are you still mad at me

in-need-of-a-social-life  asked:

" she's just mean cause I have you and she doesn't "

baz whispers in the dark, running long fingers through simon’s golden curls. 

“its just weird not really being friends with agatha anymore. i miss talking to her.” simon admits, “i feel like shes mad at me all the time.”

“well, you did run off with the boy she dumped you for.” baz smirked

“thats not entirely my fault, you-”

“you kissed me first, si.”

“whats that got to do with agatha?” simon mumbled, curling his fingers in the soft hair on the nape of bazs neck

“just shut up and do it again.”

he did.

anonymous asked:

Mikan was in her despair state when she killed Ibuki and Hiyoko though. I have two points about this: 1. Wouldn't that make her deeds more "understandable"? Can Hiyoko stay mad at her for that? and 2. What if she wakes up in her despair state? The last time her avatar was alive in the Neo World, she was in despsir state after all.

(Are you asking me or the characters? If me then Hiyoko has already answered your first question: she said that she was never going to forgive her and that she was still mad at her because the Monokuma disease didn’t make her fall into despair, it gave her her memories back, she let herself fall into despair again and that’s why Hiyoko is saying that she is as guilty -or more- than the others.

And 2, that’s a possibility -I think the characters already answered an ask about that- but I’m not going to tell you whether or not that will happen. Just as I won’t tell you anything I have in mind for any character of this blog, you will have to wait and see.

And just a thing I want to say; I know a looooot of you LOVE Mikan and want to protect her etc. I understand. But. Don’t forget what her victims must feel. Try to put yourself in Hiyoko’s and Ibuki’s shoes, do you really think you could forgive your own murderer that easily. It’s easy for us to tell them that they shouldn’t be angry but I doubt any of us would say the same thing if the position were reversed.

Aaaand I also want to say : are you all saying that Hiyoko shouldn’t be mad because it’s Mikan? Or would you say the same thing if Hiyoko was the one who had caught the Monokuma disease and killed Mikan?

And last. Everyone is always talking about how Hiyoko/Mikan must feel but…Aren’t you all forgetting Ibuki? ^^

I’m not accusing anyone here! I just find that this is an interesting topic ! :)

-mod lili)

2

March 27th, 2007: Happy 10th Anniversary to the Mortal                             Instruments by @cassandraclare​!

First Dialogues:

City of Bones:  “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

City of Ashes:  “Are you still mad?”

City of Glass:  “Score, I’m kicking butt at Mario Kart”

City of Fallen Angels:  “Just coffee, please.”

City of Lost Souls: “Mom, its me!”

City of Heavenly Fire:  “Picture something calming. The beach in Los Angeles—white sand, crashing blue water, you’re strolling along the tide line …” Jace cracked an eye open. “This sounds very romantic.”

City of Heavenly Fire (last line): “Freely we serve, because we freely love, as in our will, to love or not; in this we stand or fall”

A letter to every fanfiction author

Yes, this post is for you, the person who just spent another night writing a chapter for their fanfiction, writing for hours for those hungry fans who are following your work. 

This goes out to those amazing fanfiction authors who write amazing pieces of work. You have an amazing plot, beautiful descriptions and your characters are always perfectly in character. Reminding us all of the stories we love so much.

You make me laugh out loud. You make me cringe in embarrassment. You even make me mad enough to rant for hours. 

Originally posted by staycuteandcozy

But then, with your beautiful words and imagery, you make me sad. 

You make me cry and scream for those characters I love. You make me want to throw my tablet across the room while still wanting to hold it tightly to my chest. You make me feel emotions for these characters, emotions only the true creators have managed to pull from me.

Originally posted by a-chaotically-peaceful-soul

Why would you do this? Why break my heart into a million pieces and throw them to the wind to scatter my sadness around? I’m sure it hurts you more to create these stories. To see those characters you have loved, just as much as I, hurt or get hurt. It must break you bit by bit to write the words to complete that one scene. 

Originally posted by sooper-dee-dooper-natural

But also, thank you. Thank you for the beautiful story you crafted for hours. And thank you for making me feel those beautiful emotions. Thank you for letting me live with these characters for a little while longer.

Originally posted by behindthezenes

                                              Just, thank you. 

8

You son of a bitch. I never made one of these when you were still responding because I was so mad at you for leaving. And then when you went quiet, it felt like I should live with that decision, and I have. But today is my birthday. And it’s a special one, because you told me… you once told me that when you come back we might be the same age. And today I’m the same age you were when you left. So it would be a real good time for you to come back.

