this is why i should not stay up till odd ends of night

Valentine

Happy Valentine’s Day, loves! I hope you enjoy this not-so-short history of Valentine’s Days with Harry. I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy and I got a little carried away… ;)

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Valentine’s Day – Year 1


“What’s all this for?”

Your first Valentine’s Day with Harry happened just over one month after you had officially started dating. Everything was still so fresh and new that the two of you really hadn’t thought much about the upcoming holiday. In your opinion, Harry treated you as if every day were Valentine’s Day.

You came home from work that evening to find your kitchen filled with candles and roses. You smiled to yourself as you walked through the doorway and watched as Harry put the finishing touches on dinner.

“Baby, you’re home!” He said, turning around at the sound of your voice.

“Why is my kitchen covered in flowers?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.” he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, I know that.” You smiled, walking over to wrap your arms around his waist. “But that doesn’t mean you have to go to all this trouble.”

Harry grabbed you back and placed a gentle kiss on your nose. “I know I don’t have to. But I want to. ’S'not every day I actually have an excuse to spoil my girl, is it?”

You kissed him back. “No, but you do it anyway.”

What you hadn’t told him was that you a Valentine’s Day present of your own for him. The two of you had yet to be intimate in your relationship. You had wanted to take your time and Harry was nothing if not supportive of that. Now you were finally ready to be with him and you thought that Valentine’s Day was the perfect night for that moment to occur.

After dinner, Harry took you upstairs to show you how he had decorated the bedroom. Even though you hadn’t slept with him yet, he had spent plenty of nights simply just sleeping in the bed next to you. He must have seen your breath hitch when he opened the door because he was immediately in front of you with his hands on your arms.

“I didn’t do this to try and force you into anything, I promise.” He said. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready to do. I thought it would be nice to just cuddle for a bit with all the candles. We don’t have to -”

You cut him off by reaching forward and kissing him passionately. When you pulled back, you saw the dreamy look in his eyes. You put your lips to his ear and whispered as seductively as you could, “I want to.”

When you pulled back this time, his eyes had gone from dreamy to lusty. Harry swallowed, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” You replied. “I want to be with you tonight, Harry. And every night after that.”

Harry studied your face for a few seconds before breaking into a smile and gathering you up in his arms. He laid you gently down on the bed and hovered above you, just staring.

“What are you looking at?” You asked, almost becoming self conscious.

“You’re just…so beautiful.” He responded, running one hand over your cheek.

The rest of the night almost felt like a blur to you, and yet you could remember each and every single detail. Harry took his time with you, allowing to you to feel each and every movement. He was slow and sensual and constantly reminded you how beautiful you were. By the end of it, the two of you stayed connected to each other under the blankets – the candles still illuminating the room around you – with his hand running lazily over the skin of your back and your face pressed to his chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Harry looked down at you and smiled. “I think I should be the one saying that.”

You laid there for another few minutes before you heard Harry speak again.

“You know, I think…”

“You think what?”

“I think I might be…” You heard him stop and take a deep breath. “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

You felt your heart soar at his words. Although it was still early in your relationship, you had definitely felt that too. At first, you weren’t sure if it was love, but it was something you hadn’t felt for another human being ever before. Harry was different; Harry was special.

You looked up at him and grinned. “Yeah? You think so, do you?”

Harry smiled and you saw that adorable dimple in his cheek. “I definitely think so.”

You pressed a kiss to his chest. “Good. Because I know I am.”



Valentine’s Day – Year 3

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who cares | 02 (m)

 pairing:  kim taehyung x oc 
 genre/warnings: angst, drama, adultery
 words: 4,363
summary: what happens when Taehyung falls for someone who’s already taken? Can he control his feelings or will they take over and render him powerless? In the end is it all her fault or his…?
 note.  inspired by Dean’s album 130 mood:trbl

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11

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Prompt: “I no longer want to hide us.” & “I just wanna be yours.” & “Are you mine?”

Author: Aya-Fay

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Victor Zsasz x reader

By Anonymous & @socktrollqueen

PS: That’s the third part of my drabble set called “Glowing”. The first part could be found HERE, the second - HERE.


Tagging: @animeo2l @midnightschemesanddreams  @multi-villain-imagines
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ASK is open <3

I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU. THAT KEEPS ME GOING.

Request are closed for now, but drabble game is on.

Drabble game is HERE.

And here is my Masterlist. (It’s Up to Date)

New story should be up soon.

Tagging list is HERE if you want to be tagged - let me know.

I do The 100, Gotham and Fantastic Beasts.


Originally posted by killerbarbara

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Mirror Mirror, Off the Wall

This is my submission to #ChoicesCarnival Round…5? 4? I don’t even know anymore! It’s for this week’s prompt using the word mirror. Don’t know where this idea came from, but I thought it’d be silly. @hollyashton knows what I’m talking about.

Summary: This is some Freaky Friday shit and let’s put it this way two people switch bodies and aren’t happy about it.

What you need to know: MC’s relationship status is taken by Kaitlyn, but in no way is this a romantic story.

With that said enjoy! :) 

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Steve’s Little Sister *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Originally posted by mebeingbored1

Originally posted by dailybethgreene

Summary: You’re Steve’s little sister, you work at the little local diner every evening and it’s routine for Bucky to walk you home, till he is late and you decide to go on without him. 
Warnings: Harassment, idiot men & Bucky being the hero! Fluff
Note: I feel like this could be a series of you, looking after your older brother and falling for Bucky till he is shipped off!


“Y/N, can I have a refill?” the smug voice yelled across the diner, you rolled your eyes at Dott who simply chuckled.

You grabbed the coffee jug and walked past a few customers, smiling as you went till you came to a stop at the table. Jim Marshall smirked up at you; you hated him with a passion. It started off as light flirting, in which you’d laugh at his horrible attempts and then he got progressively worse, he just now always turns up on the nights you work.

His mug was on the far side of the table, he wasn’t making any move to put it closer for you. You sighed and leant over, knowing full well what his play was, his friends snickered as he grinned cockily. It’s disgusting and you’d be worried about walking home, but luckily your older brother was protective. Not that he could do much, he was small and sickly but his best friend, always without a doubt walks you home.

“How are your little brother and his bodyguard?” Jim asked chuckling lightly.

You pulled back glaring slightly but smiled, “Steve is fine and so is James, I’ll pass on the message that you asked.” He swallowed and smiled tightly back as you swiftly turned around, seeing to other customers.

You cleaned the counter as two workmen drank coffee, discussing the current war going on and watching the TV in the corner, you blocked out their conversation. Watching the clock waiting for it to turn nine so, you can go home to your brother. You wouldn’t admit it but you did look forward to your walk home, it was nice to have some time with Bucky, even though he is Steve’s best friend. He probably doesn’t see you as anything but Steve’s little sister, but you had crushed on him since you turned fourteen.

“What are you doing after your shift, sweet-cheeks?” Jim asked leaning on the counter, cocky grin as you wiped down the surface.

“James is walking me home,” you inform and he rolls his eyes, groaning and you simply stared at him.

He chuckles at your face which is unamused, “Let’s go to the bar, c’mon let me buy you a drink,” he winked as his friends waited by the door.

“I can’t and I don’t want to.” You cross your arms waiting for him to leave, he doesn’t seem to like that answer, he never liked you saying no but he couldn’t really say anything about it.

He huffs and pushes himself up, glaring as he walked to the door and his friends laugh at the fact he got turned down by you. You stay a little past nine just to make sure they’ve left, you grab the cardigan you came in and walk outside into the cold Brooklyn Street. You look down the sidewalk and see no Bucky walking down, or anyone that resembles him.

He’s never late if he was he’d call the diner and let you know but this was odd. Maybe he met a girl? Bucky is a well-known ladies man, not that he goes around breaking hearts but it’s known that every girl, including yourself (not that he knows), has a thing for the Barnes boy. You nervously twiddle your thumbs and try not to be too impatient but against your better judgement; you leave to walk back home.

You don’t live too far away but enough to make Steve twitchy. You’ve spent most of your lives looking after one another; you with making sure you had the money to buy his medication, him with beating up all the guys that came onto you. You only had each other after your parents died, plus Bucky but he had his mum and sisters to look out for also. That never really stopped him from looking out for Steve or yourself, you were all basically family.

The only one that knew of your crush was actually Bucky’s younger sister, Becky. She was a few years younger than yourself and always told you to say something, always getting excited over being sister-in-law’s, which made you smile. But you weren’t his type; Bucky went after the pretty dames of Brooklyn, the girls who had the time to put effort into their appearance. You threw on your mother’s old cardigan and pulled your hair back, you never had the time for hair or make-up.

You hear your name being called and you know it’s not Bucky calling after you, pretending you didn’t hear you begin to speed up, hoping for some miracle that Jim and his friends just left you alone. Steve and Bucky have told you to never go down alleys, only this time you weren’t going to listen to that advice and risk the shortcut.

Holding your cardigan closely to you, you speed up as you walked down the pitch-black alley, almost at the end and your house across the street. You feel a hand wrap around your wrist and pull you harshly back against the wall, you groan and blink up at Jim, fighting against his hold.

“Let go of me, Jim.” You yell at the man and his friends, grossly ‘keeping look out’.

