under the door

The snow fell softly on the streets of Hanamura. They were empty, the citizens at home with their families on Christmas eve. Only one person trudged through the snowfall.

Hanzo adjusted his scarf one handed, trying to cover up his mouth more and juggle the box he carried at the same time. Reflexes honed with years of training saved the box from winding up in a snowdrift, and he pressed on, breath hissing through his scarf and billowing up into clouds of fog.

Keep reading

Love Can Heal (Part 1)

 Pairing: Paul Lahote X Reader / Emmett Cullen X Ex!Reader

 Word count: 731


 I feel him before hearing his voice downstairs. I can tell his talking to my aunt, I just don’t know what’s about. Probably me. I put down the book I’m trying to read and look at the window. It was raining five minutes ago. He was gone until five minutes ago. I know I should feel happy, but I still feel lonely, miserable. And I don’t think Emmett can change it now.

 I see the shadow of his feet under my door, and I know he stopped to think. To think if he’ll open the door or leave again, forever this time. But Emmett opens the door quickly, looking straight at me. I’m still looking at his feet, but slowly I lift my eyes to meet his. He’s sad. Because of me. Because I look sick. So I turn my gaze back to the window. It’s warm here, but I’m wearing a heavy coat and a blanket. The silence kills me but I won’t break it. Not when he is the stranger in my room.


 I can close my eyes and pretend he never left. That he kept his promise and just came here with me or anything. But I’m done with pretending. I don’t have enough strength to pretend.


 “You…” His voice fades.

 “Me. What do you want?”

 “To see if… If you’re better.”

 A small laugh escapes from my lips, dry and arrogant. Better? When my parents burned to death because of my disobedience? When the one I loved left me? No. I don’t want to get better, I want to drown on my suffering.

 “I’m not better, as you can see.”

 “Ivy, you have to…” He starts and I get up quickly, letting my book fall to the ground.

 “I’ll take a shower,” I mutter and head to my bathroom.

 I turn on the lights and hear Emmett follow me. He was always stupid like this, following me to the bathroom without noticing. But now I just don’t care. I can see he’s looking around for a mirror, but he won’t find any. I turn my back to him and take my clothes off. He sighs. He’s sad again.

 “You’re skinnier.”

 “I know.”

 “Ivy, I can see your ribs!” The scream scares me and I jump a little.

 “I know.”

 Tears roll down my cheeks because I know he was expecting me to yell at him for disappearing, for following me to the bathroom, for anything. And it scares him that I don’t raise my voice.

 “Do you still love me?” I ask as I step into the hot water.

 “You know me, I wouldn’t come back after two years if I didn’t.” He comes closer to the shower to check my body. “You’re not eating properly, are you?”

 “I eat when I feel hungry.”

 “Ivy, I…”

 “Why are you here?” I speak before he can finish, as he steps inside the box. The glass is already blurry.

 “Leaving you didn’t help. I’ve been calling your aunt for a few months. We decided that may help spend time with the Cullen. Maybe until New Year.”

 “I don’t need help.”

 “Yes, you do. I won’t let you kill yourself.” Emmett takes my hand but I push him away.

 “You left me. You left me! You left me to die. No matter how or… or where you left me to die!” I try to scream but sounds like a whisper. I feel stupid, so I look at the white floor.

 “I thought it would help you. It destroys me to see you this way.”

 “Two years. Not two days. I turned eighteen last week. You were calling my aunt and couldn’t even tell me “happy birthday”.” My hands are shaking and my breath is heavy. I’m tired. Again.

 “I came here. I whispered to you in your sleep.”

 “I don’t want whispers.” I won’t admit I heard his voice in my sleep.

 “Come with me, Ivy.” He pulls me to him and I couldn’t stand my ground even if a wanted. He’s a vampire and I’m way too weak now.

 “So you can leave again?”

 “So I can help you heal yourself.”

