Jesper x Wylan

This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was a prairie fire. It was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart–or was it Wylan’s?–like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh.

pose borrowed with some changes from this MUCH BETTER fanart


Nina wished Colm Fahey could march over to Jan Van Eck’s office and tell him to give Inej back or get a mouth full of knuckles. She wished someone in this city would help them, that they weren’t so alone. She wished Jesper’s father could take them all with him. She’s never been to Novyi Zem, but the longing for those golden fields felt just like homesickness.

The sweetness of September has left my lips but you still drip like sugar from my tongue. It’s not fair.

Because I exist like salt on raw gums but all I can picture is dragging my anxiety over the crooks you call lips and staining your skin the shade my doctor prescribed to heal the vacancy you painted my everything. And it doesn’t matter doesn’t matter doesn’t matter that you mark me like a hospital band alone but separate because I can’t I can’t I can’t sleep at night without three pills and a chaser because the shade of sky pooling on the wall looks too much like your eyes. I’m in love.

Maybe I’m too much or maybe I’m too little too frequent too forgettable but you left two months ago and I still taste you in old films and book pages like frost on my cheeks. And I’m sorry because I can’t forget can’t forget can’t forget the the brush of your skin like velvet against the heartbeat I call a harp because you played my heartstrings like a symphony.

I picture you in metaphors.
You picture me in past tense.
Too bad you never liked English.

—  I call this poetry and you call it bullshit

Donald Trump may have axed Twitter from tech meet over refusing “Crooked Hillary” emoji

  • Trump snubbed social media giant Twitter because the company refused to create a “Crooked Hillary” emoji, Politico reported on Wednesday.
  • Trump’s highly publicized Wednesday meeting with a bevy of tech industry leaders was conspicuously absent of representatives from Twitter.
  • Company CEO Jack Dorsey was not among those present at the meeting, which included Apple CEO Tim Cook, Microsoft CEO Satya Nadella, Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg, Amazon founder and Washington Post owner Jeff Bezos, and SpaceX and Tesla CEO Elon Musk.
  • RNC spokesman Sean Spicer explained Twitter’s absence was because “the conference table was only so big, OK?” Read more

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how many times can two people fall in love?


yesterday, he swerved his fist and barely grazed your elbow. “like that” he says, runs his tongue over his crooked teeth. the moon was hung up above your too small bodies. you darted closer - he dodged and laughed. the moon gleamed a bit brighter when he asked if you understood what he meant now.


romeo and juliet was always the dullest story on your mother’s shelf. 

in the year that he’s been gone, he’s grown taller than your old junior broomstick and the tie around his neck sits skewed to one side. red would’ve looked terrible against his skin. when you sit, bright-eyed and hopeful, he doesn’t return the smile - only mouths something you can’t read without squinting and the hat’s proud declaration of your future home makes him frown. so you frown too.


last year, he pinned a gleaming badge onto his robes and told you that of course, because he was better. you said he was a bastard of a cheat and you didn’t dodge fast enough - got the air and words jolted out of you. he circles you on the pitch, makes the air a cage and you can’t help but watch. you always learn more about yourself, from him.

he wins, every time he meets you. your anger tastes like salt and sweat and bitter tears.


romeo died from the poison that was meant for his lover, and when he crowds you back against the stone wall, his breath is intoxicating with whiskey. that’s not your downfall. your dagger comes in the form of your childhood nickname and the way his eyes fall, half-lidded, the way the press of his nose to your cheek in a near-miss is almost gentle. When you close your eyes you can almost see the smile he used to give you in the sky, and when you open them, he is gone.


yesterday, he swerved into your path, shoved you down to the ground, let the stream of green light fly above your heads and amidst the dust and smoke and wreckage of a world falling to pieces, you found your haven in the embrace of his body.


they died a montague and capulet, but the two of you have never been separated by your names. and so you get to live.


tomorrow, you will kiss him for the first time and realize it won’t be the last when his hands come up to meet your face. his father named him under the full red circle of mars, but you know his mother spent half her childhood in greece, below a moon that faded each dawn for the sun. your moon kisses like a conquerer, but his touch is tender against your cheek, and you and him have never been anything but intertwined. 

“oliver,” he will say, a sonnet in three syllables, and this time he won’t need to ask, because your answer will be a repeat from the first time you fell.

“yes,” you’ll say, “yes.“

Hogwart’s Common Rooms

 [I have got some ideas from the book and some are from my interpretation… I’m sorry if some are a little longer than others; I wrote it on my phone so I couldn’t tell - Jess:) ]


Hufflepuff common room is the most comforting of all the common rooms, centered off from the kitchen. The common room always smells like fresh baking and warm chocolate. The rooms is light and airy with plants growing in window boxes hanging from the small round windows. A crackling fire would always be burning and in the winter months the house elves from the kitchen would fill glass bowls with marshmallows to toast over it. There would be books scattered over crooked wooden shelves and comfy armchairs with patchwork cushions to read in. An old, slightly out of tune piano would lay to rest in the corner, and would be played on occasions such as Christmas as the students would bellow Christmas carols at the top of their lungs. The bedrooms in the dormitories would be round with several rugs scattered over the wooden floors, accompanied by a fireplace and several wooden bunk beds. The beds would be covered in quilts and each would have a small shelf on the wall beside it with a bedside lamp and enough space to store a couple  of books. Oil lamps would hang from the walls of all the rooms and would slowly dim throughout the evening. Students would enjoy staying up late with blankets and pillows as they would sit around the fire and talk. 