He chuckled, “What happened to your bodyguard, huh?” he asked teasingly and you continue to shake his hand off your wrist, till he grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you harder against the wall. You smack your head against the bricks and instantly feel dizzy, sick and disorientated. “Should get your head outta the clouds, girly. He doesn’t want anything to do with you, he’s got prettier girls to chase than you, stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you!”

With the little strength you have against the man you push him away, stopping him from leaning in and kissing you. He grumbles something low in his chest; you don’t hear it as he grabs your arms and attempts to stop you from struggling against him.

“Hey,” a voice yells, “get the fuck off of her.” Jim instantly lets go of you in a sudden rush that you fall to the floor, you sit against the alley wall and look up.

“Fuck off, Barnes,” Jim yells back as his friends try to hold back the obviously, angry Bucky. “Why don’t you go crawl after some floozy’s some more, I’m on a date.” You stand up and sort your cardigan straight again, an effort to look like you hadn’t just been shoved up against a wall, “Y/N, tell him you’re okay and that we’re just playing!”

You blink at Jim’s words and before you can control yourself, you slap him, hard across his cheek. The sound echoes through the alley, your small hand stings with the aftershock, his right cheek already turning pink with the smack.

“Don’t you ever, ever, touch me again! Do I make myself clear?”  Your voice sounds shaky but there’s a sternness to it, he looks as though he’s about to say something cocky back and his fists are clenched. “Touch me and I’ll tell Mr Marshall, your father, who scuffed me up.” It’s silent as your words settle in, “Go!” Jim’s friends harshly bump shoulders with Bucky, Jim glaring as he walked past Barnes.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you or whatever did he?” Bucky asked stepping to you; you frown at the fact that somehow worked in making him leave.

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up, “Where were you?” And Bucky looks a little taken back, so do you because honestly, you didn’t expect to be this angry over Bucky not walking you home, “I’m fine, I hit my head a little but no, he didn’t touch me.” You finally answer.

Bucky doesn’t answer your question instead stepping to you, lowering your head and looking to see if your head was bleeding, you remain silent as his fingers move pieces of your hair out of the way. “You’re not bleeding but I think, you have a small lump. I’mma kill him,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you out of the alleyway onto your street.

“Don’t tell Steve,” you say in a rush and Bucky looks down at you, “you know him, he’ll end up fighting with Jim and I’ve been doing such a good job at making sure Jim leaves him alone. Oh god, he’s gonna beat up Stevie now that I’ve done that, I should have just gone for a drink with him. It would have shut him up, I’m going to get my brother killed, oh fuck. Shit, I just swore-“

Bucky’s laughter cuts you off and you glare at the man, “Y/N if anyone is gonna fight Jim it’s gonna be me, okay?” His chuckle settles as you reach the stairs of the house, you shake your head. “I won’t let Steve get beat up, you know that! I’ve been finishing his fights for him since we were six. Judging by that slap, good aim, by the way, I think he’ll be leaving you alone Rogers.” He nudged and you chuckled.

“It stung my hand a little,” you admit, “I’ve never slapped anyone before. Apart from you when I was eleven,” he chuckled at the memory recalled and it was only meant to be a playful one, only your judgement of force was not very good and you gave him a bleeding lip. “Thank you, James. We Rogers sure do look trouble.” You fish in your pocket for the front door key.

“Gives me somethin’ to do, I suppose.” He comments grabbing the key under the plant, chuckling as you sighed lightly and he unlocked the door for you, holding it open. “And for your information, I was arranging for all of us to go to Coney Island this weekend, so shu’up! I was a little late, don’t wonder off next time.” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Why were you two so late?” Steve asked with a frown from the living room, you peek over his shoulder at the sketchbook and grin as he closes it.

“I brought you home a slice of pie, eat up.” You push the paper bag into your brother lap, trying to get him to shut up and Steve smiles. Bucky sitting beside him eyeing the treat also, “there’s two, so you don’t fight.” Both men grin but end up fighting over the ‘bigger’ slice.

“You’re gonna make a good wife to some fella someday,” Bucky says with a mouthful of pie, Steve gives a glare and shakes his head. 

You chuckle, “How can I get married whilst I look after you two?” 

(Let me know if I should think about making this a series, I kinda have a few ideas about this, plus a sad/happy ending.- Rosalee)

Read: Say Something *Steve Rogers x reader*
Bucky’s Girl  


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Coffee (Calum)

Originally posted by iriwins

MASTERLIST 

You played with them hem of your sweater slightly, sipping on your latte and setting it aside on the table. It was winter time and there wasn’t really much to do during the vacation other than sled or make snowmen which you were not really in the mood for doing. Hence, you had slipped on your coat and gloves and made your way to the library across the street. All your friends had gone travelling for the holidays so you decided that  anything was better than just sulking at home. 

The snow crunched on the staircase as you ascended, little flecks of white catching in your hair as you swung open the heavy oak door, immediately letting out a sigh of relief as the warmth of the heater took you into  its embrace. 

And now here you were, a little book propped open on your lap as you skimmed through the text, immersing yourself in the world of  fairytales and magic. You always like how reading was  its own airplane. Sure, all your friends were  going on expensive holidays to tropical locations in warm, sunny beaches, but you had a one-way ticket to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Who was the real winner here? 

You laughed at Ron as he made a sarcastic remark in the story.  You cheered for Hermione when she took matters in her own hands and used her wit and intelligence to  solve the problem.   You had to keep your voice down when Harry did something stupid  and risky once again, silently cursing him but loving his daringness all the same. 

You smiled  to  yourself as your eyes scanned the last sentence. You closed the book and checked your watch, seeing it  was already 3 pm. You considered heading back home and just sleeping until it was time for dinner, but you were too hooked. You absolutely needed to read at least the first few chapters of the next book. You stood up from your sofa cushion and headed towards the fantasy section. Your eyes grazed over the colourful binders and interesting titles,  making a mental note of the next series you would read after this one. Finally, you caught sight of the  Deathly Hallows bright book cover and reached out  for it but so did someone else, his hand landing on top of yours gently. 

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Reasons

you should write a story based off the song A Million Reasons by Lady GaGa

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He was gone again.

You shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. You and Harry had been dating off an on for over a year, but he had never taken the plunge to turn it into something serious. At first, you hadn’t minded. You were both young and well aware that Harry’s job took him all over the world for months at a time. You weren’t looking for anything serious.

At first.

It had been over a year now and you and Harry were no closer to being an “actual” couple than you had been when you first started seeing each other. The sex was great whenever he was home and he made sure that he spent some time with you outside of the bedroom as well, but you really felt no more important to him than any of his other friends did. In fact, sometimes you felt less important. You would beg him to spend an evening with you so you could have dinner, but he always had some excuse that there was another person that he NEEDED to see that night, promising that he’d come back and spend the night, which would have been nice if you weren’t almost guaranteed to be asleep by the time he got there.

There were other girls, too.

You both had always been open about the fact that you weren’t exclusive and just having fun so you too had dated a few other guys over the past year in between seeing Harry, but Harry seemed to have several handfuls of other girls in multiple countries that he had been seen with on multiple occasions.

It was clear that you weren’t a priority to him and that hurt you because, try as you might, you couldn’t help yourself from slowly falling for him. Harry just had that type of charisma and charm that made it hard not to, especially when you were sleeping with him. You got attached to people easily and Harry was no exception. You were falling in love with him but he didn’t give a shit, and you weren’t sure which realization hurt you more.

Why you held on to him as long as you did, you weren’t sure. Obviously, you had strong feelings for him so that made it hard to let go, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about you at all and you shouldn’t have needed to put up with that. You had been an independent person before Harry and you sure as hell could be an independent person after him. There was one part of your brain that screamed at you, every single time you let him back in your bed, that you were better than this; that you should dump Harry and go find someone who would dedicate their time and feelings to you and not make you feel as though you were nothing more than a good fuck every once in awhile.

You wanted to tell him that. You had spent the entire weekend he was home working up the courage to sit down with Harry and force the issue; either you make a decision about what the two of you were actually doing, or you call it off and stop seeing each other.

But he was gone again.

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5

Requested By @wonderfullifeofisabella



The entire weekend Stiles was acting odd. Normally he’d wrap himself up in a blanket and invite you to sit on his lap, Scott would lay the length of the sofa with his feet balancing on the arm rest next to you.


Instead he stared straight ahead crammed between Scott and the end of the sofa as they watched one of the movies they saved for when you weren’t at Stiles’. From there it got worse, no texts to check you were getting around ok on your own, no suddenly flailing Stilinski falling through your window to check if you were still alive.


“Hit him.” Malia muttered.


“I’m not hitting him for ignoring me.” You sighed.

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The Copycat Neighbors

Note: All names have been changed to protect the identities of the people I know.


