Please Send Me A Ship And I Will Tell You

please send me a ship and I will tell you

who’s the cuddler:

who makes the bed:

who wakes up first:

who has the weird taste in music:

who is more protective:

who sings in the shower:

who cries during movies:

who spends the most while out shopping:

who kisses more roughly:

who is more dominate:

my rating of the ship from 1-10:

starter call? ill just randomize it <3

eatmylove​:

❝  …  can  you  translate  that  ??  ❞  she  wasn’t  trying  to  be  rude  or  anything  ,  but  with  the  little  knowledge  she  has  about  the  many  different  accents  and  dialects  it  was  kind  of  hard  to  understand  what  he  was  saying  .  although  she  had  already  hopped  off  the  bike  her  hands  were  gripping  the  handlebars  pretty  tightly  –  she’s  confused  and  scared  (  although  more  confused  ,  since  she  barely  understood  a  word  that  left  him  )  and  didn’t  know  what  was  going  on  ,  so  it  was  a  way  to  keep  her  …  not  safe  ,  but  something  close  to  that  .  ❝  but  the  bike  is  mine  ?  ❞  she’s  assuming  that’s  what  the  fuss  was  all  about  ,  tilting  head  as  brows  furrowed  in  his  direction  .  ❝  i - it  even  has  a  sticker  ,  look  !!!  ❞  her  voice  beamed  ,  small  simper  present  on  features  as  she  pointed  to  where  the  sticker  was  supposed  to  be  ,  but  as  she  eyed  the  spot  herself  her  semblance  shifted  to  a  look  of  pure  confusion  .  that’s  weird  …  so  this  was  not  her  bike  ?  oopsie  !  ❝  uhm  …  i’m  sorry  !  ❞  her  words  were  rushed  as  she  let  go  of  the  handles  ,  bowing  repeatledly  in  his  direction  as  part  of  her  apology  .  ❝  our  bikes  just  really  look  alike  and  …  i’m  so  sorry  !!!  ❞

‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍colt eye’s roll as she asks that question, it’s common his accent receives a bewildered response & it doesn’t get any less annoying each time it happens. having already been irritated before their conversation, this only added fuel to the fire & his brows furrowed, expression turning to a scowl as he lets her continue.    ‍ ‍  ‍❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ right. whatever. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ❜ 

‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍he grabs ahold of the handle bars, ensuring her hands were not in his way before he did so. gaze flutters over to the bike that ACTUALLY belonged to them ... they did look ... very similar. for a second his expression softened, maybe she didn’t actually plan to run off with his bike ? even so. she still commented on his accent & even if from her end there wasn’t any malice behind it, his bad mood saw it differently. averting his gaze back to her, he let out a silent chuckle as he began to wheel the bike back out of its little rack.

‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ okay, stop apologising jeez. i get it. just don’t touch my shit again, ‘kay darlin ? understand that ? ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ❜ 

@lighthousc​​ + yon

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ is there something on my face ? ‍ ‍ ❜

‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍coming across in a rather snappy tone, yon stares into the optics ahead of her, her mirror glassy optics remaining nonchalant & unreadable. as always. this individual interested her, maybe she wanted to ask them ? no. it was way to soon to be considering those types of things. shaking off the thought, she simply scoots just a little further away in her chair, gaze remaining on the stranger’s.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ if not. look away. now. ‍ ‍ ❜

‍starter call babey!

tangledwire​:

“what else should we call it? would there even be a better name for something so despicable? i mean— i could think of a few, but i’m not sure you’d like to hear them!” she giggles then, hand coming up to cover her mouth as her shoulders shake with the force of it. yes, we really are so funny! the rabbit would be so proud of us, wouldn’t he? oh yes, he would! frankly, she couldn’t care less about dancing, burlesque or otherwise, and had at least a minor appreciation for the art, but there was no way she’d ever admit info to someone like mika. there was something about the other female that drew aoi in, but it was certainly not for any pleasant reason. what could it be? how annoying, we don’t even know. so annoying, right? maybe the rabbit knows. ah, he probably does! we should find the rabbit! yes, let’s! she’s about to turn on her heel and skip off to do just that, the pink rabbit suddenly on the forefront of her mind once again, but mika’s stutter keeps the taller rooted to her spot. for a moment, silence settles between them as aoi sizes the other up, takes in her stance as her lips curl into the slightest of smirks.

how pathetic. she’s so pathetic, right? can’t even talk without a stutter! oh, how bad we feel for her. how sad her life must be!

she manages to hold her laughter in as she steps close enough to the other to catch a lock of her hair and curl it around her finger in a loving manner, her own head tilting to the side as she continues to eye the younger her face morphing into its usual cheerful mask. she felt like puking, being so close to something so disgraceful was making her sick, but it was always a good time to toy with the things she found less than satisfactory. currently, mika was one of her favorite playthings, though due to their shared distaste of each other, it wasn’t often she got to play with her. how sad, really. she could show her such fun things if she just let her in. how exciting it’d be. aoi was sure she’d love the lemon candy and the creatures that lurked within the yellow light. her eyes glitter with excitement, but she contains herself for the show.

