fancy-sky

I like drinking coffee alone and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone and walking home alone. It gives me time to think and set my mind free. I like eating alone and listening to music alone. But when i see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their bestfriend, I realize that even though i like being alone, i don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who wont run away.
—  Hannah Nelson
what the sun + moon combinations remind me of

FIRE SIGNS

fire sun, fire moon: the colour red, sneaking out at night, a red glow, fire, running outside, empty streets in the middle of nowhere, hot summer days, driving around the city, sunlight, a golden yellow colour, bravery and boldness

fire sun, earth moon: a brown-red colour, empty roads, driving around in cars, writing in journals, the smell of a bonfire, a deep purple, cosy fire, wooden flooring, open windows, summer days in the morning, leaves falling off of trees during autumn

fire sun, air moon: the colour pink, the petals that bloom on the first few days of spring, innocence, a warm fire, running through a field, strawberries, peaches, petals flying through the wind, bubblegum, a candle, the movement of fire

fire sun, water moon: sneaking into someone’s window at 3AM to go on an adventure, passion, a crimson red, rebellion, sitting outside at night and counting stars, strong feelings, sudden feelings, leather jackets, combat boots

EARTH SIGNS

earth sun, fire moon: an orange-red colour, waking up early in the morning and feeling good, early morning walks during autumn, a warm cup of tea on a cold day, a soft bonfire, candles, cosy sweaters, warm days

earth sun, earth moon: the colour green, fresh plants, open windows in wooden homes, the colour brown, forests, dark forests, trees with dark green leaves, expensive but simple looking jewellery, caramel, waking up late, house plants

earth sun, air moon: staying inside on a rainy day, the colour caramel, the colour white, white pearls, light but cosy sweaters, wide and clear desks, flowing white dresses, reading books, grabbing coffee at a coffee place

earth sun, water moon: staying up until late at night to read or watch a tv show, a fresh green colour, simple but chic clothing, small green cactuses, getting cosy under warm sheets on a cold day, tidy bedrooms, white beds

AIR SIGNS

air sun, fire moon: quick movements, a peach colour, light pink, old records, cherries and red fruits, glow-sticks, trainers, writing, small towns, pink flowers that have newly bloomed, headphones, running on the streets, laughing and feeling free

air sun, earth moon: a light brown colour, a caramel colour, baking, getting up early in the morning, living in a modern city, calm and white cloudy days, latte art, expensive watches, writing things down, nice handwriting, white walls

air sun, air moon: the colour blue, light blue, swift movements, fresh air, white angle wings, birds flying across the sky, painting on a clear canvas, fancy pens, a blue sky with a few, fluffy white clouds, white wooden flooring, small windows in white attics looking at the sea

air sun, water moon: a pale, baby blue colour, the stars coming out at night, lying on the rooftop at 3AM, painting a galaxy of many stars, wondering things about the world, a dark, navy blue, paintbrushes, white desks, old castles, cloudy days

WATER SIGNS

water sun, fire moon: a strong burning fire, a bright red colour, sneaking out the window at 3AM to go who knows where, passionate kisses, strong and sudden emotions, long letters, old diaries and journals, laughter and freedom, a dark blue-black colour

water sun, earth moon: getting up late during weekends, having a calm day with your friends, walking through an old town or city you’ve been to before, feeling sentimental, a dark green colour, a beige colour, newly laid sheets, a lake in the middle of a forest

water sun, air moon: the feeling of inspiration, sudden ideas, beautiful words, listening to stories that you love, laughing with your closest friends, the colour white, talking about positive emotions with people, white walls, a very pale pink colour

water sun, water moon: sitting by the seaside, a clear blue sky that is still very calm, pastel colours, white walls with white wooden floors, light blue curtains that flow in the wind, hugging someone you care about, writing down your feelings, late night talks, happy dreams

I like drinking coffee alone, and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone, and walking home alone. I like eating alone, and listening to music alone. It gives me time to think, and set my mind free.
But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won’t run away.
—  3am thoughts
you must come back home ❖ yixing

anon requested: Hey you guys!!! Hope your having an amazing day! Keep up the awesome work!!💕 I wanted to request a Yixing smut. He comes home after a bussiness trip (cuz he is a ceo :’) ) and you greet him with nothing just a silk robe. And then yixing fucks against everybsurface of the house. And he would be so animalistic and raw. You would be screaming for pleasure. Good thing taht you guys have your own house ;) thank you babes💖 - 🐙🐙🐙 anon


(gif not mine, cr to the owner)

4390 words | smut, sugar daddy, daddy kink, ceo! au pretty raw tbh, dirty talk | velvet

✎ After a long trip away from home, from you and your body, finally Yixing comes back home and you can remember him how good it feels being in your presence.


