I don’t think I’ll ever understand the saying
“butterflies in my stomach”
for that implies

and when you look at me
I feel my heart
stop for a second,
my stomach,
responding with a tight squeeze the kind that happens when you’re at the top of a roller coaster,
right before you’re plunged downwards,
thinking to yourself
that maybe this was a bad idea

but I think I’ll take
the heart-stopping
and stomach-clenching
over delicate fluttering anyday

You know the feeling you get
when you get off a roller coaster heart beating fast,
mind feeling clear,
how that was such a good idea? You make me feel that way.

anonymous asked:

(Non-canon!drarry) What if Harry and Draco got into a fight and Harry says "FUCK YOU MALFOY" and Draco's just pulls out his schedules and asks what time and Harry's all confused and Draco's just rambling on about how he's so busy and then they find a time.

*screeches* READDYYY:

“FUCK YOU MALFOY” Harry screams, the wand clenched tightly in his hand as the two panted loudly.

Draco, in the exact same appearance, blinked, and immediately straightened up after that, looking a bit peeved. To Harry’s great confusion, instead of a comeback, the blond pulled out his schedule, quickly walking over to Harry to show him. Harry naturally winced away but Draco scowled and just yanked him closer. “Malfoy what the he-”

“Shut up, when do you want to do it?” He asked, and then pointed. “We don’t really have the same schedules and depending on the time of day i don’t pass you in the halls, so quickies are not really an option. I’m also kind of busy since i tutor the first years for favors in return so whenever you’re free you’ll have to work around me…”

“Malfoy! What the fuc-”

“Weekends could work as well but i’m usually off doing random shit with Blaise but i suppose i could lie and say i’m busy for an afternoon and then we could head off to the astronomy tower perhaps and-”

“MALFOY.” Harry shook the blond wildly. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

Draco stared at him in surprise. “You said you were going to fuck me. Not going to back out, are you?” He snickered.

Beyond the Horizon: Chapter 30

Fic Update: Beyond the Horizon

Summary:  When Princess Emma’s ship is captured by the Jolly Roger and Captain Killian Jones, she offers herself as a hostage for ransom if he will let the ship and the other passengers go. With Emma, Killian remembers the honour he once held dear, and Emma catches glimpses of the gentleman Killian had been. Against all odds, the pirate and the princess begin to fall for each other. 

Read on

Also if you haven’t seen it, check out the gifset I made to go with the fic here

                                      Chapter Thirty: Reunion

Her father was staring over her shoulder, a muscle ticking in his jaw and his hand clenched tight on the hilt of his sword. They had both seen the ring, her mother was still clutching her hand and staring down at it with a deep frown. If she had been able to take it off, she might have left it back on the Jolly Roger just to avoid the inevitable questions it would bring.

Emma turned and looked at Killian, standing on the deck a few feet behind her. His own hand rested loosely on the hilt of his blade, a ring gleaming on every finger save the one where the sea diamond used to reside. He was standing tall and proud with his chin slightly raised as he met her father’s stare with his own. Killian had given her the ring out of love, he had not merely plucked it off his hand at random as she had thought at the time and a sudden wave of guilt washed over her for even thinking of trying to hide it now. Her father had defied a king and fought so hard for her mother and their true love, and if she had to do the same for the man she had chosen, then so be it.

Keep reading

John knew it was bad news before the doctor even started to speak. He could feel it in his body, the waves of dizziness, the seconds and minutes blending together with pain and confusion. The hallucinations–faint whispers of memories and flashes of Afghanistan, the times before and after. It seemed cliche his life was flashing before his eyes, but he did know he had a little more time, and was grateful it wasn’t sudden. 

Sherlock was beside him, holding his hand tightly and looking at the doctor as she spoke. John caught her words, but didn’t register them right away. Sherlock looked alarmingly at John, his brows furrowing in a slight way, silently pleading for him to react.

“He likely won’t make it during surgery,” the doctor had said. 

John focused on Sherlock and swallowed tightly as he took in Sherlock’s distressed look. His partner’s eyes were glistening, his jaw was clenched, and his expression was hard yet…helpless.

“So…” John started weakly. “You don’t operate, I’ll die. But if you do operate, I may die.” Sherlock stiffened beside him and the doctor nodded. 

