if you want you can send me an ask and i'll give you my number or something

Voice Ask Meme!

I think hearing people’s voices is really cool, but I haven’t found a voice meme I’m happy with, so I wanted to make my own! 

Here’s how the game is played: If you want to hear me do any of these, just send me the number(s) you want to hear and I’ll make an audio post! Include whatever specifics you’d like to hear me do in the ask - these are more guidelines than actual rules. Basically, it’s just like any other ask meme, only I speak the answers instead of typing them out!

1) Give an introduction! 

  • Put specifics in the ask

2) Read a poem!

  • Feel free to specify a poem in the ask

3) Read a passage from your favorite book or fanfiction. Alternatively, do a one-person-show of a scene from a movie or play. 

  • Feel free to suggest a passage or scene in the ask. If you want me to do a dramatic reading of Green Eggs and Ham, I will. 

4) Tell a joke. (Preferably a really bad one)

5) Tell a story from your childhood. 

  • Feel free to suggest a story in the ask, like asking me about the first time I did x, y, or z!

6) Tell me about the most exciting thing you’ve ever done or would like to do. 

7)  Tell two truths and a lie, so that people have to guess which is true. 

8) Give an instructions on how to preform a task of the asker’s choosing. 

  • Example: If the ask says “teach me how to dougie,” you must give vocal instructions on how to dougie. 

9) Can you record yourself speaking in different languages/accents?

10) Sing a song, if you dare!

  • Feel free to suggest a song in the ask! (If I don’t know the song, I might sing you something else instead, but I promise it will still be worth your while.)

Feel free to reblog so more people can play!

And I'll Still be a Fool

Requested: “can you write an imagine based on the song just a little bit of your heart by ariana? :) love your writing by the way!”

A/N: So I said a while ago that I enjoy writing imagines based on songs and/or poems and things of that sort. So my next upcoming imagines will probably all be requested songs that you guys sent me! I might do a part 2 for this one but idk. Let me know y'all

I don’t feel the need to know who you’re with

Roses were always your favorite no matter how cliche it was. The petals were soft yet depending on the rose, sometimes they had thorns on the stem. Thorns that could make you bleed the same way love did. You normally hated poetry, and romantic comparisons or things of that sort, but the fact that roses were so beautiful yet sometimes so painful to touch, the same way love was, it was just interesting to you. And somehow someone knew this. Someone knew you liked roses, someone knew you enjoyed the sunset colored ones with the petals you’d rub your thumb against. For the past few months or so someone had been sending you roses every couple weesk. One week it was a huge bouquet of orangey pink petals with a note hidden behind the thorns that you always thought would say something but it never did. Usually just a heart would be drawn on the tiny piece of paper, and occasionally there’d be numbers written on the note, but you never know what it meant. They were long numbers usually, with no spaces in between. You thought this secret admirer of yours was sweet at first and you had kept some of the flowers in vases, but you tended to get tired of it considering they wouldn’t tell you who they were. Your friends had told you it was probably an old friend from high school, and that just irritated you even more. Either way it wouldn’t matter anyway because your heart was already taken.

A close friend of yours had mutual friends with someone who somehow ended up introducing you to Shawn Mendes, and you immediately fell in love just like the rest of the world did whenever they heard his voice. You felt a little pathetic for succumbing to the worlds way of falling for the same guy every other girl had fallen for, but you couldn’t help it. You understood easily why everyone drooled over him. It didn’t matter anyway, he seemed to be preoccupied with his music or other girls which was understandable. You had surprisingly talked to him often, snapchatting and texting small talk. He was a friend, and you hated it. You wanted to be more than friends. You tried not to flirt a lot, you never asked him about his past girlfriends, and you tried not to talk too much about where he went on those lonely Friday nights at 3am after an award show or something. You secretly cared and you always wished he’d come to you whenever he was looking for a little extra attention on those nights, but he never did. You figured because of the fact that you didn’t talk to him about those things, maybe he would like you, maybe he’d seem excited about the fact that he was talking to a girl who didn’t only care about how good he was in bed, or how much money he was making. You assumed most girls only cared about those things, but you didn’t. And you tried your hardest to make it appear that way, and you tried hard to show that you cared for him. But apparently he wasn’t getting that message, and it continued to break your heart, so you-not even caring anymore at this point- threw away another bouquet of roses that you wished were from Shawn.

Just a little bit of your heart, is all I want

“Yeah, they’re all freaking out because I haven’t posted a picture or anything, it’s kinda funny.” Shawn laughed lightly as he told you about his new tattoo that his fans felt teased by since he hadn’t posted about it. He was right about his fans, and you remember seeing plenty of comments and tweets talking about how much of a tease Shawn was. It was all true, and you wished it wasn’t. There were so many times you wondered if Shawn was flirting with you, and he’d give you tiny bits of what it was like to be with him, only to rip it away from you by taking two days to respond to a simple text, or not talking to you with the same tone. He really was a tease and it drove you crazy. You were currently wrapped up in your thoughts as you looked out the window next to you, watching the busy lives of strangers on the street. You wondered who else was going through what you felt, who else had such strong feelings for someone who didn’t feel the same. The day had taken an unexpected turn and you ended up walking into this fancy restaurant for dinner after work because you felt like you deserved it. It was the weekend after all so why not? You had posted about it on Twitter or something and almost two minutes later Shawn favorited your tweet, and texted you saying he was in that area. So here he was now, sitting across from you with food in front of him. You wanted to call this a date, but of course you didn’t and you assumed it was just a friendly dinner with a good friend. That’s what adults do all the time right? He was chewing on his finger, and that button up dress shirt he was wearing complimented his hazel eyes, along with those curls of his that needed to be cut. You scratched the back of your neck and forced yourself to stop looking at him and to finish your food.

“You okay? Do you not like your food? You can have some of mine if you want or something.” He caught you off guard and his voice melted in you ears like honey being poured into a sweet cup of tea.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I like my food, I’m okay! Thank you though.” You smiled at his kindness to share with you and you shoved some more of your food into your mouth. You really did like what was on your plate, you just found yourself struggling to concentrate on anything when Shawn Mendes was sitting in front of you. You don’t remember being so flustered just by being with him. You’ve been friends with him for some time now and you had talked to him millions of times without getting this nervous. Your feelings were blooming like flowers in the spring, and you wished so badly you could reach across the table to grab him. Grab his face, and kiss him. Grab his chest, to feel his heartbeat. The insides of his heart were most likely just as beautiful as his face. You knew him, and you knew his personality was amazing but you didn’t know him enough, and all you wanted was just even a tiny piece of his heart to learn about. What does he think about when he can’t sleep? Who does he think about the most? His family? His friends? His fans? Himself? Another girl? You chewed on your now cold food and continued to wonder these things, and think these thoughts as he kept talking about who knows what now. You weren’t even listening anymore.

I heard a little love, is better than none

Wind blew around your hair as you walked up to your house, and right as you placed your foot on the step to your door, you almost completely crushed a single rose with your shoe. If you didn’t love flowers so much you wouldn’t have stopped yourself and you would’ve stomped all over the damn rose until it was in pieces. Although you were head over heels for someone else, it was still a little sweet to you that this other stranger was still sending you flowers. But today, you were going to end it. You picked up the rose and walked into your house, placing it on the kitchen table. You pulled out your phone and went to Twitter, you figured this secret admirer of yours was following you ( or so you hoped ) so why not post about this, and ask them to stop sending you roses? You started typing but from the corner of your eye, something caught your attention. You hadn’t even noticed before but there was a small note attached to the stem of the rose like usual, but this time it wasn’t just a heart or some numbers. There were actual words written on the small piece of paper. You almost dropped your phone, picking up the note and tearing it off the little string tied around the stem.

“Don’t forget me, and I won’t forget you.” 6317

What the hell is that supposed to mean?? Next to the one sentence there were numbers written. No lines, no dashes. You re read the sentence and stared at the number trying to figure out what kind of game this person was playing. You looked at the numbers one more time before realizing what the date was today. It was June 4th, 2017, and yesterday was June 3rd. 6/3/17 was yesterday. Right? The numbers had to be a date, what else could it be? You were confused and frustrated either way, so you decided to finish your tweet.

“If you’re sending me roses, please either tell me who you are or just stop. Its very nice of you, but this game is getting tiring.”