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“I like drinking coffee alone and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone and walking home alone. It gives me time to think and set my mind free. I like eating alone and listening to music alone. But when i see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though i like being alone, i don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won’t run away.”


— Hannah Nelson

Imagine Loki showing up to your house in the middle of the night injured. He’s clutching at his side, barely standing, hair hanging in curtains as rain falls in sheets around him. Looking up, he smiles, his face paler than normal from blood loss as lightning crackles in the night sky.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Loki murmurs before collapsing in the doorway.

Tender Spots

@idontcarewhatmyusernameis9 replied to your post “If anyone has any matt/jessica (jessmatt? Messica!) prompts they want…” : After he saved her from that guy in ep 5 he teaches her how to fight, because it’s not all about powers

Thanks for the prompt! it’s not exactly what you asked for and the timeline I set it in is a little hazy, but I hope you like it.

She doesn’t like the way that Trish looks at her when there are bruises on her face. The scrapes along her cheekbone are still fresh, barely scabbed over since her last scuffle with the ethereally beautiful zombie woman. And there’s that look coming from Trish, just to make things a little more unbearable. It’s soft and concerned and there’s a little pain beneath the surface.

“Don’t give me that look.”

Trish feigns innocence, eyebrows shooting up. “What look? There’s no look.”

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I like drinking coffee alone, and reading alone. I sitting alone, and do other thing alone. I like eating alone, and listening to music alone. It gives me time to think, and set my mind free.
But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won’t run away.

Strive Pt. 15

{PART 1} {PART 2} {PART 3} {PART 4} {PART 5} {PART 6} {PART 7} {PART 8} {PART 9} {PART 10} {PART 11} {PART 12} {PART 13} {PART 14}

Pair: Tomarry

Rating: M-E(depends)

Tags: Mild Language, Homosexuality, Sexism, Obsessed Tom, Time-Travel/Dimension-Travel, Teacher/Student, Eventual Romance, Teacher-Harry, Grey!Harry, MoD(sort of), Death!being,


Tom was very intent upon having his Patronus mastered as soon as possible. Especially since that very weekend would have the students in the first Dueling Club meeting for the seventh years, and Tom wanted so badly to be ready. He needed to prove his superiority above the other students in his year and in order to gain Professor Potter’s higher regard, this was the only method he currently had.

This or becoming an Animagi. Tom had everything he needed for that particular undertaking, it was just having the time that held him up. Keeping a Mandrake leaf in his mouth for an entire month was difficult enough. But then getting the full moon to cooperate for the potion that the leaf would be added to, was also hell. The weather could not truly be controlled, only held at bay for a period of time.

Basically, the Patronus was easier at present, and since he had actually managed one already, it should be easy from there on out. He just needed to follow Potter’s advice, which was to use thoughts instead of memories, because summoning a happy thought as opposed to a happy memory, was far simpler for those who didn’t have good memories to begin with. And Tom had many thoughts that made him happy, as opposed to fabricating a happy memory.

So far, thoughts of Professor Potter managed to fuel his Patronus every time he cast it. Tom’s deep appreciation for the man being decent to him out of genuine kindness and no other reason, made him feel warm inside. And he actually felt like there was someone in existence who actually liked him as a person and had no other nefarious reason to treat him well. Not like other people.

It was very Hufflepuff in nature, to be touched by someone’s kindness and to hold onto that, but Tom would bring that information to his nonexistent grave. No one would ever know how oddly soft he was becoming toward one person. One wizard who managed to be different in many frustrating but amazing ways. A man worthy of respect.

Before the beginning of the term, he would have stated that such relationships would be a weakness. But Tom took mental note of everything happening recently. He managed to ingratiate himself into the Malfoy family’s favour, thanks to Potter’s assistance. He learned a difficult piece of magic because of Potter’s instruction and advice. He now had at his fingertips, the history of Hogwarts as told by Salazar Slytheirn himself, because Potter allowed him to borrow a book. And soon Potter would be letting him look into another book so he may learn more about the Gaunts.

So when he considered everything in full, Tom had all along, been shown more lenience and attention by the Defence professor. It just hadn’t been blatant like he’d grown used to over the years. Potter answered his questions instead of assuming he knew all the answers like the rest of the professors did. Potter actually treated him like a person. Potter was kind. Potter was helpful no matter what.

