I even open the door for you

elise-logan asked:

My daughter, 10, is a huge fan, and when she found out you'd be in DC, she was over the moon. We got our tickets the day they went on sale - so here's the question. Doors open at 7:30, but do you have an idea - even vague - about when the show will end? We're trying to decide whether to drive in or Metro, so timing is an issue.

Y’know…I don’t actually know the answer to this. Can anybody who came to a west coast show let me know how late / long the shows tended to go?

Imagine: You get a call while in the middle of interviewing a victim, excusing yourself when your phone rings a second time. Spence says goodbye.

"Spence?" you answer your phone, curious as to why he is calling you, "I’m in the middle of talking to the victim, can I call you back?"

"Actually..I really need to talk to you.” You notice something different in Spencer’s voice, sad even, “It can’t wait.”

The softness in his voice is startling. So much so that you turn towards the sick woman you are interviewing, politely excusing yourself for a moment. You swing open the door, taking deep breaths as you walk calmly around the emergency room. 

"Are you okay?" you finally ask once you have reached the ladies room. You hear a brief pause on the other end of the line, as if he were searching for the right words to say. 

"I love you," he starts, "and I want you to know that these past three years have been the best years of my life." 

"Spencer.." you whisper, "you’re scaring me." 

"Don’t be scared." he attempts to reassure you, "you’ll be okay." 

"What’s going on? Where are you?" you demand, your mind naturally drifting to the worst possible scenario, "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" 

"Take care of yourself, alright? I gotta go."

"Spence wai-" you start, being cut off by the sound of the phone going dead at the other end of the line. You run your hands nervously through your hair as you dial another number. 

"Garcia, where is Spencer?" you ask before the analyst even has a chance to answer with some witty opener. 

"What’s wrong?" she responds, her tone immediately changing to a mix of worried and concerned. 

"He just called me…and it was like he was saying goodbye. Where is he?" 

"He’s with Morgan at Nichols’ house."

"Thank you, I’ll call you when I find out what’s going on." the words rush from your mouth as you find yourself running back towards the car. 


Once you arrive at the doctor’s house, your eyes immediately meet Morgan’s, who is now running towards you. Ignoring Morgan’s protests, you find yourself sprinting towards the door and tugging it open. 

Suddenly, you see him through the glass, your boyfriend, Spencer Reid.

"No no! Get back! Get back!" he yells frantically with wide eyes, swinging the door closed and locking himself in. 

 Finally it hits you as your eyes meet the broken vial of anthrax on the floor. 

"Spencer." your voice breaks as your heart drops.

"I’m sorry." he whispers.

B1A4 will have their day off suddenly interrupted when someone knocks on their door. Opening their door, they see two police officers. Before they even say anything, CNU bolts to his room. The boys ask the officers to wait a moment, going after CNU. “Why are you freaking out?”

CNU stops fidgeting behind his bed to answer. “You guys have to keep them out of here! They can’t find my operation!” The others, shocked, don’t ask any questions, opting to go and distract the cops at the door. Unfortunately, they had followed the boys into the room after being ditched at the door.

"We know you’re running this, kid!" they shout at CNU, who is still panicking near his bed. "We know your the grower here! We tracked you down when your sellers ratted you out!"

"You got nothin’ on me!" he shouts in return. "They wouldn’t squeal, I know it!"

The other boys, confused, ask the cops what CNU did wrong. “He’s been supplying all the sellers in this city with illegal leaf,” the officers explain. “He’s the kingpin.” The boys are utterly flabbergasted. They knew CNU was chill, but never that he would be the source of the chill. And he had been doing it right under their noses?

The cops shove CNU out of the way to get at his crop. “No,” he wails as he falls to the ground. “My organically grown, pesticide-free kale operation is finished! My empire!”

[Midorima/Akashi] 4 things you said when you thought I was asleep

Requested by i-am-absolute-nanodayo.


Midorima Shintarou was resting in the school infirmary. He had never been remotely close to the place until now; his body was a temple and he tended to it as such. But even a meticulous human as Midorima Shintarou fell prey to the summer heat and dehydration.