You hit send and the tweet was officially posted to everyone. You hung the note on your fridge, hoping maybe you could eventually tell who’s hand writing it was. It was sloppy cursive, that you could barely read at first. You didn’t know anyone who wrote like that, did you? You tried to forget about it and see if anyone responded to your tweet. You figured you’d wait to see if you received anymore roses this week or the next. So you ended your day by placing that red rose into a vase near your window, admiring it as much as your secret admirer admired you.

And I’ll still be a fool for you

The sun woke you, as you turned over to get more comfortable, your bed was always your favorite place to be. But now the sun was keeping you awake and so you reached to your nightstand grabbing your phone, to do the daily social media check. You scrolled through Instagram, Snapchat, and finally Twitter. You scrolled through people tweeting about Shawn’s upcoming tour which saddened you a little to know that he was going to be leaving soon. You guessed it didn’t really matter anyway though right? Without even thinking about it you clicked on Shawn’s Twitter account, just to see what he was up to. He hasn’t texted you or talked to you since you two had lunch the other day. You scrolled down, to see his most recent tweet and you almost dropped your phone on your face.

“Don’t forget me, and I won’t forget you.”

He literally tweeted the same thing that was written on your note. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, looking at the tweet again. People tweeted him back asking him if that was a new song lyric or something and you just sat there, eyes wide. The stranger sending you roses couldn’t have been Shawn, there was no way. Maybe he just found the same quote your secret admirer found. Your brain was tired but you slowly were trying to put the pieces together. And so you ran down stairs to the trash can in the kitchen looking for more notes with numbers on them. After digging through mini pizza boxes and used tissues, you pulled out two notes from several weeks back. One note had the numbers 52217. May 22nd 2017. May 22nd, was the day Shawn came over to play you an idea he had for a song. You remember this because you pretty much marked in your calendar whenever you spent time with him, but if you were so in love with him how could you be so blind? The other note you found read the numbers 43017. April 30th 2017.. What happened April 30th? You pulled out your phone and looked at your calendar to see if there were any events marked, and of course there was. April 30th was one of Shawn’s shows you attended, and you brought him roses, you were starting to remember now because he used the roses to give out to some fans after the show, and you thought it was so sweet, you weren’t even angry that he got rid of your roses. Roses.

Reality was hitting you hard, and it all made sense now. Shawn had remembered these days just like you did. It was Saturday morning, 8am and Shawn was probably already on his plane to who knows where, you couldn’t even remember where his tour was starting. You texted him a couple times and called, but there was no reply. You stared at the notes on the table in front of you wondering how you were going to handle this. This whole time you thought you knew but you really had no idea. You wondered if Shawn felt angry at you now for your tweet, or if he felt bad. You didn’t know but either way there was one thing you did know, and that was that no matter how far away Shawn was from you, you’d never forget him, and no matter how many roses you threw away, your heart would still belong to him, and it probably always would.

mydeerfriend  asked:

I'll take a number 9 please ;) Because I'm here for Teenager!Claire&Jamie on their first date :D Making out. In the cinema. Awkwardly.

This is a part of a series of ficlets I’m writing in answer to THIS post. Enjoy!

Shout out to my home girl @outlandishchridhe for helping me make this awkward kiss as awkward as possible.


I’m nervous. So nervous. Way more nervous than when I’d tried out for the drama club. I’d only done that to try and win a date with Kevin O’Hara, but he’d asked Kitty MacNeal to the dance instead.

I’m in front of the cinema where Uncle Lamb had dropped me off. He’d given me a stern reminder that ‘no means no’ and ‘you tell him to keep his large Scottish hands off you’

That’s right. I forgot to mention. After Kevin had asked out Kitty and I dropped out of drama club, I’d been approached by the most beautiful and intimidating boys in my year. 

James. Fraser.

I don’t think I’ve stopped squeaking. But, here I am at the cinema waiting for him for our… date. I’m a little early, sort of on purpose. Uncle Lamb is notoriously late everywhere, so I gave him the wrong time so I’d get there at the right time.

“Hello, Sassenach.”

My whole body tingles at two words. Something about his deep, Scottish burr just… gets me. I turn around, already feeling my cheeks burn with a blush. That’s the downside of , what my Uncle calls, my glass face. I blush furiously at the drop of a hat and can’t lie for my life.

“H-hi, James.”

“God, please. Only my mam calls me James, and only when she’s verra cross wi’ me. Call me Jamie.”

“Alright, J-Jamie.”

Then he gives me that smirk that sends every girl in school into a swoon. I refuse to let him have that effect on me, but I still feel my legs wobble.

“If I’d kent ye’d got here early, I would have come sooner. My apologies.”

“Oh it’s no problem. You don’t know my uncle. It’s a small miracle I’m here.”

“Are ye ready then?”

Nodding, I follow him into the cinema. He insists that he pay for my ticket, so I spring for popcorn. We take our seats and I can feel the warmth of him. The film begins to roll and I stare studiously ahead. All I want to do is stare at him, at the red curling hair, the fathomless blue eyes. I wasn’t kidding when I said he was beautiful. 

I lean over to take a sip of my drink when suddenly Jamie is falling into me. I yelp, only to be hushed by other movie-goers. I’m staring at Jamie, mouth open in complete shock. Had he just fallen over in his seat? I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he might be blushing worse than I was.

The film continues on for a little while until I notice Jamie staring at me. I turn to ask him if there’s something on my face or in my hair, but I can’t. His mouth is on mine, warm and soft and sweet. 

Oh… My… God…

I’M BEING KISSED BY JAMES FRASER!

I do what any girl in my position would do. I turn more towards him and pull myself closer. An orphaned English girl like me doesn’t get the opportunity to kiss the most handsome boy in Scotland very often.

I’ve never actually kissed a boy before, but I’ve read books. That’s all Uncle Lamb has, really. Books. I remember one book where the woman, who’s secret lover had come to her under the cover of darkness, nibbled on the man’s lip. Not biting, as I understood it, but nibbling. That can’t be too difficult.

I open my mouth a little, trying to think just how I was supposed to get a hold of his lip. Right as I get his full bottom lip between my teeth, something else happens. His tongue is suddenly inside my mouth, unexpected and incredibly awkward. In my surprise, I bit down harder than I’d meant. 

Jamie yelps this time and pulls back, hand on his mouth. My hand is on my mouth too, staring up at him in shock and horror.

“Jamie, I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry!”

He doesn’t say anything and we finish the film in the most awkward of silences. When we leave, I pull my cell out to call Uncle Lamb to get picked up. Jamie’s hand catches mine and I stare up at him, desperately trying to resist the urge to cry.

“I’ve kissed a few lassies before,” he said slowly.

I hope his tongue doesn’t hurt too much…

“And this was the worst. Please, I don’t need you to say it.”

“I wouldna say that, Sassenach. It was certainly the most memorable. But… If ye wouldna mind it, perhaps we could practice.”

I frown at him, waiting for the punchline or hidden camera to be revealed. Surely James Fraser isn’t be interested in a girl like Claire Beauchamp. 

“Practice?”

“The kissing, aye? I think ye’ve got the potential to be quite good.”

“You… want to kiss me? Again?!”

“Aye, I would. Come out wi’ me next Friday? We’ll see if we canna make a good kisser out of you.”

I’m blinking, his words finally starting to sink in. 

“I-”

“CLAIRE!”

Uncle Lamb arrives just at the wrong time.

“Well?” Jamie asks, anxiously I thought.

“Sure?”

Then he unlocks his full smile, the one that sends girls to see the nurse at school. He knows it’s a nuclear weapon and doesn’t let it out much. But he does right now, when I agree to see him again. And then he’s grabbing me, pulling me up to him. Our teeth clack together, sending shots of pain into my mouth. But his lips are soft and warm.

“Then I’ll see ye tomorrow, Sassenach.”

Before Uncle Lamb can get out of the car and beat him, Jamie turns and runs away. 

“But…” I begin. “Tomorrow’s Saturday…”

megansarah11  asked:

56 klaroline

Omg, this prompt is so me! But I have accepted that hugs are sometimes unavoidable and so should Klaus.

KC + “I don’t do hugs.”


Caroline wasn’t easily surprised, but at nine years old, Klaus had managed to do just that. And unbeknowest to himself, he had thereby made himself a challenge that Caroline was determined to win.

It was at Rebekah’s eight birthday party. Klaus and Caroline had snuck back to the bouncy castle, long after Esther had ordered everyone inside. While they had the castle for themselves, jumping around and trying to get each other to trip, they fell on the airfilled matrass.

