loud crash

anonymous asked:

I've been having a crappy couple of days. Got any cute Kristanna fluff to lighten my mood?

I’m so sorry, nonnie! How about some pregnancy fluff?

The loud crash woke Kristoff from a sound sleep, and for one disoriented moment he thought the world had ended. When he finally got his wits about him, he sighed as he realized Anna wasn’t in bed. He got out of bed and walked towards the source of the noise.

Anna was in the kitchen, perched precariously on a chair as she tried to reach for something on the top shelf. Kristoff panicked.

“Anna what the hell are you doing!” he ran over and picked her up off the chair, setting her lightly down on the floor.

“Oh Kristoff! I’m so glad you’re awake!” she patted him on the shoulder, and as Kristoff finally looked at her he saw that she was quite a mess. Melted chocolate dotted her chin and cheeks, peanut butter was smeared on her right arm and part of the front of her night shirt. “Could you get the maraschino cherries on the top shelf up there?”

Kristoff reached up, grabbed the bottle in question and gave it to her. “Don’t we have an open bottle in the fridge?” he asked, eyebrow raising as she opened the bottle and started grabbing at the little cherries with her fingers.

“We did, but I finished it.” she popped a handful of them into her mouth.

“I see.” Kristoff’s eyes grew wide as she was in the process of polishing off the entire bottle as they stood there. “Were you trying to recreate a peanut butter cup?” he asked, gesturing to the mess on her face and clothing.

“Mmhm,” she attempted to answer with a mouthful of cherries, “but the real kind would be wonderful right about now.” she hinted, with lashes fluttering.

Kristoff rolled his eyes and chuckled, as he grabbed his coat and walked towards the front door.

When he returned, thankful for twenty-four hour drugstores, he found her lying on the sofa, snoring peacefully. He couldn’t help but smile, as he walked over and slipped his arms under her, carrying her back to their bed. She stirred in his arms.

“Kristoff?”

“Let’s get you back to bed, princess.” he smiled at her.

“Mmm, thank you. This baby will be the death of me.” she groaned.

You will be the death of you. No more climbing on furniture when you’re nine months pregnant please.”

“Yes sir.” she mock-saluted as he lay her gently down on the bed. “You’re so good to me.” she brought his face to hers and kissed him softly before turning to her side. Kristoff smiled, pulled the blanket over her and settled in.

After a moment, in a voice already laced with sleep, Anna asked “Did you get the peanut butter cups?”

“Yes. You want me to go get them, don’t you?”

She reached back and patted him on the leg.

“You’re so good to me.”

A Day in the Life

Pairing: Jin x Yoongi x You

Genre: Fluffy fluffiness 


It was too early to wake up, especially for what was supposed to be a lazy Sunday. The sun was just beginning to mark its path above the buildings; rays of light managing to stretch through the curtains and lay warm hands upon what it could reach. The exhaustion still coursing through your body made it feel heavy, and made you regret waking up earlier than when you wanted to.

You attempted to close your mind off again, succumb to the dark void patiently waiting behind closed eyes. However, you felt your mind deliberately wake, becoming slowly alert one anatomical section at a time. A loud crash and subsequent “shit” floated down the hall from the kitchen, and you fully woke up with a loud, unpleased groan. The food loving maniac was probably making breakfast for the lazy people still curled in bed - curse him, why did he have to do something so thoughtful so early in the morning?

Keep reading

Playing video-games with Peter would include...

. Neither you or Peter are big fans of games that involve a lot of physical action so you decide on Mario Cart.

. Having to play Rock Paper Scissors because you both want the same character

.Both being way to competitive, which leads to a LOt of shouting.
. “y/n! You can’t throw the Wii on the floor!!”

. Aunt may running in because she thinks someone got hurt or something.

. “Are you guys ok? I heard a loud crash and some screaming!”

. Ending up sitting between peters legs with his arms wrapped around you.

. ACTUALLY calling Tony Stark because Peter thinks you cheated.
. “what is it? Are you hurt?”
.“His pride is hurt”  
. “y/n shush”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ok so this is the first thing I’ve posted and I’m for some reason like really anxious about it, But if you read the whole thing please tell me what you think of it :)

When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground, it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls off the wall, it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it’s completely silent. You would think that for something so important, it would make the loudest noise in the whole world, or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a symbol or the ringing of a bell. But it’s silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.
—  Cecelia Ahern, If You Could See Me Now

Imagine:

You were sat in front of the TV with your parents and there was a loud crash coming from your room.

“What was that?“your dad said getting up to go and check.

