want some lemonade

Say it again (1/1)

Summary: Trini disliked Kimberly Hart during her first year in Angel Grove.

Ao3


Trini disliked Kimberly Hart.

The first time Trini saw Kimberly; Kim was wearing her cheer uniform and was pressed against Ty Flemming’s locker, which happens to be just a couple lockers away from Trini’s, making out with him as if her life depended on it.

It was Trini’s first day at the new school, halfway through the first semester when she transferred in. She rolled her eyes at the couple making out, ignoring her presence, she placed her books inside then slammed it close. Her small hands gripping the backpack straps then walking away with her head down low.

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A Blind Path Home, part 4

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I obviously took some liberties with the storyline, but I tried keeping it as true as possible to the canon history. No beta used this time around, so excuse my mistakes.

Summary: It started with a blind date. A date you had skipped out on, but fate had led you right to the man you stood up. Steve Rogers, a man small in stature but big in heart. A chance meeting set everything in motion, but decades later when he is unfrozen, he has been told you have died. But when a mission to retrieve Hydra plans turned up some interesting information, Steve’s left to wonder whether you are still alive. Or is this all just false hope?

Masterlist (if it works - links have been shity lately)

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Dear Journal,

Today Sirius helped me place my books in the library. I couldn’t wait to open my own little shop. I decided to name it “the Moon and Stars”. Sirius said he would help me paint the name on the facade of the building tommorow. I was placing books on the sci-fi shelf and Sirius was sitting on the floor going through romance books.

“I’m thirsty! Want some Lemonade?” He asked, standing up.

“Sure!” I smiled to him.

He walked upstairs to the kitchen and a few minutes later, I heard a glass break. Scared, I ran upstairs to see Sirius holding a letter in his shaky hands.

“Sirius.. What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Mother is dead.” He said, frowning.

“What?!” I said, walking up to him.

“Sh-She’s dead. Mother’s gone.” He said, shaking.

“Come here..” I said, putting my arms around him.

“No.. No.. I shouldn’t be sad.. She was awful to me.” He said, getting angry.

“Sirius she’s your mother it’s okay to be sad..” i said.

“No! No! I-I need to go for a walk.. I-I need to be alone..” Sirius said, pushing me away.

“Sirius..” I said, but the door was already closed.

I waited for him to come back. There was a thunderstorm and I was scared. I kept looking at the clock from where I was sitting, hoping he would come back soon. I heared a thunder and jumped. I was terrified. But I was mostly worrying about where Sirius was. I sat on the floor next to the door and layed my back against the wall. Where was he? I held my legs close to my chest and let the tears fall on my cheeks.

“Where are you Pads.. I need you. I need to know you’re safe..” I whispered, crying.

A big thunder made me jump again.

“Pads.. Come back.. I’m scared..”

I then heard the door. Sirius. He walked in, soaked with raindrops.. or tears. He was still shaking. But this time, he was also crying. When he saw me, he fell on the wooden floor and hugged me.

“She’s gone.” He cried.

“I know.. I know.. It’s okay Sirius.. It’s okay to cry..” I said, wipping my tears off of my cheeks.

“But I hate her! Why does it make me sad?” He asked, looking deep into my eyes with his grey ones.

“She’s your mother Sirius. No matter what she will always stay your mother..” I said, brushing wet srands of hair away from his forehead.

“Poor Regulus.. He’s all alone..” Sirius said, crying even more.

“Shhhhhh… it’s okay, he’s with Sophie Remember? She’ll take care of him..”

“Okay… Remus I’m sorry, I left and you were worried..” he said, silent tears running down his cheeks.

“It’s okay.. You were angry and sad, I understand Sirius..”

“And.. And there was a storm! You must’ve been so scared! I’m sorry Remus..” He said hugging me closer.

“It’s okay Sirius.. You’re here now. You’re safe.. it’s all that matters..”