How i see the mars signs

Aries Mars:  HELLA ANGRY OMG. they talk with such anger and hostility and like can be so so so so brutal and mean and physically violent sometimes. 

Taurus Mars: Stubborn like if there pissed at you they probably won’t change what there stance is until to you until you apologize and maybe will still be pissed at you.

Gemini Mars: okay like every gemini placement THEY ARE ALL OVER THIS PLACE WITH THERE ANGER like “OMG IM SO MAD, wait cats are cool, no wait what i mad about again” 

Cancer Mars: “I GIVE I GIVE AND NO ONE LOVES OR APPRECIATES ME!!11!” a really angry crier like they probably are sobbing because they are pissed at you.

Leo Mars: Probably really in control with there anger tbh?? idk i feel like there are a tons of ways to piss leo mars off but i feel they try to keep in control of there anger.

Virgo mars: Emotions??? VIRGO???? *insert laughing here* I mean i think they are super critical and cant see there own faults but like come on, its virgo…

Libra Mars: probably really like peace actually, fightings just not for them. probably a little lazy and finds issues with motivation.

Scorpio mars: The god of murder. little tip DONT FUCK WITH THEM. they will probably wish ill on you for the rest of there life if there pissed. (pleasedon’thurtme)

 Sagittarius Mars: they’re like super carefree most of the time but if they are pissed at you they probably have a good reason. 

Capricorn Mars: Blunt, brutal and probably have no mercy when angry. probably dig deep for wounds. 

Aquarius Mars: I don’t think they’re capable of getting too angry. like honestly really cool and chill and just want to relax and sleep.

Pisces Mars: really really passive aggressive when hurt. pls don’t hurt them. they mean well. 

(I wasn’t being serious just heads up)

“I see you eating whatever you want and not exercising” - Pants

Dear girl trying to get back in shape,

I know it’s hard. I know the hardest thing you may do all day is walk into the gym. I know how easy it is to want to give up and go eat Chicken McNuggets, but don’t do it. I know it feels like you work so hard and get no where. I know how frustrating it is to see that person across the table from you eat a Big Mac every day while you eat your carrots and still be half of your size. I know that awful feeling where you don’t want to go to the gym because you know how out of shape you are. Trust me, I know.

The important thing is you are doing something about it. I’m sure you get mad at yourself for letting your body get this out of shape, but life happens. You have made a huge accomplishment by not having a soda in over a month, and those small changes are huge. I understand how hard it is, I understand how frustrating it is to not see results and I understand why you want to give up. Being healthy and fit takes so much time. As much as I wish you could wake up the day after a good workout with the 6 pack of your dreams, that just isn’t the reality. If being healthy was easy, everyone would do it, and it wouldn’t feel so good when you got there.

Remember how last January your resolution was to get back in the gym and get healthy again? Think about how incredible you would look right now if you would have stuck with it. The great thing is that you can start any time, and you can prove yourself wrong.

Tired of starting over? Then don’t give up.

You are only as strong as your mind. You will get there one day. Just be patient and keep working.

— 

The Odyssey Online

Originally posted by quicksilver123456

Beyoncé, baby…. if you never want to grace the Grammys stage ever again, I won’t even be mad at all. They don’t deserve you. I know there’s a lot of shit going on right now but this is like the fucking worst thing to happen. She worked so damn hard on LEMONADE. This goes to show that these white folks will still use you and not reward you when they know it’s the right thing to do even at the top of your game. The disrespect is too real. I love Beyoncé regardless and nothing is ever going to change that. I’m proud of Beyoncé and thankful that she was able to give me LEMONADE aka the real album of the year.

Only the Best Solas Quotes

There are sooo many. Here are some of my faves. Some are deep as hell, some are pure salt & sass, some are as smooth as his shiny bald head.

