oh well i sent her an email

BunnyRibbit: Facetime

[You got it, my dude. Though…it turned out a little long for a flash piece.]

           I’m here now, okay? Don’t leave yet! Hana was hastily texting as she got into her apartment, throwing her keys aside. Her computer was already on—naturally—so it just took a quick shake of her mouse to wake it up. Drills had gone on way longer than they should’ve, which meant that rather than having plenty of time to get home and clean up a little, she was already late for her planned Skype call with Lúcio. Their time zones were exactly twelve hours apart, so mid- afternoon for her was three in the morning for him. Still, he had answered her last few texts saying he would wait, so she figured this was better than nothing.

           Are you still up? she typed quickly as she got her webcam working.

           I’m here, don’t worry, Lúcio responded. He video called her, and she answered with a wide smile. Of course she knew he wouldn’t care that she was still in work mode, but she couldn’t help feeling bad regardless. When he saw her, he smiled back, and her stomach filled with warmth. “They’re really working you out there, huh?”

           “No kidding,” she said. “It wasn’t even a MEKA day. I’m exhausted—but I’m glad to see you! I’m sorry for making you stay up so late.”

           “It’s cool. I’ve had concerts keep me up later,” he assured her. When her eyes fell on his shirt, her smile widened.

           “Nice PJs, nerd,” she mumbled, though she was honestly pleased to see him sporting her B.Ny logo. It was one of her favorite designs, too! Had she told him that? Or did they just have similar tastes? 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

okay but just for the sake of fairness, Knight (as well as others I'm sure, probably) were also in high school when they joined the national team

Oh yeah all the high school seniors they’ve asked are on the U-18 team, it’s just funny to me. Picture a teenage girl sitting down, going through her email, seeing what USA Hockey sent her, then tweeting out that she’s turning them down? Not only is that a funny visual for me, it’s also pretty impressive. These girls (who are like my age btw) are turning down what could be their only shot to be on Team USA and represent their country on an international stage. That takes guts, bc they are probably going to face some consequences for that, like never making the team at all, even if they could. So, it’s funny, impressive, and it’s great how USAH is getting told to shove it by teenage girls who want to be paid when they get on the national team, dammit! 

Extra (Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Reader)

Anonymous requested:

two extras have to sit across from each other and pretend to converse at a restaurant on the set of a movie. but the fake conversation turns to real conversation and they are really into each other and the director calls cut because they are distracting from the actual characters who are supposed to be the ones making eyes and looking like they’re falling in love, not a couple of random extras with fem!reader x Aaron Taylor Johnson, please?


  • Words:  923
  • Pairing: Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Reader
  • Warnings: None
  • Author notes: (Y/N) is your name, (Y/L/N) is your last name

Originally posted by allthisnheaventoo

The acting business was not your favorite, but you needed the money and they were needing some extras for a movie; well, it was actually only a scene and it took place in a small cafe, it was very nice indeed and luckily it was real and you could get to order (for free) food or anything you wanted.
 
“Hey, I’m (Y/N)” you greeted a woman with a folder on her hands “and I came for the extra thing… I sent an email yesterday and they told me I could come”
“Oh, yes! Thanks for coming” She greeted back “please, go to hair and makeup and then you can change your clothes if you want to”
 
She pointed a place outside the cafe. After the whole hair and make-up (in which you got nothing because they said you were fine) you went for something else to wear, but the clothes were definitely not your style. There you saw a guy; he was tall, a bit muscly but not insanely. He had short, dark hair and a beautiful smile. You replied the smile and went to say hi.
 
“Hi, are you an actor?” You asked. “If you count an extra as an actor, then I am an actor” he joked “I’m Aaron” He held out his hand to shake yours.
“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you” You said with a smile.
“Ok, actors, extras, I need everybody here, please!” The director called “For this scene I need two couples of extras. You two” he pointed at other couple, a red haired girl and an Asian looking guy “and you two as well” He pointed at Aaron and you “I need you to be talking to each other. About whatever. I don’t care about what, just talk to the other”
“We’ll start in 5 minutes, so you can order something if you like” The woman you greeted when you arrived said to everyone.
 
You and Aaron sat in front of the other and the scene began.
 
“So how did you get here?” You asked.
“An aunt knows the director and she told me they were looking for extras” He explained. His voice was soft and it captivated you (of course it had nothing to do with the fact that was he incredibly handsome and charming) “and you?”
“I saw the paper on the street, I sent an email and here we are” you shrugged “have you lived here in (Y/C) for long? Because in guessing you your accent that you’re not from around”
“I arrived here a year ago, more or less” he giggled “but I still haven’t seen everything’s this place has to offer… Although… I don’t think I need to see much more” He flirted and you felt your cheeks turning a bright pink “you and I should go out sometime”
“Uhh… Y-yeah, sure” you agreed nervously “we should”
“Does this count as a first date?” Oh, Mr. Flirty was putting all his stuff out there. “Or I should ask for another, a proper one?”
“Perhaps we should get to know the other first” You bit your lip nervously.
CUT!” The director yelled. He wasn’t much happy “The two of you” He talked and pointed at Aaron and you “I get the idea of having you two talking to each other and everything but you’re kinda distracting for the rest of the crew. Can you get your stuff together and act as extras, please?” You both nodded nervously and muttered your apologies. The director called action again and you two started talking again, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“This is all your fault” you jokingly scolded Aaron.
“Sorry” he chuckled and sipped his strawberry juice “sorry to ask this, and considering that I’ve been trying to flirt with you the whole scene, do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, or whatever?”
“No, neither a girlfriend nor a boyfriend”
“Shut up. That’s not true” you nodded again with your lips curled into a smile “how come you don’t have one? You’re gorgeous, funny and have good conversation, you can’t be single”
“Long story short, I’m quite picky. My heart’s not for anyone. I want a guy that’s-”
“Like me? Oh, stop it you” He faked embarrassment “you’re too nice and flattering, (Y/N)”
“Stop it!” You scolded, giving him a soft slap on his trained arm.
 
After the whole recording ended, you and Aaron got out of the set together. He held you tightly as you claimed to be a little cold; he offered you his jacket, but you had to say no because if not, he’d be the one freezing, and you used that excuse so he could keep you really close.
 