 “I don’t wanna get healed.” I lay my head on his chest and close my eyes. I can sleep here. I need some sleep.

 “Yes, you do.” Emmett put his arms around me and everything goes black.


good cat sounds:
- “mrrrp?”
- that when cat tries to meow but only tiny “khh” comes out

good dog sounds:
- mildy alarmed boof
- that when dog is on other side of closed door and sniffs the gap under the door

Adrinette Month Day 5: Coffee Shop Au 

Back to working loosely haha I enjoy it far too much 8]

He didn’t know when she started sitting there, every morning at eight, with a cup of coffee in her hands. He only knew when he started remembering her. 

Sometimes she was with someone–a friend, he hoped–but most times, she was alone, sitting contentedly with her beverage, enjoying her own company. 

He never could quite muster up the courage to go up to her–what was he going to say? “Hey, I’ve been watching you drink coffee every morning as I walk to work, how’s it going?” Yeah, that’s not a bit creepy.

So one day, when it was down-pouring, and he went his way to work, believing fully that perhaps today, he might not get to see her, he was surprised to find he was wrong. There she was, wearing a bright red raincoat–but no umbrella.

And he finally found his chance.

  • chris: hey you two! come on this way and walk under this door frame with mistletoe under it!
  • viktor and yuuri: ok
  • phichit: *whispering into phone* ok u guys everything is going as planned if they don't kiss now we're dead
When Writing Spells

If you want to keep something close, bury it in your back yard.
If you want to attract something, bury it under the front door step.
If you want to destroy its influence, burn it.
If you want it to move away and sink, throw it in running water.
If you want to disperse it to a distance, throw it into a crossroads.
If you want to fix its influence, inter it in a five-spot pattern.
If you want it to work by means of spirits, bury it in a graveyard.
If you want to hide its point of origin, conceal it in a tree.
If you want it to work in secret, give it in food or drink.
If you want it to work by stealth, hide it in clothing or on objects.
If you want its influence to begin or strengthen, throw it East.
If you want its influence to end or weaken, throw it West.
If you want its influence to rise and fall cyclicly, float it in a tidal estuary.

Young Jonathan has been locked in his room for two years. Arguments through the walls and scraps left by random men connected him to the outside world. After an evening of screaming and ungodly noises last week, it has been quiet. A cookie has been slid under his door each morning since.

I like to think that Lance keeps track of every day that passes since the day they left Earth on a homemade calendar, and when it finally falls on Valentine’s Day, he wakes up super early and makes custom valentines for everyone on the ship and slides them under their doors for them to find when they get up for the day. When everyone meets in the control room that morning, the other paladins are smiling softly, and a little sadly, thinking of home while Lance explains what Valentine’s Day is back on Earth to Allura and Coran. They decide to take a day off and make meals together, appreciating their random but tight-knit new family. Everyone is happy.