“That was Stiles, and my queue to leave"you smiled as you rushed up the stairs to see your boyfriend.

"Tell him to use the door next time, he does have his own key"your mom called after you.

Your dad looked at your mom with confusion plastered on his face.

"Stiles has a key? I don’t even have my own key"your dad said.

BTS losing Yoongi in a mall
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b>Jin:</b> Where do you think he could be?<<p/><b><p/><b>Taehyung:</b> </b> Hang on I got this.<p/><b>Taehyung:</b> HOSOEK IS A UGLY UNTALENTED FLOP<p/><b></b> *loud crashes can be heard in the distance*<p/><b>Yoongi:</b> Some biTCH IS GONNA DIE TODAY<p/><b>Taehyung:</b> Found him.<p/></p><p/></p>

“shit, time to restart the clown generators“ i say as i pull a lever on an old rusted machine.  It sputters for a few seconds before whirring to live.  suddenly it sputters some more and pipes begin to rattle, with a loud crash, a large lump of congealed clown makeup is launched from the exhaust pipe and onto the filthy floor of the warehouse, on it, perfectly lettered, are the words “the clown“

Hanzo meets Jesse for the first time and without even thinking he turns to Genji and says in Japanese, “I’m going to ride him into the sunset,” and there’s a loud crash as Jesse drops his mug of coffee because he fucking speaks near fluent Japanese and Hanzo just…. legs it.

It’s okay though because Jesse is just relieved Hanzo doesn’t speak Spanish and thus didn’t understand Jesse when he saw Hanzo for the first time and elbowed Fareeha in the side and said something about taming those dragons.

Accident-related starters

“What have you done?”

“How did you manage this?”

“I think I’m stuck.”

“To be fair, this isn’t entirely my fault.”

“That chair was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“I swear, you are the clumsiest person alive.”

“What happened this time?”

“No life-threatening injuries this time, so I think I’m good.”

“I lost a fight with the wall.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Do I look as bad as I feel?”

“I’m still alive.”

“Stop hovering over me.”

“I just can’t leave you alone, can I?”

“I heard a loud crash and just knew you were at the center of it.”

“Why is it always you?”

“You’re paying for a new paint-job”

“You break it, you buy it.”

“It’s like I have to child-proof the planet for you.”

“This isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“There are safety rules for a reason, you know.”

“Do you need help?”

“You did not see that!”

“Yeah, definitely didn’t see you trip over your own feet.”

“I’m fine, stop fussing.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Don’t tell anyone about this. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“You did that on purpose!”

“I swear that wasn’t there earlier.”

“I hope you have some really good insurance.”

anonymous asked:

Hi! Could you do write andreil where Neil leaves Andrew to protect him? Like angst with a happy ending cause Andrew won't let Neil be stupid ! Thank you so much I love your writing!!

thank you thank you, my majestic anon! i know a lot of people have written prompts along these lines before, so i tried to take it in a direction i don’t think i’ve seen. also on AO3.

send me prompts :)


Neil hears Andrew in the kitchen of their Detroit apartment, apparently trying to navigate the cabinet of pots and pans. A loud crash comes just seconds before a hissed, “Shit.” Neil smiles and laughs quietly to himself, returning his attention to the Exy notes he’s working on.

“Shut up,” is thrown harshly from Andrew’s general direction.

Okay. Well, he thought he had laughed quietly.

Neil ignores him and watches King as he jumps up onto the couch beside him. He reaches out to scratch along his spine as Andrew comes around the corner to glare at them both, giant wooden spoon in hand. Neil wonders how much damage Andrew could do with that particular kitchen tool. He has been known to be quite creative.

“Are you going to help, or are you going to continue being useless?”

Neil smirks at him. “Oh, do you need my help? I just assumed you had everything under control.”

Somehow, the glare intensifies. Having thought this feat to be impossible, Neil is pretty impressed.

Andrew turns on his heel to head back into the kitchen. “Get in here,” floats back over his shoulder, like he knows Neil will immediately follow. He’s right.

Neil releases a dramatic sigh as he tosses his notes onto the coffee table, navigating his way around cats and furniture to trail after Andrew. Once he enters the room, he sees that Andrew has hopped up onto the counter and is studiously ignoring him, turning the spoon over and over in his hands.

Neil stares at him until he finally looks up. Andrew simply points to the pile of vegetables on the counter beside him, then over to the cutting board on the drying rack.

“Really? I thought I was offering assistance, not to take over.”

“Like I’d let you take over anything,” Andrew replies, something dangerously close to amusement in his voice.

