'how could this exist without the tongue

I am the one before the one.

It’s a role I’ve learned to accept.

I am the one who will overload your senses, I am far too much of everything, but you will try to encompass all that I am. I will be the one who teaches you exactly what you want from “the one.” With me you will see things as though the lights were turned too high on the dimmer so that you could only see me and the music too loud that you couldn’t quite hear anybody else. With the next girl you end up with she will shine just brightly enough that you will be able to see everything you couldn’t see with me and the volume of her music will not leave you deaf when the song ends.
I will help you grow by pushing you to the extent of your limit, I will call you out when you’re wrong, I will ask you to do a little better than last time, and I will love you with a love you didn’t even know could exist.
It will feel as though one hand I’ve given you to hold holds all the love in the world and the other holds the words my tongue lashes out with no filter. But with those hands you will learn both the love you deserve and how to finally not hold back how you truly feel. These hands will teach you to speak freely without fear of condemnation and condescending judgements. They will teach you to love and touch everything that you find beautiful as you pull your hands through her hair or frolic through a patch of flowers and pull the petals to your face to smell their fragrance.
You see after me, you’ll learn not only how to love yourself, but love her. She will tell you that she’s never experienced a love quite like yours and you’ll never tell the secret that you learned it from me.

You see, I am the one before the one.

But like that scar you got from scraping your knee on the climb up your favorite mountain, you won’t forget me.
When pieces of her emanate me, I will be present in the breath you hold in just a second too long at the memory of me, the sharp feeling on your tongue as you bite down as my name starts to slip through your mouth, the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way my eyes lit up at your presence. Her smooth edges that represent who she is will often remind you of my jagged edges, the ones that cut you but you still loved to climb. And for all those moments you’re reminded of me, you’ll touch your knee and realize you hadn’t climbed your favorite mountain to your favorite view in a while. You’ll wonder if instead of the common smooth edged rock you’d found on the ground, the one you could buy for five dollars at your local farmers market, you could’ve had a fine cut diamond with jagged edges.
And as you look into her eyes and see your reflection you’ll wonder if the pressure of my love could’ve made you a diamond as well.

—  I am the one before the one

anonymous asked:

if you're still doin prompts..... could you give me some high school hl? if u want xxxx

Harry remembers every single moment of their first interaction vividly:

“Fuck, we have a test today?” Louis had asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, smiling sympathetically.

“Fuck,” Louis repeated.

And then he sat down, right in front of Harry, just as he had been for the last month, and Harry bent under the table to fumble a pencil out of his backpack, finding that his fingers were actually—pathetically—trembling.

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Sweaty and Sweet-Suga(Smut)

Originally posted by monchims

too many bottles of alcohol and a very needy late night call

//for the birthday girl @thedawnsky. Much love for you, enjoy//

You live for the sting of alcohol. The rush through your bloodstream as shots course through your veins, intensifying every physical touch while numbing every thought in your head. You also live for Min Yoongi, punching in his phone number once your drunk enough, stumbling out into the cold night as his voice appears on the other end.    

“I’m waiting for you, Y/N. Come back home.” He says as soon as the line connects, a pleased smile on your lips at his words. And then he’s gone, off to prepare for the steamy session, no doubt with that briefcase of toys he always loves to use on you.

But there’s always a catch between you and Yoongi, while sex with him is rough and wild and the most pleasurable you’ve ever had, some days you are too drunk to remember it. Because you don’t know how to be with each other if you’re not intoxicated, if you can’t feed off the rush of alcohol as he pushes into you. Or taste the bite of whiskey as he kisses you.

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anonymous asked:

May I have this SFW request? :D Kylo Ren was the most feared person in the galaxy, even more so when he crowned himself Emperor. Truth & rumors were spoken in hushed whispers among his subjects & the troops. So imagine the shock for a random person if he/she saw Kylo & you (the Empress) having a quiet moment alone together. It was jarring yet sweet to see such love & affection in Kylo's expression as he held you in his arms, listening to you speak. But it was *there*.

A/N: Hope you like it! Thanks for specifying that you want SFW, details help

‘Kylo Ren Crowns himself Emperor’ it was news that spread quickly across the galaxy, almost as quickly as the fear that his name elicited. His name before was almost never spoken of, it was the monster under the bed that everyone knew about yet liked to pretend didn’t exist. After the coronation, it became impossible to ignore, his name now existing under the underside of tongues, waiting to be cried out. 