John sighed. “Not entirely bad,” he muttered. He looked at Sherlock, who was now looking at the floor. John squeezed his hand, bringing his attention back. Sherlock was clearly having trouble keeping it together as he met John’s eyes.

John let out a deep breath. “I think I want the surgery.”

Sherlock looked at the doctor, his lip trembling slightly. “If he doesn’t, how long does he have…?”

The doctor remained calm as she spoke. “It is hard to say, but it’s likely he won’t make it by the morning.”

Eight hours then, John thought. Sherlock looked back at him, and then slowly nodded. 

John looked at the doctor. “How long can I–” he started, but pain shot through his body and he let out a groan. Sherlock held his hand even tighter and rubbed it soothingly. John let out a shaky breath and then tried again. “How long can I wait before I need to have surgery.”

“An hour at the most,” the doctor provided. “If you want the surgery, it’s best we start as soon as possible.”

John nodded and then looked at Sherlock.


“Yes, John?” Sherlock’s voice was shaky and quiet. John didn’t like it one bit.

“I need you to do something, only if you want to. I’ll understand if you don’t…” John trailed off, suddenly getting choked up. Sherlock leaned closer and looked into his eyes.

“I’ll do anything, John.”

John looked at him through blurry eyes. “Marry me,” he whispered.

Sherlock’s eyes widened and he let go of John’s hand. John’s face fell and his throat tightened. 

“John…” Sherlock trailed off and he blinked rapidly. John was too tired to retract his offer, and he even didn’t want to. He waited as Sherlock collected himself. Sherlock wiped his face and looked at John.

“You can…” he trailed off as he voice shook. He eyes were glistening much more and John was having difficulty keeping his own emotions at bay.

Finally, Sherlock nodded and retook John’s hand. “Ok. Yes, John, I will.”

John relaxed and smiled weakly. The doctor smiled sympathetically and left as she spoke over her shoulder. “I’ll get an officiant.”

Not much time passed before she came back, leading a man behind her. John had forced himself to stay awake, and managed to keep his pain in the back of his head. He wasn’t in much pain anymore, which probably wasn’t a good sign.
The officiant stood by Sherlock, and held a few papers.

“Ready to get started?” he asked with a sympathetic smile.

John nodded and reached for the bed remote. The doctor went over and adjusted it slightly. John grimaced as it moved a couple of inches, and then inhaled deeply, urging himself to stay focused.

“Shall we keep it short and simple, straight to the point?” the officiant asked gently.

“Please,” John managed to say.

Sherlock had remained silent, and now was more attentive, however continued to blink rapidly and keep his face hardened as he took John hands into his own and met his gaze.

“John Watson,” the officiant began. “Do you take Sherlock Holmes to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and trust him in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, and to be true and loyal to him so long as you both shall live?”

John blinked as his eyes watered. He was relieved the officiant treated this as a normal situation, and disregarded the high chance that he probably wasn’t going to live much longer. John met Sherlock’s eyes, and smiled. “I do,” John said steadily. Sherlock’s eyes flickered and his face softened. John let out a shaky sigh and squeezed their hands.

“Do you, Sherlock Holmes, take John Watson to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and trust him in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, and to be true and loyal to him so long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Sherlock said. He blinked and a couple of tears leaked out the corner of his eyes. “Always,” he added in a whisper. John blinked slowly and grinned.

“Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, as the two of you have  agreed to live together in Matrimony, have promised your love for each other, I now declare you husbands. Congratulations.”

John’s smiled wide and Sherlock immediately kissed him. John kissed him back as much as he could, and broke apart by resting his forehead against his. Sherlock sighed shakily. He quickly reached to the table and signed the paper the officiant had brought, and then held it to John. John sighed it as best he could, and then the officiant took it with a sad smile, and left with the doctor.

“We’re married,” John whispered. Sherlock exhaled shakily and nodded. 

“John…” his voice broke and he leaned forward, burying his face against John’s shoulder and neck. John weakly wrapped his arm around his back and kissed his head. 

“I love you,” John whispered. 

Sherlock shuddered and leaned into him closer. “Please, try to–”

“I will, Sherlock. I’m glad we did this…”

Sherlock pulled away and nodded. “I need you to live. So we can…”

Sherlock leaned away and met John’s eyes. Sherlock face was blurry and John knew he was about lose conscience soon. He raised his hand and trailed it across Sherlock’s cheekbone.

