal with, don’t you think?” She asks conversationally as Kol just gapes at her in amazement. “Of course you’re here as well.” Caroline directs towards Kol.

“Is that my baseball bat?” Kol asks, seemingly regaining his composure as Caroline gives it a swing.

“Yeah it’s great. I can see why you favour it so much. And just knowing that this is the very bat that broke Damon Salvatore’s kneecaps…” Caroline gives a wistful sigh. “Hey Kat, I found them!” She yells a little louder.


The darkness shifts a little as Katerina Petrova steps up beside Caroline, a somewhat exasperated look on her face as she catches sight of Kol and Klaus.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to go wandering off in a witches den, Forbes?”

“How did you two get in anyway?” Kol asks, as Klaus crosses the small space and rips the manacles from his wrists and ankles.

Katerina just shrugs.

“They were amateurs. And we had help. Your girlfriend’s outside and she’s not impressed.” Katherine replies.

“I’m a little turned on right now.” Kol admits out loud as the occupants of the room turn to face him as one. Kol looks sheepish if not unapologetic, simply shrugging as Katherine looks at him incredulously.

“Kol.” Klaus replies evenly. “Stop talking. Now.”

Kol makes a movement of zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key, an altogether human gesture that makes him roll his eyes.

He turns his gaze towards Caroline, who even now is bending her head to talk to Katerina. Why Elijah insists on keeping her around he’ll never know, but now that the two are entangled she’s firmly on his No Kill list. He knows that Caroline is also fond of her maker, despite everything that had happened between them.

“Okay, time to go boys.” Katerina finally says out loud as she and Caroline break the lock on the door and haul it open.

He staggers a little as he makes his way towards the opening, Caroline catching him around the waist and slinging one of his arms over her shoulder with a look of concern.

Kat is practically hauling Kol bodily up the stairs, the other Mikaelson not in much better shape given the lack of blood. They’re easy targets to anyone else who happens to be lurking in the house, but they manage to pass unmolested into the front room, where two of the witches, Abby included are lying in rapidly spreading pools of blood.

He listens out for heartbeats and is somewhat delighted when he hears none.

“Proud of you sweetheart.” He remarks gruffly, once they’re out in the humid air of New Orleans. Davina relieves Katerina of Kol, the young witch looking slightly concerned at the pale set to Kol’s skin.

“Thanks.” She says under her breath as she steers him towards a waiting car.

“Come on then, let’s get you home. Even the big scary Hybrid is allowed to have rest days.”

Colors

Zayn Malik One-Shot

Recent Writing | Masterlist

Word Count:2,731
Notes: this is just the first part, or color, there will be more based on the other colors she mentions in the song! i hope you enjoy!
Badlands Series 8/16

RED

The color of warmth, confidence, excitement and boldness. That’s how I’ll always remember it, him, the start of it all.

I was waiting for the train when it happened. His black hair matched his black jeans and the mysterious aura around him drew me in. I watched him carefully and quietly. He had a brown leather bag at his feet, headphones in his ears, and his head craned down, looking at his phone. It was sunny outside, so bright that even behind my sunglasses I was squinting. But because of my sunglasses, I was able to stare without it getting awkward. I always loved watching people, their interaction with each other, and their need for solitude. It gave me the chance to fall in love with strangers from a distance.

I observed the seemingly too-good-to-be-true stranger. The more I watched him, the more I thought about how he was most likely waiting for his girlfriend. People like him, the overly good-looking, great fashion sense type, are always waiting for someone to get off the train. They always run to each other, whaling sounds of compassion following in their lead, expressing how much they missed each other. Someone they love more then life itself. Everyone craves a love like that.

Here I was, getting worked up by a complete stranger.

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anonymous asked:

can you post some fiddauthor headcanons?? (can be nsfw)

Sure!

-Fiddleford likes to smack Ford’s butt.

-Fiddleford gets the groceries, and Stanford cooks.

-Stanford tends to Fiddleford’s wounds whenever he gets a scratch or something goes wrong when building the portal.