My parents used to live in a small subdivision about 45 minutes outside of Seattle. According to them it was a relatively normal middle-class development with decent neighbors. Of course, there were occasional scream-filled arguments from the newlyweds across the street, but nothing one could consider out of the ordinary. Tonight they explained to me why they moved across the country to the outskirts of New York.

~~~

My dad was really good friends with the family right next door, but the breadwinner was offered a posh new job in upstate NY.

“Dammit, Richard. So you’re leaving us? Who’s gonna host the 4th of July barbecue now?”

He was pretty upset, but my mom said he got over it pretty quickly. Three weekends later, the Snyders’ house was put up for sale and they were long gone. My mom didn’t really get along with the wife so she was really excited to see who would move in next door to them, but that excitement was short lived.

“There was something off-putting about them.”

That was my mom’s reaction the first time she saw the new neighbors.

“They were constantly smiling. I mean 24/7 the smiles never left their faces and they were whiter than bed sheets. Like, they never went outside or something.”

My dad chimed in. “Yea, and your mother wasn’t being overly judgmental either. They just looked…different. That’s the only way I can describe it to you.”

They didn’t just write them off though. My parents aren’t like that. After they were situated in their new home my mom baked them cookies and they both went over to introduce themselves. The new neighbors answered the door shoulder to shoulder, the thin-lipped smiles still plastered on their pale faces. My dad said they looked exhausted, but the grins still stayed.

“Hey, how are ya? We live right next door. We thought we would introduce ourselves and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Thank you. Please come inside sir and ma'am. We like you and you are welcome here always.”

My parents stayed for about an hour and during that time barely any words were exchanged. They both tried asking questions about their careers, previous locations, etc., but The only things they said were very short and vague. The questions were never reciprocated and they sat on their couch shoulder to shoulder the entire time, even when my parents left their house.

“We sort of waited for them to walk with us to the front door, but they just sat there.”

“Ok, that’s really, really strange.” I said.

“Andrew, listen to us. That is just scratching the surface of who these people really were. The weeks that followed were surreal and terrifying. We decided we are just going to tell you everything, but you have to promise us that you won’t be scared or anything.”

I should have just walked out of the room at this point.

Things started to become odd the third day after they moved in. Before all of their boxes were even unpacked, the husband began painting their house exactly like my parents’. Their’s was a light creme color with a thin blue stripe around the perimeter, and by the end of the day so was the house next door. Apparently my parents didn’t bring it up right away. The next day my dad was out mowing the lawn, and so was the man. He was wearing the same hat and using the same brand and model of mower.

“That upset me, so I sort of confronted him about it. I wasn’t aggressive or anything, but I insinuated how there was no way that was just a coincidence, especially since he had painted his house like mine the day before. He just looked at me with that ominous smile and didn’t say a word. It was weirding both of us out, so we watched them intently for a few weeks. It just got more and more insane as the days went by.”

A week after the house painting incident, the neighbors next door decided to purchase a new vehicle, and you guessed it, it was the same car as my parent’s. A 1987 BMW 3 series convertible in red. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. The next day my dad invited himself over to ask them some questions.

“I just tagged along for the ride.” My mom said. “I was just curious as to what they had to say about all of this.”

When they got there the neighbors opened the door shoulder to shoulder just like last time. Their smiles were wider than ever.

“Welcome back, sir and ma'am.”

“Yea, ok. Can we talk for a second? I just need to ask you guys some things.”

“Yes, please come in.”

They stepped inside and sat down with them.

“We were just wondering why you’re like, copying us. I honestly just want to mind my own business, but it’s getting kind of weird. Wouldn’t you agree?”

They paused for a minute, looked at each other, and responded, “We like our neighbors. We like you.”

My dad noticed something was upsetting my mom at this point. Her face went flush and she grabbed his leg.

“Are you…whats wrong?”

She whispered to him under her breath, “James, we need to get out of here. We need to leave right now”

“Sorry, guys we need to go, my wife isn’t feeling very well.”

They left in a hurry. My dad was flustered with my mom asking her what the fuck was going on and why she got so upset all of the sudden. They got home and she slammed the door.

“Jesus Christ, James. Jesus Christ.”

“What the hell is the matter, can you please just tell me?”

My mom was almost in tears at this point.

“James, I looked into their bedroom. They had the door wide open. James, they have the same fucking bedroom as us. The comforter on their bed was the same pattern as ours, they have the same curtains on their windows, and they have the same night stands that we do. How the fuck would they know that, they’ve never been over to our house before.”

“What the fuck. Are you being serious right now?”

“James, have they been inside our house?”

I asked them why they didn’t just go back there and actually confront them or call the police, but they told me they were just kind of in the denial stage. They didn’t want to believe this was actually happening, but they knew it was. They knew exactly what was happening.

Neither of them got very much sleep that night. Right before they went to bed, my dad set up an old VHS camcorder on a table in the corner of their room facing their bedroom door.

“I just had to know.” He said.

My dad pulled out an old cardboard box full of tapes and popped one into our VHS player.

“Watch this.”

He fast-forwarded the tape till about an hour in. I was in disbelieve. The video showed the copycat neighbors standing at the edge of my parents bed shoulder to shoulder. Their smiles were gone. Instead they had a murderous look on their faces, wrinkled and contorted. They stood there, just watching my parents through the night until the grainy video cut out 3 hours in.

“I nearly had a heart attack when I watched the tape the next morning. I was scared and then extremely angry. I grabbed my baseball bat and sprinted over to their house. No one was answering, so I beat their door down.”

“Jesus. What did you do to them?” I asked.

“They were gone. All of their stuff was neatly boxed up in the living room. The bmw was still there, but they were gone and never came back. We filed a police report that day. After we showed them the video they worked extremely hard to find these people, whoever the hell they were, but there were no leads. The information they used to buy the house and the car was stolen from another couple from Arkansas and there was nothing else on them. We got the hell out of that neighborhood and moved over here for peace of mind.”

“Oh my God, I’m not even sure what to think right now. I am so sorry.” I was truly at a loss for words.

I asked them why they waited so long to tell me this story.

“Remember our old neighbor Richard Snyder we were talking about? Your dad still keeps in touch with him occasionally.”

“Ok.”

“He called last night and told us he has some new neighbors. The third day they were there they painted their house just like his.”

anonymous asked:

How does Sugawara, Daichi, Kuroo, Lev, Oikawa and Iwaizumi react to their crush laughing and saying, "me? who would like someone like me?" then the boys suggest someone might like them and they get curious about it.

apologies anon that i had to exclude oikawa and iwaizumi (even though you sent this before i changed my character limit, my fault). if you want this similar scenario with oiks and iwa, feel free to send it in again when i open my ask box again!

 
~

SUGA:

Me? Who would like someone like me?” you chuckled at your silver haired friend. The two of you had been discussing the topics of crushes and suddenly, Suga had brought up that he had heard from a rumour or two that somebody had a crush on you. And in all honesty, it was him, but he simply couldn’t tell you outright!

“I mean, you’re pretty and smart. There’s bound to be someone who likes you,” Suga laughed nervously, trying his best to hide the blush on his face. ‘Me.’ Suga thought to himself as he watched you cock your head to the side and laugh the situation off.

“Highly unlikely. Pretty? Yeah, have you seen Hiyori? And I’m not that smart. You’re too nice Suga.” you smiled, pressing your head on your table. “Hey why not we go look for whoever who likes me?”

Suga spluttered and almost fell of his chair. “What? Us?”

You nodded excitedly. “I want to see who would have a crush on a girl who still wears Disney pajamas and thinks she’s cool by watching English movies.”

Suga gulped and nodded his head in agreement, wondering why did he not confess earlier to make things more easier? Now you would definitely think of him as a friend and the chances of him dating you was even slimmer than before.

After school, you found Suga waiting for you outside your class and bounded happily along with him back to your house. As the two of you were next door neighbours, it was only logical that you two became friends and thus, forming the close bond that you two shared today. In the setting sun, you saw Suga in deep thought, his lips pursed with his hand squeezing his chin. “Something’s bothering you,” you bumped his side with your hip. “Is it a girl?” you suggested.

Suga broke into a smile and nodded. “You can say that.”

You gasped and squealed a little. “Details.” you demanded.

“Well,” Suga began with a glint in his eye. “She’s very pretty and smart especially like wow. She’s in our year, but I don’t seem to exist as more than a friend to her.” Suga spoke with a soft look of fondness on his face.

“Yikes. The friendzone sucks.” you commented.

Suga nodded in agreement. “It so happens that the girl happens to be someone I’m quite close with. Someone who still wears Disney pajamas and watches English movies.” Suga ended, staring into your eyes. Your mouth opened and closed, almost dropping your phone on the pavement.

“Me?” you spluttered, still in shock. All that talk from before, was him trying to confess… to you?

“Yes you silly.” Suga chuckled awkwardly.