“Rebekah is going to be so mad when she hears we snuck out without her,” Caroline giggled and looked up at the sky. She was trying to find shapes in the clouds but only noticed big blots of white.

“She’ll have the whole castle for herself when all of you are gone,” Klaus shrugged. “Only fair if we got it for a while as well.”

“Well thanks for taking me with you.”

“You were following me. I couldn’t send you back and have you tell everyone where I was,” he explained.

Caroline shook her head, “Liar,” she muttered. “You like having me around. Just admit we’re friends.”

Klaus got up and started moving around the castle, “Maybe a little,” he conceded. He held out his hand for Caroline to take and together they climbed out of the bouncy house.

Back on the grass, Caroline turned to him. “Well, you’re my friend,” she stated and moved in for a hug.

Klaus jumped away before she could get her arms wrapped around him, “What are you doing?” he asked in panic, trying to get distance between the two of them.

“I’m trying to hug you,” Caroline explained, “It’s what friends do.”

“I don’t do hugs,” Klaus said, walking away from Caroline and leaving her alone in the Mikaelson backyard.

“But everyone likes hugs,” Caroline muttered confused, watching Klaus leave her on her own. It was then and there that the young girl decided she would get Klaus to like hugs as well.

-

The next years were followed with Caroline trying to hug Klaus goodbye when she visited the Mikaelsons, sneaking up on him, and asking for a hug on her birthday. Klaus always managed to evade or refuse her though, to her great disappointment and his siblings great amusement.

When Caroline turned thirteen, she accepted that getting a hug out of Klaus Mikaelson would be as impossible as expecting an unicorn for her birthday. She didn’t give up on her goal, but she decided she shouldn’t be as obvious with her attempts as she used to be. 

-

The next year, Klaus got his first girlfriend. Caroline never bothered to learn the girl’s name, she wasn’t around for long, but whenever she was around, she watched them as a hawk. Never, not even once, did Klaus hug his girlfriend not even when she left, or when they kissed.

She didn’t understand how he could have a girlfriend without ever sharing a hug with her, but a part of her was glad that the girl hadn’t succeeded where she had failed. Getting Klaus to like hugs had been a goal of hers for too many years to just give up now.

After some curiosity, she decided to just ask Klaus. “Why don’t you ever hug your girlfriend?”

He laughed and shook his head, “Still puzzling that one out?” he said and shrugged. “I don’t do hugs. It’s that easy,” he stated.

“Bullshit,” she muttered and walked off. There was something fundementally wrong with Klaus Mikaelson if he could pretend to hate hugs.

-

When she grew older, Caroline became more aware of her surroundings. Things that had snuck past her as a kid, became clear for her. Klaus’ hugging issues however? That one was still a mystery.

She did pick up on one thing. Neither Esther nor Mikael ever hugged their kids. She tried to pick her mind to their youth, to see if they had ever done so when they were younger but even when she saw them with Henrik, they didn’t did more to the boy than pick him up. Maybe it was a family infliction?

But that couldn’t be right either. Rebekah and her hugged all the time. Henrik had sat down to cuddle against her just yesterday, when she was over for a movie. And Kol? Kol was the opposite of Klaus, springing hugs on her whenever he saw her. She was fairly sure that was her own fault since he grew up, seeing her attempt the same to his brother.

No… One possible reason that Klaus thought he didn’t like hugs was simply too sad to consider before. What if he never was hugged? But than… she had offered and he had still refused her action.. And what about his siblings?. Maybe, just maybe she needed to let her obsession with Klaus and his lack of hugs rest. He was no longer a little boy, surely he knew best.

But still, Caroline couldn’t let it fully go.

-

When Rebekah turned eighteen, Klaus, Kol, Bonnie, Rebekah, Matt and Caroline snuck into the woods. They had all sneaked a bottle of booze with them, to properly celebrate Rebekah becoming an adult. Because as Kol kept reminding Rebekah, they were British and the drinking age is eighteen over there, so it’s totally legal for them. Caroline was sure that her mother wouldn’t see it that way, but it wasn’t like it was the first time they drank underage.

Soon after they reached the woods, the couples went looking for their own private places, leaving Caroline and Klaus on their own with their bottles of wine.

“We should have seen this coming,” Caroline laughed while she watched Kol and Rebekah discuss who of the two could take which part of the woods with their SO.

“You can always call your boyfriend, so you can find some privacy on your own,” Klaus offered. “You don’t need to stay with me, if you don’t want to.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “What boyfriend? I ended that weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Klaus apologized, looking away from Caroline for a moment. She couldn’t see the expression on his face but she imagined it didn’t look sad.

“Why? I’m not,” she laughed and threw a blanket on the ground. “I mean it was fun at first, but we outgrew each other. Better to break it off and find someone that’s right for you, right?” Caroline asked, looking at Klaus while she sat down on the blanket. 

“Right,” he nodded. He sat next to Caroline. He opened the first bottle of wine and gave it to her. She immediately poured two paper cups to the brink before she handed one to Klaus. The moment felt strangely like a date. The two of them, in the woods, on a blanket with the bottles of wine? It was like something out of her romantic movies.

“Cheers,” she said before she emptied half the cup in one gulp, trying to get the thought out of her head. Of course this wasn’t a date. Klaus didn’t think of her like that. “Okay so what about you?” she wondered. starting conversation. “How have you been doing, now that you’re away on college.”

“Same as always, I suspect. Just not in Mystic Falls, which trust me, is a vast improvement.” There was just one thing that Mystic Falls had, that held his interest. But lucky for him, she would move to the same college in mere months as well.

“So no new relationships?” Caroline tried, looking away when Klaus glanced back at her.

“Nope.”

“It’s the hugging thing, isn’t it?” she joked. “Couldn’t find a girl above the age of fifteen, that was okay with never hugging?

“If I remember correctly, you weren’t okay with that at the age of fifteen either,” Klaus countered. Remembering all the times she would sneak up on him and he would jump away just before she could reach him. He had always been aware when she was nearby. Even then.

“Nope,” Caroline agreed, popping her p, “But then you’ve never tried to date me, so I don’t count.”

“You just never noticed,” Klaus disagreed..

She looked up in shock, downing the rest of her wine before she spoke. “I- I would have noticed that.” Surely he was joking. There was no way she had missed Klaus wanting to date her.

“You sure?” Klaus challenged, “I didn’t think you noticed anything about me, besides if I did or didn’t hug someone. Which is fine, it worked. It gave me a way to get your attention.”

Caroline gasped at that, “You played me!” She hit him in the arm, “Are you telling me you like hugs now?”

“Well I don’t particularly like them… but sure I’ve hugged my fair share of people when I couldn’t avoid it.”

“But you were nine when you said you didn’t like hugs… Surely you couldn’t have planned this for ten years!” She stared at him in disbelieve. Had she just totally underestimated the criminal mastermind Klaus really was?

Klaus laughed at that, “Caroline, I was nine! I thought girls were disgusting and hugs were just a way they gave you cooties. I wouldn’t even touch my own sister!”

“And all those years I tried to hug you after? You were hugging other people in secret, but still avoiding me?”

“Well I still didn’t enjoy hugs, so if I could avoid them… I did. And after a while, well it felt like it became our thing,” Klaus admitted. “Besides, it looked like you had let it go the past years, so I didn’t think to bring it up.”

“Omg! I can’t believe this. You know that you owe we a hug now, right?” Caroline narrowed her eyes at him and moved closer to him.

Before she could wrap her arms around Klaus neck, his lips found hers. She gasped in surprise and leaned into him. She stilled for a moment until she wrapped her arms around Klaus neck, moving him closer to her. Her lips moved against his for a few more seconds before she broke the kiss. 

“So…” she said, with Klaus still enveloped in her hug, “You still hate hugs?” she teased.

Klaus laughed and kissed her on the nose, “I suppose I could get used to them… for you.”

She accepted that. For now. But she was determined to give Klaus many more hugs to change his mind. She considered that for a moment. And kisses, the kiss was nice too.


And so Caroline finally got her hug ;) Also I even inserted a tiny Henrik mention for you! 

If you want me to write another prompt, take a look here and send me the number and ship!

ii. Hey Angel

   Based on this request:

       Can u do one where the readers best guy friend calls her a pet name and she doesn’t do anything and harry gets mad because she’s said that harry isn’t allowed to call her that before? Please and thank you 😊          

Hope you like it, darling! And to everyone: requests are open and you can send whatever you want, I’ll get to it as soon as I can!

