#olivercharlcs

      she’s lingering in one of the courtyards, book splayed open in her lap, apple clutched in one hand. it’s good to take a break in her opinion, and whenever she could she’d steal away to a small spot like this to look over spells and recipes for classes and homework. that, or reading whatever novel she managed to get her hands on at the time. however, the usual quiet is disturbed by footsteps and carter lifts her head, a smile finding its way onto her face as she takes a bite of her apple rather smugly, watching the gryffindor boy with glee.

      ‘ well, aren’t you a pleasant surprise. ’ she says. ‘ y’come to trash talk some more before the t’morrow or did y’just miss me? ’

aaaannnndd I’m crying

My babs

u know...... i left it v open ended. and i hinted at a ambulance 

❝  sarah ! no, no, no ! please don' leave, don' go we all need you, honey please 'ang on for me !  ❞ he sobs, calling out desperately for her to hold on while he awaits help. deep down he knows. he knows it's a pointless task. the scarf, screwed up and clenched in oliver's fist, is being pressed 'gainst the would and is growing heavier and heavier with blood. he sobs helplessly, watching as the life leaves her-leaving him with no choice but to comfort her and kiss her head and cradle her in his arms one last time.

     a long stare at the werewolf as jamie honestly debates it.  he has so many things he wants to talk about,  so many things still bottled up inside that he  refuses  to let out.

                                        he can’t.

                                                    even after all this time,  he still can’t.

    a pause.  a  blink.  jamie’s feet are propped up and rested on the coffee table square in the center of the apartment he and hayden share.  he’s leaned back,  sprawled out on their sofa,  attention on oliver  ( one of few  regular  guests the two vampires have these days ).  

    ‘ not that i’m takin’ her side  ——  but that  would  be pretty scary. ’  a sigh.  jamie doesn’t exactly have the best record when it comes to marriage  either,  but at least he and his late wife had loved each other until her last moments.

     he didn’t like to reflect on it.

First three in my inbox get kisses (1/3)@olivercharlcs

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sarah mumbled, tucking her face into TJ’s shoulder, trying to ignore the sound of the television that bled into the room. Sherlock Holmes was in the news, being praised for some case he’d solved, and Sarah had no want to ever hear or see that man again. She’d loved him, once, years ago, but now she cringed looking back at that time in her life, wishing she could just erase it entirely.