“Well, this is my place” You said nervously at the door of your apartment complex “I don’t know if you want to come inside” You bit your lip nervously.
“I think I’ll pass for now, but I’ll pick you up for the date you owe me” He winked at you and gave you his flirty smile you were starting to love “It was nice to meet you, (Y/N)”
“Yeah, I’m very nice. I know that” You giggled “Well… You know where I live so… I guess this is a… Until I see you again”
 
He cupped your right cheek in his left hand and kissed the corner of your lips. You shivered under his sudden touch but you didn’t do much than that. You wanted to see him again, so you two could have that proper kiss he aimed to.

series: kagerou project

pairing: kuroshin (well, kuroha and xxtaro in a scenerio in which sexual things and extreme violence happen)

warnings: noncon, graphic depiction of suicide, extreme neck trauma, gore, referenced self-harm, major character death

notes: if you enjoyed this, likes and reblogs would make me sososo happy and keep me motivated as an author… thanks…

anyway (deep breath) I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY 

( ao3 link, if you prefer )

1. try and make this pretty

In the end, it’s so easy it feels like a dream.

Hell knows why he does it. Shintaro just needs to be alone today, needs space enough to grieve, at least. Most days, standing up to hobble to his computer is enough of an effort. Today he has to force himself to even breathe.

The infection on his computer doesn’t seem to get it, of course.

Well- maybe it’s partly his fault, for telling her to shut up constantly anyway- like the boy who cried wolf, he’s dug his own grave. In honesty, her pestering is a comfort any other time, and at least their bickering has stopped his voice cracking from lack of use. It’s not like she knows, either. He’s never told her much about Ayano. The date means nothing to her except another long twelve hours begging the heap of flesh and clothes called Shintaro Kisaragi to eat, wash, at the very least reach for the week-old cola bottle under his bed. In her little pixelated world, the days must blend into one; Shintaro lying sprawled on his mattress, the hoodie he’s been wearing for more than a week now sticking to his skin whenever he shifts or turns, drenched in sweat and blood and other things. For maybe ten minutes, four or five times an hour, incessant chatter buzzes through his ears, mingling with the faint cries of cicadas outside somewhere. He closes his eyes.

“Get up, master!”

A girl with black hair, in the seat across the aisle.

“Come on, rise and shine! Don’t you want to check your email? I’m gonna read it if you don’t…”

She’s grown somewhat. Even though they’re sitting down, he can see that she’s taller now, and her hair’s grown out a bit, tied back in a messy ponytail. She turns to him, and her smile seems to fit her face better than it used to.

“Well, okay, let’s see! First your personal emails, fufufu. Ah, what’s this one? A subscription to a hentai site!? Ehh! Master is so rotten!”

Hesitantly, he finds himself smiling back. This eighteen-year-old Ayano is more beautiful than ever, but all his nerves and awkwardness have evaporated with the simple relief of her existence. He helped her, that day she was crying. He walked her home and everything was alright again.

“Umm… oh, master, really? I think this one actually thinks you’re a dirty old man- look, they sent you an ad about ‘pleasure for older gents’…”

Ene’s voice is nothing, just cicada song. Neither he nor Ayano pay it any attention as they grin at each other, and Ayano takes out some paper.

“Ew, I’m just weirded out, now. I’m gonna hit up your journal, okay?”

The way her hands move as she folds it is captivating, and he wonders, not for the first time, if he might love her. Pale skin brushes lightly over paper-white, warps the printed lines into the feathers of wings.

“You haven’t updated in ages, master!”

Her words appear as messy pencil scrawls on the paper crane, and Shintaro shakes his head a fraction, irritated that they’ve made it in. Of course he hasn’t; not since she came, and this is why. Not in a year.

In his daydream, he frowns, and Ayano laughs in Ene’s high-pitched voice.

“What is this? Poetry?”

His eyes snap open.

‘Shut up’ might have been enough, with that look on his face, but he finds himself getting to his feet, crossing unsteadily to his desk. Ene brightens visibly, and he notes that she hasn’t even opened his email program. He doesn’t care. He has nothing on his mind except Ayano, and he won’t let a computer program tarnish her.  He opens the system files and her smile drops slightly.

“…Master?”

It takes a while to find her. The file’s well hidden, under a rare file extension and a string of meaningless letters somewhere at the back of the computer. She tries to stop him, tries to grab the cursor and force it away, but he rams it into her body, flinging her to the other side of the screen. By the time he reaches the folder her data is in, she’s resorted to desperate pleading.

He etches her distraught, frenzied face into his mind, and clicks ‘delete’.

Her eyes flicker into something deeply sad as her tiny body glitches out of existence, and then there’s no sound except the gentle whirr of his hard drive, slow and lazy in the stinking heat of his room.

For a while, he stays slumped in his chair, staring at the screen as his mind works to process what he’s done. Then, giddy and outside himself, he stands. The world is edged with a pleasant fog, and his ears ring with total, drowning silence as he stumbles back to his bed.

Ene.

He can’t remember the last time he cried, really cried- but his eyes itch and sting, and, when he tries to blink away the discomfort, hot, salty water burns trails down his cheeks.

I’m a murderer.

He already was, though, wasn’t he? What was it, if not murder, when he left his only friend to cry alone in an empty classroom without so much as a greeting?  What was it when he let two heads, made small against the expanse of blue around them, dip beneath the waves and fall from view that day? This is only one more name to paint on the headstones, another body to fill the mass grave in his head. Will she land by Takane? Or will she lie with Haruka? Will Ayano’s ghost be there to sing her to sleep?

Shintaro has always been neutral, when it comes to a stance on the death penalty.  Let villains and judges do what they do best, and leave it to the courts to make a wrong decision. Yet now- he sees the simple brilliance of it.

 Something in his brain clicks decisively, like a light going off.

Scissors are all he can think of. He keeps a good, sharp pair in a drawer beside his bed, uses it to scratch meaningless lines onto his unwashed body as if they might scrape the filth from him. When he’s considered this before, he imagined pills, or a bathtub filled with cold water; but in the end, it’s more fitting to die here, in this room, slowly and brutally and by his own hand.

As he lifts the blade, a dark and rotten part of him hopes his mother will cry at his funeral.

It sinks through his skin as if plunging into mud. He expected it to take more than that, somehow- slicing his arms open always takes a while, a few strokes at least- but his neck is tender and the skin breaks easily. Pushing the blade further in is a struggle, as his body begins to jerk into action, doing everything it can to stop his hands, but he soldiers on, relentless, digging for an artery. He finds himself taking a vague, scientific interest in the anatomy of his throat. The pain is so intense that it may as well be blending into one, but nonetheless he can pick out different patches and waves of it when he moves the scissors side to side or opens them to stretch the wound- there, he thinks he tore his vocal cords, and there, the blade glanced off the side of his Adam’s apple. His hands start to shake too violently to contain, and the scissors drop from his fingers. A bubble of blood leaves his lips with a croak.

And then- as he falls backwards- the ceiling warps, and opens its mouth.

He thinks at first that it’s showing him Hell, but he’s never heard anything about Hell opening in a dying boy’s bedroom, or about it twisting, black and gigantic, into the form of a snake. The snake only stays for a split second. By the time it lands on his carpet, it’s already taken the form of a man. One he recognises.