Another thing: i’ll write a second part of this. I’m thinking of a make up sex kind of blurb but i didn’t wanted to make you wait a lot for your request so i figured it was best if i made the story in two parts. I’ll try to post it before NYE! Hope you enjoy this!


You were ‘darling’ on the day to day. ‘Honey’, when he lost something or he was already late to work but he couldn’t find the energy to go. ‘Petal’, when you were cooking, when you were dancing with no music on, when nobody was watching, when nobody was listening but the two of you. ‘Love’, when he was between your legs, kissing your tights and making you feel the small hairs on his chin leaving marks on your sensitive skin; ‘love’ when he first got a taste of your core, lapping the juices with his tongue, letting the sweetness blind his senses; ‘love’, when he was pounding into you, grabbing your hips with a strong grip, too lost in his lust and his love for you to stop, but you didn’t wanted to, you wanted him to leave bruises on you—serving as a reminder that you were his; ‘love’, whispered to your ear between heavenly moans and groans that announced he was close, oh so close, and you were hugging him just right, making you fist the sheets, mark his back with your nails, scream and lose yourself to a feeling that was bigger than the two of you, bigger than the world.

But never angel. Ever. No chance.


 

Keep reading

@fitzsimmons616: Could you do 39, please? Fitz to Jemma post Framework.

+

@myownwoorld: Hi, can you please make one with 39, make it as angsty as you like…. I like to suffer :)

You guys happen to ask for the same one, so here it is! Because of how much angst the show has, I for some reason have a hard time writing a lot of it. But, but your request has been answered as best as I can.

39: “How can you even look at me?” 


Leopold James Fitz had never had a bad bone in his body. Jemma knew him as the man who loved monkey’s, the man who cried during sad movies, who hated horror films, and who ogled at any precious child that crossed his path.

Jemma knew Fitz as the man who sacrificed his life countless of times for any and everyone on the team, especially her. He was the man who put his own personal feelings aside and helped her save a man he knew was a threat to their relationship, without her even having to ask. He was the man who accepted the Inhumans before anyone else. The man who refused to accept Ward was evil, despite the evidence laid out in front of him.

The man that crossed the stars for her. The man who would have jumped off a plane for her. The man who drowned for her.

The man who felt bad if ever harming anyone, and if he ever had to kill someone out of self-protection he had nightmares for weeks after.

She knew him as the man she loved with all her heart, with every fiber in her being, her soul intertangled with his for all eternity.

This very man was standing right in front of her, staring at her with his normally warm, soulful eyes – now cold and empty. It was like he didn’t have any emotion left, his gun pointed to her temple, his expression never changing from anything by fury. She could see the hate in his eyes and it was crippling Jemma, slowly. He had never once looked at her with so much hatred – it was a look kept only for Ward himself, if even him.

“Fitz, it’s me. Please.”

Then, his stern expression faltered. “Who are you?” he asks so quietly she could hardly hear him.

Jemma eyed the barrel of the gun, then back at Fitz. “You know the answer to that, Fitz.”

He blinked, his heart heavy. She could see him. Her Fitz. “You say my name like…”

She smirks, just slightly, tears building up in her eyes. “Like it’s my favorite word?”

He stared her down, the gun in his hand no longer even relevant to him. His brow scrunched together and his free hand pinched the bridge of his nose. “Like I hear you say it all the time.”

“That’s because you do, Fitz.”

He looked back up at her, his gun slowly lowering to the ground. “Why can’t I shoot you?”

Jemma smiled for the first time in weeks. She pushed his gun to angle to the ground and stepped closer to him, placing her hand on the side of his face. “AIDA can program you however she likes, but Leopold Fitz would never hurt me, not in any life.”

His eyes were cloudy, but that crystal blue was shining through. “How can you look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a good person. Like I deserve to be…” he trailed off, his eyes darting to the ground. The Doctor wasn’t a man without a heart, he was a man who had been forced to pretend he never had one.

“Because the Fitz I know is.”

His eyes searched hers, his eyelids pooling with tears. Emotions started overwhelming him, and a sob came out of his mouth as he said, “Jemma?”

She enveloped him into her arms, his head on her shoulder, tears running down her back. She placed a hand on the back of his neck and held him, whispering soothing words in his ear. “I’m here, Fitz, it’s me. I’m here.”


Director Mace’s funeral was today.

Jemma sat beside Fitz, their hands interlaced together. Fitz hadn’t said a word since this morning, his face showing almost no emotions – he just stared at the ground, detached from everything and everyone around him.

“Whoa, whoa, hey now,” Daisy shouted, leaving the table where they were all eating their meal. Other than Fitz, that is, he hadn’t touched his plate. With Daisy leaving, the table was empty, so Jemma took the opportunity to try to talk to him.

“Can’t believe you’re not hungry.” She gave his arm a slight shove.

For the first time in hours he muttered out, “Well, m’not.”

Jemma tweaked a brow at him. “You’re always hungry.”

Fitz just shrugged, his eyes now watching the empty seat in front of him.

“Fitz,” she whispers, giving his hand folded into hers a squeeze. “You can’t keep blaming yourself, Fitz.”

Fitz didn’t move, he was like a statue for a moment. Then, suddenly, he let loose of her hand and stood up, leaving the room without another word.

Jemma held back any tears that begged their way out and leaned back in her seat, taking in a deep breath. She knew he was processing, he was grieving, he needed time. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell though.

“He’s just trying to cope,” Coulson spoke beside her, causing Jemma to jump.

She looked at the (new) Director, swallowed down the lump in her throat, and nodded. “I know.”

“When you left for Hydra, and he realized your ‘going to see the parents’ was a cover, he didn’t eat for a good four days.” Coulson lapsed his hand over hers. “He’ll recover, just give it time.”

Jemma nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

He gave her a comforting smile, standing up from his chair. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Jemma allowed Fitz time on his own, knowing he needed it. After about an hour of never seeing him anywhere on base, she decided to search for him. She of course found him in their lab, his arms crossed across his chest, his eyes staring out at nothing. He looked so distant from everything, so lost.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she approaching his side, gently gripping his forearm. “You disappeared.”

“Yeah,” he looked up at her. His eyes were red like he’d been crying. “I needed some air.”

Jemma nodded, “It’s getting late, we should probably get some rest.”

Fitz shook his head, looking back at the ground. He hardly looked her in the eyes anymore – like he was ashamed for her to see what he was feeling. “I’m gonna stay here.”

Jemma scoffed. “Well you can’t sleep in the lab, Fitz.”

“Might as well.”

“Fitz,”

“I just … I need some space, Jemma.”

Anger boiled up inside of her. Not at Fitz, but towards AIDA and Radcliffe and even his dad. However, she couldn’t lash out at them, so she shamefully lashed out at whoever was in front of her. “We all need space, Fitz, but that doesn’t mean you have to move out, running away from me and everyone else you care about.”

“That’s not…” He let out an unsteady sigh. “M’sorry, Jemma, but I think –”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” She felt her temper running hotter and hotter. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened, Fitz. The more you blame yourself, the more hurt you cause around you.”

Fitz shook his head again, his breath shallow. “How can I not? I killed Mace. I’m the reason –”

“No, Fitz,” Jemma turned his head to look at her. She looked him directly in the eyes as she said, “AIDA and Radcliffe are the ones at fault, do you understand me? You were a victim just as much as Mack or May were. You did not kill Mace, and you did not kill Agnes.”

Fitz searched her eyes, gazing at their desert beauty. He sucked in a deep breath, and while releasing he said, “How can you even look at me? It was my face that gave you all the injuries you’re still healing from. I was the one who pointed a gun at your face, who tortured…” his voice broke, and he looked back down. Her anger melted away, seeing the tears stream down his face. Jemma couldn’t stand seeing him like this. She had to fix it, but she knew she couldn’t use anything but words to try and soothe his pain.

“I can look at you because you are Leopold Fitz, the man I love with everything I have. It was never something I had to overcome.” She lifted his head again, brushing his cheek with her thumb. “I know you Fitz, and this is you. Not that LMD, not the Doctor, those men were never you and I knew that. Because no matter how much they might have looked like you, the warmth and love behind your eyes was never there, like it is now. This is the man I fell in love with – and despite your programming Fitz, you still always managed to twist whatever you were doing into what you saw as the right thing. You could never live with yourself, whatever version of you there was, to do something evil out of will. That speaks volumes, Fitz. It shows that no matter what programming, no matter what brain washing, manipulation, deception, it doesn’t matter, because you will always be Leopold James Fitz: lover of science, monkeys, positive outcomes, video games, and –”

“You.” He gave her a weak but loving smile.