He was a force to be reckoned with, like the Emperor before him. However this time was different, this time there was no Rebellion, no Resistance, they had been brutally crushed and now their names were never spoken. Out of fear and survival, the galaxy submitted to the power that Kylo Ren wielded, quietly and without much protest.

What was even more surprising was when he announced his engagement to you, how could such a cold hearted man get married? Everyone had their theories, that he had forced you to marry him under a threat, that maybe you had been controlling this the entire time, or that he wanted an heir. You were also a popular figure, and your engagement came with a lot of protest, people trying to save you from the Emperor. You didn’t need to be rescued, the rumors were far from the truth.

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Search for power


With a grimace across his shadowed black veil The Dark Magus grumbled. Within his iron claw held a grimoire of the darkest incantations known only to him and those he had studied beneath, but nagging thoughts feasted at the back of his skull. Veigar was undoubtedly the grandest, the most powerful, and the devilish of all casters, nay, of all living beings… Yet this form was only achieved through study, through pain and an anguish so particular none of those he had apprenticed experienced. His master was just that, a master, the only soul that Veigar knew could best him even in this state, if he was to leave this world perfect and pristine as he envisioned, he must mold and create such an individual specimen of greatness, and no other was deemed more fitting within his mind than her. The book was shut with a loud thud and dissipated into flowing darkness as The Anti-Arcanist began to step through his halls in search of her.

Mimi was to be found in the library, where she usually was of course when one’s library was comprised of a literal infinite storage of all written literature to exist. “Mimi my dear, so glad I could gaze my eyes upon you this evening.” He spoke with the same slick tongued voice that accompanied him whenever he would speak to his own Wife. His golden eyes burned with a glowing enthusiasm that lit the stone halls near them, but without a moment to give her a chance to respond he continued. “Yes, yes, so very glad, overjoyed one may say… For a particular thought has emerged you see,but pray tell…” He leaned down towards her level the sharp tooth grin towering down upon her. “How goes your studies my Queen?

1. Make her your phone background. Suck it up when her teeth stain you with teases and taunts. She doesn’t mean it. She swoons over it. Don’t let her change it. When you check it at 3 am with grainy eyes and cloudy pupils, smile because it’s of her.

2. Buy her flowers on Valentine’s Day. It’s not superficiality within the cliche, but the educated base of the thought behind it at the supermarket when you’re scrolling through seven month old texts to find out if she preferred purple or blue orchids. Spare 7 bucks and a pit stop.

3. Watch her favorite movie with her. Love it, hate it, doesn’t matter. But pay attention, and nurse the early sunrises still talking about whether Miranda Priestly was a petty backstabbing witch or an industrial guru  –  just talk about it. Just talk.

4. Spend hours deterring your work, putting it off for some other time, to memorize the lyrics of her favorite song. The next time it comes on her iPod as you lay at the foot of her bed, sing it into her neck. Then make out underneath the sheets and remind yourself why someone else’s CO2 tastes good.

5. Study your French texts across the table from her and dress yourself in a smirk. Teach her how you love to drop her clothes to the floor in a different language, how you love to see her with emphasis on different syllables and all the while listen to the tapping of her pencil aligned with different accents and remind her to kiss you without using Google Translate.

6. Tell her about the way your ribs do more than protect an organ, but how they also hold your breath from midday bursts with things like “I’ve always wanted to have sex with you in the pool.” Then tell her how you’ve never felt like you were doing so much right until you unbuttoned her jeans and pasted your tongue to her collarbone.

7. Stuff her with dinner like you’re stuffing her with each and every single way that exists to express affection. Splurge on five-course meals that neither of you could possibly finish anyways, but remind her that money is money and expenses are important but dates aren’t your AP economics class, and you’re holding your hands out to a queen because her smile is the throne on which sits every aspiration that your ankles quiver to think about.

8. Take her to McDonald’s. Buy McFlurries. Lick the ice cream off her nose after being the one to slather it there. Kiss her like her sweet taste is all the sugar you’ll ever crave.

9. Acquire the habit of leaving her good night and good morning messages - texts, calls, voicemails, scalding coffee on her doorstep at dawn, kisses to her forehead, an envelope on the pillow case. It shows commitment and demonstrates the consistency of her presence in your head.