-Stanford realized that Fiddleford had the greatest sense of smell of any human being, and they play a game where Ford blindfolds him and gives him different things to smell and guess what they are.

-They slept in the same bed once….or twice.

-Stanford found the glasses Fiddleford lost in the portal, and kept them in his pocket in case they crossed paths again.

-Fidds gave Ford an onion ring as his first engagement ring. The second was made with yarn. The third was made with tiny opossum bones. Ford liked the third one.

cs fic: my heart unfolding my home

Summary: Emma needs to move, move, move.

a/n: I needed to write - I’ve been in such a rut, and my fingers were demanding it. Then, my beautiful sunflower bemusedbicycle left on her cross country roadtrip, and well…this happened.

cs fic: my heart unfolding my home

She thought she’d tamed this part of her, filled this particular void, when she’d claimed Storybrooke as hers, accepted home and all that encompasses (people, objects, earth). 

It’s not an itch, so much as a rattle that keeps her tracing the lines of the ceiling, the corners where the room meets and parts; a vibration in her bones that is saying move move move, and drowning her on dry land. 

“You all right there, Swan?” his murmuring question stumbles across the pillow. She doesn’t turn, and he’s still, too.

“What if I’m wrong?”

“About what?”

“No,” she shakes her head. It’s an acute, barbed fear she’s never voiced (words made flesh and all that).  “What if I’m missing something? What if, after all of this - saving my family, finding Henry, finding a home - what if I’m just… broken?”

He seems to measure her words against his sleep-addled mind, a silence just this side of gnawing.

“I spent three centuries in Neverland,” she feels the shadow of his mouth and how it craves contact with the curve of her shoulder, “And I never once grew tired of the sea.” 

When the softness of his mouth meets her skin she exhales, shaky and bowed with the weight of her small shard of emptiness.

“Come on, then,” breath and scrape and warmth, and he rolls from the bed in a languid motion, shuffling in tired movements across the floor.

“Where are you going?” his fingers skim the top of her dresser, and she’s sitting up now, watching the night bend about his back, the angles and lines of his neck and jaw.

There’s a metallic clatter to the right of her feet and it takes a moment for the action to register - car keys. 

“I don’t know, love,” he steps into a pair of jeans left vacant on the floor, “where are we going?”

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Up In The Air + Chapter 2

The airport is the last place best-selling author Killian Jones wants to be. Yet when a broken heart and a business class ticket lead him to a chance meeting with a fellow passenger named Emma Swan, he discovers that sometimes the flight you never wanted to take might land you exactly where you’re supposed to be. Rated M for future chapters :]   Read it on [ff.net] or [AO3]


God damn business class. Stupid, ridiculous, unbelievable god damn business class. The words were on a loop in her mind, the explicit ones varying a bit here each time the annoyed conclusion repeated itself.

This whole upgrade had initially been very inviting. She’d scoffed at the option of a business class ticket when she’d drunkenly booked her flight with her friend Ruby, the girl who’d come up with the idea in the first place. Honestly, it made sense. The flight was going to be longer than most she’d taken and it was a quick fix to make it more comfortable. A few dollars over budget on her expenses wouldn’t be too outrageous. Plus, Emma’s vacations were nobody’s business but her own. She’d schedule her seat in whatever damn cabin she wanted.

She adjusted her head against the seat back and wiggled her toes in her shoes. Yes, she had plenty of leg room, plenty of time to catch some sleep, and plenty of reasons to never listen to Ruby again. Emma set into a simmering silence, allowing a whole range of emotions to flow through her body as she snuck a quick glance at him. Appearing to be rather involved in reading some well worn book, Killian smirked down at the pages without looking up. Well, of course he’d find this amusing - she was cornered and he knew it.

She had been trying to delay the inevitable, casually ignoring the heated energy between them as she tried to figure out how this whole thing had even happened. The airport was huge - one of the busiest ones in Europe actually. There were four working terminals and buses and trains tracing the length of the facility, circling around in a way that could confuse anyone easily. It was an interesting occurrence to meet him in the first place, but to cross paths with this man who’d rattled her nerves and captured her attention more than just once or twice was nothing short of an anomaly.

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