“I was going to say space, but,” she gave him a teasing smile in return.

“I’m so sorry, Jemma.” This time, he didn’t look away. “For everything, I – I wanted to protect you and instead I caused you more suffering than I ever could have burdened –”

“Don’t you understand, Fitz?” She caressed his cheeks in both of her hands, wiping away his tears. “I never once blamed you.”

Fitz stood up from his seat, looking down at her beaming face. He took one of Jemma’s hands in his and cherished her smile before leaning in and sweetly kissing her on the lips. The kiss was short lived, but affectionate. Their foreheads met and meeting her eyes he said, “I love you, Jemma.”

She ran a hand through his hair, smoothing his overgrown curls. She returned the gaze, giving him a tender smile to say, “And I love you. We’re in this together, remember?”

Fitz closed his eyes, taking in everything. Then once opening them again he looked at her fully, searching her eyes, captivated by her strength and beauty. Then, he finally said out in one breath, “Together.”

Send me an ask with a number from my prompt list here!

3tinkgemini  asked:

Klaroline 133 :)

Okay, this prompt cracked me up and honestly, I feared it was going to sound OOC whoever was going to say it, but for once I’ll let it slide. Thanks for sending me another prompt!

KC +  “Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society.”


“It’s hot,” Caroline declared, glaring at the sun from behind her sunglasses. “Why is it so hot?” she complained. She was clad in only her blue bikini, lounging next to the pool, but even getting up to jump into the water felt like too much effort right now.

“You’re the one that complained that we had such a cool summer, last week,” Rebekah reminded her. She was lying next to Caroline and was texting her brother to get them some cool drinks from inside the house.

“So it’s my fault we’re in the middle of a heatwave?” Caroline exclaimed. “I said warmer weather, not melting my clothes off hot.”

“Who’s clothes are melting off, and can I watch?” a voice spoke up from behind them and Caroline slowly rolled over to see who it was. Kol and Klaus walked up to the two girls with a pitcher of water with ice.

“OMG GIMME!” Caroline made grabby gestures with her hands and let the comment slide. She didn’t have the energy to argue right now.

“You know you’re going to get burned if you’re going to stay out in the sun much longer, right?” Klaus reminded her while he looked her over. Already he noticed how she was starting to color slightly on her lower back.

“I can’t get up and move!” Caroline complained, “The sun made us lazy and I don’t know where I left my sunscreen.”

Klaus pointedly looked at the bottle that laid in the grass about three feet away from where Caroline and his sister were lying.

“It’s too far,” Caroline stated, looking up at Klaus with a pleading expression. Or at least she hoped that’s how it came across as, with her sunglasses on she couldn’t be sure. 

Rebekah meanwhile had taken the pitcher and glasses out of Kol’s hands and started pouring them both a glass of ice cold water. She laid one of the ice cubes on Caroline’s unsuspecting back and laughed when her friend shrieked at the cold sensation. “REBEKAH!” she shrieked and threw the cube back to her.

“Just trying to help you cool off,” Rebekah joked while she took a sip of the water. When she put it down, she noticed Kol’s mischievous grin, “Kol, whatever you have planned, don’t-” before she could finish her protest, he had her gathered in his arms and threw her into the pool.

Klaus and Caroline looked at them when they heard Rebekah yell at Kol but when they noticed she was quickly turning the tables and pulling Kol in the pool as well, they let the siblings be. Caroline turned back to Klaus and noticed how he had gathered her sunscreen. She glanced at him over her sunscreen and held out her hand so he could hand it over her.

“Thank you,” she said while she uncapped the bottle and gathered the lotion on her hands.

“Can’t have you burn now, can we,” Klaus said while he sat down next to her. “We wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

“Again, I can only blame the sun,” Caroline stubbornly said. She looked back at the pool where Rebekah and Kol were still fighting in the water and looked at the bottle of sunscreen, “Uhm can you do my back? Normally I would ask Rebekah but…”

Klaus looked up in surprise and automatically accepted the bottle. He glanced down at Caroline who was lying on her front, facing away from him. He poured some lotion on her back. She shivered at the cool sensation but otherwise didn’t react.

He carefully moved his hands on her back, spreading the lotion and he could hear her hum in response. He was hyper aware of every inch of her that his hands touched while he covered her bare lower back. He quickly stopped when he reached the hem of her bottoms, very conscious that he didn’t accidentally grope the girl. He repeated the actions again, but from her shoulders and down this time. His movements became more firm, and he could hear her moan in response.

“Are you trying to give me a massage as well?” Caroline teased, peaking up from behind her glasses.

“Sorry,” he apologized and slowed his movements. He reached the bands of her bikini top and paused, unsure if he should skip them or move them so he could get beneath them.

“Don’t,” she said, “I liked it.” She moved behind her back and unclasped her bikini. For a moment she thoughts she heard Klaus forget to breathe and she smirked. Good to know he wasn’t immune to her. She only opened the back, so he could apply sunscreen in that area as well, and moved the bands but Klaus’ reaction was an added benefit.

Klaus silently continued applying the sunscreen/massage. He continued with the sides when his fingers accidentally grazed Caroline’s breasts. While they both momentarily still, neither of them mentioned or acknowledged the moment. When not an inch of Caroline wasn’t completely covered with sunscreen, she didn’t tell Klaus to stop and he silently continued until Rebekah and Kol returned. 

Kol immediately sprayed cold water on the both of them before he stole Caroline’s towel. He noticed the silence and looked at the two with suspicion. “What have you two been up to?”

“Nothing,” they said simultaneously and Kol narrowed his eyes. “Right, nothing. Then why is Caroline blushing and does my brother look like I just busted him watching porn?”

“It’s the sun. It’s making you see things,” Caroline argued and rolled over, avoiding Klaus’ eyes on her. This was so not the place and company to acknowledge that something had just happened between them. Wait had something happened? What if she was imagining it all, and he just thought he was helping a friend out? But then, if nothing had happened to them, why was he looking like her like she… like she was something edible. Caroline shivered, she needed to get out of here before she dragged him inside so they could talk about this. Or rip each other’s clothes off. She preferred the latter option which just proved how much she needed to cool off.

“I’m going to get ice cream,” Caroline announced while she got up. She looked around for her shorts and pulled them over her bikini bottoms. “Does anyone want anything?”

“Buy the rocky road ice cream!” Rebekah said and Caroline nodded at her.

“Kol, Klaus? Anything?”

“A blueberry slushie and some chocolate ice cream,” Kol said. Caroline looked surprised at his order but nodded nonetheless. Who was she to question his choices?

“You haven’t had a slushie since you were a kid,” Rebekah said surprised, “Aren’t they for kids anyway?”

“Slushies aren’t just for kids, fuck society,” Kol muttered dejectedly. 

Rebekah and Caroline shared an amused expression before the latter turns to Klaus. “Do you- do you want something, Klaus?” Her voice shivered and she wished the question didn’t sound so suggestive.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Klaus said while he looked to be pondering over his ice cream choices. “I’ll walk with you,” he told her, “Maybe I just need to know my options first.”

“Oh,” she glanced at Rebekah and Kol. It’s not like she could refuse him, or could explain why she wanted to go on her own. Instead, she nodded, “Okay, let’s go,” she announced and walked in front of him. She glanced behind him, to check if he was following her and caught his eyes on her ass. She bit her lip and looked away. So she definitely hadn’t imagined that attraction…

“So… what are you unsure about?” Caroline asked when were on the street. He looked confused so she clarified, “Your options, you weren’t sure what you would pick… so what are you undecided between?”

“Whether I should kiss you or if I should take you on a date first,” Klaus told her. She froze next to him in astonishment.

“I meant ice cream choices… but um yes, that’s also a tough one,” she agreed and bit her lip to hide the smile on her face.

“So… which has your preference?” Caroline tried and glanced at him while they continue to walk to the store.

“Ice cream flavors?” Klaus tried, hoping he could steer the conversation away from his confession.

“The other thing.”

“The ‘you’ thing.”

“The ‘me’ thing,” Caroline agreed. “I mean if you like, I could help… Since I’m involved in this dilemma anyway.” He nodded so she continued. “How about… you kiss me, and then ask me out,” she opted.