He resigned himself for a moment’s rest, far away from the bickering of his teammates and the stubborn sound of basketball balls being dribbled across the court.

When the sound of the infirmary doors sliding open threatened to disturb his peace, Midorima closed his eyes.

Steps approaching his bed were barely audible and Midorima wondered if he was being preyed on by a wild animal, a skilled hunter.

A sound of chair being placed next to the bed rose to Midorima’s ear but he remained silent and motionless.

“You have fainted, Shintarou. This isn’t like you,” Midorima recognized the voice by the chills it sent down his spine; those articulate, sublime words grasped him whole, made him listen every time.

Even as he felt weak, his defenses completely down, Midorima held back the urge to open his eyes.

That’s when Akashi’s hand slid over Midorima’s, his index finger slipping underneath Midorima’s pinkie.

Midorima’s other hand, the one that was hidden, twitched.

“Take better care of yourself,” Akashi continued to whisper. “What would I do without you?”

A year later at Winter Cup, Midorima learned exactly what Akashi could do without him.

Keep reading

It was her birthday. As I had been out of town for some weeks, we had been apart and were both keenly anticipating our reunion. I was to make her a birthday dinner and, of course, had many plans for our reacquaintance that night.

I arrived at her new house with two bags of groceries. She threw open the door and hugged me passionately before I could even set down the sacks. I laughed at the sight and sound of her joy; as always, her feelings touching me deeply.

"i missed You so much Master. It is wonderful to see You again." She showered my face and neck with kisses as she spoke.

I took her face in my hands, and looked into her eyes. “And I you, my jewel.” I kissed her deeply and held her tight. The purple silk dress she wore slid deliciously over her figure as I squeezed and I found myself hardening against her.

After a long time, but not long enough, I broke away. “I should start cooking or we will never eat.” I carried the bags into the kitchen and she followed, her high heels clicking on the oak flooring.

The following hour was spent cooking, talking, touching when we passed, and drinking a delightful Chardonnay. By the time the food was prepared, we were blushing from the wine, warm from our close proximity, and tingling with anticipation. Moving to the dining room, I found it beautifully prepared. A charmingly simple table with candles, two flowers, and crisp linen napkins on the bare table spoke of thought and style. The mirrored wall reflected our two bodies making it appear that there were more present, but there was only us.

I set the food down and we sat; me at the head of the table, she to the side—close. I leaned over and removed her cutlery. She looked quizzically at me. “You will not be needing these tonight.” I said. She smiled.

Taking my fork, I stabbed one of the buttered shrimp and moved it to her mouth. Looking into my eyes, she parted her lips and welcomed the food. Chewing, her eyes partly closed, “Delicious, Master”. I took a shrimp for myself and had to agree. The juicy morsel was perfectly seasoned and the sweet butter dripped fragrantly from each piece. Again, I offered a shrimp and she accepted, this time some butter escaping from her lips.

Before she could respond, I leaned in and gently licked it away. She moaned softly and smiled at me. We continued eating our appetizer in this manner. Slowly, wordlessly, each of us becoming more aroused as we ate. I began to suspect she was dribbling butter deliberately so that I would lick her lips. I could see her nipples, hard, through the silk of her dress. Her thighs, slightly parted, revealed soft flesh as the short dress rode up.

Some more wine between courses and, then, peppered pork tenderloin with linguini and artichoke hearts. I fed her and myself, and then we sat and were content in each other’s presence.

The meal had been delicious, the atmosphere exciting, and her presence intoxicating. I was aching to proceed to the games I had planned and could only imagine her degree of arousal. As always when I was away, she had not been permitted orgasm, but we had been exploring all kinds of different methods of arousal—and denial. I was sure, even after our food, that she was very hungry indeed.

"Your dessert will have to wait until later jewel. Mine, however, I will have now," I said and ordered her to stand. "As beautiful as you are in it, I would like you to remove your dress." It slid from her body, revealing, as I had suspected, her naked form.

Smooth, silken, soft and enticing, she stood before me. I took her hand and led her into the sitting room, standing her beneath the arch. Hands behind her back, feet apart, she waited smiling, as I retrieved our ‘bag of tricks’ from the bedroom.