His lips work furiously as he tries to mouth:

“Konoha?”

The man- or snake?- straightens up. From what he can see at this angle, it really does look like Konoha; but its hair is stained black, and it’s dressed in startling shades of grey and yellow. Shintaro is reminded distinctly of the stripes on a wasp. A warning sign, set on soft fabric.

It might be his brain failing him, but when it speaks, its words make no sense:

“Ah, ah, Shintaro. You ruined things again, you know. And I’m bored now until the next game, so…” the snake grins nastily, “shall we make my personal entertainment your first, and last, contribution to this world?”

It crosses the room in a single, animalistic bound, crouching at the end of the bed like something feral. Shintaro can feel blood trickling past his lips as he tries to smile. No matter who or what this is, there’s nothing anyone can do to or for him, now- in a few minutes, he’ll fall asleep forever.

But the snake smiles right back. Its black tongue swipes around Konoha’s lips, nibbles the edges of them as if in deep thought. It’s sizing up a piece of prey, Shintaro realises dimly, and he’s got half a mind to laugh at it for picking at carrion.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening when it grabs his face, digs black nails into his bloodstained cheeks. Its hands are clumsy and everywhere, clawing and grabbing and pulling as if it doesn’t know how to use them, and he can feel hot breath on his skin. He tries to squirm away (because being this close to someone is new and uncomfortable and weird) but it grips his sides and digs its nails in deeply, holding him in place as if his neck wound wasn’t pinning him there already. It seems pointless, anyway, because a moment later its weight lifts and it draws back a little. His mind is too foggy to process that it’s ripping off its clothing; he thinks at first that it’s shedding its skin. He squints, trying to dispel some of the fuzziness clouding his vision.

He still can’t see it perfectly, but the strange, breathless laughter that’s coming from the snake in bouts suits its lazy crouch somehow. Accompanying the laughter is the sound of something slick, and after a moment Shintaro realizes that it’s Konoha’s hand, pressed between his legs and moving in time with the laughter of his possessor. For the first time since he raised the scissors to his throat, fear courses through him.

The snake pulls its hand away with a satisfied hiss. Shintaro tried to back away as it crawls towards him, but his heart’s beating blood out of his body faster and faster, rendering him incapable of anything but weak and jagged movement. It notices and slows down somewhat, kissing his hands as it slides its own up his torso, apparently savouring the chance to mock him with tenderness. He can feel the heat of Konoha’s cock pressed against his stomach, thick and solid and slightly curved, can feel the weight of his balls through his clothing as the snake moves up his body to shower the top of his head with kisses.

“That didn’t take long at all, did it?” It murmurs in his ear. “This body is so much fun.” It presses a final kiss to his scalp and raises itself up to look at him, eyes brimming with yellow madness. “And it can last a long, long time. The question is- how about you?”

He expects it to remove is clothing, but it doesn’t, instead yanking his hoodie down further around the collar, inspecting the gash he made. It bends down, and, oh-so-gently, presses a tiny kiss to the centre of it, sending his body into another series of pained convulsions.

Stop,” he tries to say, “let go.” The most he manages is a frightened whisper, and the snake shushes it with a kiss on the lips.

Then it grabs his chin. Tips his head back. Its body is moving again, upwards, pressing against him and leaving smears of white-grey among the bloodstains.  Shintaro starts to tremble violently. Surely- surely it’s not about to do what he suddenly feels, with creeping horror, it intends to- and it stops, position odd and skewed, and Konoha’s lean stomach is inches from his eyes. Warm flesh pokes at the still-bleeding stab wound, stained with beads of precum that sting like fire, and he spasms, mouth opening in a silent plea.

With a jerk of its stolen hips, it pushes into his throat.

The pain is indescribable. He gags and thrashes as his body works furiously to push the foreign object out, biting down on his own tongue hard enough that it bleeds- but the snake just laughs, sliding in deeper. The underside of its shaft squeezes past his thyroid gland and he almost passes out. He feels what’s left of his- superior thyroid artery, it must be- rip, and his eyes roll back in his head. The snake pulls out, then thrusts in again. Tears spill helplessly from Shintaro’s  eyes and from beyond it, somewhere, he hears a voice filled with mirth:

“In some ways, the folds of the vocal cords are almost like those of the labia- if you ever get a chance to do this, next time, you really should try it. You’ve seen enough dead bodies, after all…”

Konoha’s hand reaches down to fist Shintaro’s hair, force his head further backwards to bury his dick to the hilt. It punctures through to his carotid artery and Shintaro’s body spasms violently, blood and chunks of- whatever else- spraying from his mouth. His tongue sticks out uncontrollably. The urge to gag or vomit overwhelms him, hit by wave after wave of choking nausea unable to pass the obstruction of his windpipe.  He feels something tear as he tries to bite, jaw working furiously, stuttering and halting like a broken machine, and now the curve of Konoha’s cock is working around his tongue from underneath, veins scraping against his tonsils as the tip pushes out into his mouth. The smell and taste of blood is more concentrated now than anything he’s ever known and he lets it wash over his being, unable to even close his eyes and scream.

He’s dizzy. So, so, dizzy, and so, so tired. It barely registers when white spatters his tongue and dribbles from his mouth. Even the pain of it is dull, somehow detached from him and not his any longer. With intense relief, he realises that, at last, he might be about to die.

He tries to smile as his heart stutters and fails. He hopes that Ene will reprimand him, if he somehow ends up seeing her in the afterlife.  He hopes that Ayano will forgive him.

He hopes the semen won’t come up on his autopsy report. 

How they pack


As requested by anon. :)


Let’s say Bleach characters were going away on vacation. What sort of packers would they be?


1. Ishida: Brings extras of everything

Extra socks, extra pants, extra underwear, and THREE extra capes.

Ichigo: You know they have stores where we’re going, right?

Ishida: PREPARATION IS HIGHLY IMPORTANT


2. Ichigo: Stuffs things into a bag at random

And yet, somehow, he always seems to have exactly what he needs.

Ichigo: Raining, huh?

Ichigo: I wonder if I brought an umbrella.

Ichigo: Yup!

Ishida: BUT HOW


3. Renji: Always manages to forget socks

Just, always.

Renji: Aw, come on!


4. Rukia: Packs light (and borrows everything she needs from her host)

And by “borrows,” I mean “steals.”

Rukia:could pack pajamas.

Rukia: Or I could just borrow my hostess’ pajamas!

Rukia: That’s way more efficient!


5. Matsumoto: Has trouble leaving any clothes at home

She just hates not being prepared for every and any clothing situation.

Matsumoto: Like, what if there’s a cocktail party? What if we go hiking? What if there’s a flamenco dance competition?