“you’re sooo cute, y'know?” she hums, letting the lock of hair fall from her finger, but she doesn’t leave mika’s bubble. she has no plans to, so she leaves the choice to mika. whether she played into her games or not didn’t really matter as either way, aoi would enjoy her reaction. her tongue pokes out to wet her lips and she hums at the taste of strawberry, forgetting she’d put on her favorite gloss that morning. it made her lips a nice, sparkly pink. “the stutter is a bit of a problem, though, don’t you think?” she pauses, taking a moment to card her fingers through her hair, annoyed with the way it’s fallen into her face, obstructing her view of the other. mika’s still pink. the pink she didn’t deserve. how annoying. she wanted to paint her yellow. or green. or blue. maybe purple. anything but pink. the creatures laughing in the corner of the street seem to agree with her.

“we could fix it. if you wanted. do you like candy?”

‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍mika stiffens the moment her personal bubble is breached, letting out a shaky exhale as optics narrow upon the female ahead of her. the second aoi’s scent wrapped around her like an unwanted hug, the brunettes fight or flight kicked in and hands immediately stretched ahead to ( gently ) push back the female. obviously unaware of the strand of hair that lay tangled up in pretty pink fingers,    ‍ ‍  ‍❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ shit - what the fuck aoi ?! ‍ ‍ ❜ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍she tilts her head as she attempts to break free auburn strands, fixing her composure as her scowl only grows. her cheeks a little flushed from the overall closeness & comments, with tongue to cheek she averts her gaze. mainly to avoid adding fuel to the fire with her flustered state, as from their previous encounters - mike had pretty much figured out by now more or less what makes aoi tick. theres a glint in her eye whenever she slips up, very much how they shined moments ago at the mere presence of mika’s stutter. ‍

‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ what do you mean fix it ? it just happens sometimes. stop being so weirdly condescending. god.‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ❜ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍defensive & quick to respond to comments, mika’s gaze once again finds the female’s, her irritated demeanour still present, however the small glint of rose that dusted her cheeks had fortunately faded. “a bit of a problem” lingered in her mind, it was a problem. she knew that. it was embarrassing, every time it happens the cringe that rushes through her is almost as prominent as the previous. if not more. but that didn’t mean others could point it out, it’s somehow worse that way. acknowledging it off her own personal accord is okay, it’s a quirk she has. that’s it. but aoi mentioning it, using it to call her “cute” and drip a condescending tone into the conversation because of it, is something much more than degrading. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍       with choosing to ignore any further comments about her career, as by this point, she’s pretty much tired of explaining the concept of dance to this individual. mika attempts to divert the attention onto aoi by quick firing questions in return to her own. brows furrow as she exhales, more stable than it was before,    ‍ ‍  ‍❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ candy ? that’s a strange thing to ask. are we talking about charlie and the chocolate factory candy or ... well ... ‍ ‍ ‍ ❜ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍taking a glance at aoi from head to toe, mike pauses, gesturing to aoi’s appearance.     ‍ ‍ ❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ your type of candy. whatever the fuck that might be today. ‍ ‍ ‍ ❜ ‍ ‍‍

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍       mika would be lying if she said she didn’t feel an ounce of sorrow for the girl. it’s probably the relativity. having a similar stage like this in her life, of course not even CLOSE to how aoi had gotten herself, even if she didn’t want to, she sees herself in the female. probably where the hate & anger comes from, at least on her end. the countless conversations and meetings they have always end with negative thoughts, but mike still chooses to interact. why ? does she feel a fucked up need to be around her ? regardless, that didn’t matter right now. what mattered is how fast a hand would be to her cheek if she stepped in her space a second time. 

@goddamnfaded​ + yon

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ❛ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ what ? are you talking to me ? i really was not listening. it isn’t that i don’t care what you were saying except that it is. ‍ ‍ ‍ ❜

‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍yon is ... not the best at communicating. she’s trying. most her nonchalant attempts at forming words seem to come together as an offensive attack regardless the context of that conversation. lifeless eyes blink up at the male, waiting for a response. she’s uncertain if she wants to hear what he had to say a second time, but he was quite interesting to look at, so she didn’t mind all that much.

‍starter call babey!