“Would you say yes?” Klaus asked, not sure how he fell into this conversation.

“I suppose that depends on how good the kiss is,” Caroline joked. Klaus stopped walking so she paused next to him. “I mean if it’s bad, we both-” She got interrupted by Klaus’ mouth on hers. She gasped in surprise and opened her mouth to him. Their lips moved against each other, while their tongues tangled together before Caroline broke their kiss.

“Was that bad?” Klaus asked, his forehead leaning against Caroline’s.

“Hmm, you might need to do it again so I can make a good decision,” Caroline smiled and moved in for another kiss.

“So is that a yes?” Klaus asked, momentarily stopping her.

“Yes,” she breathed out before their lips met again. She was definitely going on that date with Klaus, but first, they should kiss. She decided right here and then that kissing Klaus might just become her favorite thing in the world. All thoughts about ice cream and slushies were long forgotten. Kol and Rebekah would live.


I don’t even know how that prompt made me write this drabble, but hey it’s here and I blame the sun :P Hope you liked it regardless of the fact that Kol never got his slushie!

If you want me to write another prompt, take a look here and send me the number and ship!

Oikage Week - Day 1

Words: 1878
Rating: G
Notes: I tried p hard to make this as canon as possible so i guess this could be considered pre-relationship? Hmm idk, but enjoy ~

Kageyama felt silly standing in front of Aoba Johsai with flowers in one hand and a box of chocolate in the other. He was pretty sure the graduation ceremony was almost over with and he hasn’t even crossed the gates entering the school. 

Keep reading

IT’S BEEN A WHILE

I haven’t actually watched Call the Midwife in so long ahh! The end of the semester has been kicking my ass but good news, this is my last week of class & I only have 2 finals next week! So I’ll be able to relax a bit and go back to being ctm trash™ later next week + I also convinced my mom to buy the books so I can read those when I get home too. Anyways, I have a break in between my second and last class & instead of being productive/working on all the assignments I have due this week I’m going to watch 4.06 (I closed my eyes and picked from the episode guide lol) because it’s been far too long! 😭👏🏼📺 ✨ here goes nothing, I’m officially back to annoying you all with my commentaries™ 💁🏼

Keep reading

Mystic Messenger High School AU (Fanfic)

Sooo I’ve had this sitting on my computer for a while now and haven’t posted it. I’d like to work on it some more yet, but figured I’d share what I’ve written :P Feedback and ideas more than welcome!


Summary: High school AU, pretty much what’s on the tin. This is just the intro – essentially covers part of MM’s prologue. I might use this setting to write a request or two if I like it enough~ E for everyone, no spoilers. I named the MC Kassi (Kasumi) because this would be really hard to do without a name for her. Enjoy!

Keep reading

Guys. What if Hinata can sing.

• Like, really sing- as in every note that comes out of his mouth is a blessing from above that would make a vicious serial killer want to start an orphanage and donate to the homeless.

• What if Hinata can play guitar and even taught himself; think of how he learned to play by practicing and watching others, just like volleyball.

• Hinata being able to mimic chords just by looking at them one time and sight reading music so quickly that he can learn a completely foreign song and memorize it within an hour?

•Hinata isn’t the volleyball idiot that everyone expects, and actually has a hidden talent that no one would assume.

• But what if Hinata had horrible, horrible stage fright and refused to sing in front of everyone- except Natsu because she never judges his voice and sometimes it’s the only thing that will calm her down after a tantrum or when it’s time for bed.

• And it just so happens that the whole team goes out to a restaurant/bar after a particularly good practice before vacation only to find that it’s karaoke night and anyone is invited.

• Hinata just sits there fidgeting because someone just sang a horrible rendition of Sanctuary and he could crush every person in the place if he just wasn’t scared shitless.

• And Suga is constantly giving the “I know you want to,” look because he may or may not have accidentally walked in on Hinata singing a really gorgeous song when he thought the club room was empty and may or may not have gushed his heart out until Hinata made him pinky promise not to tell anyone. (“Really Hinata? I don’t think a pinky prom-” “Please, Suga-Senpai!!”)

• And then the last call for singers before the DJ goes home goes out and Suga literally kicks Hinata from under the table and how the hell did he do that from the other side of the table so Hinata literally bolts up and stands there for a solid thirty seconds, not really sure where his heart landed on the floor because it certainly didn’t come up with him/that or it’s beating so fast he can’t feel it anymore.

• Everyone staring at Hinata like they’re expecting some sort of speech or joke or proclamation of “We’re Going to Win!”

• Then, as if the actual law of gravity has suddenly reversed itself, Hinata raises his hand and asks if he can go on the stage. He’s actually quite proud of himself that he didn’t throw up while he asked.

• The whole team just stares at him blankly, blinking with food half-hanging out of their mouths. Suga looks like he’s bursting with pride, while Tsukishima looks mildly sick. Hinata won’t dare look any of them in the eye.

• What if they start laughing? What if Noya and Tanaka both can’t hold it in and make a scene? God, Kageyama is right next to him, judging him and Chikara looks like he’s about to ask Hinata to take a drink of water to calm down.

(“Um Hinata, you do know you have to be able to sing, right?” “Christ, Hinata! Sit down! Haha!” “Did someone put something in his food?” He can imagine all the comments that are waiting to come out.)

• But all of a sudden, the guy at the DJ booth comes over and ushers him away to pick a song, leaving Hinata without a chance to back out and run away. He’s stranded near the stage with the entire team looking at his back, and no escape route. The guy asks what song and Hinata suddenly sees a guitar behind the booth, one much like his own and just the sight of a similar instrument calms his down a bit.

• He looks back to see Suga give him a thumbs up, everyone still watching him like they’re half confused and half intrigued- maybe a little scared and Hinata takes a breath. Then asks for the guitar and a mic stand.

• He’s shaking while things are being set up, but holy crap this is actually happening ohmygod someone stop him please just send him off and bury him in a ditch because oh god don’t make me do this-

• The first strum of the guitar is wiry and loud and people flinch and so does Hinata because his nerves are getting to him, dammit! The second strum is easier, the third is softer, the fourth movement of his hand is relaxed and comfortable and suddenly his fingers feel warm and light and his head is clear and the lights are so bright he can’t even see anyone more than five feet away.

• And then Hinata opens his mouth and the entire place goes deathly quiet while lyrics to the acoustic version of “I’m a Believer” pour past Hinata’s lips like they were made to be there.

• He starts singing softly, then gets stronger and more emotional, his eyes falling shut as his hands strum the guitar with practiced ease and his voice fills every room with this calming radiance that no one expected from the shaking, stuttering, hyperventilating kid who walked up literally 40 seconds ago.

• And every single member of the Karasuno Volleyball Club is absolutely dumbstruck because who the hell is he and what did he do with Hinata? Even Tsukishima can’t turn away and even takes off his headphones so he can listen better.

• Asahi is wiping a tear from his eye, while Noya and Tanaka don’t hide their watery-eyed pride for they Kouhai. Daichi looks more at peace than anyone has ever seen him and Chikara’s heart may have stopped beating for a minute. Suga is just sitting there like a smug little shit with a glowing sign above him saying “That’s my kid, start bowing.”

•Then there’s Kageyama; not sure whether he should keep looking at Hinata like a fish out of water or keep his eyes down to hold in the blush of embarrassment.

•And all of them are struck completely silent as Hinata continues to sing with this unearthly voice that is an actual gift. People who weren’t even in that section of the restaurant are crowding in the doorway to see who that beautiful voice belongs to- some women writing down their numbers for after the performance and some men as well.

Guys.

What if Hinata can sing.

And it just turns everybody into better people.

And also a little bit gay.

pineapple cakes and vanilla lattes


Pairing:
Oikawa Tooru/Hinata Shouyou

Words: 1,430

i started getting more oihina feels while writing this for @hraina….i will write you all the oihina in the world for you bb 

(i need to find a beta, i’m so sorry for any grammar mistakes)


 Oikawa utterly detests the rain.

        He hates how it ruins his hair—his luxurious, silky brown hair that takes him exactly thirty-seven minutes to style this morning— and drenches his clothes. He hates how it leaves puddles for cars to race through and splash him in the process as he walks on the sidewalk, and god, somehow every bus becomes unavailable, crowded, and behind schedule. He hates it when fat raindrops seeps into his skin and soaks his bones, and leaves him shivering silly as he runs to find shelter. And he especially hates how his roommate was right in today having the worst thunderstorm yet in over a decade and how he ignored the newscaster’s warnings to stay inside.