Hitsugaya: I’M TELLING YOU - LEAVE THE RED-SEQUINED DRESS AT HOME


6. Bazz-B: Brags about only needing to pack 1 of everything

You really don’t want to sit next to Bazz-B on a flight.

Bazz-B: And I have only ONE T-shirt!

Bazz-B: And ONE pair of socks!

Bazz-B: And ONE pair of underwear!

Bazz-B: I am the best packer in the world!


7. Kenpachi: Never seems to have enough room in his suitcase

He doesn’t even pack that much. But whenever he goes to put something in his suitcase, there is always less room than he remembers.

Kenpachi: Well I guess I don't have to bring the hairspray.


8. Yachiru: Likes to hide candy in Kenpachi’s suitcase

She’d put it in hers, but that one’s full (of candy).

Yachiru: “Socks” are just another word for “candy holder”!


9. Hitsugaya: Has a detailed packing list

He shared it with everyone via email. Just to be helpful.

Hitsugaya: I sent two copies to Renji.


10. Omaeda: Mostly cares about packing enough snacks

The rest, he figures, will take care of itself.

Omaeda: There is really nothing worse than being hungry during travel!

Soi Fon: Oh how your seat mates must hate you.


11. Soi Fon: Is the world’s most efficient packer

She developed the technique herself.

Soi Fon: There! Three weeks’ worth of clothing and supplies, in a 6-inch square cube!

Omaeda: But how


12. Byakuya: Rolls his clothing

He his discovered that this is the best way to take up as little space as possible without wrinkling your clothes.

Byakuya: Must better than my previous method.

Byakuya: Which involved bringing an iron.


13. Szayel: Does a lot of research

He likes to find out exactly the climate and customs of the places he is going, to make sure he packs exactly the right things.

Szayel: I used to send my brother ahead so as to collect data through the equipment implanted in him.

Szayel: Now, unfortunately, I have to use the internet.


14. Yumichika: Fills his suitcase with beauty products

Because only barbarians use hotel soaps and shampoos.

Yumichika: I am not an animal. 


15. Ikkaku: Stuffs some underwear into a fanny pack and calls it good

Ikkaku is pretty sure that fanny packs are cool.

Yumichika: YOU ARE WHY PEOPLE LIKE MATSUMOTO THINK WE’RE GROSS

Ikkaku: What


16. Hinamori: Agonizes about which books to bring

It’s just hard to know what sort of mood she’ll be in, once she’s on the trip.

Hinamori: Adventure? Biography? Romance? Sci-fi?

Hinamori: Maybe I should just bring them all!

Shinji: Is this why your suitcase is always a million pounds?


17. Shinji: Agonizes about which CDs to bring

It’s hard to know what sort of music he’ll want to listen to, once he’s on the trip.

Shinji: [staring at his giant CD tower]

Hinamori: We really need to get you an iPod.


18. Grimmjow: Keeps going back for stuff he forgot

It’s not unusual for Grimmjow to run back and forth two or three times.

Grimmjow: Shit! Hair gel!

Grimmjow: Dammit! Tootpaste!

Grimmjow: Fuck! My ticket!


19. Riruka: Has trouble leaving cute things at home

As a kid, she always wanted to take all of her stuffed animals. As an adult, that is still the case.

Riruka: So good I have that shrinking ability, really.


20. Yukio: Just brings his Playstation Vita and a credit card

And then buys everything else that he needs.

Yukio: I don’t understand why anyone bothers with luggage.

Finally got room information!

Yay I’m in a second floor double with lots of windows and closets and it’s big and I’m all of the excite. And the dorm has a kitchen.

It also has a TV lounge, so yeah I might be stealing that to watch the 49er’s play on Sunday and also the Superbowl. Any other gals that might be interested?

The walk from my dorm to the barn is kind of far but whateva

YAY ROOMS

befitandchase  asked:

Because I'm overworked and need a break from writing, how 'bout some Olicity and failed sexting?

I normally do these things in order (well try to) but I just couldn’t get this idea out my head!!! SO yes I had to write this… Oh and yes I actually don’t use text language so I didn’t here either… I hope it makes sense, and hopefully makes you laugh :).

Also I’m posting this before I go out tonight so yes ENJOY!


Prove it.

It was a crazy busy day. Ever since she had learnt she owned Palmer Technologies and Oliver refused to take it back from her. She had been working so hard to bring it back to its former glory under the Queens name. So now she was sat in the CEO office, staring at so much paper work she had already had enough after all her morning meetings suddenly her phone beeped. Olivers name instantly made her smile.

Can’t wait to see you later ;)

Don’t think I can make lunch sorry, so much work to do

Oh… That’s a shame…

Sorry baby

It’s okay, I was just looking forward to devouring your lips

I’m so sorry, seriously I would if I could

Her phone was silent for a little while, as she turned her attention back to the papers in front of her when suddenly it beeped again.

I want to come over there, rip your clothes off and pound into you. Make you scream my name as you come all over the desk destroying all your paperwork…

She groaned her hands shaking slightly.

Oliver. Stop it! I have that much paper work I don’t even think any of it would get destroyed

That’s what you took from what I just said? Haha

Yes… I want to duck you too, but that’s not looking likely…

Duck? Hahahaha

FUCK! I want to fuck you Oliver… I want you so badly; I want to feel you stretch me, to bend me over the desk.

Her free hand fell to her breast, the floor was empty her assistant had gone to sort out some more paperwork. So she allowed herself this moment.

What are you wearing?

Doesn’t matter…

Oh yeh it does ;)

Just an orange dress

Felicity you’re not helping here, I’m so painfully hard right now

Prove it

She sent it before she even had time to think, she clenched her thighs closed at just the thought of him gloriously naked. Just then there was a tap on her door, her hand flew from her breast as she looked up to see Diggle striding in.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Well someone said you might not get lunch so I am here to deliver it.” He handed over a brown paper bag and she happily took it placing it on the table. Her phone buzzed as Oliver replied, Diggles eyes glanced at the screen and she flipped it before he had a chance to see anything.

“Thanks John I really appreciate it.”

“Hey it’s Oliver you should thank, he made it.” She beamed then her heart fluttering in her chest. “I’ll see you later Felicity.” He said softly heading towards the exit. She grabbed her phone, turning it around to see an email from Oliver rather than a text. She shook her head as she opened it, the image of his cock in hand so painfully erect made her mouth dry, the dull throb in her centre growing. Then suddenly she saw the email sent to caption. Holy crap he had sent it to her mother as well.

OLIVER! You sent that email to my mother as well!

No way, I didn’t…

Oh yes you did!

Oh crap what am I meant to do?

Suddenly Felicity’s email chimed, Donna Smoak replied.

Oh god she’s replied Felicity!

Slowly she opened the message.