Sliding the padded leather cuffs over her wrists and ankles, she sighed, inhaling the leather’s musk. “i have needed this Master.”

Spreading her arms and legs wide and securing them to the arch I replied, “Now you have a choice to make, my jewel. I trust that you are aroused just now, and I understand that it is your birthday.” I walked around her, admiring her body pulled taut and presented to me by the bonds.

"So, if you want to cum as I play with you tied like this, then you have my permission. However, you will only be allowed to cum once, although I will continue to use you for the rest of the night. If you can resist the urge to orgasm, then, my precious jewel, you will have my permission to climax as often as you wish tonight . And I promise, you will cum often indeed before the dawn."

She rolled her hips slightly and moaned. “Master, i want nothing more than to orgasm right now, and if You gave permission i would, with not a touch. But, i am Yours, and Your gift of a night of undenied pleasure is more exciting than i thought possible. Therefore, i will choose to withhold my orgasm until You untie me. i only hope I have the strength.”

I had hoped that she would elect to wait. I smiled, glad that she had and happy that I knew my jewel so well.

I slid the padded blindfold over her eyes—enhancing her other senses. I picked up a comb, designed for permed hair, and ran it over my palm, feeling its scratch.

Starting at her shoulder, I ran the comb in a long, straight line down over her buttock to the ankle straps of her shoes. Surprised, she gasped and arched her back away from the comb. I repeated the stroke further towards the center of her back. She arched again, but not so violently, expecting it now. Slowly, I dragged the comb down her back, her buttocks, and her legs from one side to the other and back again. With each stroke she arched away less and eventually began groaning and arching toward the comb. I moved further around her stretched body, scratching the comb over her sides and further, until I was standing facing her. She was breathing heavily, lips parted, head to one side.

"How does this feel, jewel?"

"Oh Sir, i’ve never felt that before. It’s like every nerve is firing and soooo sensitive to any stimulation at the same time. It’s driving me crazy—i love it!"

"I am glad you like it, jewel. I shall continue then."

I continue to run the comb down over her body— collar bone to foot. Scratching the skin lightly, over her breasts, her stomach, and her thighs. I ensured that I covered her inner thighs, but studiously avoided her mons.

By now every nerve in her skin was screaming for attention and her hips were rolling around subconsciously. She moaned quietly to herself whether I was touching her or not. I put down the comb.

Earlier I had placed some raspberry flavored oil on a candle warmer, and now I reached for the bowl.

"It’s time for my dessert now, jewel—but presentation is everything, so I must prepare."

"Oooh yes Master, please touch me. My skin is on fire. Please?"

Picking up the soft, fan-shaped art brush I had brought with me, I walked around my writhing sub. Coating the 3/4 inch brush in oil, I admired the sight before me, and chose my starting place.

Unable to see me, jewel keenly listened for my footsteps, trying to determine where I was, and when/if I was going to touch her. I moved to her side. Dipped and dabbed the brush, then placed it beneath her right arm and ran it down her side. jewel grunted - from the warmth, the feathery softness of the bristles, and the slippery oil. I continued painting the oil—replenishing the brush as I went—around onto her lower back. Then down between her buttocks, onto her inner thigh, spiraling around her leg towards her foot, stopping at the strap of her shoe. I stood and recommenced painting at the top of her buttocks, up and over her hip.

The warm oil added a sheen to her skin. Around and down, I trailed the brush along that sensitive line between abdomen and pelvis, straight towards her center. She arched towards me—head thrown back, pelvis thrust forward, panting. When I reached her mons proper, I stopped, recharged my brush, and continued painting around the gentle swell of her belly and in towards her navel.

Again, I replenished my brush and proceeded northward. Around her breast, spiraling inwards to the areola, and then the nipple—thoroughly coating the latter in the fragrant oil. On the other breast, I started on the nipple and spiraled outward around the breast and then up the middle of her chest, her neck, and onto her lips—painting her lips delicately with the oil.

