exploding house

anonymous asked:

hi. use this ask as an excuse to write more things about loren blake. thank you and you're welcome.

Pffffft like I need an excuse xp he’s quickly become the most asked for character on my blog; which I’m not complaining about! <33333 none of this is planned, I just thought of Loren as I wrote this and whatever’s below is the result! ^^

  • He doesn’t eat much. Not because he has a disorder or anything, he just never has much of an appetite. He eats to survive and that’s about it.
  • He drinks a lot of blood laced wine, though.
  • His bedroom is littered with piles upon piles of poems, old and new. There’s no system to it but he never tidies it because then he can never find anything.
  • He sleeps with his cat, Wolverine, on the pillow beside his head. He wakes sometimes to check his kitty is still there and often falls asleep with his hand in Wolverine’s fur.
  • He’s the only one who can scoop Wolverine up for a cuddle or stroke him without the risk of losing his face or hand. He has a very grumpy kitty.
  • Loren sleeps into a long sleeved shirt and sweatpants. Both have the House Of Night insignia.
  • He isn’t very ambitious and is pretty content just living his life with his poetry.
  • He goes for moonlit walks every full moon.
  • The moon speaks to him and if he stands under the big tree by the East Wall while the moon is full overhead, inspiration seems to never end.
  • His mind is always busy and he sometimes gets migraines.
  • He listens to classical music and heavy rock - there’s no medium between the two, it’s one or the other.
  • Chili chocolate is his favourite thing.
  • He drinks mostly green tea and blood laced wine. 
  • Japanese snacks are in his desk and cupboards.
  • He can speak fluent Japanese and goes to Japan during the holidays.
  • He people-watches.
  • People often think he’s concentrating and therefore can’t hear anything around him but he’s listening to everything everyone says around him. 
  • He’s got the dirt on everyone and uses it to his advantage when he has to.
  • Loren has only had two, maybe three partners in his life.
  • He’s not all that interested in dating; people get in the way of his creativity and that annoys him.
  • He knows what makes people tick and can be found reading psychology journals.
  • He always has the right words to say. Always.
  • But he’s shit at comforting himself because he rarely needs comforting.
  • He often disappears for hours, days at a time. No one knows where he goes but he always comes back right when he’s needed.
  • He can run on four hours of sleep and typically lives off naps.
  • His last thought was of Zoey and his betrayal.
US Presidents As Dril Tweets
  • George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it
  • John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.
  • Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts
  • James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby
  • James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"
  • John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit
  • Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!
  • Martin Van Buren: Food $200
  • Data $150
  • Rent $800
  • Candles $3,600
  • Utility $150
  • someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying
  • William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good
  • John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this
  • James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom
  • Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying
  • Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...
  • Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin
  • James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...
  • Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"
  • Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off
  • Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT
  • Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,
  • James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now
  • Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark
  • Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site
  • Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc
  • William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!
  • William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*
  • Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer
  • Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me
  • Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals
  • Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud
  • Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me
  • Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume
  • Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed
  • John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self
  • Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"
  • Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups
  • Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right
  • Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again
  • Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn
  • George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT
  • Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,
  • George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,
  • Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line
  • Donald Trump: no
  • Slytherin: You think you're a better kisser than me?
  • Ravenclaw: *raises eyebrows*
  • Slytherin: You think you're a better cuddler?
  • Ravenclaw: *raises eyebrows further*
  • Slytherin: Come over here and prove it, punk.
  • Ravenclaw: *eyebrows explode into space*

Tony Stark survives an explosion created by his own hands a few feet away from him with only shrapnel in his chest, survives chest surgery with no drugs to numb the pain, survives torture and waterboarding while having a car battery attached to his chest, survives the walk through the desert with no water, survives the climatic ending explosion, survives palladium poisoning, survives race car crash with only scrapes and bruises, survives god nearly strangling him, survives flying a nuke into space with no oxygen, survives multiple panic attacks, survives house exploding around him, survives snow and freezing temperatures in a shirt and pants, survives experimented human torches attacking him, survives climatic ending battle, survives battle against multiple buggy iron suits, survives thunder god nearly strangling him, and survives direct hit from the winter soldier.

All without his suit. 

Tell me again are we really sure Tony is just a normal very intelligent citizen and doesn’t secretly carry some form of recreated supersoldier serum that Howard probably experimented on him with. Because otherwise Tony Stark is a helluva tough guy. 

I got a little mixed up with the dates, so here’s the promised fic rec list for this week. In the interest of not overloading myself with Projects and making sure I can actually post recs more regularly, I’m gonna keep the format simple. So here are ten fics I’ve read and enjoyed recently!

Mates and Mushrooms | mikkimouse ( @mad-madam-m​ ) | 11,536 | Explicit | 2017-07-31

Derek’s not that excited about spending three days at a conference getting propositioned by every Alpha with a single pack member. Stiles has a plan to make it stop.

It might be a great plan…if only Derek weren’t head over heels in love with him.

It might be an even better plan if someone at the conference didn’t have a vested interest in Derek staying single.

Sleeping Next To You Is Like Magic | @LadyDrace | 11,886 | Teen | 2017-07-30

Stiles and Derek meet the summer before senior year. Stiles can’t sleep, Derek helps with that, and there’s a lot less cuddling and a lot more emotional crises than you’d think.


Stiles’ feelings happen so much, and learning how to deal with them takes him a little while. Good thing Derek is happy to wait.

By The Beautiful Sea | @clotpolesonly​ | 4,944 | Gen | 2017-07-13 

Stiles gets the very last scoop of salt water taffy ice cream, much to the chagrin of the gorgeous dude behind him in line. The gigantic stray dog is thrilled though, at least when Stiles gives in to the begging and lets him have half of it. The beautiful woman across the street thinks it’s all hilarious for some reason, and Scott just really needs to try this ice cream.

No Refunds or Exchanges | @badwolfbadwolf | 18,916 | Mature | 2014-12-25

Stiles is the newest deputy in the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department, and has maybe just been a little in love with Derek Hale since Stiles had made a fool of himself in front of him at the SD summer picnic a few years ago. Being married to him—only for the sake of not getting deported—is going to suck in new and unusual ways.

Celestial Navigation | @alocalband​ | 12,492 | Mature | 2017-07-07

A year after the death of his sister, while struggling with social anxiety and writer’s block, Derek decides to start over somewhere new.

A Crooked Way to Fly | @andavs​ | 14,982 | Gen | 2017-07-04

“We can’t just leave him here to die.”