  • No real god need prove himself. Anyone who tries is mad or lying. 
  • I enjoy the frilly cakes!
  • We were all young once. Makes me giggle every time.
  • I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is merely an enjoyable side benefit.
  • I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages passed. I woke still weak a year before I joined you.
  • The Inquisitor turns her hawk-like gaze to me, penetrating deep into my most secret desires. Only… Not. I care deeply for many things beyond the Fade. Just not you.
  • The healer has the bloodiest hands.
  • It’s comforting that whatever qualities I lack, you’ll invent for me, Varric.
  • I volunteered to help, Inquisitor. Rattle the bars if you like, but I chose to enter this cage. 
  • Ah - because I am an apostate. I might flee before the Inquisition throws me in chains?
  • Ass.
  • We must mark the occasion of the Dalish remembering something correctly. Perhaps we should plant a tree.
  • Or pomposity…
  • Most people do [forget Fen’Harel]
  • I will try, in my own fumbling way, to try and learn from how you helped to seal the rift at Haven. Ah, wait. My memory misleads me. You were not there.
  • How small the pain of one man seems when weighed against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with fewer ripples.
  • Please speak up - I cannot hear you over your outfit.
  • Provided it tied you down first, one assumes.
  • And of course: ALL OF THE ENJOYABLE SIDE BENEFITS FLIRTS.

If I missed any good ones, add your own!

Okay I know people are still mad about Disney deciding Le Fou is their first canonically gay character but PLEASE go see the movie.

He has beautiful character development and that touch of sadness that makes people root for him! He’s wonderful and a good friend, not just to Gaston! Yes he makes mistakes and is indeed ‘The Fool’ because of his admiration/love for Gaston but he completely turns it around to become a good guy.

His interactions with Gaston definitely ring out to me as accurate to when you’re gay and around a straight person you have a crush on and I found it to be rather believable!

So PLEASE go see the movie before you judge Le Fou and Disneys decision!

4

movie posters ♥ interstellar (2014)

You son of a bitch. I never made one of these when you were still responding because I was so mad at you for leaving. And then when you went quiet, it felt like I should live with that decision… and I have. But today is my birthday. And it’s a special one, because you told me… you once told me that when you come back we might be the same age… and today I’m the age you were when you left. So it would be a real good time for you to come back.

You’re the story I tell when the wind asks about my love for sunsets, the punctuation I erase when our reflections sink into the shore. How does every sign we construct explain how some people are meant to fall in love, but aren’t meant to be together? how new constellations form every time I whisper your name, but the night still drinks the caffeine we left at our feet? I just wanted to be the owner of the galaxies dripping from your eyes, the piece you could live without when our hands are grasping for the leaves falling short of a title we’re still rearranging. The less we talk, the more words mean. The less we smile, the more I find your laughter in every six string song. On my best days, I’m just a breath away from you, but sometimes, I just need a little help getting out of my head. Or when I need to get off the bed, some words push us towards insanity– if you were ever mad at me, would you speak your thoughts? If you ever fell in love with me? Would you tell me? If you wanted to know something unusual– I’ve got you. I enjoy the oddness of questions. Like how it sends us on a quest for the truthful answers midway. I don’t like acronyms because the shortness of letters can never compare to the shortness in my breathing when it comes to the lines of oh my god, you’re beautiful tonight. The less we smile, the more I find your atmosphere most needed– some laughter controls the bleeding, some lovers control the weather, and some nights I need both. Some nights I seem to choke on my regrets, it’s never dinnertime when you’ve got so much on your mind. It’s never writing if you’ve done nothing right. You’re always wrong if you start crying in the middle of a song that triggered certain feelings that you shouldn’t be having. you’re always spacing out whenever the commas start to show how many mistakes you’ve made, how many mistakes it took for you to finally get it, how many apologies it took for you to be forgiven, how many I love you’s were needed for someone to feel like you loved them and not just for the sake of not being alone, how many nights you had to spend living in a dead memory of won’t you stay with me for another hour, how many oceans you had to cry before you realized people sink with you every time you damage them, how many volcanoes you became because stress makes smoking this much easier, how many pills you had to take to forget a name, how many nights you stayed high because shower thoughts brought you back to the razors, how many mornings you spent fucked up because of one fuck up, how many years you’ll toss away to find yourself, how many weeks it’ll take to rewire your brain after a breakup, how many days it’ll take to unfeel everything, how many hours it’ll take to unlove a feeling, how many seconds it’ll take to get it right, how many commas you’ll keep count of to not lose yourself tonight, and how many times you’ll leave yourself in the palms of others instead of your own. if I’m ever on my last dollar, if I’m ever on my last heartbeat, if I’m ever at the end of the line, if I ever forget about you, if I never loved you, if I ever destroyed myself to recreate myself, if I ever feel good enough to get over this depression, if I ever stop and stare into the middle of nowhere and if I never return to who I used to be– remember that this life will cut like a very thin knife into your ribs in search for another comma for another run-on sentence that should not have happened because you always loved to make mistakes without a proper ending or a period to your era of impressional impressions to impress no one in particular you can have all of my mistakes you can have all of my errors you can have all of this red ink to scribble all over this poem you can have my life and call it death to the last day when we’ll never meet again.
—  The Ate & The Bunso
Bucky’s Idea

Hey guys! Here’s another oneshot for you. I wrote this when I was really mad one day and it actually made me feel a whole lot better! Lesson learned, when upset write some Bucky fluff. I hope you guys enjoy, I really like this one. Happy Saturday!