"Just a taste, my pet, of what I will be savoring." I put down the bowl and brush, and walked around her, "Are you regretting your decision to hold back for later, my jewel? You know you can orgasm whenever you want, but that will be all for tonight—and perhaps for a long time." Standing close, in front of her, "But if you wait, my pet….aaaaah….you will cum and cum and cum—but you must wait and it is sooo hard, isn’t it? You must want to release soo badly by now."

Through ragged breaths, and nodding her blindfold head, she grunted her answer, “Nnng, sssssso v-v-very hard M-Master. B-b-but i’ll wait, Sir, please.”

Smiling, I moved to the side where I had commenced the oiling. Bending my head, I held my lips over her oiled skin for a moment, and then began to lick. Softly, lovingly, I tasted her skin, the oil, and her excitement at my touch. Down, over her buttocks, her thighs. She, pushing towards me, as far as her bonds allowed moaning, “Oh Sir,” over and over as the leather restraints creaked.

Slowly, I licked the oil from her hip, her belly . I tasted her navel, smelling her arousal, and then up around her breast to the nipple. Her moans becoming more strident as I centered on the nub—and then disappointment as I left it briefly for the other.

Sucking the second nipple, and then licking upwards— her neck, her jaw-line, and finally to her lips. Cleaning her mouth of the oil, brushing my lips along hers, I could feel her restraining herself from kissing me without permission. I broke contact and stood close but not touching — savoring my jewel’s submission, savoring our arousal, savoring the night.

Stepping back, I reassured her, “Almost time to untie you, my pet.” From our bag of toys I removed the nipple clamps with which my pet and I had first played. They were stronger than the others in our collection and quite painful. jewel could wear them only briefly, but when she did they increased her arousal dramatically without actually making her orgasm.

I approached the bound woman and stood very close again. Her breathing had calmed somewhat, but her body glowed with intense arousal. Gently, I rubbed the cold metal against the tips of both nipples. She gasped with surprise and stimulation — aware that I was touching her with clamps, but unsure which ones.

I opened the jaws, and slowly allowed them to close on both nipples simultaneously. As the pressure increased, jewel could tell which clamps I had selected, and she moaned in that delightful pleasure/pain tone. I released the clamps and, as gravity claimed them, jewel grunted as they pulled on her swollen nubs.

I reached up and placed the key to her bonds in her hand. Stepping backwards I removed my shirt and pants and sat on the dining chair in front of her.

"My jewel, I am naked, sitting before you. you have the key; you may unbuckle yourself, remove your blindfold, and come to me. However, should you drop the key or be unable to free yourself, I will assume you do not wish to accept my birthday gift, and I will resume playing with your body."

I watched as she manipulated the key. Although dexterously done, the clamps, her arousal, and her haste caused her some difficulty. Eventually she freed one hand, and I watched as she unbuckled her other hand and ankles. Each movement caused the clamps to swing and pull on her distended nipples, eliciting moans. Once free she stood upright and slowly removed her blindfold. Her eyes roamed over my body, lingering on my cock—purple and swollen with desire for her.

Finally she met my gaze and moved to stand in front of me, legs slightly parted. Her breathing was deep, her eyes hooded, lips moist.

"Master, i am untied. May i have Your permission to orgasm?"

"My jewel, I would love for you to orgasm. But I would like you to do it on my cock."

She breathed deeply, flinching slightly at the clamps’ movement.

"Then may i sit on Your cock please, Master?"

"Of course, my jewel. It is so hard and so swollen just for you."

She moaned a little at that, and straddled my legs. “Thank You, Sir.” Her hands on my shoulders, she slowly lowered herself. My cock head nudged against her swollen pussy lips, and then I was inside her. So hot and tight and wet, the sensation almost making me orgasm. She, taking a sudden deep breath in and releasing it in gasps as she held still, not daring to move without permission.

"Master, please may i give You my orgasm?"

I reached for the clamps and slowly released the pressure. “Yes, my jewel, you may cum for me.” As the blood returned to the tortured nubs, her head fell back and, without moving, she orgasmed. Her vaginal muscles clamped down and spasmed around me, fluttering against my manhood. She cried out unintelligibly, and then began to move her hips.