“Can you help me write to Regulus? I would like him to visit us for a while. Is that okay?” He asked, wipping his tears away.

“Of course It is.. Come on, we need to get you some dried clothes..” I said, helping him get up.

“I love you Remus.. I’m sorry I made you worry..” He said, his face burried in my chest.

“It’s okay baby.. Everything’s okay..”

-Remus
March 27th 1978

Yellow

Word count: 9.6k

Summary: Please stop picking flowers from my garden au/ Dan really likes yellow and his cat really likes Phil

Warnings: mentions of death of a minor character (a made up one for like 3 paragraphs), alcohol (but casual drinking for only a little bit) (it’s not that sad i promise most of it is fluff and flowers)

AN: fourth colour fic, come at me (it’s not as sad as Grey)


There’s a house on a quiet street somewhere up north which has a bright yellow door. Yellow honeysuckle grows around it and it shines in the sunlight. The curtains in the windows are yellow and there are vases with yellow flowers in each window. Daffodils and crocuses in the spring, marigolds and cosmoses when it was warmer. The welcome mat was a grubby yellow from well use and there was even a little yellow cat that would wander around and lie in the buttercups.

But that was the house next door.

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2

bon iver: hey sufjan, it’s me! your old pal bon iver! what’s up? just wanted to touch base and see how you’re doing! it’s been a while but i just emerged from my log cabin in the rural wilds of - wyoming? or wisconsin? i literally can’t remember, but it’s something like that - and i’ve released a new album! make sure you drop by your local record store and buy it!

sufjan: Oh I Will Most Assuredly Not Be Doing That Mister Iver

bon iver: oh! well, i understand - i mean, it can be hard to take time out of your busy day to swing by the old record store and pick up some new vinyl! but no worries, it’s on all the streaming services too, so it’s super easy to listen to!

sufjan: According To My Calcuations If I Listen To Each Of The Ten Songs Featured Upon Your New Album On Spotify You Will Earn The Standard Rate Of $0.006 Per Song For A Total Of $0.06 Or Six Cents Is That Correct 

bon iver: yep, that’s right! six cents!

sufjan: That Is Six Cents More Than You Are Worth

bon iver: whoa! okay! so that’s how it is, huh? what the hell, sufjan? you’re my buddy! my pal! we’ve always been friends!

sufjan: Any One Who Says Beyoncé Is Not A Good Role Model For Little Girls Is No Friend Of Mine

bon iver: okay, that’s not fair! i was making a critique of capitalism! i was saying it’s wrong of her to sign a two million dollar endorsement deal with pepsi and then pretend to be a feminist icon! the capitalist machinery is fundamentally incompatible with the goals of feminism!

sufjan: I Just Googled The Phrase Bon Iver Net Worth And It Said You Are Worth Five Million Dollars But Go Off Karl Marx

bon iver: that’s so unfair! i earned that money through hard work, honest art, and saving on rent by living in an unheated cabin in - was it wyoming, or wisconsin? one of them! but the point is, i didn’t make my money by selling out and signing endorsement deals! isn’t there more to being a musician than shilling for some high-calorie, sugary drink?

sufjan: Speak For Your Self Ever Since My Best Friend And Role Model Beyoncé Signed Her Endorsement Deal With Pepsi I Have Consumed No Liquid Beside PepsiCo Brand Drinks And My Blood Pressure May Be Through The Roof And My Kidneys May Be Full Of Granite But I Have Never Felt So Alive

bon iver: whatever, sufjan! i stand by what i said! you can’t take two million dollars from pepsi and then be a role model for young girls!

sufjan: What Have You Ever Done For Young Girls Except Inspire A Bunch Of Them To Do A Better Job Of Singing Skinny Love Than You Ever Did

bon iver: oh my god!

sufjan: Do You Want Some Lemonade With That Tea

Essays in Existentialism: Stud V

omg stud lexa is great. i’m in love. she said it. ah ah ah. hope there’s gonna be a part v!