Tomorrow AU
  • It’s midnight. Star is still wide awake. The fear she feels in her nightmares is terribly present for the first time in her life.
  • It’s a stupid idea. But she needs Glossaryck. She needs the spellbook. And most of all, she needs to get away from this dimension.
  • She has a spell to pack everything into a neat little bag, which she replaces her star purse with, and removes her room from the Diaz’s house. She doesn’t know how to fix the gaping hole in the wall though, so she just uses a massive amount of magical tape and leaves an apology on a sticky note.
  • She still has all of Janna’s makeup, and the foundation that Janna said was too light for her. She puts it on over her cheeks. She hopes it’ll help.
  • She tucks the note she tried so many times to perfect that night under Marco’s door, and gives it a final shove, her hand recoiling at the touch of the door.
  • She puts on the cloak that her mother had given her on her 12th birthday, saying it was a family heirloom made of the Unseen Threads that the Fates themselves use. It is only to be used when she needs to go into hiding. So, it was perfect for what she had to do.
  • Her sorrow and heartbreak are slowly turning to bitterness. That’s why Star needs to leave. 
  • She pads down the stairs, and remembers how just yesterday, she had fallen down the final step, uncaring of how she felt towards her best friend. At least, uncaring of what her strange feelings meant.
  • Star could never hate Jackie. She won’t blame her. Jackie is a wonderful girl, who’s cool, and pretty, and looks like the ocean. But she doesn’t want to see Jackie or Marco for a very long time.
  • Star passes by the kitchen, where she remembers how everyone lied about her cooking just to make her feel better. She wonders if she should let Janna, Ponyhead, and Starfan know where she’s going. She ultimately decides against it.
  • Her hair gets in front of her face as she swings down the stairs. She becomes irritated with it. Irrationally irritated.
  • She grips her dimensional scissors, swallows down an impulse, and walks towards the living room.
  • She tries to put her hair into a ponytail, but catches her reflection in the many photos of the foreign exchange students that have lived at Marco’s house. She sees her hair, the same as it was when she first got here. The same as it was when Marco befriended her and agreed she could stay. The same as it was when she and her fought together in every battle. The same as it was when she felt her heart shatter the day before.
  • Star grips her dimensional scissors even tighter.
  • She has to go back to Mewni. But her mother can’t know. Her father can’t know. No one can. She needs to get that spell book back from Ludo before anything else puts the people she loves in harm’s way.
  • She grabs her hair tightly and brings her scissors down on it, and feels a weight lift off her head, as if she had been released from a bondage she had never realized was even there. She looks at herself in the mirror, and feels hot tears rolls down her cheeks, which she quickly pats away before the foundation fades away.
  • Star uses a cleaning spell to get rid of the massive amount of hair on the floor, and just like that, she was someone else. She was no longer just Star Butterfly, a carefree magical princess from another dimension. She felt herself earning a title in this moment, like how her mother had when she had defeated Toffee once in battle. Her mother was Moon the Undaunted, her grandmother Eclipsa, Queen of Darkness, her great grandmother Solaria, the monster carver, and her great great grandmother, Celena the shy. But what would her title would be?
  • She shook off this thought. She opened up a portal to Mewni, and cast the only tracking spell she knew by memory. She stepped through, and the portal closed behind her. The Diaz house was silent still.
  • In a room where the Queens of Mewni have a tapestry of Fate woven for each of them, a new plaque rises from the ground. On it, words are carved on magically.

                                                  Star the Blazing

                           A heart of gold shines in the unending darkness 

                                 though forever shattered it may seem

                              And when it appeared all hope was lost

                         She rose like a star and earned the title, Queen.

high school: paper is due at the end of class. seems like a big assignment but your grade is pretty much locked in at whatever it is already. this one assignment is very unlikely to affect it but you’ll get great feedback anyway and the teacher will call you a good writer

college: paper is due 12pm in the professor’s office. the room is locked and you have to slide your folder in under the door. your grade depends on the alignment of the stars and whether or not you followed your professor on twitter. stay tuned and you’ll find out on christmas eve when your entire family can harass you about it

Context: I don’t remember the player classes because this was a while ago. I’m also not 100% sure on races, for the same reason. But neither of those are really significant to the story. (Also, it’s worth noting that this is only the gist of what happened because this particular D&D game was almost a year ago and I obviously can’t remember every quote) Anyways, my character had found a secret door under a river and was trying to unlock it. Earlier in the game, we had found a town and I managed to either abduct or use my charisma to charm many townspeople to join me, so I had a following of at least 7 NPCs. The rest of my party had moved on ahead while I messed with the door, and had found a field filled with monsters. One of the girls (player 1) got down to 1 HP because they were so dense and needed extra support. However, I believed there was something important that could help us behind the door, so I was going to keep trying to open it.

Player 1 OOC: oh my god I’m going to come over there and fight you just help! we need your townspeople

*She sent her character back to the town to heal up and then drag me back into battle*

Player 1 IC: Come on, we need you to help us.