“Well you’re just in luck.” you smiled coyly to yourself. “I so happen to have the exact same crush on you.”

DAICHI:

Me? Who would like someone like me?

Daichi coughed, covering up his now flustered state. As encouraged by his teammates to make a move on you as he had been pining for a while, the best way to approach you (in the most casual way as a good friend, by Nishinoya) was to drop a hint that someone had a crush on them. However, the reaction that Daichi received from you was not what he had expected, a blush now slowly crawling onto his face.

“Well, the class isn’t that quiet.” Daichi lied, as the two of you were in different classes.

You shook your head with a flicker of a smile on your face. “Oh yeah?” you suggested. “And who did you hear it from?”

“Just whispers about the class, no one in particular.” Daichi answered, kicking himself for using that white lie that had resulted in a butterfly effect, oh how he was going to kill Nishinoya during practice.

You raised an eyebrow, the smile still on your face, secretly taking pleasure in Daichi’s flustered state. Being friends with Daichi since childhood, it was rare that you saw him in such a state. He was always composed and calm, and he was always level-headed. Watching him get flustered over the topic of crushes was amusing. “I’m sure…” You trailed off, swinging your legs in mid air. “Well, enough about me, how about you?”

“What do you mean ______?”

“Now that we’re on the subject of crushes, I’ve always wanted to ask you, who is yours?” you questioned. Daichi’s previous pink blush now turned into a crimson, his face heating up with embarrassment at the question.

“Nobody.” he lied.

You chuckled and raised your eyebrows again. “Nobody?” you repeated, tilting your head to your side.

Daichi stood for a moment, forming coherent sentences in his mind. “Uh.. Ah! I can’t hold it in anymore _______! I like you.”

The moment the words slipped out of his mouth, not only was Daichi a blushing mess, you were too. You had no idea that that it would be his response. You had expected a prettier girl from another class, or even the female volleyball captain - never you.

“I… Oh. You should’ve told me earlier.” you stammered, pushing his shoulder lightly.

“I take that as a yes?” Daichi suggested, with a sheepish smile.

You nodded your head with a grin.

KUROO:

Me? Who would like someone like me?

“I mean you’re pretty hot.” Kuroo admitted. You stared at him quickly with an odd look on your face. Did Kuroo Tetsurou, your actual crush called you hot? “I mean that in a platonic way, bro.”

“No, you’re right. I’m smoking.” you covered up your previous shock with something cocky. It was mainly the whole reason how the two of you ended up best friends, through class banter and eventually you becoming one of his ‘bro’s. And by being ‘bro’s with you, meant shopping in which Kuroo had been suddenly dragged in.

How Kuroo ended up on this shopping trip was a short story, to be honest. Your cousin was getting married this weekend and you were required to bring a date. It was also a sneaky way of her trying to get you together with Kuroo (after that one night where you had drank a little too much and all the secrets spilled). You needed a dress for the occasion and all your girl friends had ‘ditched’ you.

“How’s this dress?” you asked, holding out a cream dress against your body. Kuroo scrunched his nose in disgust, shaking his head. You hung back the dress on the rack and pulled out a mint green one, in which he quickly shook his head and shoved it back. “Well, why not you choose since you’re Mr Fashionista.”

“I mean, you asked for my honest opinion.” Kuroo furrowed his brows, staring at the rack of dresses before you. He began sifting through each dress and eventually pulled out three identical looking ones. They were all in pastel shades of green, blue and pink but in different cuttings. “Blue looks nice, try that first.”

“Okay mom.” You teased before entering the changing room and stripping from the previous dress. Kuroo was right, the dress was quite nice along with a nice price tag as well. It fitted your body well, showing off your best attributes. “Dude, you were actually right.” you said once you stepped out of the changing room.

Kuroo drank in your figure, staring at each curve accentuated by the dress, congratulating himself for selecting such a dress. He soon began tackling the thoughts in his mind. Half of it was screaming for him to pin you against a wall and kiss you, whilst the rational half was telling him to just stay friends. “Kuroo? Am I that hot that you are speechless?” you smirked, placing a hand on your hip.

“What? Nah, was just admiring the sequins on the dress.” Kuroo hastily spoke.

You stared down at your dress that was void of sequins. “You sure you’re looking at the right dress?”

Kuroo held his hands up in surrender, standing up and walking into your direction. “You know, about your cousin’s wedding…” He trailed off, possibly distracted by his reflection in the mirror. “Why not we go as actual dates?”

“We are- Wait what?” you spluttered. “Kuroo what the heck do you mean by that?”

“It means I have a crush on you and that we should go to your cousin’s wedding as actual dates. Are you slow or are you just deaf?” Kuroo teased. Even confessing he still had to retain that suave, ‘trying to be cool’ attitude, in which you couldn’t lie, were attracted to.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Your favourite.”

LEV:

Me? Who would like someone like me?

Lev’s ears pricked up at your voice, and at the words of ‘like’. You were just two seats across, talking to your best friend about crushes when she subtly dropped a hint that someone had a crush on you. He had always had a crush on you, the moment he set foot in Nekoma. He had no idea at that time, as a callous first year that he would be crushing on you till both your third years. Something about your laugh, the way your eyes crinkled that must’ve caught his eye. Something about your eyes that sparkled whenever you talked about something that you were passionate with.

‘Oh _____. If only you knew.’ Lev thought to himself.

During lunch, you decided to have your lunch in class as you were attempting to cram for a test that was to be held the next lesson and you had regretted not studying the night before. Lev, thinking that he might be able to finally confess to you, decided to stay behind as well. “_______, studying?”

“Yes, ugh I wished I study last night.” you complained, shoving a mouthful of rice into your mouth, chewing slowly. “And it’s math, I suck so much at math.”

Lev chuckled lightly. “Same here.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Says the person who has been highest for three consecutive weeks.” It was shocking to hear that Lev was one of the top scorers for mathematics when he had been scoring extremely well in that subject. He had broken that irresponsible student trait in second year after almost getting pulled out of Nekoma by his parents for focusing too much of his time on volleyball instead of studies. Now he was practically acing almost every subject.

“Why don’t I tutor you? Math can’t be that hard, now can it?” Lev asked, turning your book around to see scribbles, crosses and doodles of small cats. “Well, this topic, isn’t that hard?” Lev attempted to explain.

The whole lunch period was him trying to explain the whole topic to you as simple as possible as the upcoming test was testing this particular topic. It was a challenging topic in your opinion, as it involved drawing graphs (which was the hardest in your opinion). “Got it?”

You nodded your head slowly. “I guess so. Thanks Lev! You know, you’re such a nice guy, I’m surprised you don’t have a girlfriend.”

Lev blushed, a pink creep on his cheeks. “Well, I have been thinking of a particular girl, who knows if she would be interested in me.” he answered vaguely. You shot him a sympathetic smile and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I think you should make a move on her. You’re nice, charming and such a gentleman, the girl would be a fool to reject you!” You encouraged him. He smiled brightly and nodded his head.

“What about you? You’re sweet and really cu- cool.” Lev stumbled at the last word, almost letting the word ‘cute’ slip from his lips.

“Yeah Lev, when pigs fly, it’s when a guy has a crush on me.”

The next day, upon arriving at your desk, you were surprised to receive a sticky note on your desk with a pig drawn on it. The pig had a bunch of balloons and even angel wings and seemed to be flying. You hand flew to your mouth, no way. Was Lev yesterday…

“I’m not the best at art,” a voice began behind you and you jumped, almost falling when he caught your arm and stabilised you. “But hey, pigs are flying here so what do you say?”

“You’re such an idiot. Yes.”

le-red-queen  asked:

Eeee I love it when you do these! #33 Celebrity/Fan AU please? But with Merlin as the celebrity?:)

Of course darling! Forgive me for indulging my theatrical side :)


The thing is, Merlin’s shy. Onstage he can play manic and restless; soft and sweet; dark and mean. Onstage he can be a charlatan or a seducer, a Romeo or a homicidal maniac.

But in real life…

He’s shy. Like, extremely shy. Like stammering, blushing, can’t make eye contact shy.

And it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the crowds of fans gathered outside the stage door, it’s just the thought of actually going out to greet them makes panic rise in his throat. Especially when they start shouting his name and all the camera flashes go off at once and he feels a bit like a deer in the headlights.

Or a rabbit. A very tiny rabbit that’s liable to be run over any minute.

But he goes out anyway. Because he loves the fans and he owes it to them and it feels like it’s the least he can do when they’ve paid all that money to see him. Until one Saturday night when the crowd’s been particularly boisterous and Merlin’s drained from doing two shows in a day, and suddenly he can’t quite face it. He hovers indecisively outside the door till he can hear his co-star Mordred coming up the corridor. He doesn’t want to have to explain himself so he ducks on impulse behind the counter at stage door, folding himself up to sit on the floor behind the desk.

He hears Mordred go out and the cheer that greets him (unlike Merlin, Mordred positively lives for meeting the fans, bless him). He breathes a sigh of relief and flops back against the wall. All he has to do now is wait it out for a while.

Then he hears a very gentle cough and freezes.

Barely two metres away, tucked inside an alcove on an office chair is a blond haired man sporting a vaguely bemused expression.

“You alright down there?”

I can explain is what Merlin wants to say but his words dry up in his throat, and God this is so stupid, how can he be this painfully awkward when he’s in one of the most extroverted professions there is?