Previously on Stud

The long and winding driveway that led to the Woods’ estate crept along the creek that slithered its way along the property, connecting inland with the ocean in the distance. The trees fought the good fight against the impending autumn, still lingering in verdant greens while their tops and farthest leaves began to catch fire, flickering with the flames of reds and yellows and deep, deep auburn. In the distance, atop the small hill, the peaks of the roof could be seen every so often, nearly glowing with their lights in the dusk.

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anonymous asked:

Once I was at a mcdonalds, and I wanted to get some lemonade. However, they were out of the regular, and only had pink. So I said alright, I'll take the pink, and the two girls behind me started laughing out loud.

W  O   W

PINK LEMONADE? WHAT NEXT? DIET SODAS TO WATCH YOUR FIGURE??

Dancer//A Luke Ross Imagine

Anon said: I saw that you too are Disney channel trash. I was wondering if I could get a Jessie imagine where you’re a dancer too and you’re practicing in the park, but there’s one move you just can’t get and Luke helps you out (maybe make it 2 parts?)

Nice

.

Step two, three, four, slide, two, three, four, and flip…

You landed painfully on your side. “Son of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath. 

“You okay?” a voice asked.

You looked up and saw a freckled face looking down at you. 

“Yeah,” you said, standing up and dusting yourself off. “I’m just having a bit of trouble with this routine.”

“Do you want some help?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I’m Luke, by the way.”

“(Y/N).”

“So, (Y/N), what are you having trouble with?”

You groaned. “It’s the stupid flip. It’s not even a backflip, it’s just a front flip, but for some reason I can’t do it.”

“Lemme see the routine up to the flip.”

You did as he asked, ending up winded on your back again.

He considered for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, I think I know what’s wrong. It’s the way you’re transitioning. Maybe try it like this instead of this,” he said, demonstrating.

You tried it and nailed it. “Awesome, thanks!”

“Are you practicing for the showcase next month?”

You nodded, taking a swig from your waterbottle. “Are you gonna do it?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Hey, maybe you can come over some time and we can practice together. Are you doing anything later today?”

You pulled out your phone and checked your calendar. “Nope.”

“Do you wanna come over now?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

“Sweet. Hey Jessie!” he yelled to a redheaded woman. “I’m going home!”

The woman waved in acknowledgement and the two of you took off across the park to the building a couple blocks down.

Luke said hello to the doorman and you got into the elevator. He punched the button for the top floor and the elevator arrived in the penthouse. 

“God damn,” you breathed under your breath as you stepped out. “You live here?”

“Yeah, it’s me, my brother, my two sisters, our nanny, and our butler.”

“Who are your parents?”

“Morgan and Christina Ross.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of them. The filmmaker and the fashion designer, right?”

He nodded. “Do you want some lemonade?”

“Yes please.”

He led you to the kitchen and you sat down at one of the stools while he got the lemonade from the fridge.

An overweight balding man walked into the kitchen. “Hi Luke. Hello Emma’s friend.”

“Who’s Emma?” you asked curiously. 

“Aren’t you her friend?” the man asked.

“I’ve never met her. I’m (Y/N), I’m Luke’s friend.”

“Luke has a friend that’s a girl? And you haven’t run screaming yet?”

You raised an eyebrow. “um, yeah?”

“Bertram! Please, can you not.”

Bertram smirked. “I’m gone.”

He left and Luke sat down across from you. “So what song are you thinking about performing to?”

“Pound the Alarm. What about you?”

He shrugged. “Haven’t really decided yet.”

“Do you want help picking one out?”

“Sure, why not.”

You scrolled through the music on your phone. “Have you considered Skrillex? I’ve done a couple routines to his stuff, it’s pretty easy to get a basic routine going and then jazz it up.”

“Play me something.”

You plugged your phone into the stereo and started a song.

