freshly lit

anonymous asked:

Please please please do a Bucky x Reader Blurb based on "Hearts Don't Break Around Here" by Ed Sheeran!!

FUCK YES I CAN

***

Nights at home are Bucky’s favorite. The coziness that emanates from your shared apartment. The smell of freshly lit candles or your one of a kind cooking. The familiar feel of you falling asleep in his arms. 

“Welcome home, Buck,” you whispered as he pulled you into his chest. You had bolted across the room at the sound of the lock jiggling. Bucky’s bag had fallen to the floor immediately in preparation for your oncoming attack. 

“Missed you,” he breathed into your ear. 

You placed a soft kiss to his lips, murmuring, “Missed you more. I made dinner if you’re hungry.”

“Sounds great,” he kissed your cheek, “lead the way.”

Bucky grabbed his bag and gripped your hand as he followed you into the kitchen. When his eyes met the food, he let out a rumbling chuckle. 

“I thought you said you made dinner?” he grinned. 

You shrugged, “Well, I made the call.”

The two of you made your way to the take-out pizza sitting on the table. You didn’t even bother sitting down, opting instead to lean against the counter. Bucky recounted his mission, leaving out the most dangerous parts, as you listened intently. By the time he was done, there was no pizza left and your soft bed was calling. 

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead as you changed into your pajamas. 

“Hurry back,” you urged. 

When Bucky returned, his hair damp, his chest bare, he slid under the covers beside you. You snuggled into his firm chest, as his hand rubbed up and down your arm. The smell of his shampoo calmed you immediately and you felt your eyes begin to droop. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you hummed before closing your eyes. 

“I love you too, doll,” he kissed your forehead once more. 

As you slept peacefully beside him, Bucky couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars for leading him to you. He’d found love in your arms and without it, he didn’t know where he’d be. 

Originally posted by natpekis

Two years ago, Elias had fooled around with a girl four years younger than him and her parents couldn’t stand to see their precious princess of sixteen with a boy like him. So, they moved from the city and, as he had assumed, into the suburbs. He had initially came across her house on accident while his friend was making some deals at a party being held there. He weeded through the crowd of teenagers and almost immediately found her room. He was standing inside, looking at the pictures of her and her friends, and noticed a few that showed her kissing some boy. As he was taking a drag from his freshly lit cigarette, his blue eyes moved to the door at the sound of it opening. When he saw the girl, a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “My…you haven’t changed a bit.”  Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion, and she practically reeked of innocence.

A copy-and-paste questionnaire

Name: Hunter Aloysius Percy
Nicknames: Hap
Zodiac Sign: Scorpio
Height: 5′11
Orientation: Frankly, I don’t have time to entertain such things.
Favorite Fruit: Wild grapes grow in the yard here. They’re flavorful.
Favorite Season: Spring, fall.
Favorite Book: There are so many wonderful studies, theories, and journals. How could I choose? Recently I ordered The Untethered Soul off Amazon. I’ve heard great things about it; hoping I can learn from it.
Favorite Flower: Lilies
Favorite Scent: The first plume of smoke from a freshly lit cigarette or cigar.
Favorite Color: I find neutral, earthy tones to be the most comforting, though sometimes I go for darker, richer colors if I’m dressing for an occasion.
Favorite Animal: This might be unconventional, but humans. Not to say that humans are animals, but rather that, observing and considering all species in existence, the race of mankind is the most interesting one.
Coffee, tea, or hot cocoa?: Coffee, of course.
Average Sleep Hours: When I need to, a full 8. Otherwise, 2-3 suffices.
Cat or dog person?: I have never kept pets.
Favorite Fictional Character: I don’t pay mind to fiction. 
Number of blankets you sleep with: 1-2 
Dream Trip: To be in Europe again… Paris, Rome, Madrid… Enjoying a cigarette after a bite to eat outside a local cafe. Watching people pass, absorbing the rich culture and beautiful architecture. 
Blog Created: 2/14/17
Number of Followers: 24
I tag:

@societyneedstocrumble @buckvuvevo @chemically-defective 

falfarrin  asked:

💭

“Of all of the frustrating creatures I’ve met, Captain Falfarrin easily makes the top five.” A single draw on a hefty cigar brings nearly half of the freshly lit smoke to ashes. The woman pinches herself to slow it down, a desperate move to calm herself before she swallows the whole damn thing. “… But It’s not all his fault.”