Neil rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he relents. “What’s your job then?”

Andrew gestures toward the stove with his wooden spoon. It’s a pot of jasmine rice that’s just been set to simmer. That’s it.

“That won’t need any attention for like twenty minutes!” Neil complains, but Andrew just shrugs and looks pointedly over at the cutting board again.

Neil casts his eyes to the ceiling and lets out his second dramatic sigh of the evening, resolving himself to chopping for the foreseeable future. As he turns away to pick out a knife, Andrew grabs his arm and pulls him back to the space between his legs, still dangling over the edge of the counter. Neil smiles and begins to lean closer. Just as Andrew’s mouth opens to ask his yes or no, they are interrupted by three quick knocks on their front door. Andrew raises a questioning eyebrow, and Neil answers with a shrug.

Neil reluctantly pulls away and starts toward the door, counting it as a victory that he kept his third dramatic sigh underwraps. He opens the door, and upon finding no one, sticks his head out into the hallway. His eyes catch on a large manila envelope leaning against wall. He stares. Picks it up. Turns around, and closes the door.

He stops just inside the living room, still staring at the object in his hands. Perfectly innocuous, not suspicious in the least. It shouldn’t fill him with fear and anticipation the way it does.

A second later, the envelope is gone. Neil looks up to see Andrew taking it into the kitchen, opening it along the way. He follows.

Keep reading

youtube

Sweet Tea (2016)

Bright Lights

Pairing: Fred x Reader

A/N: The request ends is basically a spoiler to how the Imagine will end, fair warning!

Request: Can you do an imagine where, after the reader finds out Fred dies, has her moment to deal with it she goes on this rampage with George and once everything is over they return to his body and he is alive? It’s all super fluffy.

Squicks: Fred dies… Or does he?! I got a little bit sad while writing this I will admit, I refuse to accept Fred’s death in my Imagines!


The deafening sounds of loud booms, screams and crashes are the only things you can hear in the castle. You were sprinting through the halls trying to find someone to team up with, since you didn’t want to be alone against Voldemort’s Death Eaters. What would be preferable would be being with Fred and George, your two closest friends, but they were nowhere to be found. You got separated when a giant pillar came crashing down, narrowly missing you and the twins. Since then you hadn’t seen them at all, and were beginning to get more and more fearful without them.

You ran around the huge castle that was slowly crumbling down around you, being sure to step in and help any student who was battling it out with a Death Eater.

“Sectumsempra!” you shouted as red sparks shot out of your wand, hitting the Augustus Rockwood, a Death Eater fighting a young Ravenclaw boy, and causing him to fall to the ground with a disturbing amount of blood appearing.

The boy thanked you repeatedly before you set off again in search of Fred and George — or anyone, really.

You ran around the corner, looking around frantically when a bright blue light grabbed your attention,

You look ahead to see Fred being thrown back across the room, when George begins to scream.

You can’t take your eyes away from Fred’s boy lying on the ground, motionless. It was as if all the deafening noises that were happening all around you were now all muffled and virtually silent. All of your attention, focus and worry was on Fred.

You felt helpless, standing there frozen; until another bright blue spark flashed.

Your head quickly snaps over to where George was now, also lying on the ground, however he was getting up, meaning he dodged the Expulso blast.

You were suddenly filled with anger and bloodlust, as you charged down the hallway, your wand held in front of you.

“Confringo!” you shout, as the orange flash beamed from your wand. There was a loud explosion, causing more rubble to fall from the ceiling, but more importantly, the Death Eater was no more.

“Y/n…” George said quietly, covered in cuts and dried blood.

You look at him, but without saying a word, the two of you immediately sprint towards where Fred was still lying.

“No…” you hear George’s voice crack, as he falls to his knees beside his brother, breaking down into a fit of tears.

Obviously, you were heartbroken. Fred was lying motionless and covered in blood, with no signs of life whatsoever. You couldn’t show how you were feeling, because this was George’s twin brother, you didn’t have the same connection as he did. Fred was your best friend… Maybe even more to you.

You placed a hand on George’s back as he sobbed loudly, while you remained silent letting the tears roll down your cheeks, the severity of the situation slowly becoming more real to you.

“Y/N, GEORGE, MOVE!” Mr. Weasley shouted as more sparks of brightly coloured light flashed all around you. Four or five Death Eaters had found you, and if it hadn’t been for Mr. Weasley, you’d be suffering the same fate as Fred.

You and George jump up immediately, brandishing your wands in front of you, shouting any curse that would come to mind, your vision blurred from the constant flow of tears streaming down your face.