Warnings: angry reader that turns into crazy fluff

Note: The reader has powers similar to Wanda’s, kind of a telekenesis that you’re still learning to use. 

Originally posted by rohgers


Originally posted by sebastianobrien

Steve, Bucky and Sam were in the corner of the gym, filling their water bottles, their foreheads dripping with sweat and their tinted cheeks warm from their workout. Their chests were still rising and falling more rapidly than usual as they joked with each other and set up plans for later that night.

The endorphins running through their systems had them on cloud nine. You, however, felt the opposite.

You hadn’t even bothered to change your clothes before blasting into the gym and hoofing it over to the punching bags that were hanging from the ceiling, waiting for you to take everything out on them.

But Steve got in your way.

“Hey, (Y/N), what-”

“I’ll fix it Steve!” you snapped, making him back off. 

He crawled back over to the corner and took his water bottle from Bucky who had been holding it for him. You didn’t miss Bucky’s wide, slightly fearful eyes.

You pulled your sweatshirt over your head and threw it on the floor, your agitated powers making slide further away than you planned. Left in your leggings and thin tank top, you started throwing punches into the bag in front of you, making it sway back and forth. Even it was afraid of you today.

She did that? Tony’s pissed about that.” Sam whispered. 

“Her powers are linked to her emotions. She’s… having a rough day.” Steve tried to defend you.

“Seems like more than just a rough day. Did you see what she did to that-” Steve stuck out his hand to quiet him, but you had heard Sam’s mumbling.

“You’re next if you don’t shut up, Sam.”

Sam didn’t dare stick around to see if you’d keep your word. But Steve couldn’t leave you like this.

“Hey, why don’t you tell me what’s going on, try to calm down.”

“This is calming me down,” you sneered with a hard punch.

Bucky’s eyes were snapping from you to Steve like he was watching a ping pong match. 

“Come on, (Y/N),” Steve continued.

“I’m fine, leave me alone.”

“At least wrap your hands.”

“I don’t need it, Steve.”

“Yes you do, here.”

I don’t need it!” You wailed and sent the punch bag across the room, ripping it off its hook with your powers.

Steve stared at the bag in complete astonishment. He’d never seen you use your powers for anything destructive, and he had definitely never seen you yell at anyone. Exasperated, he finally gave up. He stalked out of the room with his hands surrendered in the air with a sharp “Fine.”

You moved to another bag a few feet away and started hitting into it, ignoring the sting on your knuckles from the harsh fabric. You were so engrossed in your abuse, you didn’t notice Bucky quietly standing next to you. After a particularly hard hit, you returned your wrists to your home position in front of your face. You jumped in surprise when he grabbed your right forearm and started folding the black, cotton wrap around your hands. 

“By the time you’re done, your knuckles will be raw,” he mumbled.

Within seconds, he was done and walking out of the gym. A pang of guilt ravaged your gut, you had never snapped at the guys before. You decided to ignore your sinking stomach and continue taking your anger out on the bag, you would apologize later. 

You carried on until you could hardly lift your arms, thankful for the wrap around your knuckles. You couldn’t imagine what your hands would look like if Bucky hadn’t helped you. 

The thought made you smile. You and Bucky weren’t very close, but you still work together, counted on each other out in the field. Though you would never say it out loud, you knew he could read you like a book. The one thing you and him had in common was your stubborn attitude, and he knew how to handle you like no one else on the team did.

Your rambling brain stopped as soon as you jumped in the shower. The hot water soothed your muscles and ran down your skin, leaving streaks in its path. You concentrated on the steam rising in the shower stall and fogging up the glass instead of replaying your awful day in your mind, which you had a habit of doing. 

You stood under the water until it ran cold, and only then did you shut it off and change into your favorite pair of pajamas. They were soft and cozy, the shirt was light and the pants long enough to cover your toes.