Nice to see my daughter has a VERY big guy taking care of all of her needs.
Even more so to know you two must be having one hell of a sex life.
But next time sweetie, maybe a little less eager and check who you’re sending it to. Mum xo

Felicity stared in disbelief at the message, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Well that certainly killed the mood

Yep, sorry my bad

It’s okay she handled that better than I thought

But I’m never going to live that down am I?

Probably not, maybe sexting shouldn’t be our thing

You’re probably right. I’ll see you later babe

See you later. Oh and thank you for the sandwich Diggle just delivered it. Smells amazing.

Nothing’s too much trouble for you

I love you xoxo

I love you too xoxo

She stared at her phone for a little while longer, before turning back to the paperwork. A soft smile unable to stop spreading as she thought about the man she loved.


Tagging (cause they asked :P): solicity97 arrows-and-winchestersolicitykisses​ smoakinbitch believeinolicity olicityhappyeveraftermissfsmoak​ 0nifs2 letsnevergrowupfanflorence-bubblesgeniewithwifi danglingmaybes98  mel-loves-all procrastinatingfan supersillyanddorky06 scu11y22 smurfica suckmywinniedapoopoo sophie1973 bluemorgana dumplingnooona lumenkaolicityfangirl emilybettqueen tallandfeisty 2manyfandomsfor1url andjustforthismoment thesunshine-in olicity-beautiful-dreamer mabscifiromantic felicitysmoakisaqueen  perfectlyorganizedchaos sensationalsmoak  stereoheart07  purselover2  lou-lou26jucriscar thecountrylover99 ohliverfelicity snowssmoak lindsey8907 olicitylovemaking excusemeforfalling the-heart-thats-lost-control youboughtmeacronut dreamyuniversestuff travelingwinchester finnchesters purdyolicity pleasedontletmedownx pharmalen memcjoemmajadex1989monstarrmann badwolfgirl13 arrowsshootyouforwards jb66 sleepymomma918 lerayon bytemegeekette relativelyobsessedfangirl hisgirlwednesday447 sabahuniverse​ amellsbett loveyoubeyondhope

again if you want to be tagged let me know! or if I miss anyone! Also if you don’t want to be tagged in something either just tell me :)…

(also my tags have been playing up lately so will you let me know if your tag worked or not :/ THANK YOU)

Ouritsu Ouji Gakuen 5 [translation]

Who said ‘pool’? Oh, someone is afraid of water! *call Haru* Okay, joking. This time is the Mermaid Prince who finally reunites with his lovely mermaid. Ah, it’s so much fun to do^^

Ouritsu Ouji Gakuen Vol 5 – Little Mermaid Prince

Namikawa Takumi (CV: Taniyama Kisho) — Nami

Ibaraki Sei (CV: Terashima Takuma) — Ibaraki

Yagyuu Ryunosuke (CV: Morikawa Toshiyuki) – Yagyuu

Keep reading

Title: Match Dot Com 19.0

Summary: Belle and Pongo surprise Rumple by visiting him a day early. While Rumple is at work, Belle spends the day in his apartment for the first time alone with Chip. Goldie Locks and Midnight think they will starve to death. I don’t know why I added that part about the fish in this summary, but they do think they’ll starve to death :)

Rating: NC-17 (Bubble bath sexytimes, just a little.)

Note: This fic is back. YAY! Sorry it took so long to update. I hope this chapter is enjoyably. I found it fun and a lot of things do happen, which is why I think it took so long. Please enjoy and let me know what you think. Happy reading.

Links to the full verse: [ao3 link]


Belle French is in her office at city hall on this slow Wednesday afternoon. She has completed making all of the necessary preparations for next week’s Miner’s Day Festival and now she sits without much to do. Being the mayor is an important job and she positively loves doing it, but being mayor of a small town does make some work days, or even weeks, more uneventful than others.

As much as she hates to think about it, Belle knows that Rumple is at work and with that broom-riding-witch right now, just the very thought of it sends prickly tingles down her spine and goosebumps across the scale of her arms. She is disgusted in the way Zelena treats her boyfriend and menacing ideas of what she wants to do to Zelena comes to mind. They have become a common occurrence for Belle. She’s never really had these type of thoughts about a person, but she’s never really hated anyone either. Having these thoughts running through her mind is leaving a repulsive taste in Belle’s mouth and she needs to know what’s going on with Rumple at this very moment. She removes her phone from the pocket of her skirt suit jacket and texts him from the Equal Match app.

TCup_Chipper: I’m sitting here thinking about you, Pookie. Are you alright at work?

She stares at the screen, waiting for the little notification that he’s typing, but it doesn’t pop up.

TCup_Chipper: Are you alright?

She receives no reply. Usually, it doesn’t bother her when he doesn’t respond quickly, but today it does. She’s bothered by it immensely. All she can think is that something grim is happening to him.

TCup_Chipper: I know you don’t want me worrying about you, but I can’t help it. Please, message me back soon.

She sits the phone on her desks and sighs out, resting her head in her hands. She wishes there was something she could do for Rumple, but she can’t, not while she’s in Storybrooke and he’s in New York. She hates this feeling of uselessness.

Belle pulls herself out of her slow descent into anguish, lifting her head, and decides to distract herself from her thoughts by checking her email. She push the mouse of her desktop computer and the welcome screen appears, then she sits tight for the load to complete.

Waiting for the load, Belle cuts her eyes at her phone, hoping to see a notification on the screen or to hear the buzzing of a call, but nether of those things happen and the cell phone remains deathly still. “Ugh!” she growl and opens the top drawer of the desk, sliding the phone inside. She can’t stand to look at it any longer. She slams the drawer shut and focuses her attention on the computer screen.

Belle clicks on the icon for her personal email and it instantly opens, then she selects the first address that doesn’t look like spam.

From: pan_pan-he-is-our-man@heymail.com
To: a-bookworms-rose@heymail.com

Okay, so I thought if I gave you a bit of time to cool off, you would change your opinion of me. I know you blocked me twice on Equal Match and that’s fine, I’m okay with that, baby. I can understand why you thought what you thought about me, but I’m here to prove you wrong and that Pan (That’s my name btw. You never asked what it was. Which I thought was a little rude on your part. Anyways, I forgive you for that too.) is not a little boy, but in fact a man.

Here is a picture of what you’ve been missing.

Keep reading

Meryl and Maks Recap August 28th and 29th, 2014

Hey guys,  I’m trying to cobble together a quick recap for the last two days  kind of quickly because, unfortunately, I have to work the weekend and holiday.  So, some of this is cut and paste to save some time.

Yesterday was pretty slow.  Brad and Angelina’s publicist announced that they were married last saturday in France without anyone knowing anything.  Pretty significant in our world.  Also, Lizzie retweeted the link to this article, which I found at least worth a mention.

