fingertip

sometimes, you forget what the moon looks like, and
sometimes, even your own name feels foreign to your tongue, and
sometimes, you wake up in tears that you didn’t know you had in you, and
sometimes, the world seems to crumble beneath your very feet, and
sometimes, it feels like you are burning and freezing all at once, and
sometimes, you understand what dark truly means, and
sometimes, you wish you could forget more than just the feeling of sunshine on your skin, or what the wind whispers in your ears, or how the rain dances off your fingertips, and
sometimes, you do not know why,
but you simply are, and
sometimes, it gets better, and
sometimes, you smile again and the world finds its color, and
sometimes, your heart hums a quiet song, and
sometimes, the pieces fall into place, and
sometimes, it is all worth it.
—  sometimes
My head throbs with memories of you & I, like when we were happy and everything was okay. My fingertips crave your skin again, like when I’d brush your forearms ever so lightly and it’d send shivers down your spine. My cheeks yearn to be caressed by your hands again, like when you’d hold my face and kiss me with such perfection. My waist longs to be wrapped in your arms again, like after we went a day without seeing each other your hand would never leave my side. My whole body aches for the chance to be close to yours again, like after a while of laying down together, our heartbeats would be in sync, or when you’d tell me how perfectly I fit into you and how you believed I was made for you.
—  my heart desires to be apart of yours again. ( 9:43 )

I shall put this up on AO3 momentarily, but here, if you all want, is the Steve/Bucky short fic in which, post-Winter-Soldier, Bucky learns how to cook. Written for a card that got sent to ninemoons42. <3

##

Bucky learns to cook.

No, Steve corrects this thought: Bucky doesn’t just learn to cook. Bucky, once able (once finally able, at last, after reasons physical and mental that tear up Steve’s heart to comprehend) to eat solid food again, makes up for years of taste-deprivation with a vengeance.

Bucky conjures up velvety risotto and crispy fried plantains and lemon-barley chicken soup and whimsical tea-cakes sprinkled with crystallized violets. Bucky likes flavor and texture and unexpected combinations, and can tell the precise temperature of any sauce with uncanny accuracy via one testing metal fingertip. Bucky always makes elaborate breakfasts, toast and eggs and waffles and ham and oatmeal, after missions: at first when it’s Steve who gets those fate-of-the-universe unavoidable calls and has to go, agonizingly, without him (which, Steve discovers later, is untrue: there is no universe in which Bucky’s ever not had his back), and later when they both come home triumphant and bruised and battered but together (which leads to Steve panicking the first time, waking to find himself alone in bed; he bolts upright and Bucky runs in brandishing a kitchen knife at whatever’s dared to awaken Steve Rogers before bacon’s on the table).

Sam says once, after finishing off a third plate of truffle-oil macaroni-and-four-cheese, “…man, you could open a restaurant, you ever get tired of following this guy around; this’s as good as my mama’s, I mean damn.”

Bucky, bringing over the rest of the pasta for super-soldier appetites, glances at Steve. Steve holds his breath, not certain why, just feeling the emotion snag under his breastbone.

Bucky grins easily, plops more mac and cheese on Steve’s plate, and says, “I could,” a calm recognition that possibilities exist, “but I kinda like following him.”

Steve breathes out, and their eyes catch, and Bucky feeds him the last bite right from the serving-spoon.

decepticonsensual replied: “Kup with exotic older equipment and Mirage/Tracks/Sunstreaker draped all over him out of curiosity?”

“I haven’t seen one of these since the Towers.” Reverent fingers ran over the cover. “Since the Towers Musuem. Does it still work?”

Keep reading

Darker Coffee

My morning is a stranger now
Darker coffee, blanker stare
An endless apprehension for the things we might never share

My morning is a stranger now
It no longer fits me right
There’s a space on the small of my back
I didn’t realize
wasn’t mine
until your fingertips unravelled me
It was yours all the time
It’s a tattoo now.
A brand.
A bruise.
This
is
what
I
have
to
lose

My morning is a stranger now
I’m searching for your sleepy eyes
Wondering if how we spend our mornings
becomes
how we spend
our lives

Ashley Wylde
May 4th, 2015

FICREC

all you need is (puppy) love 6k

the terribly fluffy story where they’re not in One Direction but they’re still madly in love and Louis is desperate to prove to Harry that they’re ready for a puppy.

like breathing was easy 8k

Harry is walking the 2014 Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, Louis Tomlinson is performing with his band, and also, coincidentally, the man whose curves Harry’s fingertips can’t seem to forget. They love each other for a night.


stars may collide 37k

Harry and Louis are co-stars in a popular television show and Harry has no idea how to deal with feelings or his overactive imagination.

piano breath 51k

It never stops raining in Manchester.

web me harder 6k

Louis Tomlinson, otherwise known as London’s masked hero Spiderman, finds himself crashing through the window of Harry Styles one night after a particularly nasty fight with a villain. Luckily Harry is a nursing student with a soft spot for caped crusaders who’s more than happy to tend to all of Louis’ wounds, no matter how many times he swings by.