“He’s an emissary, Scott.” Derek tried to make his tone empathetic, but Scott’s tendency to fight back on everything always grated on his nerves. “His pack is gone, he won’t survive more than a day or two either way.”

“Then we should stay with him.”

Derek sighed as he studied the man for a moment; he was too pale against the fur rim of his hood, almost grey from lying out in the snow, and his cloak was stained with dark dried blood around a protruding arrow shaft. It was unlikely he would even last the night. They would probably be able to carry on in the morning with little time lost, if any.

It wasn’t a horrible idea, Derek decided reluctantly. They hadn’t been able to set up a real camp for a few weeks in the open foothills, and they were all on edge from sleeping in exposed areas. A defensible place to sleep would be good for them, even if they were surrounded by death. They would be able to give the pack proper burials, at the very least.

“Fine. One night,” Derek relented, already moving away to check on Isaac. “He’s your responsibility.”

The Dream That You WishSylvieW ( @sylvie-w ) | 10,759 | Teen | 2017-02-17

…Guys, it’s a Cinderella AU, I don’t know what more to tell you.

I won’t sleep if you won’t sleep | dragon_temeraire ( @dragon-temeraire ) | 4,085 | Teen | 2017-01-05

After the nogitsune, Stiles is unable to sleep. To help, he has a spell cast on him that will link him with Derek.

chase away sorrow | @thealmostrhetoricalquestion | 10,056 | Gen | 2017-05-10

A faery rises up out of a crack in the sidewalk, a hollow-boned twist of silver skin and empty eyes, and Derek almost swallows his tongue in shock, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street. It’s not unusual, exactly, for monsters to walk the streets with humans – Derek should know, since being a werewolf isn’t exactly considered human, and that’s exactly what Derek is – but it is unusual for them to sprout up like a weed with little regard for who sees them do it.

It’s also unusual for them to stare right at Derek, one arm stretched out in front of them impatiently, something green caged in the confines of their spindly fingers.

Derek watches the creature leave, slightly stunned, and then hesitantly reads the note.

See you soon, sourwolf.

Blackbird | skoosiepants ( @pantstomatch ) | 25,134 | Teen | 2017-06-22

Stiles groans and drops his face into his hands. “I’m seventeen, I can kind of use mountain ash and I can explode houses when I’m mad enough. How am I gonna win any kind of magic fight?”

“We’ll work on it,” Deaton says, as infuriatingly calm as ever. “The important thing to remember, Stiles, is that when everything else is chaos, you’re the port in the storm.”


Laura Hale never died, and Stiles is magic.

anonymous asked:

Hi, I was wondering if you have any fics or I don't know a hidden tag for Stiles hiding that he's supernatural from the pack or just Stiles keeping secrets? Anyway, thank you for all the hard work!


He’s…Something by countrygirlsfun

Stiles has to admit, keeping his secret under wraps is easier than he expected around his new-found werewolf friends.

Except for the Alpha that is never where he should be.

Blackbird by skoosiepants

Stiles groans and drops his face into his hands. “I’m seventeen, I can kind of use mountain ash and I can explode houses when I’m mad enough. How am I gonna win any kind of magic fight?”

“We’ll work on it,” Deaton says, as infuriatingly calm as ever. “The important thing to remember, Stiles, is that when everything else is chaos, you’re the port in the storm.”


Laura Hale never died, and Stiles is magic.

Danger in Motion by howl-to-the-wind

There was something dangerous about Stiles.

Derek first realized this one summer evening when he rounded the corner just in time to see Stiles swing a crowbar at a witch’s head, cleaving her jaw right off her face.

Suddenly you’re standing still by gottalovev

A long time ago, Stiles promised his mom that he’d never cross the Hale property lines. He has kept his word even if there hasn’t been a Hale in Beacon Hills for years, not since the fire. But suddenly Scott gets turned into a werewolf, Derek Hale is back, and Stiles has to share his biggest secret. (AU set in S1+ where Stiles is a born werefox)

a dying breed that still believes by paxlux

He thinks, Mom, we can do this, we’ll fly.

Being an American today is like watching your house slowly catch on fire and not being able to do anything about it and freaking out, when suddenly you hear a “BOOM!” behind you and it’s Britain, their house just exploded and is REALLY on fire and you, helpless, just wave hello from across the street.

Hide & Seek

Word Count: a ridiculously gratuitous 6,236

Warnings: cold libraries, fight or flight instincts (and their consequences), obnoxious whistling, menacing footwear, a severe lack of illumination. 

As always, thank you for reading as well as your unending support and patience. PLEASE tell me what you think, even the smallest comment is equivalent to eight (8) glasses of water, and will make my skin glow. 

The polished black of Tommy’s shoes shone as he rocked back and forth on his heels, and you struggled to hold in a giggle.

“You are adorably predictable and therefore horrible at hiding,” he said, squatting down to where you sat under a table. Along his household travels to find your hiding spot he had found whiskey, and you reached for both him and the bottle to drag them into what was apparently a poorly-chosen hiding spot.

“No fun,” you grumbled, pulling Tommy on top of you by his tie, “I am good at hiding, you’re just annoyingly good at seeking.”

“I’m good at lots of things,” he said, undoing the top buttons of your dress to press his lips to your collarbone “But you tried very hard, and I admire your efforts.”

“Not hard enough,” you replied, and you hoped the whiskey was corked when you knocked the bottle heavily on its side, throwing your arms around Tommy’s cologne-scented neck.

Tommy pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against yours with an arched brow, his sculpted face alight with amusement as he teased you, “You poor thing.”

“Perhaps-” your quip cut off as Tommy pressed his lips to yours until you giggled into his mouth and pushed him away, “-perhaps, I should have gotten a longer head start.”

Leaning over you, Tommy’s eyes were squinted with a glacial sarcasm, “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you murmured, undoing his tie and throwing it across the room, “I deserve it, don’t I?”

Tommy slid his hands down your body and gathered your dress to your waist, his eyes not leaving yours. Hooking his thumbs in your underwear he slowly began to drag them downwards, your knees bending automatically so he could push it down your calves. Leaving you to kick it from your feet, Tommy pushed your thighs apart with a calloused hand and dipped a finger into you, inhaling your sigh and drawing light and tortuously soft circles around your clit until your eyelids fluttered and your breath hitched.

“Well unless you want another half minute head start instead of a whole one, you best get a move on,” he said, taking his hand out from between your legs so he could trace your lips.

You groaned, pouting, and pressed your hips upward, feeling his hardening cock through his pants. “You’re cruel.”