“I can see plain as day that the man is capable. His followers- at least the two Ive seen -treat the man with respect even when he’s not around. I will have to see his competence for myself before I truly believe them, but I have high hopes.” Her words slip out like poison drawn from a wound, sharing a similar grimace with the faintest hint of relief tucked away.

“However, fate has chosen to insult me with this man who bears such an uncomfortable resemblance to my missing fiance with words coated in twice the sugar. I know it’s not his fault by any means, but…” All at once a storm cloud of cinders and smoke rolls out from the woman’s nose to rumble across the table. Frustrated with herself above all else, Leah swats the smoke away just to rest her chin on the surface. “…I don’t blame him. I’ll have to curb myself.”

“In one sense, he’s also a bit of an inspiration. I would love to learn a thing or two about honeyed language from him. I doubt I could find a better mentor.” Back arched forward, eyes closed, not much stands to set the woman apart from a slug once more. “He speaks with purpose and flair in a way that is endlessly flattering, even when the dagger is pointed at you. Like a magician holding silk over his blade, it’s hard to compare when my own speech can be as pointed and unpleasant as a Tart’s show-heels.” 


Thanks @falfarrin!

Two years ago, Elias had fooled around with a girl four years younger than him and her parents couldn’t stand to see their precious princess of sixteen with a boy like him. So, they moved from the city and, as he had assumed, into the suburbs. He had initially came across her house on accident while his friend was making some deals at a party being held there. He weeded through the crowd of teenagers and almost immediately found her room. He was standing inside, looking at the pictures of her and her friends, and noticed a few that showed her kissing some boy. As he was taking a drag from his freshly lit cigarette, his blue eyes moved to the door at the sound of it opening. When he saw the girl, a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “My…you haven’t changed a bit.”  Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion, and she practically reeked of innocence.

It has been over three months since they’d last talked to each other, though he saw her sitting at her usual table at the library a week ago.

So when she shows up at his apartment some minutes before sunset (he has lost track of the moving hours since one hundred afternoons ago), he decides he needs a better hiding place for his spare key.

His back is turned, facing away from his bedroom door, but he can tell it’s her by the way the hair on the back of his neck stands up instinctively.

“Why aren’t you with your boyfriend?” he asks, dragging out the freshly lit cigarette out of his mouth. He would have opened the window to clear out the smoke, but the air is beginning to get cold again this week.

“Things got complicated,” she replies, her voice the same as it was a hundred mornings ago. He doesn’t have to turn around to witness the casual shrug she accompanies with her statement. He can see it with his eyes closed.

“What’s complicated to you?”

“Not many things. We broke up.”

He scoffs, bringing his cigarette home to his silent lips.

“You’re not going to ask?” she inquires lightly and he hears her sit on his unmade bed. It hadn’t been made since he moved into the apartment, years ago.

“I’d assume you would tell me anyway.”

She doesn’t reply. He’s sure that she’s rolling her eyes. She walks over to the window he is facing. He looks up from his papers and studies her profile. The evening light shines too warmly on her, he notes. If he doesn’t know any better, his lips would call her beautiful right then and there. He sighs, resigned.

“Fine. Why?”

“He told me he loves me.”

Her voice is tired but victorious; she knew he’d cave in with curiosity. She glances briefly behind her shoulder, finally looking at him after three months of silence.

"He’s delusional. You know I’m not the type one can love.”

He begs to differ so he raises an incredulous eyebrow at her.

“You’re delusional.”

She sighs and plucks the cigarette from his mouth and breaths in the death. He stares at her, concentrated and not faltering as he watches her lips. An entire silent sonata plays as she tries to find the right words to say in her head, and he tries to burn the wrong words to say on his tongue. She replies in time to prevent him from setting himself on fire.

