his body will be ready

Do not allow him to consume you. If he does not call, go to sleep. If he does not message, put your phone away and have a fantastic day anyway. If he acts distant when you are with him and refuses to tell you what is wrong, don’t wait for him, go home and do something you love. If he tries to insinuate you do not need your friends now that you have him, spend more time with your friends. If he tries to teach you a lesson through the silent treatment, ignore him completely.

If he plays with your feelings constantly, walk away from him. If he acts like your body is his entitlement when you are not ready, walk away from him. If he says terrible, unforgivable things and threatens to leave you after every argument, walk away from him. If he forbids you from doing anything you love, walk away from him. If he claims ownership of your accomplishments, walk away from him. If he demeans you or disrespects your being a girl and refuses to stop when you tell him it hurts, walk away from him.


I cannot stress this enough, you live for yourself first. He is a secondary character in the story of your life. Do not allow him to turn you into a secondary character in your own book.

—  Nikita Gill, Advice for Teenage Girls Finding Their Way Through Love.
Can we get some appreciation for Coran and how much he does?

Okay, so I was looking for Coran’s eye color (because I couldn’t remember it) and then I started to look at the list of occupations:

Look at this! LOOK AT THIS! This man has a full plate on his hands. He’s so important and pretty much the key to getting the paladins as far as they have in being true paladins.

He’s been Royal Adviser for a while so there’s no doubt he’s got experience with knowing how to get a kingdom/empire to stay functional and diplomatically handle situations. He’s experienced in advising people on what they should do in tight situations.

Mechanical Engineer. He’s the one that keeps the ship up and running (later with the help of Hunk and Pidge I don’t doubt and I have no doubt he teaches them how things work when they have questions or seem to struggle with something).

Helmsman of the Castle of Lions. He can fly not just the Castle, but probably anything he gets thrown into and if he doesn’t know he’ll probably learn quick, fast, and in a hurry.

Part-time chief for the Team Voltron. Okay so his cooking skills are probably a 50/50 on it being actually tasty to humans (and sometimes even Alteans), but I’m pretty sure he’s been to war and had to make do with what he had to feed not just himself, but probably a platoon.

Chief Medical Officer. This means when the paladins get hurt, he’s taking care of it with or without the help of another. After everything was said and done, he was probably the main one to take care of Lance’s wounds after being seriously injured when the Rover imposter blew up.

Chief Trainer. He was probably part of the military force of Altea so he’s probably experienced in training others to fight in the first place. This is how he probably knows how to train the paladins. Also because of this experience (and probably experience interacting with the former paladins) he has initial doubt because these are just children and they seem to have no experience in fighting (save for Shiro and maybe Keith).

He knows nothing about their capabilities so of course he has doubts if they can make it as paladins, but as he learns more about them, he gets better at training them and finding methods to help them grow in their roles.

We’re gonna keep going with the fighting expertise. We see how he gets in a defensive stance when Pidge yells at Allura.

Originally posted by captbuccaneer

See how he turns his body? He’s ready to lunge to her defense at a moments notice if any of the paladins take a turn for the worse and attack her. And what happens when the food get’s thrown at her? He shows fighting experience and blocks the food so that not only she is protected, but himself so he can keep defending her should the need arise (despite it not being fatal to get food on his clothes

Even on the wikia it says “The eyes of a man who’s seen far, far too much pain in his lifetime.”

Look at his face:

Those are the eyes of someone that’s seen too much pain in his lifetime. As I’ve previously stated: there’s a high probability he’s been to war and that’s a lot of pain and suffering.

Teacher of the paladins. Trainer and teacher are two completely different things. While yes, trainers teach, they merely train a certain aspect. As a teacher he gives life lessons and gives them guidance. As a teacher he cares about his students as we see here:

When Lance is homesick he comforts him as best he can. He understands because he’s homesick, too (the only difference being he can never go back to his home because it was destroyed).

He teaches them lessons about things they had no prior knowledge of.