Meryl was very active on SM yesterday.  She definitely seems to want the “sportswoman of the year” award that she is nominated for, so everyone please vote for her.  She and Charlie both made posts about getting ready for “college colors” day.  

Maks posted an IG photo of himself and his Dad out to dinner.  Between last night and today we have learned that his Dad was in LA and went to the new studio today.  It is unclear who was at dinner with these two.  We also know that Maks went to the Warwick.  

Today I got some information about the new DWM studio in Sherman Oaks.  I decided to just call the studio and get some info and this is what I learned:

Dance With Me Sherman Oaks (DWMSO)

So, I got some info from a little birdy and then did some research myself.  Elena Grinenko and her husband Rib Hillis own LA Ballroom Studio in Sherman Oaks.  They are teaming up with Dance With Me (which we already knew) and The new name will be Dance With Me Sherman Oaks (DWMSO).

They are still remodeling, but there is a Grand Opening Party on Wednesday September 10th.  It will be open to the public but they take your info and send you an “invitation”.  The rumor is (and I’m sure it’s true) that Maks, Val, and Tony will be there and that Tony will perform (I’m assuming with Elena).  I put myself on their email list, so I’ll let you know if I get more info.  There may also be a “meet and greet”.

It would be my guess that Maks is still in LA overseeing the final details before the opening.

I called them and asked about the party.  They asked me for my info to send me and invitation, but I’m sure they will use my info to contact me in the future about potential ballroom dance lessons.

 

Alexis is definitely going to go to the opening in all of our steads to scope it out.  The official “e-flyer” was released later in the day.  I think there might also be another member going, but I will have to track that down.

Alexis had some other excitement today as well.  She realized that someone she knows has been to 2 tapings of DWTS last season.  This is the email conversation between herself and her friend.

Me:

So….a little birdie told me you got to see Meryl and Maksim dance….is this true?? Oh, were are my manners. How are you?? So…did ya?? 

Her:

Yes, I saw then dance..TWICE!  Sent from my iPhone

Me:

When? Where? I need details, woman! I have fallen into the rabbit hole big time. I belong to what my daughter tells me is a “ship.” SIGH

Ok…details, please!! Do you mind my sharing with my friends on Social Media? I will NOT use your real name. Promise.

Her:

You are too much! You are asking me to go back into the recesses of my mind! I went to DWTS, once during the season and the season finale! They were amazing! There was definitely chemistry between them. I loved when the won! Tony, Val and Derek couldn’t keep their excitement for Maks! He is gorgeous. She is even  smaller in person! If my friend gets tickets this year, I will keep you in mind! Sent from my iPhone

Her (not originally published ‘cause WHO CARES?):

I also saw Derek and Julianne on tour! Sent from my iPhone

Me:

So sorry about that. J (SMILEY FACE) So…which day did you see? Tango/Freestyle or the win?

Her:

I saw the win!  Sent from my iPhone

Me (NOT ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED):

I figured that out after I sent you the e-mail. Thanks for putting up with me.  Will buy you lunch and pick your brain more at the…. ;-)

Her:

Lol! Sent from my iPhone

Me (Actually sent right b4 I received the above. Got impatient.):

Can’t wait ‘til next meeting. Day’s almost over. I’m sick in the head…Do you think they were/are dating? Did you see ANYTHING couple-y at all?? Ok. That’s it. Promise.

Her:

There is something there! They couldn’t hide it very well, especially Maks!  I haven’t heard it publicly but wouldn’t be surprised when it comes out! Have a great weekend! 

Some further information on her friend, she is not a “shipper” like us:

A friend of a friend who went to the show. Reliable. Not crazy. They apparently LOVE DWTS. Go figure.

The friend who works for DWTS is RADIO SILENT. This is why I don’t believe the folks who say their friend works on the show and saw blah blah blah. Most people I know who work in the industry…and you can’t live in LA and not know AT LEAST ONE…are MUM when it comes to the details. Maybe it’s just my friends, tho.

‘Cause I causally mentioned liking Meryl and Maksim on the phone (this was back in May/June) and got a noticeable PAUSE then a subject change.

Point taken.

In other news.  I was fully expecting Meryl to be spotted today in Michigan based on all of her U of M postings yesterday.  Sure enough, a fan saw her at a Starbucks in MI today.  There was also a tweet from Beaumont Children’s Hospital about looking forward to her and Charlie’s visit.  Maybe that happened today and we’ll hear more about it later.  

That is all for now.  Everyone enjoy your holiday weekend, I will update when I can.

anonymous asked:

olicity + felicity being a private detective hired to find oliver after the email tommy recieved and saving him

AN: Thank you for this wonderful prompt, anon! This is actually going to be a two-shot fic! Between the holiday and the travel I haven’t had much time to write, so part two isn’t finished yet. I do hope you all enjoy this as it was my first time writing Tommy, so it made me a little nervous!