He gives a sort of helpless shrug and the man’s face softens.

“Okay. Feel free to stick around then. I’m Arthur by the way, I’m working stage door tonight.”

Merlin looks at him blankly. Gaius works stage door, a self-described “friendly old fruit” who always manages to put Merlin at his ease, even when he can’t string a greeting together.

Arthur must see his look.

“I’m new. First night.”

“Right,” Merlin manages to croak out.

There’s a silence, and Merlin wonders how the hell he’s going to get out of this one; if it’s possible to stand up and walk out of here with even the tiniest part of his dignity intact.

“So… um… I think they’re waiting for you out there,” Arthur says.

Merlin’s stomach drops a little.

“Yeah,” he says, clumsily making to stand up. “I b-better go.”

“Wait! I wasn’t trying… you don’t have to,” Arthur says quickly. He gives Merlin a quick appraising glance, and something seems to slot in place for him.

“Were you avoiding going out? Is that why you came behind here?”

Merlin flushes hot with shame. It sounds so churlish when Arthur says it, so ungrateful. How could he hide from the fans like that? What’s wrong with him?

He ducks his head in misery, and is nothing less than shocked when he feels a pat on his arm.

“It’s fine if you are,” Arthur says gently. “It’s quite… erm, I would find it intimidating.”

Merlin isn’t sure that Arthur would but he appreciates the sentiment. The clench in his chest eases slightly.

“It’s just a bit… overwhelming,” he says at last, glad that his voice doesn’t quaver.

“So stay here then,” Arthur says simply. “I’ll watch the CCTV; tell you when you’re good to go.”

Merlin nods, grateful. They sit in companionable silence for a bit, until Merlin finally plucks up the courage to speak.

“So. You like the job so far?”

“Yeah I do,” Arthur says, sounding surprisingly enthusiastic. “I’ve been ushering at Les Mis the last eight months and like… there’s only so many times you can see that show before you start to wish they’d shut up about their damn revolution and leave you in peace.”

“So you’ve basically become Javert,” Merlin says, and Arthur laughs.

Merlin feels an odd sense of gratification. He can usually only make people laugh when he’s onstage. And that doesn’t feel real like this does.

“Did you watch the show tonight?” he asks, suddenly hoping that Arthur liked it.

“Yeah! It was… intense. Like, good intense. I think I was shaking a bit by the end.”

Merlin can see that Arthur means it and a warm pulse of happiness floods through him. He loves Philip Ridley plays too, he begged his agent to get him an audition for this one, and every night onstage he feels the same thrill of excitement that he did when he first read it.

“I really like it,” he says shyly, because it feels funny to praise a play you’re in, like tooting your own horn. But Merlin doesn’t love it because he’s in it, he loves it because it’s dark and strange and exciting, and he knows he’s only a small part of all that.

“Yeah, you should.”

A shout from outside filters through and Arthur glances at the screen.

“Mord’s having a good time,” Merlin says.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but like… you two are the total opposite of your characters.”

Merlin laughs. His character is a vicious predatory narcissist and Mordred’s is a sweet but dim schoolboy, so he doesn’t think either of them can be offended by that.

“Thank God,” he says. Then, emboldened: “What was your favourite bit?”

“The knife in the table was cool. And all the Sherbert bits. And um…”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur blushes a little.

“The bit on the couch,” he mutters.

Merlin starts. He knows exactly what Arthur’s talking about; it’s the bit where he gives Mordred a sneaky handjob on the couch while his girlfriend chats obliviously across the room.

He thinks he should be embarrassed but for whatever reason he’s not. He grins instead.

“What was it about that particular bit that grabbed you? The staging? The direction? Were you impressed with the mise-en-scène?”

“I thought it was really well lit,” Arthur says solidly, and then they both start sniggering.

Somehow after that Merlin forgets to be nervous. They chat for nearly another hour, long after the crowds have dispersed, and Merlin’s never felt less shy in his life. He doesn’t know why he feels relaxed around Arthur but he just does, he can’t really explain it.

They eventually have to make a move when Arthur locks up for the night.

“If you ever need a hiding place again…” Arthur says as they walk out onto the street.

“Thanks but I should probably go back out there on Monday,” Merlin says. “The fans are the reason I’m here after all.”

“So would you ever date one?”

“A fan?” Merlin says, surprised. “I don’t know. I don’t think so?”

“Oh. So I’ll have to pretend I’m not a fan then,” Arthur says, and it takes Merlin’s brain quite a few seconds to catch up.

“Are you… are you…”

Arthur smiles.

“Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow?”

Merlin smiles back, suddenly feeling lighter than air.

“Well that depends. Are you a fan?”

“Oh God no,” Arthur says promptly. “I think you’re shit.”

Then they’re off sniggering again, jostling up against each other as they walk down the road, taking each other’s hand like it’s something completely natural and easy.


The next night at dinner, two teenage girls come up to ask politely for a photo. Merlin poses with them happily. When Arthur’s smiling across the table at him, he doesn’t feel shy at all.


(send me short au fic requests!)

BARE: A POP OPERA SENTENCE STARTERS.

ACT 1 /  ACT 2

WEDDING BELLS.

  • ❝  you, my companion. you, my best friend. you, my beginning, true till the end.  ❞
  • ❝  you, my companion. you, in my heart. you, with me always, never to part.  ❞
  • ❝  i can tell you’ve found true love and blah blah blah, it’s fate.  ❞
  • ❝  we were meant to be. we can leave this all behind.  ❞

IN THE HALLWAY.

  • ❝  i left some boxes in the room, i’ll come by later to grab them.  ❞
  • ❝  hey, i left you a couple of messages.  ❞

TOUCH MY SOUL.

  • ❝  things i have don’t last for long.  ❞
  • ❝  i let them in, we make some noise. they let themselves out, that’s their choice.  ❞
  • ❝  though i’ve had my fun, it gets lonely.  ❞
  • ❝  please, say you’ll stay. say you’ll never go away.  ❞
  • ❝  i know it’s love… you touch my soul.  ❞
  • ❝  i know that it’s early with us, but i want you to know how i feel, because i’ve never felt this way before.  ❞
  • ❝  i know in a perfect world that i would love you.  ❞
  • ❝  i made a mistake. i don’t think we should see each other.  ❞

SEE ME.

  • ❝  it’s something that i’ve spent so long not saying.  ❞
  • ❝  please don’t say anything else. just listen.  ❞
  • ❝  people will be disappointed, have you really thought this through?  ❞
  • ❝  please don’t shut me out here.  ❞
  • ❝  i can’t solve all your problems.  ❞
  • ❝  i assure you i’m in no state of mind to discuss anything right now.  ❞

PILGRIM’S HANDS.

  • ❝  are you really never going to speak to me again? i miss you.  ❞
  • ❝  my suggestion would be to stop breathing.  ❞
  • ❝  sit down, we’re going to talk about what’s bothering you.  ❞

GOD DON’T MAKE NO TRASH.

  • ❝  you don’t have to say another word, just listen to me.  ❞
  • ❝  two folks want to fall in love with no one hurt, what’s wrong with that?  ❞

ALL GROWN UP.

  • ❝  you know, it isn’t all about you. it affects the rest of us, what you do.  ❞
  • ❝  whats’ wrong with you?  ❞
  • ❝  you think you know me.  ❞
  • ❝  i am so sick of you moping around when you’ve had the world handed to you just because you’re pretty.  ❞
  • ❝  i think my mother took this picture back when we were all just friends.  ❞
  • ❝  did you sleep with her?  ❞
  • ❝  dream a dream then dash another — life is there to interrupt.  ❞
  • ❝  someone out there call my mother. look at me, mom, i’m all grown up.  ❞
  • ❝  just another unwed mother. one more sad statistic now.  ❞
  • ❝  follow someone else’s vision or trust my own? ‘cause i don’t know.  ❞
  • ❝  am i supposed to love this child?  ❞
  • ❝  it’s an unforgiving world.  ❞

PROMISE.

  • ❝  webster’s defines promise as a declaration that something will or will not be done.  ❞
  • ❝  where have you been? is this some stupid game?  ❞
  • ❝  you have no idea what i’m going through.  ❞
  • ❝  that night… we weren’t safe.  ❞
  • ❝  you know what i am saying, i would never make this up!  ❞
  • ❝  way to go, you got me pregnant.  ❞
  • ❝  shit… why are you doing this to me? shit!  ❞
  • ❝  someday maybe you can learn. maybe you can learn to love me too.  ❞
  • ❝  what the fuck are you talking about, my ‘boyfriend’?  ❞
  • ❝  get the fuck outta here, ___.  ❞
  • ❝  oh? you know, huh? you fucking know! what the fuck do you know?  ❞
  • ❝  you know what, then? fuck you, ___! fuck you.  ❞
  • ❝  i don’t know what to tell you. here’s one idea: i’d rule out calling dad.  ❞

ONCE UPON A TIME.

  • ❝  once upon a time, i first held your hand and love was not a crime.  ❞
  • ❝  and as i fall from the person that i tried to be, could you really love someone like me?  ❞
  • ❝  once upon a time, all i needed was his hand in mine.  ❞

TWO HOUSEHOLDS.

  • ❝  you know we’re still cool, right?  ❞
  • ❝  what if we escape this? ___, you and i? ran away, just never looking back?  ❞
  • ❝  you can’t hide anymore. i can’t hide anymore. i don’t want to.  ❞
  • ❝  what i did, that was messed up. i didn’t mean to… i’m sorry.  ❞

CROSS.

  • ❝  i know it’s late, but i didn’t know where else to go.  ❞
  • ❝  i don’t know where to start. yes, i do. it’s a start and a finish.  ❞
  • ❝  i’m here to listen, here to understand you.  ❞
  • ❝  well, i’ve tried to be strong, i’ve tried to belong.  ❞
  • ❝  can i please see your face? i’m in such a desperate place.  ❞
  • ❝  i don’t belong. i’ve always thought this was wrong.  ❞
  • ❝  why are you dancing? why won’t you answer? why won’t you tell me?  ❞
  • ❝  don’t question too much and you’ll get alone fine.  ❞
  • ❝  whatever you have done i know god will forgive.  ❞

BARE.

  • ❝  do you remember the day that you met me? i’d swear it was yesterday.  ❞
  • ❝  the world would make sense again if i held your hand.  ❞
  • ❝  i will always remember that first stolen moment. there you were kissing me, and time seemed to freeze.  ❞
  • ❝  if prayer were the answer i’d fall on my knees.  ❞
  • ❝  i’ve never been this bare.  ❞
  • ❝  i’ve never been so scared.  ❞
  • ❝  i know you’re here in my heart.  ❞
  • ❝  please understand that i tried.  ❞
  • ❝  i love you, and i loved you from the start.  ❞
  • ❝  please know i loved you.  ❞

ABSOLUTION.

  • ❝  most words seem to fall empty, but i’ll try.  ❞
  • ❝  did you know how much he loved? did you know how much he cared?  ❞
  • ❝  we were so in love.  ❞