“I don’t believe in love. Not so sure that it really exists. Even if does for some people, it won’t for me. I’m not that type. I used to think that I was but now, I’m sure that I’m not.”

“I happen to think there’s someone out there who has the ability to change your mind.”

She chuckles—not bitterly, just amused. She doesn’t reply. She just continues smoking and opens a window. Neither says anything. The two know what words they can’t say out loud and what words they can. She leans her head out as the wind blows into the room. It wasn’t as cold as he expected but a shiver still ran down his body.

“Since when did the sun start setting so early in the evening?” she observes.

“Since when did you start smoking?” he observes.

She turns towards him, finally staring back into his eyes until she sighs, smothering the cigarette out on his plate.

“What?” She asks and smiles wryly. “I won’t cry anymore.” She promised herself that a few months ago.

“You’ve changed.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“I haven’t.”

“No—no, you haven’t,” she has to agree. He is still in the same chair, at the same desk as the last time she’d seen him. But she is also in the same room, leaning against the same window, too, so perhaps she hasn’t changed much either.

“Since when did you start smoking?”

He is still as persistant as he was the day he was born.

She is still as evasive as she was the day they met.

—  The words we don’t say out loud tell a story better than do the words that leave our lips (C.W.)
The Houses As Places/Scenarios

House 1: A performance hall. All light are on the stage, as the actors play the parts they have been given with vigor and confidence. The audience watches intently as the performers draw them in through the entrancement of characters.

House 2: A luxurious mention where freshly lit candles illuminate the walls lined with beautiful art and a grand piano whispers is soft melody in the corner of the room. A binder of financial records sits on the coffee table in front of a large sofa.

House 3: In the middle of a library a book of dozens of stories is read aloud to a circle of children, each story evolving from the one before in such a way that each tale is both entirely alike and dissimilar at the same time.

House 4: A small suburban home where the only light shines on the dining table. A father hangs his coat as he comes home from work, meanwhile a mother asks about her children today. Hand sewn pillows line the couches and a home-cooked meal is served.

House 5: An easel stands in the center of a child’s craft room with a painting of the child and their best friend standing underneath the tree. Toys and plastic instruments line the brightly colored walls as the sun illuminates each corner of the room.

House 6: A hospital room. Get well soon balloons and cards line the windowsills and flower petals reflect the light of the sun. The nurse sits across from a patient, telling them that they will be going home on Sunday.

House 7: In her bedroom, a teenager looks into the mirror almost entirely obstructed by photos of friends. Love letters are scattered across the desk and her phone vibrates as a text comes through from her partner

House 8: An abandoned library filled with ancient books of unknown wonders is explored as a young person blows the dust off and begins to read by the light of candle.

House 9: Businessmen and women board the plane destined to fly around the world. Filled with cultural experiences and new beginnings, they think of all the preparation they’ve done. They know all there is to know about they places they will visit and will soon experience it for themselves, for life is just one big adventure.

House 10: A man sits down in his study, reading through bills and answering phone calls, a consistent occurrence with his job. His already existing headache is amplified by the sound of a crying baby in the next room, which his wife promptly takes care of.

House 11: A schoolyard. A group of kids sit underneath a tree to eat lunch together on their first day of school. The sound of laughter fills the air as they joke and talk with one another. They have just met, but will be friends for years to come.

House 12: In a bright room with four white walls and no windows a woman crawls into a ball and screams, for she is trapped in her own infinity.

-Starter-

The smell of coffee and burnt toast wafted from the common kitchen area throughout the hallways of the Overwatch living quarters, a scruffy cowboy leaning up against the counter with a blanket wrapped around him and a freshly lit cigarillo between his lips. This was the life, he thought to himself, grabbing his toast out of the oven and spreading a thick layer of peanut butter over it. His coffee was dressed with plenty of sugar and cream, sweet enough to rot a crocodile’s teeth.

He sat down at a table with his feet kicked up and pulled out his holopad, swiping through the different news articles idly until someone or something else came along to steal his attention away.