Me: But there could be something behind the door, if I can just find a way to open it. It could help us get past all these monsters.

Player 1: The door won’t open. Just come with me and we can look at the door later.

*My character glares at hers.*

DM: Roll for charisma.

*nat 20*

DM: Your glare deals 1 damage.

Player 1 OOC: But I only had 1 HP!

DM: And you just lost it because of this really intense stare.

Don’t you get it? You will never find someone like her, ever again. She won’t take her lunch to work and school just so she can afford to buy you that video game you’ve been wanting all year. She won’t collapse on you and beg for back tickles in the cutest little voice. She won’t force you to take your medicine when you’re sick and let you lay on her boobs when you feel so ill you can’t even think. The new girl won’t care about you the way she does. She won’t wake up at 6 AM just to reply to your text message and wait for you to get off of work.

You won’t notice it at first, it will be a slow revelation, but trust me, when you do realise, it will be painful. It’ll be the kind of pain you have to swallow back at 2 PM, the kind of pain that keeps you up at night staring at the light coming under the bathroom door and guess what? The new girl won’t be worth it anymore, because she won’t be like her.

—  She won’t be like the girl you took for granted. 
Midnight Cookies - (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Originally posted by newtpotters

Newt hummed to himself softly, flicking the lights on in the small kitchen. Hearing his stomach rumble loudly, he patted it soothingly. “Don’t you worry, I’ll get you food…” He muttered absently, rifling through cabinets and shelves. “Bread… Berries… Crackers? No… Aha!” He pulled out the jar full of Christmas cookies that you and he had baked the day before. “She won’t notice if I only take a few.” He assured himself, glancing nervously towards the doorway. Taking the lid off the jar, he placed it precariously close to the edge. So close to the edge, in fact, that the lid toppled right off the counter and landed with a loud clank on the floor. “Bugger.”

You awoke with a start, clutching at the blankets that you were cocooned it. “Whassat?” You mumbled sleepily, looking at the faint glow of light that was coming in under your door. Curious, you swung out of bed and shuffled into a bathrobe and a pair of slippers, heading towards the kitchen. Drawing close to the room, you could hear someone moving around inside. “Newt?” You questioned, voice still thick with sleep.

“Erm.” Newt had his hand in the cookie jar, a guilty look on his blushing face.

“Newt!” You stood up straight, crossing your arms across your chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Looking at you like you were some sort of dangerous animal, he slowly put the cookie he was holding down and drew his hand out of the jar. “N-nothing?” He tried sheepishly.

“Mhm.” You harrumphed, “And I’m a bowtruckle.” You watched as he put the lid back on the jar and shoved it back onto a shelf, attempting to hide under his hair. “We just baked those yesterday, you can’t eat them now! Why were you even up, and eating, at two in the morning?”

Newt looked anywhere but you, wracking his mind for a suitable excuse. Unfortunately, his mouth was running slightly ahead of his brain, and he came out with, “I’m pregnant!”

There was dead silence in the room for about twenty seconds, the two of you simply staring at each other with blank faces. Then you practically doubled over, laughter wracking your body. Newt chuckled a little, a blush tinging his high cheekbones. “Yeah right.” You wheezed, eyes sparkling. “Come on, I’m going back to bed… And no cookies!” You turned to leave, still laughing a little.

“What should I eat then?” Newt asked, sounding suspiciously like a whiny little kid.

You turned in the doorway, leaning against it and shooting him a flirtatious look. “Me.” You winked, and disappeared around the corner.

Newt’s jaw practically hit the floor, and he had to get himself several glasses of cold water before he was sufficiently calmed down enough to go back to bed.

(Re: the clip of he watson’s flat in the parenthood video (x)) No, you’re not going mad, there certainly wasn’t a door under those stairs in John’s flat in ‘Many Happy Returns’. There was a dresser right up against the wall with the TV on:

(the picture of the fern is still in it’s place, though!) So, they’ve obviously gained a back garden and a back door since we last saw the flat.

in ‘His last vow’ here is the front door & the view through the kitchen to the living room:

To me the staircase looks different, much closer to the wall and to me it looks like the stairs change direction (behind John’s head in that last cap) much lower than in the parenthood video.