“I’ll…” John trailed off as his hand limply fell to his side, and then everything slowly went black.

devaneiossuspensos asked:

I just LOVE how Ethan oozes manliness without even knowing it

It’s the way he clenches his jaw when he’s angry

It’s the way his gun belt hangs low on his hips

It’s the way he broods

The way he smiles

The way he curses

Honestly I could spend the rest of my life listing all the reasons Ethan Chandler is the ultimate male character ever (and the ultimate man of my dreams) but then again this list is kind of endless and I’m sure I have a character limit on this answer box (plus my ovaries are screaming for mercy)

Knights, Damsels, and Contractual Obligations

read it on the AO3 at

by cjr

“Shit,” he said, looking down at his leg and clenching his teeth in pain. He looked up at Derek. “I am so sorry, dude. Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah? I’m fine. Are you?” Derek asked, already forgetting that the guy had just violently crashed into him for no reason. The guy started to nod his head before very clearly getting dizzy and stopping. Derek crawled over to the other and carefully lifted the bike off of his leg, before setting it down farther away. “I think you may need to go to the hospital.”

Words: 2185, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

read it on the AO3 at

anonymous asked:

honestly, saying that you 'cant do any other style' is really selling yourself short, and all that is going to do is stop you from improving at all. you cant be closed off to change, otherwise youre just going to stagnate and not learn anything. learning IS change, IMPROVEMENT is change, and its something you should get more comfortable with if you want to make your art better. you definitely have the potential and drive to do it, so try to be more open to criticism and suggestions and change!

Anonymous said: also dont worry about things ‘not coming out decently,’ youre gonna have to make some mistakes before getting better, and being constantly worried about messing up is only going to make it look like you drew with your teeth clenched the whole time haha. try to relax!

Yeah well I like staying in my comfort zone, and

I can improve just fine without completely changing my style at once :3c
(Explanations are in the tags if you don’t understand what I mean lmao)

*thinks about jack sparrow being immortal and living long enough to become one of the first to explore space looking and running into aliens and recruiting them to join his crew and still sails on the Pearl that’s been modded for space travel*

*clenches fist* damn that’s good shit

What was I looking for when you came painted with the sunrise
The age of the sea within your eyes
And on your body the sun’s vigor-what was I looking for
Deep within sea-caverns amid spacious dreams
Where the emotions foamed of a wind
Anonymous and blue, engraving on my chest its sea emblem
With sand on my fingers, I would close my fingers
With sand in my eyes, I would clench my fingers
This was torment—

Odysseus Elytis, from “Age of Blue Memory,” The Sovereign Sun: Selected Poems (Temple Univ Pr, 1979)


Imagine #19 || Request # 3 

Prompt: imagine Isaac, your ex, getting jealous when he sees you with another guy thinking that you guys are still dating.

this is a happy ending request by the way :)



“Back to your seat!” You heard coach Finstock said right after he blew the whistle, pointing at the guy that was leaning his head on the back rest of your seat, smiling at you. The boy groaned and walked away while you looked down and coughed trying to cover up the chuckle that was getting away.

As you watched the guy walking to his seat up front, you saw Boyd turn to Isaac and tell him something that made Isaac’s clenched jaw seem to clench more before Isaac himself turn to the werewolf beside him and reply in an angry looking manner which made your brows furrow.

Typical you thought in annoyance.

Keep reading


        “You’re not going, and that’s final.”  Derek growled, giving you his best glare to try to intimidate you into following his orders.

        “This isn’t your decision to make!  I’m a big girl Derek, I can handle myself.”  You argued, not allowing yourself to back down on this fight.  There was too much at stake for you to just sit at the loft and twiddle your thumbs like Derek always wanted you to do.

        “We’ve handled things without you before, we can do it again.”  Derek countered, his hands clenching tightly in aggravation.  This was a constant argument between the two of you.  Derek would never let you help the pack when it came to something that might lead to a fight.  You couldn’t understand it.  Stiles and Allison got to help, why couldn’t you?