If I got my timing right this is set during Felicity’s MIT days, before Cooper going to prison, so Felicity’s is still a little edgier. 

~~~

“You do realize that I am not an actual private detective?” She asked while pausing her keystrokes to glance at the billionaire sitting beside her.

Tommy Merlyn looked like he had seen better days, which to be fair, he probably had. It was only two years ago that his best friend went missing, or so she read in the tabloids. She had never met Oliver Queen or Tommy Merlyn, but she was familiar with their antics through tabloids, websites, and rumors heard round the college community.

She had never really given either much thought, not even when the Queen’s yacht sunk in the middle of the ocean. Of course she thought it was tragic, for the families, but it never personally affected her. Soon after the yacht sank she saw pictures of Tommy at his best friend’s grave, partying harder than ever, and even one shot of him being bailed out of jail by his father. The stories were everywhere which made it difficult to avoid.

The man beside her, however, wore a creased, blue, button down shirt and khaki pants but appeared as if he hadn’t shaved, or slept, in days. He was a far cry from the man she saw in pictures.

When he contacted her via email he asked for her help, citing her as the best IT genius that he knew, and he didn’t even know her. Tommy said he got her name from some guy he had partied with a year ago as some “badass computer whiz who would one day take over the world.” She thought the title was a little much, but she’d take it.

“You do realize.” Tommy mimicked. “That if I brought this to an actual private detective they would tell me that I was nuts before taking my money to investigate, and then spend a year off the coast of France or somewhere spending my money with no results,” he told her with no humor in his voice as he ran a hand over his face with exhaustion.

“Then how come you didn’t use the IT experts at your father’s company? Tracing this alert is so simple that a trained monkey could do it.” She huffed.

“Oh no,” he said with a light laugh. “My father’s trained monkeys have been ordered not to help me on this. Lucky for you, I’m dedicated.”

She felt for him, she did. His best friend was dead, heartbreakingly so, and then some jerk must have hacked into Oliver’s email account. It was some sick joke that she hoped to put a stop too. Maybe she would drain the persons bank account and donate it to somewhere worthy of the cause.

“Why don’t you go back to your hotel and get some rest?” She tried to assure him. “You look like you could use it.”

“No offense,” he said, but without the bite he probably meant for it to have. “But when your best friend goes missing and then contacts you for help, you see how much rest you get.”

“Ok.” She nodded before turning back to the computer in front of her. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

“Look, I know you don’t believe me,” Tommy told her as he leaned back in the swivel chair beside her.

 “I didn’t say that.” She objected as she continued typing.

Tracing the alerts origination wasn’t exactly difficult, but Tommy Merlyn kept distracting her. He was like a puppy dog who just had to have attention.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. I see the way your eyes do that thing when I talk,” he said with a short laugh before putting his arms behind his head.

Felicity turned to look at him with a glare.

“What thing? My eyes don’t do a thing.” Suddenly she was self-conscious. 

“They do,” he said with a Cheshire like grin. “Granted you can barely see it through that mess of eyeliner you’re wearing. Seriously though, simplicity is better when it comes to makeup.”

“Ok, well thank you for the advice.” She muttered sarcastically. “What thing?”

“Would you keep typing?” He laughed as he gestured to the computer. “Fine, they kind of raise and then shift to the left every time I mention Oliver being alive. It’s subtle, but there.” 

“So if you know that I don’t believe your story, why are you still here?” Felicity asked as she mimicked his posture by leaning back in her chair. “What makes you think I’m not stealing your money and leading you to the south of France or someplace?”

Tommy shrugged in response before leaning forwards in his chair. “Because you have a trusting face, a little scary, but trusting,”

Felicity gave a laugh before turning back to her keyboard and monitor.

“You are quite the charmer, Mr. Merlyn.”

“Oh please, call me Tommy.” Tommy swatted at the formality. “My father is Mr. Merlyn and I am definitely not my father.”

“Well Tommy,” Felicity said, emphasizing his name. “Judging from the IP address, the email was sent from Hong Kong in a local cyber café. I can give you the exact address and you can be on your way.”

Felicity looked over to Tommy, who was staring at the screen with awe on his face. He looked torn between happy and sad, and it was a very different expression for the young billionaire. Felicity thought it made him look more serious … more real.

“He’s really alive,” He murmured to himself.

“Didn’t you already think so? Isn’t that why you had me tracing the email?” Felicity asked, only slightly confused.

If she tried hard enough she could put herself into his shoes. If her father came back she imagined that her face would resemble Tommy’s – Half disbelief, half joy.

“Yeah.” Tommy nodded, but didn’t seem to comprehend her question. “I mean no, I mean I hoped he was alive, but … the Queen’s Gambit went down in the China sea. It’s actually him.”

The smile on his face only grew as he turned to face her, the disbelief gone.

“Or it’s a very intelligent con-man luring you to Hong Kong to isolate you and steal your money. You said it yourself, it is entirely possible that it could be Oliver, which makes it easier to sell the con.” Felicity urged.

While she didn’t know Tommy very well, she imagined that he was too eager for the situation. He missed his friend, which made him an easy target.

“No it’s him, it’s Oliver.” He smiled as he let out an exhale. “But if you’re worried about me, you could go with me, check out the sights, get some dim sum, make sure I don’t get robbed.”

“You’re crazy.” Felicity laughed as she began to scribble the address down on a post-it note beside her mouse.

“That’s up for debate,” Tommy told her but didn’t seem offended at her comment. “But it’d be fun.”

Felicity glanced over at the picture of her and Cooper on her desk. Cooper knew that she had been taking side jobs like this one, but none had involved taking a tip to Hong Kong with a handsome billionaire and handsome billionaire’s ex-shipwrecked best friend.

“Besides the obvious,” Felicity said as she gestured to the school books on her desk. “No, I have midterms.”

“Aww you college girls and your studying,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Well if you’re sure you can’t come then at least take this,”

Felicity watched as Tommy took a slim piece of grey paper out from his wallet.

“It’s a business card,” She observed.

“Wow, MIT really won big when they admitted you.” He joked. “It’s the contact information for Queen Consolidated’s CEO, Walter Steele.”

“Queen Consolidated?” Felicity asked curiously. “Shouldn’t this card have Merlyn Global’s information?”

“No, definitely not.” He told her with a shake of his head. “Giving you my father’s card would be like signing your soul over to the devil, and while you may look rather dark and edgy, I think you have a sweeter side that Merlyn Global would suck right out of you.”

Felicity gave out a laugh before looking back down at the card in her hands. “You speak so highly of your father,”

“It’s probably Freudian, either way it keeps my therapist in business.” He chuckled before catching her eyes. “Well, Felicity Smoak, thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a warm smile in return. “Hey Tommy, your friend is pretty lucky to have you.”

For a moment he paused as he seemed to take her in. He looked around her room at the pictures, the books, and the computer equipment. Tommy felt for his wallet before pulling out a couple hundred dollar bills, their agreed upon asking price.

“You know that’s what I always said.” He joked in return before sobering one more time. “Thank you, Felicity. I won’t be able to arrange the flight plan until tonight, so if you change your mind … my cell number is on the back of that card.” He gave her one last wink before slipping out of her dorm room and into the Massachusetts sun.  

~~~ 

Part 2

anonymous asked:

Laura is being bullied and Carmilla defends her, they're both like 15? And become really close friends after that, and in graduation Laura dedicates her speech to her :3

My hand slipped and this became 7 pages, oops. Hope it satisfies you Anon.

“…Hey cupcake, do you want to go catch a movie?”

“Carm, I can’t. I got to write this essay.”

“You’re still writing that thing?”

“I’ve started over like three times.” You’re worrying your lower lip while you stare at the screen, phone tucked right under your ear. Other than the title (My Four Years at Silas) you’re stuck.

“Laura, just dump it. You can bang out a three page paper in five minutes after we get back.”

“I can’t just bang out a paper. You know that.”

“I’m sorry, Honor Society. I forgot that you freak out whenever you get anything below an A-.”

“Look, I promise, tomorrow we’ll go and see whatever movie you want.” You answer. “I am asking you as your best friend to give me the night off from the usual best friend stuff, okay? It’s my last high school essay. I want it to be good.”

“….Fine. I guess I’ll watch netflix with a jar of nutella instead.”

“You can go with Elsie. Aren’t you guys ‘casual-dating’?”

“Eh, not sure about it anymore. She’s starting to bore me.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be hanging out with me so much then,” you tease, “I’m so weird no one is going to look interesting by comparison.” You can almost see Carmilla smiling on the other end of the line.