“I can be, can’t I?” Tommy mused before he paused, smelling the perfume on your neck before pressing his lips gently to the corner of your open mouth, “and when I find you…”

He didn’t bother to finish his sentence.

Tommy’s promise curled around your brain in a red haze, your back arching off the floor in need as Tommy slowly pushed two fingers inside your tightness before drawing them back out, squeezing your throat as he did so. “You have one minute.”


“Fifty-seven, fifty-six, fifty-five…” Tommy’s eyes were mischievous pieces of ice, the shadows from the moonlight making the carvings of his face devilish with his lips upturned.

The quiet desire that ran under Tommy’s amused tone was both a covenant and a threat, and it did in fact make you want to hide. Grinning wickedly, you let your lust ebb and squeezed Tommy’s sides with your knees to flip him onto his back, rolling right off him and out from under the table before doubling-back in afterthought for the whiskey. You made sure your cleavage was in Tommy’s face as you reached over his head for the bottle, brushing your breasts against his face on your way back out, leaving your hiding place behind and sprinting out the parlor door.

Dust motes floated gently in the warm evening sun, making the house feel all the more empty, the only sound coming from the sconces and chandeliers humming quietly with electricity around you. You switched them off, the long slats of sunset from the windows still bright enough to cut the shadows of the hallway apart, bending up sharply where the floor met the wall.

The illusion of emptiness soon shattered, however, the noise of the Shelby’s and Blinders that had come to stay for the last weekend of summer trickled in from somewhere far outside, growing loud with their increasing drunkenness as dinner died down, rivaling only the singing cicadas. You had gone inside to seek out more champagne and Tommy had soon followed, chasing after you and snatching at your dress like you were teenagers again when you tried to choose champagne over him.

You spared a moment to gaze out a window towards the tree line, the dark forest coming to an abrupt halt where the manicured edge of the lawn began, fireflies blinking slowly like a twinkling carpet of fairy lights. The horses grazed in the distance, happy dark spots in their pasture. Esme suddenly appeared on the lawn, running barefoot through the grass and shrieking while John chased after her.

The glaze over your eyes dropped and a curse slipped from your lips as you heard Tommy clear his throat obnoxiously somewhere behind you - thankfully not too close - as if he knew you were dallying, and you left Esme and John to their chase to turn your attention back to your own.

Taking a heavily generous swig of whiskey, you corked the bottle before sitting it on the center of the carpet, a taunt for Tommy to enjoy during his first choice of left or right at the intersection of hallways. The guest wing was complicated, as was most of the house, a feature of inhabiting a manor of old. When you and Tommy had come to look at the property you’d gone off alone and nearly gotten lost. The rooms were identical and numerous, some of them with connecting doors - an excellent maze to hide in.

Tommy thankfully cared little for the guest wing and didn’t know it like you did. Smiling with childish excitement, you chose left and weaved through the halls before you slid on your heels and sharply ducked into an empty room, the door half-open in beckoning.

Attempting to stuff your body into an empty cabinet and failing you tumbled out, landing clumsily on your feet and laughing at yourself, trying to be as quiet as you could. You quickly scanned your other, more feasible options before gracefully shifting yourself into the hanging drapes around one of the arching windows; the green silk was heavy and hung far enough to cover your feet, tickling your toes. The inner panel was pale and sheer, and you allowed one eye to peek through as you waited for Tommy to catch up to you.

Giddily but tensely you waited, a ticking clock on the mantle rhythmically informed you of how much time was passing. By now your advantageous minute was long since up, and you were surprised Tommy hadn’t stalked this way yet. A challenge was not something he took lightly in any context, the prospect only sweetened when the conquest was you - the latter a condition that his covetous gaze and capable touch had made perfectly clear.

The warmth of the whiskey snaked up your spine and between your legs, reminding you that there was only one way this game would end. Shifting your weight carefully to stifle your throbbing and shoving the thoughts of Tommy’s lips away, you anxiously tried to extend your hearing as far as it could reach, finding nothing.

Just as you began to get bored you heard him. Tommy’s footsteps were dull on the carpet, even-paced and slow, taking his time as he made his way through the corridor.

Tommy began to shut any door that was open, the sounds like ominous claps in the night. You held your breath as he came across the room you were hiding within, but he didn’t pause more than he did before any other room, merely shutting you in and moving on.

The seconds dragged until Tommy reached the end of the hallway where he stopped, and you covered your mouth to hold in your anxious laughter. It threatened to escape your chest as the silence grew so deafening your ears began to ring with it.

With a sudden snap the lamps of the hall flicked off, the small slit of light underneath the door disappearing, your laughter halting and your breath catching.  Since you’d been in hiding the sun had dropped below the horizon and was no longer enough to fight off the shadows.

Nostalgia washed over you as did the familiar and apprehensive fear that came from hide-and-seek, but the edge that this game held was neither familiar nor suitable for children.

But then surprisingly and without a word, Tommy left the way he came, whistling loudly, playing with you. You rolled your eyes and listened to him fade back into the house.

Unsure of what to do, you argued with yourself silently, the prospect of waiting behind a curtain until Tommy cornered you was boring and unappealing. But you also considered that perhaps Tommy wouldn’t be coming for you at all. Tommy wasn’t exactly the master of being patient, but waiting for you to fall into a trap was something you figured he would gladly find extra patience for, a wolf willing to wait if it meant his spoils would come to him.

But if you could find a place where you could put your own impatience to rest - a room with something more to do than stand behind a curtain - you could wait for hours if it meant riling Tommy’s hunger into seeking you out; perhaps there was a way to win after all, and you knew just where you would go.

But making it there would be the hard part. Risking nothing more than sticking your head out into the hallway, you found it empty and intimidating, the sight of the shut doors giving you an unease that nearly drove you back behind the safety of your curtain.

Uneasy or not, you stuck to your plan and left safety behind, your toes sinking into the carpet. Pausing for a moment after you took your first step forward, you waited for the house to explode around you. When it didn’t, you cautiously began down the hall, looking both ways when you reached the end.

Not having yet encountered Tommy in the darkness you made it back to where you’d left the whiskey, unsurprisingly finding it gone. Daring a glance over your shoulder, you left the halls behind and began to run quietly on your toes, holding your dress up from your ankles to avoid a conspicuous stumble as you ran back the way you came.

But you went above and beyond being conspicuous when you slammed into something warm and solid, nearly concussing yourself and yelping loudly.