10. This is the most important step I have for you. It’s essential that you listen, okay? Tell her you love her, but only if you mean it, or holy fuck you must just be emptier than a bottle of cough syrup because this is more than a wikiHow. Say the words. “I love you. I’m in love with you. Oh my god, I’m so in love with you that I just can’t think about anything else.” But you cannot expect her to say it back, you can’t. I need you to smile as the words escape you, but don’t treat them like fleeing prisoners locked into your teeth; set them loose like doves riding the waves of the air and kiss her like you meant it and it’s okay that she doesn’t speak this language because one day when you’ve stuck around for enough birthdays she’ll say it back into your shoulder as you’re about to get on the bus. You won’t hear it again for weeks, and she will never echo your I love you’s every time. But there will be cloudy-night picnics under the evergreens and she’ll blink with wine against her tongue and say “I never thought I could ever love someone more than I love Moscato.” There will be unwatched Netflix movies and dirty popcorn and she’ll gasp it into your ear, writhing around your fingertips to the subjunctive of your love and this time she won’t have to say it, you will know, and she will know that you know. And she’ll say it anyway.

—  “How To Make Her Fall In Love With You by WikiHow in 10 easy steps!” | izztstei

I don’t have an excuse for this other than the fact I was stuck in a car for several hours and listened to the song “Shut Up and Dance” by Walk the Moon.  This was the end result.

They are hosting a party in the ballroom.  An idea that Snow had to get everyone’s spirits up.  An idea that Regina protested to the highest degree, claiming they had better, more important things to spend their time on.

But of course, no one listens to the former Evil Queen.  So here she is, standing alone watching the event with a glass of she-doesn’t-even-know-what, but whatever it is has the desired effect, dulling her senses in the most blissful of ways, lulling her into semi-contentment.

Then he shows up with a smirk that she desperately wants to wipe off his face, invading her solitude with his presence.  Smug bastard.

As if his mere existence at her side wasn’t enough to have her clenching her jaw, he starts talking. God, she hates it when he speaks. Spewing off nonsense that she doesn’t give two shits about, making her scoff and roll her eyes.  

He’s attractive enough; with bright blue eyes that could drown her, those damn dimples that draw her in without her permission, and that scruff that has her wondering how it would feel on her skin – but when he opens his fucking mouth the need to rip his tongue out strikes her hard and fast.

“Shut up Thief, and dance with me.”  She suddenly blurts, stopping him short, his mouth hanging open as he pauses mid-word. Her lips curl into a smirk before she turns and walks away from him, her hips swaying seductively as she goes, knowing without a doubt he will follow.

She is rewarded for her antics, for not two seconds later he is by her side, taking her hand in his own and placing his other at her waist.  Then they’re off, waltzing smoothly with the rest of their company (and since when can thieves waltz), eyes glued to each other.  

Regina ignores the warmth that spreads through her from his hands on her body and instead focuses on the placement of her feet, concentrating entirely on the dance and not at all on the way Robin keeps staring at her, as if he is staring straight into her soul, through all the walls she has erected around her.

“Regina – “ she quickly silences him with a finger over his mouth.

“No.  No talking.  Just dance.” And they fall into silence once again.

The music slows, and somehow they have shifted even closer together, with Regina nearly flush against Robin, his hand now moving up and down her side, and she resists the urge to shiver.  She has noticed his gaze travel to her mouth more than once, and as her tongue darts out to wet her parched lips, his eyes travel there once more before rising quickly to meet hers again.

His blue orbs have darkened with desire, making her gasp with the intensity of his stare, and as he moves the hand holding hers to run it through her dark tresses the shiver Regina tried so hard to resist wins out, his touch affecting her body in ways it never should.

They have stopped dancing, the music falling on deaf ears as time seems to slow, Regina now frozen in place. Robin’s hand cups her cheek, his face slowly inching closer.  Regina swallows, her eyes moving to his lips, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, threatening to burst.

Regina wants him to kiss her.

She does, she realizes with a start, and she blinks, shaking her head and jumping back from him, completely embarrassed with how affected she is.

She needs to leave. Should not have lingered so long to begin with.

“I have to go.” She says suddenly, snapping back to her senses before walking away quickly, leaving Robin staring after her retreating figure, but no less entranced by the elusive Queen.