“Goodnight, cutie..”

“Promise me you’ll try and have fun without me?”

“Done.” The line clicks and you’re left alone.

One essay. A summary of your four years of high school. It’s different from journalism, where you have a specific topic and story and you’re just summarizing it. Now the vagueness–anything, as long as it has to do with the four years you’ve had at Silas–makes it impossible. You’re about to procrastinate with an illegal download of Buffy when you get another phone call. The caller ID reads ‘broody gay’.

“Carmilla, what is it?”

“I almost forgot. Check your email for some pictures.”

“Oh my god,” you almost squeal, “You sent pictures for the scrapbook?” You guys aren’t going to see each other all summer. The digital scrapbook was your idea to get through it. Carmilla had called it ‘diabetes inducing just thinking about it’. But it looks like she changed her mind.

“Yeah, well, consider it a graduation gift cupcake. The pictures are nothing special anyway, mostly selfies–”

“Of course they’re special,” you say firmly, “They’re of us.”

The voice is a little softer than before. “Well, thanks buttercup. Kick ass on that paper.”

“If the paper doesn’t kick mine first. I’ll try.”

She hangs up again, and you go to your email and look at the attachment. As you scroll through pictures, you realize that she must have started at the most recent ones and worked her way down, because as you scroll you see both of you aging in reverse. You go to the bottom of the page and find the first picture you ever took of the two of you–freshman year, at lunch. You still had your braces and glasses that were taped together. Carmilla’s smile is obviously slightly annoyed and forced.

You scroll back up to the most recent photo; you had to see Carmilla play at the school talent show. Your arm is slung around her shoulder, and she’s leaning into your side with hers around your waist, guitar held in her other hand. She definitely looks like she likes you a lot more in this one. Or else she became a much better actor.

With those pictures in mind, you smile. You think you might know what to write about now.

***

You finish the essay by midnight and you forget about it. You’ve got three more weeks of school before Carmilla goes off with her family to their summer home and you want to spend as much time with your best friend as you can.

It isn’t until the last day of school (before graduation) that they announce that they’ve picked the best speech to be read to the entire school.

You expect it to be Danny. You want it to be Danny, she’s always been your second best friend and you even knew her a little longer than Carm. You read her essay and it almost made you cry.

So you turn to look at her, and you mouth ‘congrats’ until you hear them call out “Laura Hollis!”

You freeze.

“Cupcake,” Carmilla whispered, nudging you. She’s sitting to your right. “Are you going to get up there?”

You really, really don’t want to read that speech with Carmilla here. You guys are friends, best friends since freshman year, but Carmilla was not exactly big on feelings. And certainly not the type to like this kind of attention.

“Uh, yeah. Wow. Here we go.”

You walk up and they hand you the speech, and when you read it again you want to throw up. You’re considering running off and refusing to read it when you catch Carmilla eye–seniors sat up front in the auditorium–and see her mouth ‘get it together cupcake’.

Which for Carmilla is very encouraging. You close your eyes, take a breath, and start.

“Wh-when I started this essay, I had no idea what to write about. An essay about your four years at Silas High School is such a broad thing. So I struggled writing about my four years doing drama, then my four years in the school newspaper, than comparing it to when I was home schooled. None of it was working.

“I thought my essay was going to be awful. Then my best friend sent me some pictures. I knew what to write about then.”

You can see Carmilla in the front. She sits up a little in her seat and raises an eyebrow. Your confidence rises a notch.

You wrote about freshman year, when you had braces and still wore glasses, and had a fashion sense you would expect from a homeschooled girl who went shopping with her father. You talked about how you were bullied constantly until one day this punk girl who you’d never even seen before walked up behind the bully and pulled his shirt over his head, looked at you, and said in a bored voice, “I hate jocks.”

And at first when you sit with her at lunch she’s kind of annoyed with you until she looks at you one day with this really contemplative expression and announces, “You know what? I’ve decided. You’re cute.” From that moment on you’re best friends.

You talk about how those glasses were actually your mother’s, and sophomore year she was officially dead for five years. And Carmilla showed up that night with nutella and an armful of movies. The next morning you finally had the courage to put those glasses in a box and start wearing contacts.

How junior year you tearfully came out to her (why you were nervous you don’t know; she was the only out and proud lesbian at Silas, why would she care?), and her response to that was ‘screw the haters’. And that was how you ended up being the founding members of the Silas High school chapter of the GSA.

And now here you both were, senior year. “I’m not saying she’s the only important friend I have. LaF, Danny, Perry…they–you–all mean so much to me. You’ve made me the person I am, and I like who I am a lot. I couldn’t have said that about myself freshman year. What I am saying is that none of my best memories of high school would have happened if Carmilla hadn’t helped this naive, annoying little freshman and let her sit at her lunch table. So, that was how I decided that the theme of my essay would be high school, from the perspective of me and my best friends. You are all amazing. And Carmilla, thank you for still tolerating me, because I may not have braces, but I’m still just as annoying.”

The auditorium claps politely, and you feel like you’re going to puke. When you walk back to your seat, you don’t look at Carmilla. Her expression is unreadable. The assembly ends, and you file into the hallway, but Carmilla holds your arm and pulls you back.

“Carmilla, what–”

She kisses you. It’s quick, barely a peck on the lips, but it’s enough to make you breathless.  

“I love you too, cupcake.”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. “I didn’t–”

“You wrote an entire essay detailing how amazing you think I am.” Carmilla smirks. “I can read between the lines.”

You hadn’t thought about it because, hello. she was so out of your league, and she’s your best friend. But as soon as the question enters your mind there’s not a doubt. How could you not be in love with her?

Carmilla stops smiling. “Okay, I’m really hoping I didn’t make things completely awkward, did I?”

You mind jump starts and you shake your head. “No! Carmilla, of course,” You kiss her, and her lips taste like mint and cigarette smoke, and once you start you don’t want to stop. “Of course I love you. Oh man…”

“What is it cupcake?”

“It’s just that five minutes ago I was this nerdy drama geek who never even had a boyfriend or a girlfriend and now I’m in love and have a girlfriend who is the most amazing person in the world and it’s making me freak out in the best possible way.”

Carmilla smiles. She pats your shoulder, kind of bashfully, and it’s adorable. This adorable mess of pale broodiness is all yours now.

“Maybe we should take things slow then. Want to see a movie?”

“If by see a movie you mean telling my dad we’re going to see a movie so we can spend all night in your room kissing without him getting suspicious? Yes.”

Carmilla looks at you in wonder. “You are the best girlfriend I could have possibly asked for. I can’t believe you’re real,” she breaths, and you take her hand. 

You have lunch next, and you think your friends are going to be interested, to say the least.