        “This is different Derek!  Stiles needs help, and the more people we have trying to get the Nogitsune the better our chances are at being successful.  I can help!  You let Stiles help all the time.  Let me take his place and help while he can’t!”  You shouted, your own anger and frustration reaching a new level. This was important to you, and you weren’t going to back down on it anytime soon.  Derek glowered at you again, a loud growl emanating from his throat at your stubbornness.

        “Letting Stiles help is different.”  He started again, only for you to jump in.

        “Why?  Because you think he can take care of himself better?  Because you think he’s better than me?”  You shot back, refusing to crack a smile at the huff that emitted from your boyfriend.

        “Because if Stiles get hurt it won’t break me as much as it would if you got hurt!”  He shouted back, both of you pausing to let his words sink in.  As the silence between you stretched longer you could feel the tension in the room dissipate.

        “This is about you wanting to protect me?”  You asked, sighing heavily as your anger left your body and you slouched forward against the kitchen countertop.  Derek fidgeted uncomfortably before nodding slowly.

        “I don’t want you putting yourself in harms way. Too many people have died or gotten hurt in this town.  Because of me.  I’m not letting your name get added to the list.”  He finally confessed, looking almost sheepish.  You sighed heavily and walked around the counter to him, wrapping your arms securely around his middle and hugging yourself to him.

        “Derek, I’m not going to get hurt.  I trust you all to protect me, and I know enough to be able to protect myself if I have to.  I want to help.”  You said quietly, hoping not to start another round with him.  He sighed deeply, chest rising and falling under your head before you felt his arms lock around your back, his lips pressing into the hair at the top of your head quickly.

        “You have to do exactly what I tell you to. Stay within arms reach at all times, and if I tell you to run you do it.  You get out of there if it looks like it’s going to be bad, understood?” He commanded, tightening his grip around you.

        “Understood.”  You repeated happily.  

thespartzter asked:

[The Raptors au sounds fun](Ace-woodward) Ace was in the park, attempting to sneak into one of the preserves.

(( hell yeah bro )) Sheriff spotted him, his heart leaping in his chest as he watched him make his attempt. “Hey, what the hell do ya think yer doing?!” He stormed over, his fists clenched.

someone: says atls new stuff is a huge improvement from their older stuff

me: clenches put up or shut up to my chest, silent tears streaming down my face

Hera and Kanan having biological kids isn’t an idea that works for me - just because I don’t think it would work with the lives that they lead, they are too dedicated and pragmatic to introduce a child into that life. They already have three walking disasters to keep track of (or four if you include Chopper) (or six because they are all disasters of sad). But I am all for them introducing one or two additional disasters to their mess of a family over the years.

The crew swooping into a Twi’Lek refugee camp too late - they got the intel too late to save them from the Empire. Completely ravaged, not a living soul to be found (Hera’s heart clenching in her chest because these are her people, her people, and time and time and time again she fails them and they die. They keep dying.) Then Ezra picks up something and they start pulling wreckage, and right there is a blue Twi’Lek girl, no more than eleven,  who has buried herself deep and somehow avoided the fate of everyone she has ever known.

Sad shades of Numa.

Obviously the crew take her with them, Hera  coaxing her out of her hole as quickly as she can - the Imps are still worryingly close. The familiarity of her skin and headtails encouraging the girl to trust her (just her, those humans are too much like the Imperials, and she won’t even look at the big purple monster except out of the corner of her eye).  They go speeding out of the system in the nick of time, but obviously something comes up and they have to make detours (a whole host of detours) before they can head back to the Alliance. Hera knows people - compatriots from her youth in Free Ryloth, working to save and preserve the shreds of their world, of their culture. They will welcome they girl with open arms. Hijinks, as always, ensue, and it turns out the girl is a deft hand with a toolbox and gets them out of a scrape or two (Chopper is of course resentful of yet another tiny organic coming in and distracting and disrupting).