Her lips draw tight
as words she thinks
she understands
skip from the mouths
of those young enough
to be her daughters.

Behind her eyes burns
an agitation that tastes
like metal against
tongue when she speaks.

This love in youth, a
time stamp placed on
the legitimacy of it all,
a border she builds
to surround her every
sharp-cornered word.

How excruciating it
must be, to watch
others speak so
delicately of
something you have
convinced yourself
does not exist, you
rigid-skinned woman.

When you cannot
imagine love without
first thinking of sting,
of the unpleasant
crackle of burning
skin, the fireplace in
which you let yourself
become smoke; I
wish I could have told
you all the things I
was thinking.

It must have been such
an easy thing to tell
yourselves, that this
love was all born from
naiveté, a silly numbers
game, as if it could
only come under the
blanket of bitterness.

As if this love is not
legitimate because
it is not drenched in

How sad, to not be
able to imagine love
as something
transformative and
transcendent, no
light underneath your
lovers’ skin.

How sad to be unable
to imagine it without
first thinking of chains,
forced smiles in public
places, avoiding the
topic of your bruised
skin, gritting your teeth
together in your sleep.

I do not blame her
when she says, one
day I will learn.

I hope she is wrong.

I hope I do not unlearn
this enveloping warmth,
this willingness to give
all of me without any
worry that the pieces I
expose may be stolen,
the infinite openness of
it all.

—  thoughts on love, age 19 ~ Emma Bleker

anonymous asked:

Do you think that when Kaiba gets older he would adopt a kid?

Kaiba and adoption

I could honestly see the decision whether or not to have children going either way.  If Kaiba decided to have children, I can see him adoption being something he’d consider as naturally as having them biologically –  possibly more naturally, since it’s something he could do on his own without relying on anyone else for help.  (Okay, my tongue is slightly in cheek there, but I think the point holds.

It’s a bit hard to talk about children as if they exist in a vacuum, without considering how the rest of Kaiba’s life, whether he was in a relationship, etc. would affect his decision, but since this answer is ridiculously long, I’m going to try.

If Kaiba did adopt a kid, I think he’d only do it when he was significantly older, possibly when he was in his late 30s or early 40s.  I think he’d make a good father and certainly one who would always take his children’s concerns and needs seriously.  And as Kaiba gets older, he might relax a bit and learn to be more openly affectionate with his loved ones.  I think he’ll always keep his game face on at work or in public, but he might feel safe enough to put it away at home.

I have a hard time imagining Kaiba with children earlier than that (if at all) because by the time he’s 26, Kaiba will have raised Mokuba from childhood through adulthood.  That’s a crushing responsibility for someone as young as Kaiba is.  You basically have an eight year old promising to be a father to a three year old, and then living out that commitment, day in and day out, for every single minute of his own abandoned childhood.  And when I look at Mokuba, I can only be stunned at – despite his own damage and just how young he was – just how good a job Kaiba managed to do.

Although Kaiba clearly looks on raising Mokuba as a privilege rather than a burden, I think having already been a parent with all that entails, he’d hesitate to take that challenge on again so soon.  Kaiba is also aware of and guilty about all the times he failed Mokuba or got so caught up in his own baggage that he couldn’t be the kind of parent he feels Mokuba deserved, so I think Kaiba would wait until he felt that he had grown enough himself before trying to raise anyone else for a second time.

I think that would be a good decision.  I’d like to see Kaiba finally have the time to devote to his own needs, something he’s never had the luxury of doing.  I’d like Kaiba to have time, and lots of it, to learn how to take care of himself and ultimately value himself for something other than winning or his engineering skills or his business acumen –  or even his ability to raise a child.  Kaiba didn’t get to have a childhood or an adolescence.  I’d like to see him finally get some time where he could explore who Seto Kaiba is apart from his responsibilities..

I also think that if Mokuba had children, this would make Kaiba significantly less likely to adopt.  I think being a part of their lives would be enough for Kaiba, especially if he wasn’t in a relationship himself or was in a relationship with someone who didn’t want children.  Kaiba probably wouldn’t want anything to distract him from being an uncle, even becoming a father again.  In a way, that it would probably be yet another example of his putting what he sees as Mokuba’s needs ahead of his own desires (assuming he wanted children), but I think it’s something he’d be likely to do.