In no time at all, the two of you had basic moves down and at this point you were just jamming to the song, unaware that basically everyone was watching you. Zuri, Ravi, and Emma were watching from the top of the stairs and Bertram and Jessie were watching from the kitchen. 

“The bass is shaking the whole house,” Bertram complained.

Jessie smacked his arm. “Look how happy he is. He can never find a friend to dance with him. It’s cute.”

The butler rolled his eyes. “As long as they don’t break anything.”

anonymous asked:

please please pleeeeeaseeee write a small solangelo au with jock!will and punk!nico just a teeeeeny weeny one is more than enough please OTL

for u anon

They meet for the first time on one of the final, burning days of summer, the type of afternoon that is heavy with crimson-yellow-orange heat. As he winds his way through the maze of wooded running trails stretching from one end of his hometown to the other, it occurs to Will that maybe the world is holding its breath. Like it’s waiting for something, breathing and living and watching his every move.

Will takes a deep breath and runs faster.

Since he’s shit with directions anyways, he lets his feet do the work, carrying him down soil paths worn smooth by years of use. It is - mercifully - less scorching in the woods, the sunlight trickling through the canopy of leaves above him like water dripping from cupped hands. Will’s feet find an easy rhythm, pumping under him. Drumbeats, heartbeats.

He moves.

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You’re Not Going Anywhere Oneshot

Fandom: X-Men

Ship: Peter Maximoff/Reader

Length: 358 (sorry it’s so short!)

Request: Could you please write something about Peter (x-men) being in a bit of pain from Apocalypse breaking his leg and the reader having to look after him and he’s really cuddly and tired and just adorable?

Rating: G

Warnings: None, just fluffy things! (sorry it took me so long to write this it’s almost finals week and I got distracted)


It had been a couple weeks since Peter’s leg had been broken by Apocalypse, and, being his significant other, you took it upon yourself to care for him.

He was pretty horrible as far as patients go. He insisted on going everywhere; because of his mutation, sitting still for very long was agonizing for him.

“Do you want some lemonade, Pete?” You asked, holding two tall glasses of homemade lemonade. Peter was sitting on the couch, but when he saw you come into his room, he lept to his feet and moved to you as fast as he could.

“Need some help with that?” He asked.

“You can’t carry anything with those crutches, Pete. Go sit down.” You pointed to the couch. He pouted at you, then made his way back to the couch. You walked over to join him, but tripped on a rug, spilling the lemonade everywhere.

“I got it!” Peter jumped up and went to the bathroom for a towel. He tried getting on his hands and knees to clean it, but you stole the towel and pointed to the couch. He sighed with resignation then sat back down.

After you finished cleaning the sticky lemonade off the ground, you walked over to the couch. You knew Peter would continue to get up and dart around if you just sat beside him, so you climbed into his lap, snuggling into him.

He wrapped his arms around you. He knew what you were doing, but he’d never complain about being this close to you.

“Does it hurt?” You slid a hand down his leg to his cast and he winced.

“Yeah, but I’m losing my mind. I’ve never had to stay down for this long.” You brushed back a strand of silver hair from his face and kissed his cheek. “Then again, I don’t mind it too much when you’re around.”

There was a knock at the door, and Peter made a move for his crutches.

“Oh, no you don’t!” You pushed the crutches so they landed on the floor out of his reach. Placing your head on his chest, you mumbled. “You’re not going anywhere!”

Wherever I’m With You

i | iii | iv | v

It was only May, but an early heatwave made the attic at The Burrow stiflingly hot. Ginny fanned a hand in front of her face listlessly. Cooling Charms didn’t seem to work up here—she suspected the ghoul’s influence—and the few windows didn’t open at all. The heat was made worse by the fact that, out of the un-opened windows, Ginny could see most of her family out on the lawn, all having a wonderful time lounging around post-Sunday lunch, whilst she slaved away, sorting out her belongings to take to her new home with Harry.