  • ❝  we were so in love and that’s what i find so odd; our love was pure and nothing else brought me closer to god.  ❞
  • ❝  i forgive you.  ❞

NO VOICE.

  • ❝  there will be tears today but we’ll get through.  ❞
  • ❝  i never found the words to say. always thought we’d talk one day.  ❞
  • ❝  you can’t begin to know the pain you’ve caused.  ❞
  • ❝  in the sorrow, guilt, and rage, i keep coming back to doubt.  ❞
  • ❝  i tried to find the words to… just the right quotation… but i must confess i came up empty.  ❞
  • ❝  how did a simple love get complicated?  ❞
  • ❝  it’s so hard to find your way when you have no voice to guide you.  ❞

anonymous asked:

Could yo do 11 ans 32 with peter maximoff pleassseeeee I realy love your writing! Thank you so much

Prompts: “Stay the night. Please.” and “Are you still awake…?”

A/N: I :) really :) wish :) I :) could :) write :) Peter :) Maximoff :) better :))


It was common enough to find Peter lounging in your room after a long day of classes, as well as to pop in at any given time between after class till morning. You ad never really questioned his motives as well as the reasons why, but nevertheless you enjoyed his company. He was your best friend, after all. A majority of the time he would be lounging across your bed, headphones on and listening to his mixtapes, occasionally zooming across your room to check out your trinkets or closet. He was never the type to sit still or do homework, which was why it didn’t surprise you to learn of his odd habits. As soon as you returned, you made him wait—which always seemed like the worst type of punishment for a mutant with super speed, but at the moment you were determined to finish your homework, after that you were free. It was common enough to find the two of you together and like a bunch of juvenile delinquents, loved to cause mischief.

Scott Summers was always both of your favorite target, besides the fact that he always seemed to always have it out for the two of you, he was overall a complete pain in the ass. There was never any doubt that he liked the two of you, but as soon as he was once again placed in his leadership position, he became relentless. HIs reactions were always priceless, the two of you having to hide out for a few days afterwards, but in the end it was all worth it; especially if he was hanging around Jean for the time being. Before Scott could truly understand what was happening, Peter would have already whisked you away, in his arms bridal style, before arriving inside your room; collapsing on your bed and full of laughter.

It happened before you even knew what was going on, but goddamn his smile drove you absolutely mad. Before long, you fell in love with his eyes, the way they held that euphoric and freedom glow after he had complete a prank r a mission. This feeling was completely foreign an horrifying to think about,  especially the effects the emotion had as it took its toll on the person. Take Scott Summers as an example. With his undeniable crush on the reside red-haired psychic, made her vulnerable—made him susceptible to emotions. There wasn’t any hesitation, he would clearly lay down his life for her own, despite her not even showing a bit of an inkling that she fancied him back. Love was a roller coaster of pain, heartbreak, and sadness, a certain force of nature that you did not want to reckon with. Numerous times you had attempted to escape it’s grasp, but after months of avoidance, you had finally succumbed to its grasp.

You couldn't seem to find yourself without him, which was normal enough behavior, despite the fact of his usual flirtatious attitude. Normally, his attitude wouldn’t have concerned you, but now it only made you feel insecure. Any girl in a few feet radius would be on his radar, in a few seconds he would have zoomed over and ignited a conversation. In a matter of minutes you could only assume he had the girl swooning, but you never stuck around long enough to find out, the hurt and embarrassment inside your heart already clouding your judgement. You were angry at him and at yourself, but you placed a majority of the blame on yourself. There was no explanation for how you allowed yourself to end up in a situation like this, a place where you had no control, where you vowed never to find yourself in again.

On particularly bad days, where you could hardly control your ire, you would disappear for a few hours. Ending up roaming the grounds, aimlessly walking and thinking over the past events, as soon as you cooled off you would return to your room and find him sitting on your bed. He had noticed your disappearances, yet never had the heart to ask you about, settling on the idea that you were hanging around Jubilee or Kurt for some time. There was never any reason for him to suspect any different, after all, when it came to feelings of love; Peter was as dense as a doorknob.

Tonight was no different, there he was fiddling with his hands slightly—a nervous habit that you had noticed a couple of months earlier. Startled by the sudden sound of the door opening, his head snapped up before meeting his blue eyes with your own. There was this odd sense of awkwardness that seemed to surround the air, thoughts on the tips of both of your tongues, yet no one was willing to say anything. After all the two of you have been through, never once had this ever happened and it sent shivers down your spine.

“It’s late, I should probably head to sleep.”

That was odd, Peter was never the type to willing submit to sleep, most of the time it would be you chiding him about the urgency of waking up early the next day. The second thing that you had noticed was the fact that he didn’t use his speed, which on a daily basis he would nearly abuse. Before he could step one foot outside your door, your hand had already latched onto his wrist, surprising the both of you.

“Stay the night. Please.”

There were no objections, you falling asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Him, on the other hand, had a bit of trouble. With your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs entangled, and heat radiating from you, he had a hard time sleeping that night. He was unsure how much time had passed, before he called out in the night.

“Are you still awake…?”

By only being answered with his soft snores, he knew that you were already too far gone to be awakened now. Instead, he settled for wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer towards him, the smell of your shampoo intoxicating him. Pressing a quick kiss on your temple, he closed his eyes, letting sleep take him.

He couldn’t wait to see your reaction in the morning.

Malec AU first meeting #3 ‘Sky’ and ‘Flying’

I got two prompt over at FF.net. I combined them. It got way too long and more than once I asked myself ‘What the heck are you writing?’.

Doctor!Magnus encounters a young patient with feather tattoos all over his body and a strange story about a falcon exiled from the sky.

Now, enjoy my sleep deprived weirdness. :D

-+-

When a bird took off to fly there was a sound much like a heartbeat and Magnus couldn’t help but feel jealous at the seemingly effortless way the bird escaped the world’s gravity. Magnus had tried to do the same as a little kid. He’d thought if he’d only run fast enough he could do the same. Then wings would spread from his back, his body would become weightless and he could just fly away, leaving all those yelling adults behind. 

A childish dream, nothing more. But it was still there, in the back of his mind, whenever he saw a bird taking off, flapping its wings, adding another heartbeat to the wind and Magnus found himself whispering ‘Take me with you’.

-+-

“You’re new”, was the first thing the boy said when Magnus entered the room. The boy seemed oddly relaxed for a patient with heavy bruising, assuming that Magnus had grabbed the right file. He sat on the bed leaning back on on his hands, so his long legs could swing forth and back without brushing the boring linoleum beneath their feet. His head was tilted and unbelievably blue eyes looked at Magnus, big, curious and with that innocence of trusting children. The expression was odd on the face of a 19-year-old. They usually wore darker expressions, hating the world, being annoyed at everything, rolling their eyes. But those eyes didn’t leave Magnus for a second.

Only when the boy smiled, silently asking what would happen next, Magnus realized that he’d just been standing there, staring at the patient. 

“Uh, no, I’m not new”, he eventually said, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer, “I’m just filling in for Dr. Loss.”

“Oh, is she alright? Did she have an accident?”

Confused Magnus looked up from the file, again those blue eyes were big, filled with real worry, fear, almost panic even? “No …”, he said slowly, entranced by that intense gaze, it was like the boys emotions were so tangible he could feel them brushing his skin, a million cold fingertips. 

“She just caught a cold, she’ll be back to work next week. She’s a tough one.”

Relieved the boy let out a breath and sank back onto the bed. “That’s good”, he whispered and then continued a bit louder, “I really like her, you know, she’s nice.”

Magnus felt himself smiling. “Don’t worry.” A few seconds past again till he remembered why he was here in this room in the first place. Geez, what was wrong with him today? He’d even gotten more sleep than usual the last night. It couldn’t be from exhaustion. But maybe … his eyes lingered on the boy in front of him who’d began to inspect a whole at the hem of his washed out black sweater. 

“But you aren’t here to ask about Dr. Loss, are you …” A quick peek at the file. “Alexander?”

“Alec”, the boy - Alexander - whispered not looking up from where he now had put a finger through the hole at the sweater’s hem. The piece of clothing was pretty beat up in general, frayed at the hem, collar, at the end of the sleeves. His pants didn’t really look much better, his hair was a black mess, like splattered ink, but he didn’t appear to be a homeless kid. He skin was clean, his lips not chapped despite the lower temperatures lately. And also his hair was maybe messy, but it wasn’t greasy or anything like that. 

“Well then, Alec.” Magnus liked the sound and he liked the way the corners of Alec’s mouth tilted upwards at the use of the nickname. “Let’s see those bruises.”

-+-

As it turned out, Alec had quite a few of them, on his arms, his torso, his legs as well. But instead of asking what in the world had ran him over Magnus was mesmerized by the feathers. Black stylized feathers in all sizes were scattered all over Alec’s pale skin. They looked like tattoos, but they didn’t follow any kind of pattern, didn’t form a bigger picture, they were just feathers scattered like at one point they had been real and before they could get inked into Alec’s skin, the wind had whirled them across the skin. The most feathers were gathered on Alec’s right shoulder, trailing down his arm and the last one ending right above his wrist.