“The fuck are you doing?” the mass said, slurring slightly.

You clutched your chest and bent over in relief when you realized it was only John, looking at you with a scrunched expression that was half confusion and half annoyance. But you didn’t have time to explain, Tommy had no doubt heard your shriek and imagining the smirk that was currently spreading across his carved face made your legs want to run.

“Move!” you squealed, darting around John as you took off towards the stairs.

“Oi!” he called after you, “Was Esme fuckin’ hiding back there?”

Only laughing in answer, you left John behind and descended the steps quickly with your heart pounding and your dress billowing behind you.

The first floor of the house was quiet, where everyone else was you didn’t know. You padded across the floor, not sparing a second to wonder about anyone but Tommy. You had no doubt that your shriek had been a siren song for him, and that his whereabouts were rapidly drawing closer to yours. Pressing the gilded door handle down, you made just enough space for your body to slip through before quietly shutting yourself into the library.

You smiled at the sight of your favorite place in the house, the high ceilings warm with the chandelier’s glow. Decorating it had taken ages, and Tommy had listened patiently to all of your plans - equally as patient each time you changed your mind and began again. But he never could resist teasing you, flicking your nose and asking you if the books cared whether the chairs in their room had red or navy colored cushions.

Standing with one knee on the golden cushion of a chaise, the silk of your dress whispered against your skin as you arched and pulled it over your head; it plumed gracefully in the air before settling on the floor. Beating Tommy at his own game was only possible when you had the element of surprise, and after he’d teased you half to death you decided to end the game in your favor whether you’d pay for it or not. You poured yourself a whiskey and downed it in celebration of a game well played.

Before you began to arrange your naked body on the chaise a chill from cold and not pleasure ran up your skin, the August nights beginning to cool as they faded towards September. Perfectly hardened nipples were never a bad thing, and you were sure Tommy would soon agree, but you could do without the orchestra of your rattling teeth.

With little steps on your tiptoes, arms hugging your chest, you ran to the back of the library. The alcove in the back corner was where you spent most of your time, and also where you had left a window open this morning.

Just as you fastened the window shut, the door to the library opened and you froze.

You tiptoed to the nearest bookshelf and peeked through a crack between a Dickens and a Keats to find none other than Tommy. Tieless and sly looking, he scanned the room devilishly before he saw your dress lying on the floor. Letting out a low chuckle, he looked around the room once more - looking very pleased with himself - before he turned and locked the door behind him, the crimson luster of his suit vest shining.

“Leaving me clues now, eh?” Tommy asked smugly, “Seems like somebody wants to be found, is that right?”

“Fuck,” you whispered, cursing yourself, the window, your dress; anything you could blame, you did.

Tommy slid his hands in his pockets and leisurely stepped over your dress in a single stride, moving towards the window and flicking the brass light switch off on his way. The light from the chandeliers disappeared with a click.

You cursed yourself again, watching Tommy step into the wan moonlight that now slanted across the floor in the absence of the chandeliers’ golden glow. He kept one hand in his pocket while he lazily pulled the curtain shut by its heavy and tasseled cord, taking his time to ensnare you and knowing you were watching him do it.

Silently, you seized the opportunity to dart out behind his back. High on your toes you moved between the bookcases, careful to keep an eye on Tommy until he pulled the last curtain shut and disappeared from sight.

But everything else disappeared from sight as well, and your pupils pricked as they rushed to expand, soaking up the growing darkness as much as they could. Stopping in your tracks, you held your breath and listened for any signs of Tommy while you willed your eyes to attune. The only light came from the amber slit under the library door, and although it flaunted both escape and victory it was not nearly bright enough to help you get there.

Gracefully you weaved through the bookshelves, stopping when you thought you heard a sound apart from your own shaking breaths. Your mind began to spin circles around itself as you wondered if Tommy’s steps were real or imagined. His scent would fill your nose, the cologne, soap, and tobacco making you whirl around before it disappeared.

You knew Tommy wouldn’t wait for long now that he had you where he wanted, and the nostalgically fearsome adrenaline of hide-and-seek sent chills across your skin once more. Part of you wanted nothing more than to surrender and run at him - or at least where you thought he might be - but your pride kept you moving, and you tried to ignore the sentence he never finished.

And when I find you…

Nearing the dark shape of the chaise you dared a glance around, holding your breath. Tommy’s form was nowhere that you could see, so you swiftly dropped to your knees and began to search for your dress. You spread your fingers out and pressed them carefully into different spots on the rug, fear running a sharp nail up your spine when your hands found nothing; you were spending too much time in one spot. Swearing silently to yourself you spanned further out, your nails scratching the carpet as your movements grew fast and sloppy with panic.

When you hit something hard you stopped to close your hand around it to see what it was. The smooth leather gave slightly under your squeeze and your blood froze.

Releasing Tommy’s shoe, you squealed and pushed off the ground, choosing flight versus fight and scrambling to your feet. You didn’t make it three strides before he was on you, his arms snaking around your torso tightly.

“Looking for this?” he asked innocently, letting your dress run over your face and down your body before it fell to the floor.

Tommy didn’t wait for a response, knotting his hand in your hair and crushing your lips to his, his tongue pouring into your mouth. The rugged skin of his hands scraped the softness of your back, the chain of his pocketwatch icy on your stomach and no doubt leaving linked marks on your flesh as Tommy held you to him.

The adrenaline of being caught roared in your veins and you fought against him with instinct and defiance. Trying to wrench yourself out of Tommy’s grip, you twisted your body as much as you could in the hold of his taut muscles, the bands of them rippling as he laughed at your tantrum, the sound hot in your mouth.

But it was a battle you quickly discovered you would lose, your ferocious wriggling nothing to him. Tommy’s laughter tapered off into a husky chuckle and he only squeezed you tighter, letting you tire yourself out. And tire you did, your imminent loss drawing whines from your chest as your aching muscles began to slacken in his arms.

Tommy took advantage and spun you around, grabbing your upper arms he pulled them behind you to hold them fast in the crook of his arm. Shushing your whimpers, he brought your head back with a hand on your throat, ducking to you so he could press his lips to the delicate skin under your ear, his teeth scraping deliciously.

“Are we quite finished?” his voice was dangerous and smooth, something sharp covered in velvet. You rasped dissent under the squeeze of his hand and Tommy sighed heavily, “Stubborn little thing, you are.”