        He has contemplated before to pack his bags and move to a desert where he wouldn’t see a drop of miserable water falling from slow, thundering clouds. But then there would be competition, and well, Oikawa likes to think of himself as the hottest thing around. Plus, he personally believes he transforms into the green-skinned witch from the Wizard of Oz whenever he sweats, and he just can’t have that.

       He is blinder in the rain with his glasses on, so he takes them off and jogs to the nearest shop that he can make out with his horrible vision. He enters a coffee shop—nearly deserted except for one or two students trapped in by the rain— and marches up to a blurry-faced barista, sputters out his order for the hottest drink they have, and scoots to a table placed by the store’s heater.

        Oikawa is too busy rubbing away the smudges the raindrops left on his glasses to notice the barista walk up to him with his order until he hears a squeaky, soft voice say his name.

      “Oikawa?”

      He jerks his head up and sees a blurry redhead until he puts back on his glasses. It’s been a few years since he’s last seen dimples and a goofy grin as lovely as the one he sees right now, but his mind registers the stranger as Hinata, and his stomach sinks with an anchor made out of anxiety. Oikawa can only imagine what a dripping, frazzled mess he must seem in front of the redhead; he makes futile attempt to run a hand through his frizzy hair—another reason why he hates the rain is how it makes his hair poofy and unkempt— but he gives up trying to salvage the last remaining grace he ever had and gives a weak hello.

        “How long has it been? Three years?” Hinata breaths out a laugh and scratches the back of his head. Oikawa notices the long orange bangs that frame his face, the small tail his hair makes with his hair tied up, and even the small black piercing on his right ear. He stares for a little too long before he gives a sheepish laugh.

        “Oh, probably. I almost didn’t recognize you, you look so different.”

         “Ah, thanks. It probably took you awhile to recognize me because I finally grew a few inches.” Hinata grins. “I really wasn’t expecting you, especially with today’s weather. You look–”

        “Horrible? Like I’m auditioning for a role as a Disney villain? Please don’t remind me, today has been a horrible day.” Oikawa groans. The redhead shakes his head with a horrified expression on his face.

        “No, no! I wasn’t going to say that at all!”

        Oikawa laughs and waves it off. “It’s fine, it’s fine, I’m just messing with you. How long have you been working here?”

       “My mother started this up awhile ago, so I help her out every now and then whenever I have free time from university. She’s a chef at a restaurant in the city, but she wanted to start up this store up as a side business.” Hinata pauses and pulls out a chair from an adjacent table. “Do you mind if I sit with you? It’s not all that busy today, so I was kind of bored before you came in.”

       As they sat talking, Oikawa soon forgets about how horrible his day was, and how horrible his hair is. His clothes dries up—Hinata turned up the heater despite Oikawa’s protests— and Hinata lends him a spare jacket he had in the back. Hinata brags on how good the coffee he makes is, and Oikawa can’t deny that the warm, sweet drink in his hand is tasty and able to help him relax. Time slips by quickly because of how easy it is to talk to the energetic barista; Hinata’s voice has become more mellow over time, more soothing to hear and Oikawa forgets about the time, forgets about the constant drum of raindrops on the window, and lets himself enjoy the conversation they have.

       After a few hours pass, Oikawa sits during the bus ride home and listens to the music on his phone. He is exhausted, his back hurts from carrying his book bag, and the bus driver is driving at a speed equivalent to a snail due to the pouring rain, but Oikawa finds himself enjoying how pretty the rain clouds can be during sunset and how lovely the raindrops look against his windows. He hears his phone buzz and sees a new message from an unknown number.

{it was really nice seeing you today!! let me know when u get home safely!!! }

        Hinata doesn’t make rainy days so bad.


        On days he has free time, Oikawa starts stopping by the same coffee shop after his classes. The small, warm shop has a constant smell of pineapple bread and vanilla mochas, and it is easy for Oikawa to finish his work there because of how quiet it is. The coffee shop helps him focus as he finishes sketching designs and material ideas for his fashion classes, and he completes typing his essays easier than when he tries working in his apartment. He doesn’t actually like coffee all that much and tries to avoid drinking it as much as he can—he doesn’t want to admit that he mainly buys coffee from the shop as an excuse to see the orange-haired, dimple-faced barista—, and it doesn’t take Hinata too long to figure out that Oikawa isn’t much of a fan of bitter drinks.

        “If you don’t like coffee, then why do you stop by so much?” Hinata asks one day and leans on the counter. There’s a twinkle in the redhead’s eyes, and Oikawa notices how his eyes are a lovely shade of brown.

        “It’s a good study place. I can’t focus at my apartment because my roommate is always too loud or distracting.” Oikawa says and watches Hinata load a tray of pastries onto the display. “Can you give me two pastries to go? I left the one I bought the other day in the fridge, and Kuroo ate it.”

        “Do you usually cook for you and him?”

        “Sometimes he brings his boyfriend Tsukishima over and we go out to eat. Most of the time he cooks and I clean. It’s a healthy relationship we have,” Oikawa fakes a serious face and feels his stomach tingle when Hinata snorts and covers his mouth with his hand. “Yikes, is that how you scare off your dates?”

        “Oh, be quiet, you are not someone who can judge how I laugh.” Hinata grins as he hands him a bag of pastries. He opens his mouth to say something before quickly biting down his lips and fiddles with his hands. Oikawa starts asking if there was anything on his mind that seemed to trouble him before the redhead cuts him off.

        “Speaking of dates, when will you ask me out on one?”

        When he realizes how straightforward he is, Hinata’s face heats up to a shade that seemed to match the raspberry pastries he gave to Oikawa, but he continues talking and keeps his eyes locked on the brown-haired man.

        “I know you said this store helps you study, but you don’t always have to buy coffee as a way to talk to me.” Hinata says as he reaches for a notebook and a pen. He scribbles down something and shoves it to Oikawa. He’s stunned and speechless—it isn’t the first time someone has asked him out and usually he considers himself smooth and charming—but he’s astonished at how abruptly Hinata asks him and how easily the redhead can see through him.

        “Call me when you’ve thought about it, okay?” Hinata sends a small, flustered smile to the brown-haired student. “And I promise we can get something that isn’t coffee.”

[[It’s The Small Things That Say ‘I Love You’]]

“Bless his soul, but Master Timothy is a worse patient than you are and you were never going to read those papers. He is in the guest bedroom down the hall from billards room.” Alfred nodded towards the tray that held the bowl of broth, then removed his apron and promptly left the kitchen.