They finally get back to the fleet, and Hera hesitates over making the call. After talking it over with Kanan, she sits down with the girl. She explains everything - about their lives, about they do, how they live. What happened to her home and family and why. What happened to their world. She tells her about the potential new home she could have. But there is also a bunk for her there. On the Ghost. They wouldn’t replace her family, but they could be a new one. if she wanted. And then Hera offers the girl a choice. They’ll be in downtime for another while - reassessing after that disaster. So she can see, acclimatise. Possibly meet the other option. But the choice is hers and hers alone.

the good hc is jstu mia supporting both maya and phoenix thru their transitions [me clenching my fist and looking into the distance with tears in my eyes] thats the good good

Catch My Heart >> Jungkook, you (Part 3)

You guys are amazing~ Here is part 3 Enjoy~

Part 1| 2

The laptop screen shining brightly in front of him, over his face, making the dark circles under his eyes from exhaustion appeared clearly.

Words and picture had been viewed in front of him. Names of your friends and family members, anyone that would be suspected of doing all of this too. He had been staring at them for a whole two days, since you made your proceedings.

There wasn’t much that he didn’t know already about you. He couldn’t deny that his heart clenched when he saw your name on the proceedings. He thought it was someone else, but it turned out to be you after all.  

Squeezing the tiredness from his eyes, Jungkook sighed, arching his back. Who would be doing this to you?

He knew that you are pretty and cool, even after all of those years, he still thought the same. But still not to the point someone would actually stalker you.

He smiled to himself imagining how you would have reacted if you have heard him saying that.

You would have put your hand over your hip and glared at him, after flickering your hair backwards. You would have scolded him, telling him ‘are you looking down on me?’ The thought made him smile more. It was just like you, to react like this.

Yugyeom flashed in front of his mind, before his eyes. Him, holding your hands and going on dates with you. Yugyeom and you, hugging each other when you were crying, comforting you instead of him.

Jungkook imagined things that could possibly happen between the both of you over the 7 years he was away. It only led to his anger to rise to his ears as they reddened with heat. Something boiled in his chest, near his heart.  


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Her name is Omarosa.

Not that anyone has bothered to ask. They keep her awake at all hours with their incessant chanting and melodramatic demands. “Free Lophii!” and “Fish are friends not fiends!” They’ve made her their personal cause, their mission, their reason. But no-one has bothered to ask her name.

She misses Lilita and her visits. Mostly, she misses being fed. It’s hard work maintaining a corporeal form after eons of existence. Every time one of those talking flesh stalks gets close enough for her to smell, her ancient organs twist and clench with hunger.

The hunger makes her irritable, which is a shame because she’s usually very agreeable. She was even called ‘charming’ once, some centuries ago. But she’s beginning to chafe against the rocky crater, and the damned toothpick in her eye stings. She wishes someone would take it out, and then volunteer themselves to be devoured. If they really wanted to help, they’d be sacrificing themselves up to her instead of brandishing silly signs about.

But here are whispers of change, of an oncoming storm. She hopes for fire and lightning and death, but for now, she wiggles around in her hole and waits.

She’s very good at waiting.

“He’s no good for you, y/n.” He mumbles, his hand moving towards mine before I move it away. “Harry, we are over. We’ve been over. You don’t have control over who I go out with.” I snap back, my voice low but thick with annoyance and anger. “The way he’s looking at you- like you’re some piece of meat… He wants nothing more than sex with you and I don’t want you getting hurt!” He responds, his jaw tense and his fingers clenching slightly. “Says the one who hurt me in the first place. Harry, if you hadn’t left me broken we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. This is no one’s fault but your own and you don’t even know him- you have no right to say that.” I spit back, my eyes narrowing in frustration. “I can just tell y/n, trust me. I know I hurt you and it was the biggest mistake of my life. I don’t want to see you broken again, that’s why I’m telling you to not go out with him.” He responds quickly, pain flashing through his eyes. “Leave me alone, Harry. I’m a big girl and I can make my own decisions.” I say, turning on my heel and walking back towards the bar. A hand quickly latches onto my arm, turning me around and pulling me against a toned chest, a pair of lips crashing against my own. My eyes flutter closed and my lips move before I can register what’s happening. The reality of the situation hits me like a wall and I pull away, shoving Harry away from me, glaring at him. A pleading look appears in his eyes, his bottom lip pouting out. “I still love you, y/n and I can tell your feelings haven’t changed either. Don’t go with him; come with me instead.” He begs, reaching out for my hand once again. I step back, crossing my arms against my chest and hardening my gaze. “Never again.” I whisper, breaking our gaze and backing away, turning my back on my past.