Has John been doing DIY in his spare time? ;)


With the sound of footsteps comes Kara’s shoes appearing under the stall door.

“I know you’re in here.”

And she wonders at that, how Kara can say something like that with absolute certainty, but it’s trampled by the thought of tucking her legs up so Kara can’t see her feet under the door, and then she has a vague memory of that scene in one of the Scream movies, where the killer hides in the stall like that, and it’s terrifying, thinking something is there and then it’s not and—. That’s irrelevant. She won’t do that to Kara.

Her feet stay planted on the worn tiles of the courthouse bathroom floor.

“Lena, I know you’re in there. And if you don’t want to come out, that’s okay.”

Which is good, because she’s going to stay in here until she’s ready to leave.

When Lena arrived that morning, dressed for a funeral with shoes that pinched to match, she’d marches to the front of the courtroom without meeting a single set of eyes on the way. It wasn’t until her mother’s lawyer had come to speak to her that she noticed Kara, corralled with the rest of the press at the back of the room, watching her carefully.

Keep reading

The senior wizards of Unseen University stood and looked at the door.
There was no doubt that however had shut it wanted it to stay shut. Dozens of nails secured it to the door frame. Planks had been nailed right across. And finally it had, up until this morning, been hidden by a bookcase that had been put in front of it.
“And there’s the sign, Ridcully,” said the Dean. “You have read it, I assume. You know? The sign which says ‘Do not, under any circumstances, open this door’?”
“Of course I’ve read it,” said Ridcully. “Why d’yer think I want it opened?”
“Er… why?” said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
“To see why they wanted it shut, of course.”*

*This exchange contains almost all you need to know about human civilization. At least, those bits of it that are now under the sea, fenced off or still smoking.

– on human civilization | Terry Pratchett, Hogfather

Miss Murder

It’s Murder season at UC National City, and Alex is determined to win.  A Sanvers college AU.


The rules are simple: there are no rules.  Actually, that’s a lie.  There are a couple rules.

Rule number one: You can’t murder someone inside a dorm room.  The halls are fair game, but as soon as you step into their room, that’s a safe zone.

Rule number two: You can’t murder someone in the dining hall.  There needs to be some public safe haven on campus and the dining hall is that.

And rule number three: You can’t murder someone if they’re naked.  No shower sneak-attacks, no skinny-dipping strikes.  Your victim must be fully clothed at the time of the murder.

Anything else is fair game.

If Alex Danvers hadn’t been awake trying to finish this godforsaken paper at four o’clock in the morning, she would have missed it: the swift patter of footsteps down the hall, a small rustling as an object is shoved under her door.

Alex pauses her music and looks down at the floor to find it: a single plastic knife.  Her face lights up in a grin.  This is it, her year.  This is the year she would finally beat her sister Kara at this stupid game.  She had a plan, a foolproof plan to be the last one standing.  And, for Christ’s sake, Kara doesn’t even drink alcohol so what was she going to do with the prized vodka that you win at the end of the game anyway?

No, Alex has a plan. Evade and evoke.  She would figure out who was her hitman early on.  She would lull her enemies into a false sense of security by making them think they were safe.  She would let everyone else make kill after kill, learning who they had, how many people were left.  And at the last possible moment, she would kill her victim and reap all the benefits. It was a flawless plan, a foolproof plan.  Nothing could possibly go wrong with this plan that she had spent the better part of the last year perfecting.

With a cocky smirk, Alex gets out of her desk chair and bends over at the door to grab her weapon and find out who the unlucky soul of her victim is.  She turns the small knife over in her hands to find a name written on it in sharpie.

Maggie Sawyer

“Fuck,” Alex curses.

Keep reading