On Sudden Hive Collapse Syndrome

There’s a honeybee colony in my chest, trying to sting
their way out of my steel mesh ribcage, dreaming
to pollinate the bloom of my clenched fist,
squeeze their honey from my fingertips. But they
never make it through the barbed wire graveyard
carved out by Adam’s rib. Sometimes their
dismembered pieces float back through my veins.
This isn’t what I meant when I said
I wanted wings.

hogwarts914 asked:

For the drabble, could you do the moments just after they're finished filming a video, and dan is all tired and cuddly. Just nice fluff, please!

Your trivia prize:


Dan tapped on the desk with his fingertips. There was no discernible beat coming from his movements but it didn’t matter. The two of them, Dan and Phil, had just finished filming what had to be their fourth video of the week,  Between them they had several YouTube channels, a radio show, and loads of things to do. It got tiring after awhile. Dan yawned a big yawn before shuffling into the bedroom to find Phil. 

“Are we done for tonight?” he asked, yawning yet again. Phil turned and smiled. 

“I don’t think you’ll make through another video.”

Dan crashed on the bed in agreement to Phil’s point. Phil went back out into the hall as Dan undressed, leaving a pile of clothes on the floor. The lights in the passage dimmed until they were out completely and Phil found his way back into the room. 

Remaining in their boxers, the two men crawled beneath the duvet and snuggled close together, enjoying each other’s body heat and proximity. 

Dan laid his arm across Phil’s torso and laid his head on the crook of Phil’s neck and shoulder. 

“How are you?” Phil whispered, loving the feel of his boyfriend on top of him. 

“Tired,” Dan replied sleepily. “So shut up.”

Phil smiled and rolled his eyes. “I love you too.”

Vision’s lips are soft. They have give. They feel warm, though they part without breath, and a thrill runs through Wanda. Vision tastes like hot possibility. He tastes like curiosity. He tastes like a spark. And Wanda is used to kissing superheroes, but kissing Vision is something new.

“You are remarkable,” Vision tells her, and Wanda’s eyes crinkle when she smiles. She traces her fingertips down his finely carved cheekbones, and a trail of red sparks trickle in their wake. She looks into his eyes, unknowably brilliant, startlingly kind, and feels air catch in her throat.

“So are you.”

When their lips meet again there’s the new urgency that comes with surety. Wanda crushes herself against Vision, and his chest feels harder than any man’s. She winds her arms around his neck and her palm loosely clasps the nape. It’s smooth and cool where Wanda is used to short tufting strands.  It’s alien, a reminder that Vision is something else. That Vision is something more. He arches against her, and Wanda can feel him, hard and hot between his legs. And physically, inexplicably, he wants her, despite his anomalous existence and form. His mouth moves against hers and his body hums with excitement, and Wanda feels herself shuddering, yearning to consume.

Wanda wants to devour Vision, to slake this burning thirst. Wanda wants to eat the world, and Vision’s kiss is the first morsel, the sweetest bite.  

Brink of Change

That little burst of excitement
as one road ends
and another begins
finds me more playful
and impulsive than I expected

Strings still pulling on my fingertips–
on my body, in different directions
I “pray” I’ll know when to let go,
and hold onto the right ones
in good timing

satansdare asked:

32 blaine

Name: Picnic Confessions
Pairing: Blaine Gibson x Reader
Word Count: 489
A/N: Of course I had to post a Blaine fic  on May 4!

It didn’t take much for Blaine to realize that he was absolutely, positively, without a doubt head over heels in love with you. There was something in the way that you smiled that made his heart pound a stacatto beat against the inside of his chest. The brush of your fingertips against his skin never failed to send shivers down his spine. Everything about you was intoxicating, enrapturing.