“How did you get those bruises?”

“I fell from a tree.”

Magnus raised his eyebrow and managed to tear his gaze away from the feathers for a second.

“A tree?” His eyes moved back and forth between a big purpling bruise on Alec’s stomach and his face. Blue eyes stayed calm and warm. He already knew the disbelieve coloring Magnus’ voice and suddenly Magnus felt agitated about being one of many for this boy.  

“It was a very high tree.”

“But you are here like every other week.”

Alec just shrugged and nodded. “Sure, I climb a lot of trees.”
“And then fall down?”

At that Alec’s gaze fell down to his hands that lay in his lap, his palms turned upward. "I like it”, he said, his voice suddenly dark and serious, but there was something else in there, like long forgotten tears and desperate screams breaking the surface again. “It’s the closest I can get to the wind … and I want to fly, but then I forget …” A bitter smile twisted Alec’s features, sharp as shattered glass and his eyes were filled with silent rage. “I always forget that I can’t fly.” His voice was hoarse, his hands balled into fists. 

“Humans can’t fly, Alec”, Magnus said softly, thinking back to his own childish dreams. Birds would always leave them behind. 

“Right”, Alec muttered, but his eyes were far away, maybe caught up in his own dreams.   

Magnus walked around the bed to take a look at the boy’s back. That was when he first noticed the feather tied into his messy hair. It was black with a think white line at the end, almost melting into the raven strands. But it was also slightly longer than the other his hair. He should have noticed it earlier especially with the angry neon light casting sharp shadows from above. The bright light was good for inspecting wounds, getting a better look at reddened skin and such, but Magnus couldn’t help but think that Alec’s appearance with his pale skin, those feathers and his blue eyes was made for dim lighting, with soft shadows getting lost in the creases of his sweater, scurrying across is skin, kissing the disarray of tattoos. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Barely … Dr. Loss made me promise to come here whenever I fall from another tree.”

Magnus looked at Alec’s profile. “Are you sure that it’s always a tree?”, he asked carefully. 

Alec rolled his eyes at him, but didn’t turn his head as Magnus stepped behind him. There were some cuts, but nothing serious. “I’m not getting beaten. I live on my own, so first I would have to find somebody to beat me … I just …” His shoulders tensed making scars appear that had been hidden under the dark color of the tattoos. Magnus stepped closer, narrowing his eyes at the zig-zagged lines, that turned into a bigger picture which made even less sense to him than the feathers. “I want to feel the wind.”

Alec’s voice sounded far away as Magnus began to understand the shape of the scars on his back. They were long with edges frayed like the hem of his sweater, his collar, his sleeves and there were two of them. One around his right shoulder blade, the other moving in a kind of half circle around the left. A cold shiver ran down Magnus’ spine, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his own hand shook slightly as he reached out to touch one of the scars, to make sure that it was really there and he wasn’t hallucinating. Though he would have really preferred that at the moment because the scars looked like something had been torn from the skin without any proper medical care to attend the wounds afterwards. 

“What happened to you?”, he whispered, his voice frail and thin like dry leaves. Alec sat up straighter when he felt Magnus’ fingertips move across the scarred skin. 

“You can see them?”, he asked breathlessly, but not daring to turn around. 

“What the-? Of course I can see them, what the hell happened to you? Who did this to you? What-?”

When Alec eventually turned around his eyes were calm, but calm like a storm when you moved with the wind instead of against it. His lips were a strict line, the childish naiveness from the beginning was gone. He tilted his head again, but this time the gesture was calculated. His legs had stopped swinging. The boy with the big, round eyes, the honest worry, the relaxed posture, melted away, leaving behind a hauntingly beautiful young man who was ready to take on the world, to make it pay for the pain it had bestowed upon him. 

"You want to know?”, he whispered, his words like tiny shards of glass against Magnus’ skin, but the soft burning from the cuts was addictive. Magnus couldn’t look away, he couldn’t run. “I can tell you”, he continued, his lips curving into a smile that was nothing more than a weapon. “I was born a falcon, but the sky became jealous of me because my eyes were bluer than himself, than the sea, the night sky. He tore apart my wings and watched me helplessly tumbling towards the earth, but as I fell the wind took pity on me and granted me a human body, cushioning my fall. Though when the sky realized I might escape death and with that his wrath, he cursed me so every of my scattered feathers would get burned into my skin, covering up my scars, so nobody of my family that might come looking for me, would recognize me. Since then I’ve been here, trying to fly again, but my human body is too heavy, the wind saved my life, but now I am imprisoned on earth and I don’t know what’s worse.”

Silence followed loud enough to make Magnus’ ears ring. His breathing had picked up, his throat was dry, goose bumps crawled across the skin of his arms. Alec only smiled lazily, exhausted. Too many tears had been shed while telling this story before. He couldn’t cry no more. 

“But it’s not like you’re going to believe me”, he whispered. Again, Magnus felt those thousands of fingertips against his skin, drawing slow circle, trying to calm him down. There was such honest sadness in blue depths. The sadness of a someone being called a liar, crazy, nuts once too often.  

Then he got up and put his sweater back on, the warmth moving with him. Now Magnus felt panic rising within himself. Thousand voices screaming 'Stay!’ at the same time. This boy, young man, Alec, Alexander was wearing more scars than he was wearing masks and he had already accepted his fate of go on living on his own, like the feather in his hairs, moved by the wind, but never taken away.

“I’ll come back next week-”

“Stay.” Magnus didn’t know when he’d reached out to take Alec’s wrist. His skin was warm and soft and it felt so right. Blue eyes grew round again, surprise flooding their depths, mixed with shock and disbelieve and a pounding heartbeat, excitement and maybe a few silent tears. “Stay”, Magnus said again, his voice growing stronger. “And when you fall the next time I can catch you.”

Because I want to know how it sounds when you laugh, he thought. Don’t stay bitter because of someone else’s jealousy. 

And Alec stayed.

-+-

If you run fast enough, then maybe, sometimes, you can catch the wind.

eyes -a.i.

gang leader ashton au


“Eyes speak what lips cannot say.”

He was evil and cruel and should have been your worst nightmare, but instead he was your beginning, middle, and end. Ashton Irwin was yours. Your one and only. From day one, you had been completely intrigued with him. After falling in love with him, his identity didn’t matter. He was all you wanted and needed. Things could be scary and rough at times, but in the end, Ashton was always there. Many didn’t know his soft side. Actually, you were the only one. It didn’t come out often, yet the moments where he was soft, were even more special. You were his everything, his princess, his one true love. In this business, loving someone is pointless unless you’re going to completely and one hundred percent give them your all. Ashton was willing to do that but only for you.

The love shared between you two was always blissful and passionate. Because you only held love and compassion for one another. Ashton only had one problem: his fear of you getting hurt. Luckily he had his brothers – Luke, Michael, and Calum – to act as extra protection. Being his one and only love meant he had a weakness, an easy way to ensure the end of Ashton’s career in his gang and quite possibly his life. So, a night like the one you were having wasn’t far from ordinary.

There you laid in his warm, tight, buff arms. He snored softly in your ear from another rough day. He never spoke about work since he didn’t want you to hear of the, sometimes, awful things he did. Nor did you want to hear that your sweet Ashton had done such things. Also the more you knew, the more the you were at risk. Risk was something Ashton would go to every end to stay away from you. 

Little did you know, he wasn’t sleeping. Ashton was the king at faking actions and lying. He rarely slept nowadays since all he wanted was to ensure your safety. He would let one eye creep open to see your awake self. With eyes wide open, and your hand rubbing against Ash’s rough hand, he knew you were lost in thought.

“Baby girl,” he rasped out, eyes feigning tired. You quickly turned over to look into his eyes. While they looked sleepy, worry was hidden in them.

“Yes?” your sweet voice rang out. Music to his ears.

“What are you thinking about?” he questioned.

“I just- I love you,” you blurted out. He smiled a lazy, happy smile.

“I love you too, princess,” he chuckled.

“And one day I wanna marry you,” you murmured, hiding your flushed face in his warm, bare chest. His eyes saw the rosy color on your cheeks, warming his heart.

“Why not in June?” he cooed.

“Really?” you squeaked, eyes widening.

“Baby, you’re my-” he stopped. Saying nice, loving things, wasn’t his thing. He knew he was horrible about it. He tried so hard for you, but sometimes he didn’t feel like he was up to par. So he let his eyes pour into yours and say all the things you couldn’t. But this time, he wanted to say the words as well. By your small, innocent, nervous smile, Ash was aware that you understood what he was trying to say. “Baby you’re my everything. You’re the love of my life, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he breathed. With your head against his chest, you could hear his erratic heartbeat and undeniable nervous breathing.

“Be my forever,” you murmured, head raising to stare into his eyes. His eyes said more than his words, but his words meant everything. Ashton was gruff and cruel and horrendous to most, but to you he tried to be as sweet as he could, which was sometimes hard because it was odd.

“You’re already mine,” he admitted, with a slight flush to his cheeks. Ash had blushed less then a handful of times in his lifetime. But in this moment he felt vulnerable and nervous. Yet when his eyes met yours, all the fear faded away, because here you were. Alive and beautiful, and his. All he could ever wish for. All he ever wanted was you, and he had you, ‘till death do you part soon. With both of your happy hearts at ease, you fell asleep.