Small movements, but enough to carry her through to another climax. Moaning, crying out my name, gasping, she came again. She slowed and stopped.

"Master that was wonderful, thank You. But You did not cum, m’Lord. Please may i pleasure You?"

"Oh you will, jewel—we have barely begun."

She smiled. We stood, I led her to the bedroom, and she climbed onto the edge of the bed on hands and knees. Standing behind her, I cupped her swollen pussy with one hand and gently caressed her. With the other hand I took the anal bead wand from the bedside table. As I lubricated it in her juices, jewel moaned at the firm stimulation. I held the wand at the entrance to her ass and slowly increased the pressure. As she felt this, she moved back against me, trying for penetration. I held her back and continued slowly pushing.

Finally, the first bead popped through her asshole and she groaned with satisfaction. I continued the pressure and she moaned in anticipation, remembering the progressively increasing size of the beads. My other hand was still softly stroking her pussy mound - barely touching. One by one the beads popped into her rectum and jewel’s moans rose in pitch as she was filled. When only the wand handle remained protruding I let go of it, allowing her some time to feel the beads inside her and to yearn for their movement.

I hadn’t thought it possible, but her pussy was growing wetter and her sighs of pleasure became louder. My free hand softly rubbed the bead wand, transmitting the slightest vibration onto her sensitized anus. I flicked it and she gasped, rolling her hips toward the hand on her pussy. Again I flicked, over and over, each time keeping my hand barely touching her thrusting pussy mound. By now she was moaning and pleading for more stimulation.

"Don’t hold out now. Remember, jewel, you may come whenever you wish."

"Oh, but Master, i am not — i am so close — i need just a little more, please?"

With that I grasped the wand and began to pull it out. As each bead broached her anal ring, I would allow it to slip back inside slightly before finally extracting it. As each bead left her rectum, jewel would cry out, and my hand on her pussy could feel the spasms as her vagina contracted in orgasm.

Even when all the beads were removed, she continued to cry out intermittently as the aftershocks rippled through her, causing more, smaller orgasms. Finally she was done and she collapsed sideways on the bed, looking at me past half-closed lids. “Thank You, Master, oh thank You.”

"You are welcome, jewel. Would you like your dessert now?"

"Yes please, Master, i would."

"It will take a small period of time to prepare, so whilst I do that I would like you over here."

I indicated the kneeling apparatus I had built. She had been on it once before, and when she realized to what I was going to attach her, she smiled and growled with arousal.

Gingerly she lowered herself onto the vibrator attached atop the vertical pole. I had built this device to my sub’s specific measurements, so, when I separated her knees slightly and secured them to the forward cross bar she was deeply, deeply penetrated and quite unable to move up or down. I arranged the clitoral stimulator exactly on top of her pink nubbin. Quickly I strapped her ankles to the rear cross bar, buckled her wrists behind her back, and then secured the cuffs to the main bar of the apparatus beneath her crotch. She was helpless, penetrated, full, and immobile. I gazed at her in adoration. She gazed at me in pleasure and submission until I replaced the blindfold. “I will return.”

I rapidly assembled a plate bearing strawberries, whilst dark chocolate melted in a small bowl. I returned to the bedroom. My jewel was breathing heavily and very slightly rocking her hips backwards and forwards—about the only movement my apparatus afforded her and one that normally I would punish. Tonight, however, I was in a generous mood, and happy to see her stimulate herself.

I pulled a chair close in front of her and sat. She could smell the chocolate and the fresh tang of the strawberries. She licked her lips. I dipped a strawberry in the chocolate, gathered the drips on the fruit, and held the concoction an inch from her lips. Again she licked her lips, “please Sir, may i have Your dessert—it smells delicious.”

Smiling, I touched her lips with the fruit; she opened and devoured the sweet food.

"Mmmmm, gorgeous." she said. "May i have some more, Sir?" Again I fed her, until the bowl was empty.

"All gone, my pet," I said. She smiled.

"Master, may i finish my dessert by tasting Your cum? Please? It would be the perfect ending to the perfect meal."