Hermione and Percy were both reading in the shade, whilst Ron, Harry and Dad played with the children in a little paddling pool. As she watched, Bill came over, shooting water out of the end of his wand like a sprinkler and the children all squealed delightedly, dancing around in the droplets. She felt inordinately jealous of them. Only Angelina, who was heavily pregnant, looked as uncomfortable as she felt, but she did at least have the advantage of having George waiting on her hand and foot. Although…could that really be classed as ‘waiting on’? Really, if they were going for that sort of display, they should come with some sort of parental advisory warning.

“Who wants some lemonade?!” The two of them managed to separate themselves as Mum left the house, levitating a tray containing a large jug and several glances. And—was Fleur following behind her with choc ices? This was not fair at all.

Sulking, she turned back to her task at hand. She had three boxes in front of her, Hermione having shown her the undetectable extension charm to make them bottomless. One was for rubbish, one for things she was keeping, and one for things to be donated, and she was throwing everything she had owned into one of the three. It was not a particularly enjoyable task: things of use, like her clothes or books, had come with her when she’d moved into her own flat on the Harpies’ grounds so most of what was left wasn’t that important. But now that she and Harry had a “proper” house, her mother had told her that there was no excuse to be cluttering up her home anymore, and everything had to go.

She placed a single, battered trainer in the discard box, and a bunch of Hogwarts textbooks from third year in the donate box. Perhaps Professor McGonagall would want them for the library, or she could save them for Teddy in a few years. She was just debating whether or not to donate or discard a t shirt she had worn to death aged twelve after commandeering it from Charlie—really, should late-80s fashions be inflicted on anyone?—when she heard footsteps and Harry’s appeared through the trapdoor.

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This is a short fic set in some vague Hogwarts Verse! I was too lazy to properly go through what kind of plants we know to exist in HP so I just made pixie poppies up *lol*

Pixie Poppies

Dean visitshis boyfriend’s home for the first time. The house is silent and the garden is wild.

Also on AO3


Theconstant buzz of bees and the rustle of the wind through the high grass and thetrees lining the property made Dean feel calm. Almost content. It was a hot day even at ten o’ clock in the morning.

He had been startled out of his bed – a monstrosity of dark wood and armies of pillows and blankets even at the height of summer – by the whistling of the kettle two floors downstairs. It was a call to breakfast but Cas had thankfully peeked into Dean’s bedroom all bleary eyed and sleep mussed but with a smile on his lips. Cas had told him between one sloppy kiss and a yawn that his father was an early riser but he didn’t expect his guest to join him. Dean had been more than glad to be excused from what felt to be a before sunrise breakfast. He had grunted something in reply and turned around to sleep some more.

But he had found his way out of bed eventually, washing and silently walking down the stairs in this strange house. It was old and the wood creaked, but it was well taken care of and felt homely. It was not like at home or at Campbell manor though where magic filled all corners of the house, making it feel alive and cheery. This house… it was silent. 

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3: Kill that “Masc. vs. Fem.” bullshit.

Majority of you sitting y’all asses on social media, screaming out about how y’all don’t fuck with “fem” niggas, & y’all only like gays that “act straight”…

First of all, miss thang, don’t nobody want your OBTUSE RUBBER GOOSE shaped ass anyway. You out here casting judgement upon other people as if you’re the fliest thing walking. News flash, love…

Y’all want some lemonade? I don’t do “tea” anymore.

Originally posted by vanilladroid

Let’s start off with this: What you call “acting straight” is actually in reference to being MASCULINE. To tell someone that you like them because they “act straight”… It’s dehumanizing. First of all, masculinity is associated with men due to the hormone “testosterone”, which is only found in the male gender. To say you don’t like someone because they don’t “act straight” is to say that you don’t view them as a man… Despite their behavior, if they have genitals & a dick, then they’re a man. Case closed, bitch.