As you were running a comb through your tangled, damp hair, your stomach rumbled, begging for some kind of dinner. You sighed, knowing that the guys would be downstairs and this was your chance to apologize for being so rude and downright mean to them in the gym.

The elevator led you to the kitchen and before the doors even opened you smelled the scent of delicious pizza. Your mouth began to water and your tummy growled in anticipation.

You walked into the room and received a loud greeting from the guys who were sprawled out on the couches in front of the television. 

“Hey! There she is!”

“We have pizza!”

“And movies. All the ones you like.”

Sam’s body was taking up the entire couch, his feet hanging off the arm rest and his arms held high in the air. Bucky was sitting in the lounge chair next to him, grinning brightly at you, and Steve got up from the chair across the way and started walking over to you.

“What? What is this?” you couldn’t hide your excitement or your astonishment.

“We’re having a movie night. Only if you want to though.” Steve slung his arm around you and walked you over to the kitchen counter holding boxes of your favorite pizza. 

“We wanted to apologize for being up your butt today at the gym. We just hate seeing our little ray of sunshine upset.” He mussed your damp hair and you scoffed at his teasing. 

Steve, not knowing his own strength, pulled you into a one arm hug that resulted in your head being pushed into his arm pit. As you pushed him away, you felt the sting in your arms from your workout earlier. When your giggles ceased, you became much more serious.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was downright mean today and-”

“(Y/N), shut up and eat your pizza!” Sam yelled from the couch, interrupting you.

Steve handed you a plate from the cupboard. You took it with a smile and sighed. “Okay, okay.” 

You caught Steve before he made to return to his spot in front of the television. “Steve, uh, thanks,” you said quietly. A movie night was just what you needed. 

“Oh, it wasn’t me. This was Bucky’s idea,” he said to you and then turned away and plopped down on the couch, leaving you with a gaping jaw. You caught your pizza slice before it fell on the floor and took a bite, your eyes still wide in surprise.

While Sam was starting up your favorite movie you inhaled your first piece of pizza and hurried to grab another and make it to the couch before the credits started. The familiar music made your heart swell, as did being surrounded by your friends. They were pretty special, you decided.

As the movie went on and the warmth from the pizza fizzed away, you began to feel the chill that was almost always in the tower. You regretted only wearing a thin t-shirt when you felt how cold your skin was. 

Luckily, hanging on the arm rest next to you was a familiar looking dark green hoodie. “Hey, Steve, do you mind if I throw this on?” you whispered, earning a scowl from Sam who always hated when someone interrupted his Disney movies.

“Not mine,” he mouthed. Then he pointed to Bucky, telling you it was his.

Your head snapped to the right to find Bucky already looking at you. You weren’t sure how he would feel about you borrowing his clothes, so you stood up and whispered, “I’ll just go get one of mine, be right ba-”

“No, no, just wear mine. It’s okay.” Bucky stuck his hand out to stop you from going anywhere. He grinned and nodded again to tell you he was sure.

You smiled in thanks and plopped down on the couch again, slipping your arms into the over sized sleeves and plunging your head through the hood. You wanted to stay inside, it smelled so good. It didn’t smell like cologne or anything you were familiar with. It just smelled like Bucky, not that you noticed he had a distinct smell before you buried yourself in his sweatshirt. But now that you did, you never wanted to smell anything else. You could even go without the smell of delicious pizza if you could always have the scent of old timey soap and after shave ghosting through your senses. 

However, you tried to be a normal human and when you emerged from the hoodie, you pulled your hair out of the neck and snuggled into the extra fabric that was wrapped around you. You hoped Bucky didn’t noticed how you pulled the sleeves over your hands and brought them up to your face so every inhale was laced with his scent. 

Two movies later, the gang admitted their sleepiness. Sam turned off the TV and you offered to put the pizza away and clean up the kitchen. It was the least you could do, this whole shindig was for you, after all. 

You started putting leftover pizza into plastic baggies as you said goodnight to the guys. Sam ruffled your hair and Steve smoothed your locks back down and kissed your forehead before they both headed upstairs.

You piled the empty boxes on the counter and turned to shut the light off before you finished wiping off the counter. When you turned back, the boxes were gone and Bucky was standing there, sponge in hand. His dark figure made you jump out of your skin and squeal softly. 

“Jeez, Buck, you startled me. I didn’t know you were still down here,” you said with a hand covering your thundering chest. 