He didn’t single Tom out because Tom was the favourite. In fact, Tom was certain that if anyone else bothered to come to the man with questions, he would gladly answer and help them out. It was simply Tom being the only one taking the initiative to better his education and his experiences as a wizard as a whole, that had him within Potter’s scope of reference on a regular basis.

Tom had the man’s attention because he worked for it. He found himself madly grateful that his fellow seventh years were too daft to consider approaching the professor personally for assistance. It left him to have Potter’s attention and Tom preferred that immensely.

No one could ever deny that Tom was greedy. It came with being poor and an orphan. He clung to anything he perceived as his, with a viciousness. And he would work to keep himself in Professor Potter’s favour. Especially since the man’s attention was about to be broken up even more than it already was, and Tom would be in a race for the man’s approval.

Too many students were beginning to taken an interest in the attractive, young professor who was of marrying age. It would be a very… interesting competition.


When I consider the past several years and the time it took for us to
finally see this goal through, I am astonished that we even managed
to get this far. ‘Tis true, we four are of the most talented magicals on
the isles, but vision is not the only skill when reaching for any type of
accomplishment. Having a castle built for us was the most trying part
of the entire process. The rest dealt mostly in mine and Helga’s talent
in persuasion for our would-be pupils.

Once we had a building that would serve as the primary base of our
desired institution, Rowena and Godric then began the torturous and
tedious process of warding the grounds. As was their contribution to
the structure themselves. Helga and I handled the stones, each at a
time, saturating them in our magic before they were stacked on top
of one another when forming the actual building.

Creating the ward stone for the area within the mountains had been
more work than any of us anticipated. The weather was never doing
as it should, and needing one person to keep everything calm so the
others could work, had slowed our progress drastically. I often found
myself swearing and bearing Rowena’s disapproval over such actions.
She has never been one to support vulgarity, but rarely do I ever fall
into such boorish habits. I feel that I am allowed some latitude on the
random occasion I give in to my baser instincts.

After three full summers of waiting for the castle to be built, we finally
had the establishment necessary to house the magical students in. Of
course with this came the immediate desire to see our future pupils
safe from any sort of danger. Once the wards had been set into place
and we were assured of the safety measures being of good quality so
nothing could pose a threat, we set our focus on the actual housing
arrangements, which had each of us choosing a section of the castle
to be our 'domain’.

I chose the dungeons. Many would consider my choices to be a cause
for alarm, but I prefer to think of it as intelligence at it’s best. Anyone
with skills in brewing would understand that the temperature down in
the dungeons remains steady, which is preferable for a place meant to
store our potions supplies. The water is my primary element of choice,
and with the lake close to me at all time, I feel tranquil. The solitude
can at times by cathartic, so it was the wisest decision for my sanity.

I am also the most adept at the Dark Artes, among our motley group.
Ironically, Dark Magick is best performed in darkness. Darkness lends
additional strength to any sort of Dark Magick one wishes to make use
of. The same is with any magic of Light origin. If performed under the
sun or in bright areas, it’ll add more power to the casting. So for me,
choosing the dungeons benefits me in every way. The other three will
probably never understand it, but they do not need to. The choice had
been made.

Rowena and Godric always fancied the sky, and each took a tower for
themselves. Helga had always been a devout lover of the soil however,
and she was perfectly happy to be on level with the ground. It had to
do with her Tasseomancy, though I could never understand it. We each
personalised our respective spaces. Mine beheld a great many shades
of green and silver, as they are the very colours personal to Slytherin’s
coat of arms.

It was after these events that we decided to add a few more (many)
protections to the institution. Magical creatures would surely send an
attacker off in fear before even daring to follow through with the plan
of assault. My choice was a Basilisk. Being a - what we all decided to
term - Parselmouth is a boon when handling any serpents. I hatched
the deadly snake specifically to protect the school. Godric managed to
acquire the dragon he had always longed for, while Rowena paid for a
Sphinx to be brought in from her home in the Southern countries. As
for Helga, she somehow earned the allegiance of a Phoenix who was
kind enough to offer a tear or two for potions now an then.

In some ways, it seemed as if our goal was infallible. And that there
would be nothing to stand in our way if we had such good fortune on
our side.

We were wrong.

The entire chapter had been accompanied by sketches from Salazar himself. Examples of particular objects added in for the reader to better envision the story being told. And it was interesting despite not being fiction. Biographies tended to be very dreadfully mundane. Also, each word that appeared like a miniature snake upon first glance, would change until it seemed as if he was reading basic English. But common English of his day and nothing like he had assumed it would be. To be blunt, he didn’t feel as if he was reading Shakespeare. He felt as if he was reading another one of Professor Slughorn’s anecdotes. Though Slytheirn’s writing was infinitely more interesting.