There’s one thing to have a preference, but to shame a group of gays based on something they can’t control, & you’re gay yourself…. Oh bitch. You got some NERVE. Most of you queens vogue your dirty cunty booty crumb havin’ asses OFF ass soon as a Beyonce song comes on & y’all got the nerve to be passing judgement.

Now, I’m nowhere near fem. I might play around a lot, but I’m very masculine… & I’m so comfortable within my masculinity to not be threatened by someone’s feminity whatsoever. If that bothers you, then maybe you ought to see a psychiatrist, boo. Pray on it.

Rain pt.3

You can find pt. 1 here and pt. 2 here. This is the last part to this series and I NEED TO CHILL FOR A MONTH. HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. NAMJOON IS PROBLEMS.


We were seating in the kitchen, each one at the opposite end of the table, an awkward silence flooding the room while Namjoon stared intensely at the ground without blinking. I asked if he wanted some lemonade since the weather was extremely hot and I needed it because my throat got sore the very moment I saw him standing right in front of my door. I filled his glass first and then I filled mine just to guzzle it while I faced the kitchen counter so he could not see how my hand was trembling, not sure why. My teeth chattered and I felt the characteristic intense pain in my head due to the cold, making me squeeze my eyes shut - Long time no see - He said, gradually lowering the tone and the last word was almost a soft whisper. His voice rumbled in my chest and I wondered how could I forget its sound.

- I know, it stopped raining - I said, still facing the counter, and I could feel his intense stare piercing the back of my head.

- It’s not because of that - He softly said, a sigh escaping his lips and it felt like he was smiling a bit - I’ve been traveling… I’m sorry I didn’t let you know.

A huge part of me felt relief because he couldn’t come not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. And another little part of me was furious and wanted to hit him with all my might. I finally turned around to face him and I leaned on the countertop, crossed my arms and looked at him straight in the eyes while I tried not to shake too much because, damn, he really looked as if he was trying to apologize - I wanted… I wanted to see you - He stated, looking back at me and I swear I’ve never felt more week at the knees.

He slowly stood up and walked towards me, I could notice how the tips of his ears turned a soft shade of red and how his breathing was getting faster as he got closer to me. I didn’t notice I was motionless, carefully breathing and trying not to make a sound as if I was going to stop what was happening. My brain stopped functioning. He placed both his hands at each side of my body, grabbing the countertop, bringing his face extremely close to me just to rest his forehead on mine - Namjoon? - I whispered, breathlessly.

His nose brushed against mine and then he pressed his lips on the corner of my mouth, kissing it softly. I suddenly came to my senses and I grabbed his shirt, driving himself even closer to me as I kissed him hard, my hand leaving his chest to run my fingers up his neck as he opened his mouth letting me in. His hands left the countertop and grabbed my hips, burying his fingers into my skin for a few seconds just to start wondering under my undershirt, roaming up my back, trailing my spine, ribs, holding me hard and trying to pull me closer if that was even possible. He squeezed my butt and helped me seat on the counter as I grabbed a handful of his hair to push his head aside, leaving hickeys down his neck while he slowly removed our clothes one by one making me feel dizzy for it, painfully brushing his hips against mine as I cried out. I whimpered when he finally thrusted into me, holding my back tight not letting me move away - Faster - I huffed, feeling it closer, earning a low growl from him as he increased the pace ‘til his movements got jerky and desperate, having me spreading my legs even more for him and my vision faded to black for a moment, arching my back until I felt it slowly disappear while he hid his face in the crook of my neck, softly growling and gradually slowing down his thrusts. I looked at him trying to catch my breath as he did the same, pressing his forehead on mine as he softly trailed his fingers up and down my spine - I also wanted to see you - I finally said - I thought I had lost you.

- I like you - He suddenly blurted out, staring at me with hooded eyes as if he was in pain - a lot.

- I like you too - I answered back, pressing my lips to his - a lot - He smiled, showing me his beautiful dimples as he pushed me in for a hug.