The solid muscles of his chest rumbled on your pinned arms as he said your name thrice, chiding you while he walked you forward in the darkness, your feet scrambling to keep up with his large strides. Each utterance vibrated down your spine and through your tightening pussy, the raw throbbing reminding you Tommy’s desire was never something you could resist for long. Attempts to deny him were nothing more than acts, and this would soon be yet another tiring sacrifice for the sake of your pride.

Tommy held you firm in one arm as he yanked the curtains open, your eyes squinting slightly as your surroundings returned to you. Quickly and wordlessly he began pushing you again until your body met the wall, your nipples brushing against the wallpaper. Leaning away, Tommy pulled open the curtain on the other side of where he had you pinned and spilled more moonlight into the room.

You were held firm against the wall between the two windows, Tommy’s hand strong on the back of your neck. Shifting your weight under his grip, the texture of the wallpaper scratched your flushing cheek as you waited anxiously for him to finish raking his arctic and hungry eyes over you.

Without warning the rough skin of Tommy’s finger ran over your bare pussy in a long line and you mewled, adrenaline ebbing at last as lust drove it away, rolling in in thick waves as Tommy teased you.

“Fuck,” he hissed between parted lips, trailing up and down you until you felt cool air lick against the hot wetness that began to spread in reply to his touch.

But then Tommy’s luxurious caress vanished, and before you could begin to beg for it back his hand began to rain slaps onto your ass, alternating from cheek to cheek. The gasps of lascivious pleasure that left your mouth echoed off the library walls along with the sharp cracks of his hand, a hymn being sung for the devil.

The more you tried to avoid them the faster and harder Tommy’s hand fell, the spanks short and sharp now that he stood close behind you with his voice hot in your ear, whispering to you as he dosed you with the consequences of your escape attempt.

Legs opening willingly, you submitted to his voice and his touch, not going to feign neither displeasure nor shame. It wasn’t long until you were begging, speaking between the strikes of Tommy’s hand, “Please.”

Your voice came out as mostly breath and Tommy paused to run a finger down your spine, knowing it would automatically arch your ass into the air and put the red array of his mottled handprints on display, a painting of washed-out lust in the moonlight.

“Good girl,” Tommy hummed in appreciation, ignoring your begging and squeezing the back of your neck to pull you to him. Grasping your breast and taking a nipple between his fingers, he rolled it painfully until it was hardened to his liking before doing the same with the other. “So much fun to play with, aren’t you?”

“Please fuck me, Tommy,” you tried once more, leaning your head back even more to meet his eyes, the blue in them nearly gone between the night and his hunger. He tilted his head to the side as he considered you, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, the tenderness making your eyes close. “Please.”

“Mm,” he murmured, wrapping a muscled arm around your ribs to hold you up as he slid his grip from your nape to your jaw, “I think I’ll do whatever I want to do, naughty girl. I did catch you, didn’t I?”

“No-” you groaned, writhing in his arms as your pulsing clit became achingly painful in protest “- no, Tommy please, fuck me-”

Squeezing your body in the crook of his arm he slid his hand over your mouth, his palm locking over your lips.

“There we go, that’s much better,” he mocked gently, pressing his smirking lips to your cheekbone, squeezing your mouth and stifling your begging.

Tommy sucked lovebites into your neck while he rubbed one hip bone and then the other, his thumb rolling over them painfully. Your moans were nothing against his hand, sighs muted as Tommy imprinted marks of possession onto your skin.

Pushing your front against the wall once more, Tommy steadily worked his hand lower, playing with the inside of your thighs. The hand over your mouth held your head still as Tommy yanked your hips backwards. He spread you wide, being sure to place his feet between yours so your legs couldn’t shut.

Tommy pressed his fingers to your pussy, cooing to you while you whimpered and writhed in his grip, your hips rolling in effort to move his touch where you wanted it. But his path was set and even, and he easily avoided your clit, teasing you until your muscles sagged in agony.

“Don’t you like being teased like the wicked little thing that you are?” Tommy asked with exaggerated confusion, softly drawing circles around your entrance.

Two fingers pushed into you slowly when you didn’t answer, and Tommy slid in and out of your wetness, the feeling of it enough to make your legs shake. But then Tommy stopped - much to your protest - tantalizingly dragging his soaked fingers up your stomach to the hollow of your throat. Releasing your mouth, he shushed you gently and slipped his fingers between your lips, murmuring to you as you tasted yourself.

Every inch of you burned, your body wanting nothing more than for Tommy to take you. Sucking on his fingers, you looked up to meet his darkened eyes and blinked at him slowly, watching his breath grow ragged with craving as lust ate away at him, consuming.

Pressing your ass against his hips you arched up on your toes so you could grind your clit against the marble ridge of his cock, the cloth of his pants a hot friction that made you moan around his fingers.

“Good girl,” Tommy breathed, pressing his open mouth to your cheek as he let you move against him.

“Thomas-“ you moaned around his fingers, the firmness of his cock against your clit pushing you to the edge. The lust in your blood that had been simmering during Tommy’s hunt for you began to boil over. “Tommy, can I cum?”

Tommy let out a smirk-shaped breath, gripping your hips to halt their churning, “No, no you may not.”

With a groan of frustration you tore your mouth from his fingers and tried to twist your hips away from him, your denied orgasm slamming against your skin, looking for a way out.

“Ah, ah, ah - that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere,” Tommy murmured in your ear, pinning his body against yours, the heat between the two of you sheening your skin with dewdrops of sweat. You moaned and curled your fingers into the wallpaper, no doubt leaving claw marks as Tommy once more slid his hand over your mouth.

Tommy made space between you for his hand, and the telling clink of his belt’s undoing soon followed. Only moments passed before you felt the silky head of his cock rub hotly over the sensitive handprints on your ass.

Reaching back, you found him and stroked Tommy’s length with both hands, your teeth baring with a smile into his palm when you heard him inhale sharply. Bringing him to your pussy, you dipped the head of Tommy’s cock between your folds and rubbed him up and down your wetness, your chest cracking with a whine as you pressed him against your clit.

Tommy finally snapped with a growl, catching your wrists and pinning them to the small of your back. In one swift movement he pulled you to his chest by your throat and slid his cock inside you as deeply as he could.

Stars speckled your vision and you could barely make a sound, Tommy’s cock stretching you wide. He spit out a curse, bending you forward so he could watch himself slide in and out of you, your breath catching in your chest when he pushed into you until his hips met your ass.