My sub is a fellatio expert and the thought of her expert ministrations excited me immensely. Wordlessly, I leaned over and turned on the vibrator. Her head fell backwards and her back arched. “Yesssssssss!” she hissed.

I stood in front of her, my cock rock hard and purple as it had been most of the night. The head brushed her lips, and she opened her mouth and kissed my manhood. Slowly she engulfed me—her warmth and wetness arousing me still further. She withdrew, and licked me from base to tip, moaning as she did so.

"Can you taste yourself on my cock, jewel?" I asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her words.

"Oh yes, Master—and we taste sooo good. Oooooh Sir, i am so close…to cumming…again…" As she moaned in orgasm she took my cock deep into her throat and massaged me with her muscles. Humming and moaning and groaning, the vibrations transmitted to my cock drove me higher and higher. My hands stroked her hair and, as my hips started to buck fucking her mouth, I lightly held her head.

By now she was groaning and twitching continuously as orgasm after orgasm hit her. With her movement on the vibrator so restricted by her bonds, she was totally at the mercy of the device. She had told me before that such electrical apparatus gave her the willies due to their incessant, merciless nature; but I suspected that it also secretly excited her.

My excitement was reaching its peak. Her expert mouth, the stimulating memories of the evening, and the sight of my sub writhing in pleasure all served to push me over the edge. I groaned and my cock spasmed, spurting deep into jewel’s mouth. Again and again I filled her with my seed, and again and again she swallowed. As my orgasm subsided, she, still twitching and moaning, withdrew slightly and licked my softening cock clean.

I sat back down on the chair and looked at my beautiful sub. Wisps of hair had escaped their bonds and framed her face. The blindfold hid her eyes, but she looked where she felt I was. Her lips were moist, slightly parted and puffy from taking my cock. Her breasts were red and swollen, the nipples crinkled hard. The breath sighed in and out as she continued to orgasm over and over. Her stomach muscles fluttered, her pussy lips clenching the vibrator. In her helpless, debauched condition; in a state of pleasure and over-satiety; and in a mental zone of total subservience, she had never looked so desirable. I was proud, honored and amazed that this wonderful woman had gifted me with her submission and allowed me to become her Master.

I’m not even self destructive anymore. I don’t push anyone away unless it’s a rare instance where they intend me emotional or physical harm. I’m just like if you don’t like what I’m throwing down there’s a pair of propped open double doors right there. Feel free to drift away.

familiar faces. | elliot & jordan

   ”Elliot, be a sport and go to the store for me? I have paperwork to do,
       ——myeh myeh myeh.

Elliot was indeed mocking his girlfriend (correction; fiancee) under his breath. But honestly, who in their right mind sent someone out to the local corner store in the middle of the night when it was raining like the earth was ending? 

          Crazy people. That’s who. 

   ”If you want, I can even write you a list because apparently you can’t damn well remember
     a few items.

He continued to mock her as he pushed the glass door open, the little bell chiming to signal his entrance before pushing his hood back and ruffling his hair as he walked through the aisles, grabbing stuff as he went. It only took a few minutes to get each item. Much to Olivia’s assumptions, he did certainly not need a list to remember this and that; though he probably would forget something. 

But then he saw a flash of a face he would have recognized any where; it was a face that most definitely was out of place in the little store. And, for a brief moment, he wondered if he’d mistaken the woman that passed to the other aisle to be her. 

         He didn’t. 


coraleethroughthelookingglass asked:

I've got another prompt for you, if that's ok. Jaime/Brienne, costume party.

"Welcome mortals to th-"

"We did not coordinate, I swear."

Sansa stared at the two latecomers to her annual Halloween party, Brienne had cut her off before she’d even opened the door fully never mind finished her spooky opening line, then she tried not to laugh. Her best friend had transformed into a knight in plastic armour for the party, arms folded tightly over her chestplate as she tried not to look at the man next to her, the one who she claimed drove her insane but that Sansa knew she was secretly harbouring the warm and fuzzies for.

Jaime, in contrast to the knight, had donned the frilliest, pinkest dress he could find, a pointy cone maiden’s hat perched jauntily on his head. Catching Sansa’s eye with a wink he threw himself at Brienne in a swoon that had her struggling to catch him before he hit the floor. 