Perhaps it was a spell on the book itself, to keep up with modernisation?

Still, Tom sat back to consider the contents of the first chapter alone. There was a sketch of Hogwarts from a distance, probably across the lake. Salazar included a sketch of the Hogwarts ward stone, though he didn’t mention where it resided.

He’d also just learned that performing Dark Magic at night or in darkness would empower his spells. He had never considered that to be a possibility, but it was actually very interesting once he considered it in full. And he also hoped that it was incredibly bright when he went to demonstrate his Patronus for Professor Potter.

Speaking of the young and attractive man, Tom had made note of how correct he’d been. The Founders had each placed a creature in the castle for the protection of the students. And it meant that the dramatic tales about how Slytherin placed a monster in the school in order to kill unworthy students… were false. The Basilisk wasn’t mean to harm anyone but attackers and those who tried to hurt the students.

It would explain just why the creature had been so downtrodden after accidentally killing Myrtle and how she refused to leave the chamber after that.

But this put many things into perspective. One of the more well-known legends about the Chamber of Secrets was actually false. So what other information, that people he been using as fact over the years, was also incorrect? And who was the one to drastically change the truth so it was mutated into the worst possible version of the story? And finally, if that ended up being a lie, then what else was wrong?

Did Tom even know his great ancestor as well as he thought he did? If the Basilisk wasn’t meant to drive the unworthy from the scho- or perhaps the 'unworthy’ weren’t Muggleborns as legend suggested. Perhaps the 'unworthy’ in Salazar’s mind were those who wished to see Hogwarts torn down. Or to see magic dead and gone?

Reading further would be his only way of finding out. And he wasn’t certain if he was ready for whatever else would be tossed at him. Had he, like many other Slytherins, allowed centuries of liars to shape the way he viewed his own House Founder? Tom’s ancestor? Were they really acting as Salazar would approve of, or was it all a lie?


A/N: So now Tom is faced with the reality that he might not actually know anything about Slytherin and that bias has twisted the image of his ancestor to a ridiculous level.

Next chapter is Harry’s POV.

I like drinking coffee alone and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone and walking home alone. It gives me time to think and set my mind free. I like eating alone and listening to music alone. But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her love, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad I just need someone who won’t run away.
—  Anonymous
Promoting this fucker here

   – Do you like puns? Do you like birds? Butterflies? People who watch way too many mystery shows? Shiny Rapunzel-length hair? Memers? Shy nerds? Out-of-control hellions? Cynical momfriends? Tiny cinnamon rolls? Fluff? Crack? Angst? Terrible mistakes? I really do hope you like terrible mistakes because that’s the entire definition of this character’s existence, I still don’t know why I picked him up as a muse yes I do.

   – Please LIKE or REBLOG if you’re up for interacting with rakugo storyteller UENDO TONEIDO from the Ace Attorney series? (Portrayed by Ditto.)

   – Knowledge of the franchise not required. At best you just need to know how to duck away from paper fans being thrown at your face.

your eyes looked like coming home

adrien and marinette, ten years later 

(or the high school reunion au that literally no one else wanted but me bc i am a whiny child

AO3


He can’t stop staring at her.

Which is a problem, because every time he so much as catches a glimpse of the navy blue skirt of her dress, Nino’s words play themselves over in his head, taunting him about his past ten years of obliviousness.

Look, he and Marinette started on the wrong foot, okay? How was he supposed to know that she didn’t actually dislike him, but had a crush on him?

He wasn’t, period.

But the gir- the woman who’s wildly gesticulating as she talks about something with Mlle. Bustier isn’t the Marinette that smiles bashfully at him in his memories; there’s something about her, about the way she holds herself, that’s changed. Eyeing her less subtly, Adrien finds that the room seems somehow smaller around her, like Marinette is too much to contain anymore.

The thought stretches his lips in a dopey grin, and even though it’s been seven years since the last time he saw Plagg, the lingering bad luck (or perhaps his own distraction) causes him to spill a little of his drink on his -thankfully black- shirt. It’s then that he manages to tear his gaze away from his old classmate to embarrassedly go find a napkin.