Tommy pressed your face to the wall, his hand wide over your head to hold you still and his thumb slipping into your mouth. You whined with impatience and ground your hips on Tommy’s cock, the wall growing hot under your cheek as you began to flush. Swearing again, Tommy dug his other hand into the curve of your hip and began the rough thrusts you’d been so desiring; filling you over and over, Tommy fucked you until your moaning of his name brought a hedonistic smirk to his face.

With your eyes rolling into your head, each stroke of Tommy’s size riled the orgasm that had been denied and your body began to tighten in resistance. Tommy groaned deeply as your pussy clenched around him, the sound of his hips slamming into your wetness filling your ears, Tommy said your name with each thrust, his thumb pulling at your bottom lip.

But then without warning or reason Tommy pulled out of you, removing his shoes from between your wide stance. Drawing you to him and turning you around in one smooth motion, he cradled your head and drove his tongue over yours, kissing you heatedly and playing with your hair, a hand on your breast still holding your body to the wall.

Tommy breathed into your mouth, undoing the buttons of his vest, shirt, pants. Ducking to your neck, long locks of his dark hair tickled your skin while he kept you distracted and dripping with gentle grazes of his lips.  It left you breathless and you clutched at Tommy desperately, squeezing the bare muscles of his arms after he threw his shirt to the floor, the veins in his forearms smooth and defined.

“Get on your knees,” he whispered, running his tongue up the line of hickeys he’d left on your neck.

Tommy’s command and the craving in his voice made your mouth water, and you kissed him deeply in response. Keeping your eyes on his, you obediently slid down the wall, landing gently on the rug. Tommy shoved his foot between your knees and spread them apart until they were open wide, your pussy exposed for him.

“Open your mouth.”

A crescent open-mouthed smile of willingness spread on your face, your eyes not leaving Tommy’s as he straightened and placed the head of his cock on your tongue, moving it back and forth slowly before pushing forward between your lips.

With a hand in your hair Tommy slid to the back of your throat, groaning as you gagged around him. He held your head still and waited for your reflexes to calm themselves, murmuring to you.

When they did he began to move again, stroking into your mouth. He never left you completely, the hard strokes of his size coming evenly and rhythmically. You moaned in pleasure around his cock and Tommy hissed, the vibration from your throat making his brows furrow with weakness as he gazed down at you.

“Do you taste good, naughty girl?” Tommy rasped, the sound making your eyes roll.

You couldn’t help but assent with a moan, your throat opening for him. Tommy trailed a single finger down your jaw, his eyes half-lidded, your bobbing head making him grow impossibly harder in your mouth.

Hands no longer pinned, you trailed them along the inside of your thighs, teasing yourself as Tommy claimed your mouth. The taste of your own desire on your tongue along with Tommy’s grunts of pleasure had you dripping, your clit begging to be touched.

No scolding came from Tommy as you began to play with your clit, the feeling of it arching your back and willing you to take more of his cock down your throat. He watched hungrily, his brows furrowing further as he gripped your face harder. Tears rolled from your eyes as he pushed his cock deeper into your throat, the feeling of it enough to make you cum all by itself.

But then he suddenly pulled out after one last thick thrust, using his grip on your head to push you to the floor. Oxygen flowed into your lungs in heaves, Tommy’s muscles like carved marble in the moonlight as he moved to lower himself onto you.

You reached for him, desperate for his touch. The tears that had rolled from Tommy’s ravaging cooled on your cheeks, and he kissed them off before moving down your neck, his hands reaching down to spread your legs.

“Such a good girl for me,” Tommy murmured, his lips dragging down your stomach until they pressed to the curve of your inner thigh.

Without another word he pressed his lips to your clit, his tongue flicking out to make your back arch. His hands clawed at you, squeezing your breasts and anywhere else he could reach. Tommy ran his nails up and down your sides as he feasted between your legs, inhaling deeply and watching you as he drove his tongue into your core until you cried out, a wanton mess.

Ravenously he licked you, soon choosing to trace circles on your clit with the tip of his tongue. Through this you suffered, your voice cracking Tommy’s name and your body squirming in need. Tommy teased you viciously, pulling away every time you came close to tumbling over the edge of release, a smile spreading on his face when he watched you writhe in response.

You could barely breathe, and the moments you could were spent begging to cum. The carpet was soft against the skin of your back as you ground into it, your nails digging in as you tried to hold onto the earth. Tommy was dangerously attentive, nipping at all the spots he knew would rile you when he was giving your clit a rest from the relentless assault of his tongue. But your taste was driving Tommy mad, you knew, his snarls feral and his grip rough as he held your roiling hips to the floor, leaving teeth marks on the inside of your thighs.

Leaning up so he could watch himself he thrust a single finger into you, shushing you when your cries of desire shook your chest. Control left you and your breathing turned to panting, fire burning under your skin. You clutched for Tommy’s hair, trying to pull his mouth back onto your pussy.

“Tommy,” you whimpered in vain, having more to beg for but managing nothing else as he curled his finger within you and rocked it into the spot that made your vision blur.

“Mm,” he hummed against you, adding another finger into you before running his tongue over your clit a single, tantalizing time, “I think it might be time to make you cum, would you agree?”

“Yes,” you whispered, running your fingertips across the sharp cheekbones of his close-shaven face. “Please, Tommy.”

After pressing a wet kiss to your hipbone he crawled up to you, all muscles and devil as he bent one of your legs and pressed his cock into you, inhaling the moan you breathed into his mouth and groaning your name as he filled you.

In a swift movement Tommy lifted you easily from the floor, his cock not moving an inch as he picked you up, power and heat flowing between you both. You finally felt the safety you’d been missing when Tommy had been hunting you in the dark, his grip strong around you and his lips soft on yours as Tommy pressed you against the wall, your ankles locking behind his back.

The upwards strokes of his size came strong and fast, both of you breathing into each other’s mouths. Tommy took your wrists and held them above your head, squeezing your cheeks and murmuring filth in your ear as he fucked your orgasm closer. The knots that had tied themselves tight inside of you began to unwind, Tommy’s low words and his hand on your face unraveling you.

Knowing you were close Tommy kissed you deeply and released your wrists, pressing his forehead to yours and whispering your name, “Cum for me, love. Cum for me.”

Nerve endings set alight with flame, your entire body clenched and released again and again. Your orgasm ran up your spine and out through your mouth in loud moans and you didn’t care who heard, your cum dripping from Tommy’s cock as he continued to fuck you through the waves racking your body.