You Said You Loved Him Too.

From the sneak peek 6x10 in the graveyard with EQ and Regina after.

It’s cold, pain stakingly so as she crunches over frozen leaves on the path she has walked a thousand times. And yet. It’s so different this time around. Hours earlier she’d come upon her darker self sitting in front of Robin’s grave, mumbling something her thunderous heart muffled away, but it was her eyes that had Regina’s heart stilling. The Queen, the one without a heart, had red rimmed eyes, and a shining wetness hidden from everyone but her.

She’s figured it out, well, they both have, being split apart though till technically tied together by a soul comes with it’s own intricacies, they feel the other’s emotions. The anger, the rage, the bitterness, the softness, the pain, the longing…it’s all there, whether they want it or not. The price of magic, unable to truly escape the other.

She screamed at the Queen in panic, furious she would dare stand in front of his tomb, but then, the monarch spoke, a tremble in her voice, thick and heavy, she loved him too. The words sank into Regina’s gut, spiked and swirled about like tar. Of course the Queen would have loved him. Had been loved by him in some capacity. Regina knows that feeling. The pure light her lost love embraced her with, whispered it into every cell in her body, kissed his endearment into her skin every day, the butterflies flourishing at his dimpled grin saved only for her, hands that held her own strong and steady, much like the heartbeat she used to fall asleep with.

It’s why she is here, eyes glued to the stone arc where his name is etched as she passes by, silently telling him she loves him, words he never had the chance to hear, but he knows she did, he had to of known.

For three weeks since his passing she has searched for a way to bring him back, but how she finds a lost obliterated soul, she does not know, spell books only can go so far, most relying on True Love’s Kiss as a last resort.

But it didn’t work.

She tried that night, in her office, huddled over his body, calling his name in a whisper through tears, brushing back tousled sandy brown hair and stubbled cheeks, had kissed his cold hard lips til her own felt like bleeding. She begged, quietly pleaded for his eyes to open. And much like the first time a love was taken from her, he didn’t wake up.

So no, her spell books haven’t helped, but Henry…he had given her an idea, probably on accident as he made mention of their soulmate title, her heart doubled over, and just maybe…maybe.

The door creaks open as she pushes against it hard, flicking away the blood lock tiredly, in no mood for any more games tonight, she’s exhausted and just wants Robin back. There is no quiet muffled entrance she tries to hide, simply clicks down the stone steps and into her vault, commandeered by the Queen, and it’s strange, walking into her own space that another holds, she should be annoyed, put up a fight and banish the royal, but she can’t, finds it odd, and yet rather endearing? If that’s the right word, that the monarch feels safe in this space, in her space.

“What do you want?” Her own voice growls out from around the corner, the sight of the Queen in a dark blue silk night gown and robe startling, but it’s not really the time to comment on how undone her other half looks, dark circles under cold angry eyes, fatigued etched across her face. She wonders if she is looking into a mirror, the exhaustion that clings to her is overwhelming at best these days.

Regina swallows, shrugging her coat off and laying it on the chest beside her, “I need your help.” The Queen laughs, rolls her eyes and arches an eyebrow at her docile twin, “I was wondering when you would switch sides.” She stands, the silk robe flowing around her, “That’s now what I meant.” Regina snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest.

They can’t hurt each other without inflicting pain on themselves, and while the thought surely has crossed Regina’s mind that maybe it would all just be easier if she ended this herself, taking both Mayor and Monarch out in one swift crush of her heart, it’s Henry that holds her here still.

“Then what Regina?”

“Robin. I need your help to bring him back.”

The Queen stills, scowling hard, fire flickering behind her eyes.

“Why would I?”

Silence echoes around them, ricocheting off the walls as they stare at one another, equally trying to find a crack in the facade the other holds. The Queen breaks first. “It’s not possible to bring back the dead. You of all people should know that.” Regina winces, nodding that yes, she does know it, but still, the amount of hope speeches she has had to endure from Snow White have left maybe the smallest glimmer in her fragile heart that maybe there is a possibility, a chance.

“This is different.”

“How?”

“He and I shared a soul, technically all three of us did now that you and I are…” she motions between them, “what we are.”

A dark smile tugs across the Queen’s face as hands come to rest on her hips, a finger pointing, accusingly questioning as she stalks forward, “You want me to give up my soul for him, don’t you?” She snarks, pressing a long red painted nail into the black wool coat Regina wears, pushing hard till she see’s the other woman shift under its pressure above her heart, their heart.

“I’d be giving up a part of mine as well, I just need a part of yours too.”

“Do you really think I’d do that? For you?”

“Yes” Regina swallows thickly, tears burning at the back of her eyes though she dare not shed a single one now. “I think you will, I know you will. You remember what love felt like with him. I know you want that back.”

“Love is weakness.” The Queen hisses, though her eyes betray her, a swirling of something Regina hopes, is well, hope. Robin loved them, both of them, equally, unequivocally, and intentionally.

“You know that’s not true.”

“It made you weak, his death was the last straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“That doesn’t make me weak.”

“Doesn’t it? You nearly destroyed yourself, destroyed me, all because of lost love. Haven’t we gone down this path before.”

“You weren’t there with Daniel.”

“Wasn’t I? Haven’t I always been with you Regina? Tucked away, locked up in a box you never intended on opening.”

Regina shakes her head, but the Queen smiles, knowing the truth in her words. “I know what love felt like, but I also know that it’s not worth the pain when you lose it.”

“He loved you, just as much as me.”

“No. He only loved you. I just sat beneath the surface like a good little pet while you played heroic housewife. He never loved the Evil Queen.”

“What about in the Enchanted Forest? He didn’t fall in love with me, that was all you. Hard headed, tempered, angry and lost.”

“We were still one person, he may have found interest in my presence, but it was the light side of you that pulled him in.”

“You know that’s not entirely true.”

“How? How could I possibly know that?”

“The night of the shattered curse, you came out, in full force, and he wanted to stay, to protect you. Not me. You.”

“No that’s —”

“It is true. Don’t deny it because you are being too stubborn to see the truth. He was never afraid of you, or of me.”

The Queen steps back, dropping her eyes from Regina’s that shine with tears, her own traitorously lining her lashes. It’s not the same. If she brings him back, Regina gets him. Not her. He won’t choose her. Won’t love her. Won’t want her. She’d be a bystander, forced to watch from the sidelines as her other half found the happiness they both craved with the same man.

“You said you loved him too.”

“I can’t.”

“If you help me, I promise I will help you in return.”

“You can’t help me, Regina. I’m the Evil Queen, destruction and revenge are all I know.”

“I don’t think that’s completely true.”

“Then you’re just fooling yourself.”

“Why else would you sit at his grave, in the middle of the night, laying a rose on his stone? Why, if you didn’t want him back just as terribly as I do, would you be there talking to him?”

“I–”

“You miss him.”

The Queen nods, stunned.

“I miss him too. And I need him back.”

“If I give up a part of my soul, I don’t know what happens to me. We are already split in two.”

“I know. But if it brings him back, isn’t it worth it?”

Regina’s heart pounds in her chest, rattling between her ribs as she watches the Queen search inside herself, battling between self preservation that has been her only companion, and the desperate longing of what might be. She freezes as the Queen’s heart pulses in purple electricity, slamming her fist into her own chest, catching a tight scream that Regina feels in her core, a ripping sensation that tugs low at her spine, shearing through tendon and muscle as it claws through her chest. A bright white ball produces in the Queen’s hand, a second in Regina’s. They both stare down at the swirling globe, light as a feather, opaque and warm.

“I thought mine would be darker.” The Queen muses, walking back towards Regina, extending the glowing ball out in front of her. “Take it, before I regret this.”

“Thank You.”

She turns, sweat pooling down her back as her hands shake holding the two tiny wrapped up spheres of their souls, humming in her palms with steady vibration.

“Regina.”

Her eyes cast back into the vault, to where the Queen has resumed sitting on the chest, the one where Robin had chosen her all those months ago, her hands wrapped tightly around her abdomen, as she licks her lips, huffing out a trembling breath.

“If you do it, if he comes back…”

“I promise I’ll bring him here.”

The Queen nods, toying with a curl of hair.

“I do love him.”

“I know. So do I.”

BTS Animal Series: Hoseok - Whatever Works

A/N: This lil bby is next in this BTS series!! I better start working on the next one quickly… I don’t even know who is next..

word count: 1,739

Yoongi   Jimin   Taehyung   Namjoon   Jin   Jungkook

Originally posted by btsbucketlist

Again, loud barking is heard from outside your door. At first you concluded it was your neighbor’s cute (but annoying) corgi. So you brushed it off, thinking she will shut up in a minute. Unfortunately, it began again, and now you sit on your couch groaning, pillows covering your ears, but the damn barking isn’t effected by the pillows.

“For fuck’s sake.” You mumble as you throw the pillows on the couch and hastily make your way to the door. It opens quickly as you turn the knob only to be knocked down by a giant mass of… Fur? A groan escapes your lips as your back hits the floor. The furball that attacked you whines, licking your cheeks to see if you are alright, though the dog is the one who caused it.

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