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First Stop: The Motor City

@manyfacesrpg

To say Jovan had an emotional first week was a weak position. Shortly after finding out angels and demons were actually real he fell hard for a vampire that literally killed a cop for him. It was debatable whether it was out of jealousy or safety considering the cop had identified Jovan as he streaked around naked just to test Benji out only to find out he was not all talk. He walked the walk. He put his home for sale and set out on the road with Jovan’s gypsy soul. Jovan met a demon ex lover of Benji’s too that felt so threatening he nearly ran away. He met a werewolf ex lover of Benji’s too. That was too confusing and frustrating and also funny for words. Jovan still couldn’t describe all that if he tried. But, he might in song. That was his way. He’d had an intended forever professed to him that moved him beyond words too. Benji played guitar and did not even once try to pressure him into going to a doctor. His personal Tin Man was made his own heart feel bigger and beat stronger making him feel more alive than ever. 

Still, he was cruising down the road under a fancy diamond sky twinkling just for them and he was feeling fine. First stop: The Motor City. Detroit, Michigan. 

Jovan was on a high all around, mentally, emotionally, physically. He had the music blaring, laughing, joking, pigging out on road snackage and light beer, had given road head three times, and was still full of energy by the time he saw the Detroit skyline ahead. He was still stoked as he grabbed onto Benji’s shoulder and shook it. “Look! Look! There it is! The Motor fucking City. Home sweet dirty ass home!” That vampire would never want for day again for Jovan’s smile would rival the sun beaming across the landscape.    

He was like a jack rabbit the moment the car was put in park under the convenient store lights. The nightlife was shady as ever in the area Jovan took them to and he was all the buzz the second his feet his the street. If his excitement didn’t prove he was home, his amped up mingling with every passerby would. Old faces, new faces, familiar smiles, smirks, shifty eyes, and struggles were all still there. He clapped low fives, fisted his chest and kissed his fingers and pointed at people he used to know. The shady types gave a nod. One would shout, “The Little Italian Stallion’s back in the hood!” Jovan would call back, “Fuck yeah he is. Spread the word.” Then turn right to other people and flip them off.       

He’d point to someone, “Kathy still in school?” That someone would answer “Yep, but she’s failing, thinkin’ ‘o quittin’.” Jovan would holler back, “She better be. Ehhhh, don’t worry I’ll stop by. One look at me and she’ll get her ass back in gear. I’ll scare her into staying.” A “Thanks Lil’ S. Do whatever you can.” would follow before Jovan’s sights moved on to others.  

He’d tottle up to Benji before getting ready to duck into the store wanting him to come with. But, it just kept going. Random people hurling hellos to Jovan in their own ways. “Is that Jovan Titus Adessi? Piece of shit bastard. What are you doing back here? I told you I never wanted to see your face round here again.” Jovan would call back, “Just to bother your sorry ass. Go back in the crack house where you belong.” Two fuck you’s back-to-back would trail out with some laughter and added, “Meet you there.” And Jovan only laughed at it. It was apparently normal banter.  

Jovan was only a gas station store and already having the time of his life. “Hey can we get some Cool Ranch and caramels? I need more munchies.” He was looking to his Tin Man Sugar Daddy to help him out.  

anonymous asked:

Would you ever write a fic about Bill being dormant in Stan's mind and giving him nightmares or something? I love the idea and I think you would do an amazing job :)

Flattery will get you everywhere, anon. Then again, who are we kidding, I was looking for an excuse to write this. Sorry it took a bit, but here we are! 


Echoes

Even after he fell asleep, the adventure was far from over.

Sailing the ocean on a ship with his brother was a dream come true, but even when he closed his eyes after a long day of kraken-punching and fish-reeling, the journey continued. At least for Stan, who had a lot of ground left to cover, memory wise. 

The map of his mindscape was different now, Stan knew. Of course, it had shifted and reshaped throughout the course of his life, as seamless and upheaving a process as the act of growing up. It changed as he changed, gained when he gained, lost when he was – and not too long ago, crumbled with his sacrifice. But the remnants had risen from the ashes, reclaimed from the void by those he loved, and so his mind had rebuilt accordingly.

Currently, it took the shape of the Stan o’ War II, and from the deck where he stood he had a view of a vast sea of black, swirling waves. He had fallen overboard a more than once, and the water had not been such a pretty sight as he drowned beneath the darkness, but there had always been a voice to tug him back towards the safety of the surface, usually his brother or the twins or Soos.

Below the deck was where the true mysteries lay, waiting behind halls upon halls of doors. Stanley Pines had been a man of secrets, who kept much hidden beneath the surface, although he was finding it easier to open up nowadays, and letting the light shine where before it had never been allowed to touch.

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