“Incarcerous!”

“Confringo!”

“Sectumsempra!”

“Stupefy!”

The three of you successfully knocked out the Death Eaters in front of you, with no serious injuries to any of you.

“Y/N!” George shouted, and as you turned around, Bellatrix Lestrage was standing no more than ten meters away, a curse already flying towards you in a matter of brightly lit sparks.

“Protego!” Fred shouted, leaping in front of you just in time to block the curse.

Mrs. Weasley quickly cast the Avada Kedavra curse at Bellatrix before any more spells could come from her want, resulting in her falling straight to the ground, eyes wide and empty of life.

FRED!” you scream with a sense of overwhelming delight, as he falls onto you. George runs over too and engulfs his brother in an impossibly tight hug, before Mr. Weasley demands that everyone give him room, however Fred held onto your hand.

“Oh my god, you’re alright,” you say breathlessly as you sit on the ground with Fred, his face smiling slightly through the pain.

After about an hour of everyone crying with relief and assessing the damage done to Fred (nothing more serious than a broken leg and deep cuts), you and George were free to hug the hell out of him.

After Fred let the two of you fuss over him and continuously thank Merlin that he wasn’t dead, he finally spoke to you,

“Y/n…” Fred says with great difficulty, the shock of the blast still having winded him, “I don’t… want to lose.. you… again” he wheezes, taking hold of your hand again.

“We thought you were dead for the past half hour and the first thing you do is tell Y/n you fancy her, honestly I—“

“Shut up George!” you interrupt loudly swatting in his direction, “let him profess his undying love for me!”

Fred laughs, and then immediately regrets it when the pain shoots through his body, causing a series of groans and swear words.

“Look what you’ve done George…” you say quietly, giving George a teasing smile.

“Y/n I do… Love you…” Fred says quietly.

“You look down at him, your brow slightly furrowed, “you what?”

Fred tries to repeat himself, but he ends up coughing violently instead, followed by more swearing and coughing,

“Don’t make me repeat it,” he says almost inaudibly fast, “Just accept… it… and maybe.. kiss me… it’s up… to you…”

For the second time, you were practically frozen, not knowing how to react.

“This is exactly what you wanted, just kiss him for God’s sake we all know you want—“

“yES thank you George,” you say loudly with a smile of mock-annoyance,

“Fine, I’ll.. do it… Christ…” Fred says as he slowly lifts himself onto one shoulder, his other hand shakily rests on the back of your head as he pulls you down towards him, and kisses you.

“Oh, yep, I’m going to.. I’m going to go over here now,” George mumbles as he goes over to stand with his Mum and Dad.

You two finally pull away, a smile on both of your faces,

“I don’t want to lose you again either, Freddie,” you say, tears rolling down your face from what has been quite possibly the most intense amount of emotions anyone could ever have in the space of no more than two hours.


A/N: aw :) also, I’m really overwhelmed by the amount of notes some of my Imagines have gotten of late, my first ever Imagine from back in 2015 received OVER A THOUSAND NOTES?!?!?!? I am in utter shock honestly, thank you all so very much!

When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground, it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or when a picture falls off the wall, it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it’s completely silent. You would think that for something so important, it would make the loudest noise in the whole world, or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a symbol or the ringing of a bell. But it’s silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.
—  Cecelia Ahern, If You Could See Me Now
  • Keith: *in a stereotypical white girl voice* Wait, lemme go to the bathroom.
  • Noah: Are you saying only females of the white race urinate?
  • Keith: Yes.
  • Olivia: I am an asian female and i can back this up, i haven't urinated since 1902.
  • Noah: How old are you?
  • Olivia: 23
  • Keith: *whispering* How long have you been 23?
  • Courtney: I know what you are
  • Courtney: Say it. Say it out loud.
  • Shayne, crashing through a wall: WILDCATS
3

People are loving this thundersnow!

The blizzard pounding parts of the Northeast United States is bringing out love for an evasive weather phenomenon: Thundersnow.

As the storm hit, people across the Northeast reported with glee, spottings of thundersnow — a thunderstorm with snow instead of rain.

What is thundersnow?

It seems odd to celebrate a storm that canceled flights and closed schools, but people are embracing the special feeling of hearing a loud thunder crash during a roaring blizzard. Plus, who could forget Weather Channel hypeman Jim Cantore’s epic thundersnow celebration from 2015?

New Love, Same Song

Requested

Here’s the song

*Sherlock-centric

______________________________________________________________

“You ASSHOLE!”