Keep reading

MAKES ONE CAKE/SERVES 12

Twin Peaks Cherry Pie

Short-crust pastry

  • 150 g (5 oz) cold butter
  • 240 l (8 ½ oz) plain flour
  • 30 g (1 ¼ oz) icing sugar
  • 1 organic egg
  • ½ tablespoon water

Filling

  • 1 ½ litre (2 ½ pints) fresh cherries
  • 85 g (2 1/3 oz) caster sugar
  • 1 fresh vanilla pod
  • Zest and juice from 1 lemon
  • 2 tablespoons potato flour

Brushing

  • 1 organic egg
  • 1 tablespoon milk
  • 1 tablespoon demerara sugar

Short-crust pastry

  1. Put the butter, flour and icing sugar in a bowl and mix with your fingertips to make breadcrumbs.
  2. Add the eggs and the water and gently work the dough to bind the ingredients together. Do not knead.
  3. Cover with cling film and leave to rest in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

my first chapter! yay! it probably sucks majorly… but oh well..

Chapter One: Meet The Prince

Another party. Same faces. Aren’t these people bored of seeing the same faces all the time? I know I am. I need a good change of scenery. If I don’t, the next person who says ‘oh it’s been forever since I last saw you. Come here and give me a hug’ will see a side I’ve never shown in public.

I was growing bored very quickly as more of these parties happened. I let my eyes wander around, finally my sight resting on my hands. At this point, my fingertips seemed more interesting.

I was nudged by my mother and looked up to see her eyeing me. My posture was off, I looked exasperated. It was all said in her eyes. She didn’t have to tell me anymore. I have heard it enough.

With a silent roll of my eyes, I straightened up, fixing the jacket of my suit. I tried not to look bored while my dad rambled on with some speech and I put on a smile. Man, its stupid things like this that make me hate being Prince.

What was this thing about again? I had no idea and was not going to start paying attention now.

So again, my thoughts ran wild. I scanned the crowd of people who looked as bored as I felt. I knew that more than half of these overly-dressed-suck-ups didn’t want to be here. But I knew the intentions they had in their desperate, manipulative little minds.

Keep reading

The being ducks, so her fist just grazes over his head.

“ASS LORD.” And with that phenomenal display of maturity, she’s jabbed her fingers a bit more successfully against its head– though her face drops as she realizes her fingertips have caught under the joint behind the Thing’s ear, leaving her all but stuck to him
*at an open mic night, playing*

Wait, don’t tell me, heaven is a place on earth. I wish I could rewind all the times that I didn’t show you what you’re really worth … The way, you held me, I wish that I had put you first. I was wrong I admit, numb from your kiss, while you were slipping through my fingertips …

But I really miss cuddling on the couch after a long day
And feeling soft skin pressed against me and under my fingertips
And hearing little sighs and I love yous
And the little kisses that suddenly turn into desperate ones
And feeling her body press into me and her breathing picking up mixed with the quiet little moans…

Yeah.
I really miss that…

Critical Linking: May 4, 2015

       Our daily round-up of bookish links. Tastes great with coffee.

For book lovers, there’s no more magical place than the local bookstore. Endless shelves of stories and characters, all at your eager fingertips. And while most of us have probably spent a significant amount of time wandering the aisles, few of us know what goes on behind the scenes. Here, some insights into the life of a bookstore, gleaned from the people who keep the shelves stocked.

In the aftermath of Independent Bookstore Day, here are 17 Behind-the-Scenes Secrets of Bookstores.

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To celebrate Small Business Saturday, President Obama and his daughters went to Politics & Prose and bought 17 books.

Is Obama the most indie-bookstore friendly President ever?

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“I get more pushback on YA and, frankly, on Victorian women’s poetry than I do on fanfic. Nothing can match the snideness with which male scholars of modernism tend to regard Victorian poetry by women.” But she stressed that she’s a tenured professor, a luxury that some fan studies scholars, many of whom are independent, aren’t afforded. “It gives me a kind of intellectual and professional freedom that is quickly disappearing.”

Main lesson, academia getting interested in fanfiction. Secondary takeaway, dudes everywhere are the worst about YA.

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On May 2nd, request a ride in the Lyft app over to a participating independent bookstore in your city. Once your ride ends and you arrive at the store, use the app to rate and pay your driver, and get your receipt by email. Just show your Lyft receipt on your phone to a store employee and you’ll receive a free canvas tote bag filled to the brim with posters, stickers, keychains, temporary tattoos and more from bestselling series such as Divergent, The Selection and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

Did anyone do this for Independent Bookstore Day?

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We run a pretty sweet little bookish Instagram account, if we do say so ourselves (and we do). Come check it out.