Tommy watched you with an open mouth and heavy breaths, his own undoing coming for him. Sinking his nails into your ass to leave half-moons as he came, he emptied himself into you with a groan from deep in his chest. You cradled his head to you, holding him tight and moaning with the last strong but slowing thrusts of his hips.

The two of you came down until your breathing matched, Tommy holding you tight with his head resting on your shoulder, both of your bodies slick with sweat. You refused to unlock your ankles from Tommy’s waist, holding onto him and trailing your fingers lightly across his back. No matter how long you’d run through the halls of this house, fucked in these rooms, chased each other like children, you could never tire of it. Your skins shone in the pale moonlight, sweat having beaded between your breasts, along Tommy’s collarbones.

Eventually Tommy leaned up and kissed you with hands on your face, thumbs on your cheekbones, kissing you until he carried you to a sofa where he let you drop gently. He came back with a blanket, covering you before he slid to your side. Laying your head on his chest, you hooked a leg over his body and sighed, kissing his skin.

“Will you read to me?” he murmured, already on the way to sleep.

“Of course,” you whispered, kissing his chest again before leaning past his head for the book you - and Tommy - were halfway through. You read to him until you heard his breathing even with slumber, and your eyes fought to stay open as the rhythm of him lulled you to join him.

me, waking up at 4am in a cold sweat: what if there was a serial killer who took old spinny carnival rides and made them into a human microwave and played pop goes the weasel as he baked people hire me Criminal M—

woopwoopunicornpoop  asked:

Hey there, I'm feeling down and need me some fics. Do you know any where Stiles is a pixie or fairy? Or some other magical creature with trixter traits. This blog is awesome by the way ♡

Here, have some CREATURE STILES fics!


Blackbird by skoosiepants

Stiles groans and drops his face into his hands. “I’m seventeen, I can kind of use mountain ash and I can explode houses when I’m mad enough. How am I gonna win any kind of magic fight?”

“We’ll work on it,” Deaton says, as infuriatingly calm as ever. “The important thing to remember, Stiles, is that when everything else is chaos, you’re the port in the storm.”


Laura Hale never died, and Stiles is magic.

Secret hoard by Nival_Vixen

Everyone knows that a dragon needs a hoard, and without one, the dragon will die. None of Stiles’ friends know what his hoard is, and they’re all worried that he doesn’t have one.

In the village below the dragons’ mountains, werewolves live with humans, and Derek Hale is curious to know more about the dragons. He just doesn’t expect one to fall from the sky.

Bruises and Hickies, Stitches and Scars by ElisAttack

“You’re my lawyer, Derek. What are you going to do, draft up a contract for yourself?”

Or the one where Stiles is a professional dominant, Derek is his lawyer, and their professional relationship suddenly becomes not so professional.

Also, faeries.

Keep reading


Send in one of the following quotes from HUA to get my muse’s reaction!

  • There! I took the fucking shot! She’s dead! There’s blood everywhere!
  • Okay, Christ, fine, I’ll help you. But only ‘cause you’ve got nice tits.
  • Hey, (name)! (name)! This is awesome! You should totally join in! Seriously, there’s like 40 zombies in here! Just one shot in the head and they explode! Just like House of the Dead, only like, 100 times more awesome!
  • Oh, fuck the hell yes.
  • Sweet Black-fucking-Sabbath!
  • Oh, if it isn’t the Catholic Church! And what’s this? No Little Timmy glued to your crotch? Progress!
  • You done goofed.
  • …you Protestant fuck-bucket.
  • I’m a fuckmothering vampire!
  • You are reading your master’s mind! Put my head between your booooooooobs!
  • Oh, I’m sorry, I like to dirty talk when someone’s sucking my dick.
  • It’s just that I’m so agitated, because this blond little shit just strolled into my room, destroyed my 70-inch plasma TV, and is trying to impress me like I’m his alcoholic father.
  • Ah, fuck it. Skull-fuckin’ for everybody!
  • I would do fucking anything right now to get out of this.
  • Oh fuck, that’s an anti-tank rifle. OH FUCK, THAT’S AN ANTI-TANK RIFLE!
  • What are you gonna do? Call that one guy who can stop me? What was his name…Michael McDoesn'tExist?
  • Get that bitch a cannon! Bitches love cannons.
  • What’s wrong, demigod? Just grow back your legs! Summon up your demons! Hit me! Fight me! Give me a hug!
  • You know, they say TV makes you violent. But I’d say not having my TV is making me pretty fucking violent!
  • Shut up and take my money!
  • Nazis~!
  • Master! My breasts keep getting bigger!
  • Jesus wants a hug!
  • Right this way, Group B! That’s right, right in front of everybody else; you’re eighty, you’re used to it! We’re going to look at art and paintings, which I believe are also art! I dunno! I’m Cockney, I’m uncultured!
  • That’s right. I’m going to FUCK the fear turkey!
  • HEY DANDY DICK! You missed.
  • The fuck is this? The fuck is that?! The fuck are THOSE?!
  • You cheeky dick-waffle!
  • Zis is my favorite kind of ship — laden with blood und seamen.
  • Chuh-chuh-chuh-CHECK YOUR PRIVILEGE!
  • Ah. The return of the “why” boner. With a vengeance.
  • By Jove, you fuckin’ header of a woman! You’re surrounded by fifty Nazi vampires, armed literally to the teeth, and what do you do?! You get out of your fuckin’ car, pull out your sword, cut off one of their heads, and yell “Come at me, you Kraut shits!” NO WONDER (name) wants to plow that virgin soil! I’M THINKING ABOUT GROWIN’ SOME FLOWERS MYSELF!
  • (thing) for days.
  • We were prepared for a full-on tactical assault. Instead, we got a volley of swastika-covered dipshits running dick-first into enemy territory.
  • Hey, if we’re killing Nazis, we’ll worship a side of bacon!

There’s something sexy about a dead-serious man willing to do anything to get the job done. The Batmans and Liam Neesons of the world, men who ruthlessly cut through criminal organizations while brooding about the atrocities they’ve been forced to commit. Even the supposedly goody-two-shoes Superman now scowls as he struts out of exploded court houses filled with charred corpses and jars of pee. Is any of this sexiness getting you hot and bothered yet? Too bothered?

They are almost never seen eating, but always drink. If they’re in bed, they’re having nightmares about those they’ve lost (or, you know, having sex). They are emotionally cold and distant when they’re not being glib. This is all done in the name of emotional complexity, but can we still call it that when every character is the same?