John was very startled to hear a loud crashing sound coming from above him, followed by indistinct shouting and hard footsteps. The shouting was in two tones: yours and your boyfriend’s. Soon, the sound of objects being thrown down the steps rang out, followed by tripping footsteps and the slamming of the door.

John stood and peered out the door, finding some books, a pair of shoes, and a coat laying in the hall. The man he’d come to know as your boyfriend was coming down the stairs, gathering his stuff. He shot a look at John before sheepishly sneaking down the rest of the stairs, not even bothering to put his shoes or coat on.

John turned back to Sherlock who hadn’t moved a muscle during any of the commotion. He was still spread out on the couch, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Sherlock asked, eyes remaining closed.

“Do you think we should go see what’s wrong?”

“He was cheating on her.”

“What?”

“With his sister’s friend.”

“How do you–”

“It was obvious.”

“And you didn’t tell her?”

Sherlock’s eyes opened, staring at the ceiling. “I thought I did.”

John shook his head. “We should go see if she’s all right.”

“Mm.” Sherlock’s eyes drifted closed again. “Go tell her we’ll take her out for copious amounts of alcohol tonight.”

“You… you want to get her drunk?”

“Is that not standard procedure for this situation?”

‘Well,’ John thought as he headed up to your flat. ‘When Sherlock’s right, he’s right.’

______________________________________________________________

John looked at his watch. Quarter til midnight.

“I’m going to go,” he said, standing and putting his coat on. “I’ve got work in the morning.”

“Not til eleven,” Sherlock pointed out.

“Sherlock,”

“Come on, John,” you slurred. “Staaaaaay. I’m going through mourning.”

“You didn’t even like the asshole,” John said with a smile.

“I didn’t say I was mourning him. I’m mourning the time I spent with him. It’s gone and I’ll never get it back.” You leaned back, pressing your hand to your head (and almost falling from your stool). “Oh, woe is me.”

John turned to Sherlock. “Don’t let her drink much more, yeah? And get her some water, especially once you get home.”

“Of course.”

You and Sherlock stayed at the bar for another two hours. As the bartender called for last call, Sherlock led you out into the street, hailing a cab. He carefully shoved you into the backseat before sliding in after you.

“Ohmigod I looooooove this song!” you cried as the cab trundled down the road. You began to sing along, somehow remembering all the words even in your state.

Back at Baker Street, Sherlock led you upstairs. He found your keys in your purse and unlocked your door, leading you through your flat into your bedroom. You flopped onto the bed, face first. Sherlock knew you should be laying on your side, should you vomit in the middle of the night. But every attempt he made at situating you failed, as you immediately rolled back over.

Sherlock shimmied out of his coat, draping it over a chair. He propped some pillows along one side of you before sitting behind you, keeping you up on your side. He watched your back rise and fall, sound asleep.

It was already the wee hours of the morning. Sherlock knew he needed to remain vigilant until mid-morning.

Good thing he didn’t require much sleep.

______________________________________________________________

“Would you consider yourself the most logical man in London?”

Sherlock barely glanced up as you flounced into his flat. “Of course. How else would I solve all the cases for the police?”

“Okay, well, I desperately need some of your logic.”

Sherlock looked up, not saying anything. You began to pace back and forth, your hands wringing.

“They offered me a promotion at work. And I know promotions are good, they show that the company places value on me and the work I do. And it could open doors to higher positions.”

“Correct.”

“But I feel like a promotion will hold me back. I didn’t want to stay there for the rest of my career. But if I take this promotion, I’ll feel stuck; surely I can’t leave if they value me so much, right?”

“I suppose.”

“But if I don’t take the promotion, it could show that I’m lazy and that I don’t have any interest in the company. That I’m fine where I am and never want to improve myself.”

Never having been in that position, Sherlock said nothing. He watched you pace back and forth a bit more. Silently, he stood and picked up his violin.

You stopped your pacing as the first few notes floated over to you. Your ears pricked up, turning to find Sherlock watching you, his bow moving seamlessly over the strings.

“Is… is that…”

The smallest of smiles lifted Sherlock’s mouth. He’d spent his time practicing, learning to play that song from the drunken cab ride on the violin. The fact that you recognized it showed that he had perfected it.

Your eyes stayed on Sherlock as you slowly stepped over as if drawn hypnotically. You watched his hands, awe filling your face. As the song ended, Sherlock held the violin up to his shoulder, wondering what would happen next.

“Sherlock Holmes,” you said softly, a smile on your face. “So full of surprises. What am I going to do with you?”

“Sing along next time?”