“Well, I couldn’t just let you clean all this up by yourself,” he said softly, rinsing off the dirty sponge and setting it on the side of the sink.

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room was the buzz of the refrigerator. Your nervous habit of tucking your hair behind your ear struck again, but it made you notice the thick green material covering your fingers.

“Oh, here, thanks for this,” you said as you started taking off his sweatshirt. 

“No, it’s okay, keep it for now, it’s chilly in here. You can give it to me tomorrow,” he rambled.

“Okay. It is really warm, I might just steal it.” You winked.

“It looks good on ya, brings out your pretty eyes.” His surge of confidence quickly melted away as he cleared his throat and continued to babble. “Uh, it’s from the army. That’s why it’s so warm, they don’t make stuff like that anymore.”

You giggled and then hummed in agreement. You looked down at your hands and wrung them together, the sting from the punching bag reminding you about the guilt you still felt from this morning.

“I’m sorry I was such a jerk today. Um, thanks for…” you lifted your sleeve covered hand, “helping me.”

“Hey, we all have our days,” he said, taking your raised hand in his and rolling up the sleeve, showing your red knuckles. His brow furrowed in concern as he gently ran his fingers over the red marks. He shook his head and breathed a laugh out his nose. “You’re stubborn as all hell, ya know that?”

Your eyes lifted from your hands to his smirk. “I’ve been told once or twice.”

He chuckled softly and you thought of what you could say to make him laugh again. It was a wonderful sound. 

He covered your hand with the sleeve and returned it to your side. “Better lay off the punching bags for a few days.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” You said. He chuckled again and the sound made your chest swell.

You knew the conversation was over, but you didn’t want to leave him just yet. You leaned against the kitchen counter and played with your hair once again trying to find the right words to say.

“Steve told me this was your idea,” you said, implying the movie night.

“Punk,” he interjected, making you giggle. 

“Thanks.” You said simply. 

“Ya know, Steve calls you our ‘ray of sunshine,’” he mocked. “But it’s true. We just hate to see you upset. I hate to see you upset.” He admitted quietly.

What came out of his mouth was not what you expected. You didn’t know what to say. So you rose to your toes, placed a hand on his chest and kissed him quickly on the cheek before saying “Goodnight, Bucky,” and turning away.

You took two steps and you were about to enter the hallway when a hand wrapped around your wrist, turned you around, and pulled you into Bucky’s strong body. His lips quickly latched onto yours in a gentle kiss.

His hands cupped both sides of your face while yours settled on his waist. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and wrapped your arms around him and tugged on the back of his shirt. His fingers pushed through your hair and held your locks at the back of your head. 

If you thought his scent was sweet when you pulled on his sweatshirt, now it was overwhelming. He swam around you and you happily drowned, never wanting to come up for air because it would mean being away from him.

His tongue begged for entrance and you eagerly allowed it, humming happily as it danced with yours and allowed you to taste even more of him. Your brain convinced you if you didn’t touch every inch of him, you’d combust, so you complied. Your fingertips came around from his back and up his chest, pushing his to land on your hips. As your hands wrapped around his neck and tangled in the hair there, his lifted the sweatshirt just enough for his fingertips to land on your skin and leave flames behind.

It felt like years passed, but you wouldn’t mind spending your entire life in his position. Everything he did was so gentle, you’d never felt anything like it. It was addicting. Now that you had a taste of him, you never wanted to let go, and from the way his body was glued to yours, you knew he felt the same way.

You finally pulled away but only far enough to grab a breath. He rested his forehead on yours and held you tightly around your waist.

“If I knew you were going to kiss me back like that I would have done it ages ago.”

You breathed out a laugh and pulled back and looked into his clear blue eyes. Even in the dark they sparkled.

“Well, now you know,” you laughed, running your hand through his hair and trying to memorize the way the his lips curled into that bright toothy smile. You’d never seen him smile like that.  

______________________________________________________________

TAG LIST (IT’S OPEN)

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Foreign poets 
are hotter,
because we know war,
we are born with war, 
we are the war. 
Our poetry has 
the deepest roots. Perhaps, 
the ugliest, the most delicious. 
The sharpest accent. The most
heartbreaking metaphors. 

First generation, second generation, 
and you would still feel 
the agony the white men left
in our grandfathers’ skin. 

And dare me,
I lick my fingers 
and I  eat your European 
food with pride my darlings, 
for our spices made 
your countries.

—  My Grandfathers Own Europe from The Immigration Series by Royla Asghar