For example, why does Hollywood refuse to accept Superman as simply a morally sound hero who genuinely wants to help people? Struggling to protect those weaker than him is a perfectly legitimate problem. Did they think we couldn’t relate to him unless he cried in an ice cave like he’s in an Evanescence music video? Did they think he’d look like a “pussy” if he didn’t destroy an entire city and snap Zod’s neck in front of two children?

6 Backward Ideas Hollywood Still Has About Men

at the end of “kingsman: the secret service”, eggsy asks his mom to come live with him in the new house he has. (harry’s old house).

so. “kingsman: the golden circle” should’ve been about his family tbh. eggsy being worried about the safety of his mother and little sister. look, i like what a sweet boyfriend eggsy is, but 50% of the time it was eggsy being all “my girlfriend! my girlfriend! my girlfriend!” during the movie and, no mention of his mother or his sister?

the mother he loves, sworn to look after, and was straight up ready to beat down his step-dad when he found out he hit her?

i mean, we do see her in the end of the film. but it was just her. no baby sister. (i really think they forgot eggsy has a little sister.)

so, a more nicer scenario would be eggsy’s mother and sister living with him. eggsy’s mom is packing up for a trip to visit her sister. eggsy obviously can’t come along but he wishes his mother and sister a safe trip. daisy insists on taking j.b. with them. eggsy lets her, telling j.b. to be on his best behavior. (this way no one fucking dies when that house explodes)

transiting moon in the houses

first house - when the moon is transitting your first house, you may find yourself feeling rather sensitive, both physically and emotionally. maybe this is the day you spontaneously cut your hair, or wear something different - because it feels right. take care of your skin, it’s a little thin now. this is a time for new starts and little changes. emotionally, you’re reactive and sensitive right now, make sure you express your feelings healthily, without exploding or imploding. 

second house - you may find yourself craving comfort, safety, security during this transit. you can be impulsive with your money, spending here and there on whatever catches your eye, you can wish for simplicity and calm. second house transits draw attention to our possessions, value and sense of worth. all of these things can either be a focus of attention and emotion, or a fluctuating force in our lives during this transit. make sure to take time to relax and indulge in your senses now. 

third house - right now it’s important that you communicate your feelings; if you’re a quieter type or prefer to keep to yourself, try to write down how you feel, because this really isn’t a good time to bottle up your feelings. you can feel quite busy during this transit, and like you have a million things to do a minute, so take care not to let yourself get swept up in the current of life. you can be feeling quite nostalgic now, and perhaps you want to meet some new people to ignite your sense of curiosity and make some new connections. 

fourth house - when the moon transits the fourth house, we go inwards. our energies are directed towards our home and our family, whether they’re family by blood or bond. you may be feeling quite fragile during this transit, as it illuminates our comfort levels within our current environment; we are now sensitive to our surroundings, our support system, and our sense of safety. it’s important to rest your mind and body, nurture the soul, and soothe yourself during fourth house transits, because they are emotional and delicate times for us all. 

fifth house - this is a time for fun, for romance, for creativity, and for connecting with the inner child again. the moon comes out of its shell now, and often, you do with it! take some time to show those you care about how much they mean to you, listen to music that makes you feel alive, enjoy wonderful food, write in your journal and make it pretty. it’s important to express how you feel now, because feelings are strong things after all. more than anything, this is the perfect opportunity for you to enjoy yourself and display your best features to the world, whatever they may be. 

sixth house - when the moon is transiting the sixth house, we may find ourselves wanting to perfect the creations we brought to life during the previous transit. we crave peace, order and cleanliness in our lives, and we can become quite sensitive to our work or school environment, and our health. even the daily routine is illuminated now, and can go under the microscope as we evaluate our lives and try to restructure them to run more smoothly. you may feel the need to knuckle down and get things done during this transit, but don’t forget about yourself, as you are easily stressed now. it’s better to simplify and get a little done than rush around doing everything at once. 

seventh house - now, you are focused on others, on love, on reflection. this is a delicate transit, and your mood can fluctuate greatly depending on who you’re with, and how you feel about your relationship with them. your sensitivities to your loved ones are heightened, you can analyse (and agonise) over relationships, and this is often a time when it’s important to come to terms with and confront problems you’re having with your relationships. take care to spend some quality time with your loved ones, and with yourself, and be aware that your reflections, though important, may not always be true, before you despair. 

eighth house - eighth house transits are never easy, because they tend to bring things up that need addressing, but these things are often painful to feel. you can feel quite vulnerable now, and perhaps you try and hide this. but it’s important to find strength in softness, so that you can be honest with yourself and others. you crave emotional intimacy, wanting your relationships to deepen, to open up. you may want to reflect on your life, and look for your own meaning in the grand tapestry. you may be feeling quite quiet now, preferring to feel your way through this transit without being too bubbly. 

ninth house - now is the time to expand your horizons! take little trips, especially into the realm of fantasy through an enchanting book or a game. explore the mind and heart, make new connections, do something spontaneous! you need to free yourself from emotional chains right now, so try something new to cure any boredom you may feel. your beliefs and morals can come under light now, so perhaps try keeping a journal of your thoughts and feelings, to look back on when you feel unsure of your faith or reasonings. generally, this is a happy placement for the moon, but is prone to restlessness. 

tenth house - when the moon transits the tenth house, you can feel very sensitive about your appearance, how you appear to others, and your destination in life. this is a time to look seriously at yourself and how you feel about yourself as a person. you may feel quite unsure about your place in the world, and you crave recognition and appreciation for who you are and what you do. your relationships with authority figures in your life and the public come under light, and it’s important that you don’t overwork yourself or stress yourself out too much. look at how others see you, but don’t obsess over it. 

eleventh house - this is a time when you need to spread out and interact; you wish to be elevated, and you crave close connections with your friends, with like-minded people. you can feel lonely and misunderstood now, but don’t fret too much, you’ll find your crowd. you can feel quite sensitive to the moods of those around you, and to the misery of the world, so be careful not to suffer more than you must. with so much focus on those around you, you should try to take some time finding out about yourself! what makes you different to others, what makes you, wonderfully, you. 

twelfth house - twelfth house transits can be difficult, as they can sometimes bring a sense of loneliness and confusion, and make you feel extremely sensitive and malleable. however, it’s a wonderful time to retreat into your inner world, find peace and stabilise yourself a little. meditation, dream interpretation, art, reading, being in nature - become comfortable with your soul and you’ll find it may be more comfortable with you. evaluate your deepest wishes, your dreams and your sensitivities. they’re meaningful things, but they take time and care to understand.