The Ravenclaw common room, located in Ravenclaw Tower on the west side of Hogwarts, would hold the largest collection of books beside the library. These books would be alphabetically placed in floor to ceiling marble shelves, expanding over two walls of the common room. Several navy blue velveteen chaise lounges would be placed around the room, so students could read in comfort. The ceiling would be of a midnight blue, depicting silver enameled stars which moved to represent the nights sky outside. A brass telescope would be facing out of the north window, over the black lake. The dormitories would house several mighty four poster beds, with marble pillars holding up dark blue and silver drapes. A small vanity cabinet would be placed next to the bed, for the students to place all of their belongings in. 


Slytherin common room is located under the lake, with long floor to ceiling windows looking into the green murky lake, and casting a green hue over the entirety of the common room. Tapestries depicting the life of Merlin would cover the dungeon walls, as green foliage would sprout from various corners of the room. A roaring fire would be constantly burning from a large stone fireplace, decorated by the Slytherin crest. Black leather sofas would be facing each other in the middle of the room, as students would kick back and discuss their days together. A crystal candelabra would hang on a chain from the center of the ceiling, casting a warm contrasting light over the large common room. The dormitories would also have tapestries covering the walls, with two smaller windows opening into the lake. The beds would be metal framed, yet would be draped with black curtains and covered in a dark green fleece blanket. Candles would be burning on saucers, placed on wooden bedside tables, and an array of shelves would hold cups with pens in, school books and their own personal possessions.


Gryffindor common room is located in Gryffindor Tower on the 7th floor of Hogwarts and opens to a portrait of the fat lady. The common room is one of the smallest, yet coziest of all common rooms. A fireplace is the center point of the room, with a large, tatty red sofa facing it. Pained windows would outlook the surrounding land of Hogwarts, and in summer the windows would often be opened to let in a cool breeze. Tapestries would hang from bare walls, accompanied by gold leaf gilded paintings of the castle. Bright orb like lamps would be situated around the room, casting a mellow golden light over the furniture. A small wooden desk stood, crammed with books and scraps of paper, was positioned by the staircase beside the hallway to the girls dormitories. The dormitories were round and held several large wooden four poster beds, with heavy red curtains draped from four of the corners. The beds had woolen blankets nearly folded on the end for the winter months. The walls, although initially bare, were covered in posters of favorite quidditch teams and various muggle and non-muggle bands.

Drabbles - 7

Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”  Jin

He likes to cook but loves to eat. His lifelong obsession with anything Mario is both childish and endearing. He feels a strong responsibility to the younger members of his group, to look after the youngest, to make sure everyone’s eating healthy, to help them find bits of happiness and rest where they can. To enjoy life even as their days fly by from one schedule to another, from country to country, always under a spotlight. A microscope. 

He has soft eyes, the warm, deep brown of hot chocolate. His shoulders were made to shelter, to carry. He has calloused hands, small burn scars over his long, slightly crooked fingers, the marks of character and a life spent trying, failing, succeeding. His nose crinkles and laugh lines appear around his eyes when he laughs. He’s awkward and sweet, with less charisma than his bandmates, but an honesty to his words that endears him more than smoldering eyes and bitten lips.

His name is Seokjin, and he’s an idol.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” you tell him over coffee. “Idols are all self-centered. Fake. You have an image to keep up. You know how to seem genuine, how to make a girl fall in love. How to maintain the distance, and profit from it.”

His eyes widen, and a frown turns his perfect, pouty mouth. “That’s… a really harsh way to see idols.” Seokjin spins his cup in his hands, unsure. He chances a glance up at you, trying to read the emotion in your eyes.

You look down into the drink on the table in front of you. Black tea, two sugars. “They say I’m naive for thinking you’re different.” 

Relief drops into the chocolate of his eyes like a dollop of cream, the color lightening with his mood. “Oh…” He’s sharing a small smile with you now, the tension easing from his shoulders. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

“That I’m naive?”

Seokjin’s head jerks up in alarm. “No! No, that you–that you don’t agree with them, about me.” He seems earnest.

You think about all the invitations for coffee. The months he’s spent hanging around the office, long after his practice has ended, hours that he could have been sleeping, to get a chance to talk to you. The careful coaxing it took to drag your phone number out of you, the polite texts that followed, asking about your day, how you were feeling, if you’d eaten yet. That hopeful smile, exuberant and eager, when you’d finally agreed to meet him for coffee that day.

“I guess we’ll find out, Seokjin–sshi.”

Originally posted by minpuffs