He batted his eyelashes at her and sighed, “my hero.”

She ground her teeth and dropped him.

economic-doctorate asked:

((Let's try again)) Adryanne punched open the door, having broken the lock when he kicked it, but deciding to be polite this time. "Pedrine, where are you, you didn't even touch the things I left for you."

"Because I do not need them, Doctor Money. Now please, leave me to my business."

anonymous asked:

OMG !!Love ur Haylor mini fic.I like it soOOOO much ..! Haylor 12 Plz ?

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep
note: thank you so much! this is short sorry


Taylor grasps the paper airplane necklace tighter in her hands, a giddy smile she can’t take off her face as she uses her friend hand to open up her hotel room door. Smiles even wider when she sees Harry splayed out against the couch, his eyes fluttered closed and his breathing even.

She bounces over towards him quietly, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. Taylor’s heart flutters as she watches him, she feels love fill her up and swish around all around her heart. 

Taylor kneels down next to the couch, her hands gently floating across his hair to test if Harry’s sleeping or just resting his eyes. When he doesn’t respond she flops down onto the floor, crossing her legs and pulling out her phone. She doesn’t want to wake him when he looks so peaceful. She responds to a few texts before averting her attention back on Harry again.

"I think I love you," Taylor whispers quietly as she watches him sleep. The words have been playing in her mind for the past few days on a loop. Maybe it’s too soon to think it but when you’re in love you just know. Britt had told her to not rush into things, to take her time, to go steady. But Taylor thinks she might be tired of that.

"Maybe, I don’t know." Taylor sighs, leaning her head back against the couch, hitting Harry’s legs. Her eyes flutter close as she thinks about it. It’s been three months that they’ve been officially dating for and even longer than that that they’ve had a fling for. Taylor lets her hands trace the necklace hanging from her neck, eyes still closed. 

"Would it be awful if I loved you so early on?" Taylor wonders aloud. It’s a faint mumble and Harry’s asleep but it still feels dangerous to be saying these words out loud. Taylor smiles, opening her eyes and looking over at where Harry’s sleeping - she loves him, she thinks.

"Alright, maybe I do." Taylor finishes giddily, pressing a kiss to his forehead before walking off towards the other end of the room to where her suitcase is lying to fish out a jumper. Harry opens his eyes, twists his body to watch her, grinning - he was just resting his eyes.

minenintedolp asked:

Galynn knocked on her pale's door, a bit worried about him, '"Mike? Can I please come in?"

=> Your name is Mike ,and you are ashamed to open that door. You can’t see your moirail after what you’ve done to Hunter. What will she say to you? Will she even bother being your pale? 

=> You don’t want to find out. Facing Galynn is going to be a challenge. But…she doesn’t deserve to be ignored.. 

=> With your hands shaking, you opened the door.

JS: Hey…uh…Galynn. Something wrong?

Not even kidding I’ve said this forever and will continue to but Josh should do Broadway. He’s an entertainer and he was a natural on SNL! I feel like he would be so good and Broadway isn’t where actors who can’t do films go, it’s a very prestigous crowd where some of the best actors in any medium work and once people respect you there, it can open up a lot of doors!

So, because we are having a relative heat wave this evening (28F, -2.5C), my thoroughly insane husband went outside and shoveled the FOOT of snow off the hot tub cover, opened it up, and is encouraging me to trudge through the foot of snow STILL on the deck between the back door and the hot tub to join him. That water better be damn hot!

If L&H remains unfinished forever, you will know I died of frostbite!


painting with words by iwillstillopenthewindow

i wanted to draw this long ago but i just wasn’t free sobs (exams then self wallowing and CF)

i am not kageyama so i can’t paint but i tried„

It’s ok to feel seriously not ok. The therapists I’ve had taught me to acknowledge those negative feelings, to honor them as part of where I am at the moment, but to not let myself become trapped in them. You have to carve open a door to hope without tearing down your whole emotional house. You have to find ways to survive without punishing yourself for struggling with survival.

my brain is fried. Have some fluffy mikeru