Keep reading

Ask me some of these! These questions are actually pretty interesting! (said the person who wrote them)
  • 1. How old are you?
  • 2. How do you feel about that?
  • 3. How tall are you?
  • 4. How do you feel about that?
  • 5. What was the last dream you had?
  • 6. Are you a liar?
  • 7. Is that last question answerable?
  • 8. What is your spirit animal?
  • 9. Do you know what a spirit animal is?
  • 10. Pancakes, waffles, or French toast?
  • 11. Or do you like something weird like crepes?
  • 12. Do you disagree with the description of crepes as weird and think that that description is suggestive of a narrow cultural perspective?
  • 13. Did the grammatically correct repetition of the word “that” in the previous question excite you sexually?
  • 14. Do you like it when your questions are serialized?
  • 15. Do you like it when your breakfast is cerealized?
  • 16. Do you think that too many of these questions are about breakfast?
  • 17. How long has it been since you kissed someone?
  • 18. Have you ever murdered someone?
  • 19. Are you sure?
  • 20. So where were you on the night of March 2nd?
  • 21. Then how come witnesses put you at the scene of the crime just minutes after the gunshot was heard?
  • 22. What’s your favorite TV show?
  • 23. Who’s your favorite character from that show?
  • 24. Are you giving me a sideways glance because I asked you those last two questions here on tumblr where that's literally all you talk about?.
  • 25. If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, would you die?
  • 26. If you could eat whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, would you die?
  • 27. Are you going to die whatever you do because this is the human condition?
  • 28. Did you just get a little down?
  • 29. How often do you go grocery shopping?
  • 30. Do you think the people at the checkout line are judging your groceries?
  • 31. If you built a robot, what would it do?
  • 32. If you could speak in a font, which font would it be?
  • 33. What keeps you up at night?
  • 34. If you could have dinner with one person from history, where would you eat?
  • 35. Are you seeing someone right now?
  • 36. Have you been seeing them for a long time?
  • 37. Was it since you were a child? Always at night as you’re drifting off to sleep? Your eyes get heavy and begin to close, but just as you do, you see their face, sheet white and smiling too wide? And they don’t have eyes, not really? Just black pinpoints where the eyes would be? And you jump at the sight, but then they’re gone? And you try to convince yourself that you didn't really see them? But in reality, that face is burned into your brain more deeply than anyone you’ll ever love? And maybe that’s why they’re smiling?
  • 38. Favorite cookie?
  • 39. What’s your dream job?
  • 40. Give me five movies and I'll rank them from most to least favorite
  • 41. Give me five movies and I'll rank them from most to least amount of Steve Buscemi
  • 42. Give me five numbers and I'll rank them from lowest to highest
  • 43. What do you like to do when you alone?
  • 44. What's your favorite version of Solitaire (Patience)?
  • 45. Which is your favorite tooth?
  • 46. Which tooth is kind of an asshole?
  • 47. Which other parts of you are kind of an asshole?
  • 48. What was your favorite place to live?
  • 49. Do you have a secret that you'll take to your grave?
  • 50. Did you seriously just say yes to that last question? Your secret keeping game is weak, son.
  • 51. Does my little hoodrat friend make you sick?
  • 52. But after you get sick you just get sad?
  • 53. Pizza toppings. Likes, dislikes, fetishes, what have you
  • 54. Do you have any friendship dealbreakers?
  • 55. Do you have any relationship dealbreakers?
  • 56. Do you have any relationship jawbreakers?
  • 57. Can you juggle?
  • 58. You're adapting your favorite book into a movie. But OH NOES! The studio thinks there's too many characters and tells you that you have to get rid of one. And if you don't, you're fired. What do you do?
  • 59. You and I are forming a secret society. What is it called and what are the rules?
  • 60. What is it? What do you smell?
  • 61. What's your favorite texture?
  • 62. What's your favorite ...sexture? Aww yeah! *porn music starts playing*
  • 63. Do you have any pets? Tell me about your pets!
  • 64. Okay, okay, you can stop telling me about your pets now.
  • 65. Unless you have pictures.
  • 66. What are the last three songs you listened to?
  • 67. How much pudding?
  • 68. Write a story in six words.
  • 69. *giggles*
  • 70. Do you use the semicolon?
  • 71 Do you talk to yourself often?
  • 72. What do you talk to yourself about?
  • 73. Give yourself a motto.
  • 74. Give yourself another motto, but, this time, it has to be something that abbreviates as T.O.O.T.S.
  • 75. How about a motto that features the noble and majestic albatross?
  • 76. How do you think you're going to die?
  • 77. Nah, that's not it. Trust me.
  • 78. What's your favorite game to play with a group?
  • 79. Do you drink? (Not alcohol specifically. Just fluids in general)
  • 80. How do you sleep? On your back? Your side? On a massive horde of gold and jewels?
  • 81. What's your favorite word?
  • 82. One or two spaces after a period?
  • 83. What would the title of your autobiography be?
  • 84. What about the title of the novel that you would write about the last thing you ate?
  • 85. Infrared or ultraviolet? PICK A SIDE! WE'RE AT WAR!
  • 86. Oh noes! You have to be at a costume party in 20 minutes and you forgot to make a costume! You dumb fuck! What will you do?
  • 87. What's your favorite book chapter title?
  • 88. Did you have an imaginary friend growing up?
  • 89. What about imaginary enemies? Imaginary strangers?
  • 90. Write a villain song for a villain that doesn't have one!
  • 91. What toy from your childhood do you wish you still had?
  • 92. If God exists and makes notes about you in his little Moleskine notebook (Of course God has a Moleskine notebook. He's such a pretentious asshole. JUST BECAUSE YOU BOUGHT A LITTLE NOTEBOOK AND ALSO CREATED THE UNIVERSE DOESN'T MAKE YOU A WRITER, GOD! CALL ME WHEN YOU ACTUALLY WRITE THAT SCREENPLAY!) what does He say about you?
  • 93. How do you feel about parantheticals? (You love them.)
  • 94. Which U.S. President would you most like to make out with? Just make outs, nothing below the belt.
  • 95. Okay, maybe a little below the belt.
  • 96. Do you believe that people have souls? And remember, some of these people like The Black Eyed Peas.
  • 97. What do you sing in the shower?
  • 98. What's your favorite operating system?
  • 99. If it was totally up to you, how long would you like to live?
  • 100. What's it all mean, anyway? You know? Like...LIFE? And shit?

omniscientkilla  asked:

Hello there! I've been an aspiring witch for quite a while now, and although I have some very informative books that give me many spells, and many blogs and sources for spells, I have no where that I've found very reliable sources except for on this blog, and I've never found any curses. I was wondering if you'd be able to help me. Now, I suppose I'm going to have to explain the story for it to make any sense, so I'll send you another ask explaining why I need a curse and you can help me find 1.

noname6924

 asked:

Okay, when I was younger, my mother’s ex-boyfriend had ruined my childhood because he put me into sex trafficking, my mom was oblivious, thinking that I was always at cheer practice, but in reality I was being drugged and whore-d out to his friends and other strangers. This happened for most of my life, from the age of 4 to 9, once my mother finally broke up with him because she thought I was getting sick from him when I weighed in at 65 pounds at 9, as a druggie, and when he left, I had to quit the drugs cold turkey, which included things from crack, cocaine, heroin, and all sorts of things I couldn’t ever even recognize. Needless to say, within a year, once I regained my appetite, I also regained my eating habits again and gained almost 200 pounds. He has caused me so much anger and pain, but I’ve lost a great deal of anger as I’ve shed 150 pounds over the past few years, but since the legal system wont help me, I need to rely on my own system. If you could help it’d mean a lot. <3

THAT PIECE OF SHIT DESERVES EVERY LAST BIT OF TERRIBLE THAT HAPPENS IN HIS LIFE, BAR NONE. YOU’ll NEED:
  • buy a new plush/stuffed doll, preferably man-like
  • picture of the offender
  • something to stab and cut (knife as sharp as possible, you’ll want to keep a good grip so you don’t cut yourself)
  • twine/rope or yarn
  • as many pins, needles, nails, thorns as you can find
  • cobwebs
  • if you can, dirt bought from a site where a death occurred (think car accidents, etc. you can buy it by going there and leaving the spirit some alcohol such as rum and flowers or food)
  • a large rock from the beach to tie the poppet to

TAKE THE POPPET AND TIE/GLUE/STITCH THE PHOTO OF THE OFFENDER ONTO THE FACE. THINK UP OF ALL OF THE DAMAGE HE HAS DONE TO YOU, DREDGE UP ALL OF THE EMOTIONS AND FEELINGS YOU HAVE AND WHY YOU ARE STABBING HIM. LET THESE WOUNDS CUT DEEP INTO HIS PHYSICAL BODY, LET THESE WOUNDS CUT DEEP INTO ANY SEMBLANCE OF HAPPINESS TO SHREDS. DO THIS UNTIL YOU’RE EMOTIONALLY SPENT AND CAN READILY MOVE ON IN YOUR LIFE WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.

TAKE ALL OF THE PINS/POINTY THINGS YOU’VE GATHERED AND SHOVE IT INTO WHAT IS LEFT OF THE POPPET. IF YOU’VE DONE SUCH A NUMBER THAT THE BODY IS SHREDDED, MAKE A CLOTH BAG TO SHOVE IT INTO (PREFERABLY BLACK OR PURPLE) WITH THE ITEMS. THIS WILL ENSURE THAT HE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET HIS LIFE TOGETHER AGAIN. THROW THE COBWEBS IN THERE TO ENSURE HIS MIND WILL STAY FOGGED AND UNABLE TO THINK PROPERLY. THROW IN THE BOUGHT DIRT TO SHOWER HIM IN FORTHCOMING DEATH. NOW TIE THE BAG/POPPET TO THE ROCK VERY VERY WELL. YOU WANT TO ENSURE YOU DO THIS TIGHTLY BECAUSE YOU WILL BE THROWING THIS ROCK INTO THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKE OR OCEAN. 

FOR AS LONG AS HIS BODY IS BELOW THE SURFACE, HE WILL NOT BE ABLE TO BREAK FREE TO GET ANY AIR. HE WILL FROM THEN ON FEEL LIKE HE IS DROWNING, AND NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO HELP.

Mivi