Hunk doesn’t know that the Balmera is a living thing or why they shouldn’t yank the crystals out of the earth, but Coran doesn’t yell at him over not knowing or get frustrated. He calmly explains, “It’s not a planet. Balmera are ancient animals. Petrified, but still alive. Their bodies naturally create the crystals that help power many Altean ships. I often accompanied my grandfather to visit these majestic creatures when he was building the Castle of Lions.

Long story short, give this man some love because he’s so underappreciated.

anonymous asked:

Hello! These blogs are so super helpful, and yours is here just in time for me to begin writing my story! So thank you so much for your help in advance. I'm writing a story about a soldier that was captured during war. Part of the story is him struggling to trust his therapist enough to open up about what happened. During this time where he refuses to talk to anyone, how would PTSD affect his everyday actions, his thoughts, etc.? Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. Have a great weekend!!!

Hooboy. I’m going to just list several symptoms of PTSD and explain how they would each drain his energy and limit his ability to do things and how to include these in your writing. 

1. Hyper-Arousal

  • Hyper-vigilance: Every little sound and shadow is going to make his brain go into overdrive. It is going to kick his fight-or-flight mode on high and its almost never going to calm down. This is EXTREMELY draining. His brain and body is going to be a coiled spring, ready for danger, at all times. This is physically exhausting and drains spoons incredibly quickly. 
    • Some ways this will change his daily life - he won’t be able to spend as much time in crowds or even just outside his house because there is too much stimulation for him to handle for to long. He probably won’t sleep well because again, all those little noises houses make at night is going to make him panic and lose more spoons - he could combat this by getting a white noise machine. 
  • Emotional Outbursts: Many individuals with PTSD may experience unstable emotional states. 
    • It wouldn’t be odd for him to suddenly feel very angry or irritable with no recognizable reason or target. He may also swing the other way and start crying without any warning. These episodes are extremely draining and there frequency may prevent your character from getting things done. 
  • Lack of Concentration: High levels of distraction, the hyper-vigilance, the adrenaline constantly running through his body is going to make if difficult for your character to concentration for an extended period of time.
    • This lack of concentration may make it difficult for your character to work, attend school, do homework or fill out things like medical forms for doctors appointments. This could lead to him pushing such appointments back because he is unable to prepare for them.

2. Avoidance 

  • Situational Avoidance: Your character is going to try to avoid any situation that might remind him of his trauma.
    • If he was in a tank that was bombed, he may go out of his way to avoid driving. If something happened in a wooded area, he may take a longer route to avoid a similar area because it reminds him of his trauma. This could make your character miss deadlines, appointment times, or cause a significant amount of time to be dedicated to this avoidance which means other things will not get done. 
  • Social Isolation: Another type of avoidance is social avoidance - this means your character may avoid his family and friends, either because he doesn’t have the energy to be social or being around other people cause him to panic. Being forced into these situations would drain his energy very quickly.
    • This may cause him to avoid things like birthday celebrations, holiday parties, any type of gathering. These events are going to be extremely exhausting as your character is already tired and the amount of people and noise are going to exhaust him. 
    • Something else that might influence his social isolation is his PTSD influencing his view of other people - he may begin to mistrust others and feel as if the world is a dangerous place. This mindset is extraordinarily draining and would significantly impact his energy levels. 
  • Triggers: Triggers are sights, sounds, smells, situations, items; pretty much anything that reminds your character of his trauma. 
    • Before he is aware of his triggers, he will most likely stumble upon many of them and suffer from flashbacks or anxiety attacks, which is extremely exhausting.
    • When he knows his triggers, he is going to try his best to avoid them, which may mean changing his routine, getting up earlier to go shopping when it is quieter, not going to fun events like fairs or the movies because he doesn’t want to fun into a trigger. 
    • Triggers are often unavoidable or unexpected, prompting exhausting anxiety attacks or flashbacks multiple times a day, eating up time to get things done and exhausting your character.
      • Consider what his trauma consists of - does it involve guns? If so, it might not be just real guns that can trigger an anxiety attack or flashback. Plastic guns, guns in movies or TV shows, sounds that are similar like a car backfiring or fireworks, the smell of gunpowder, even just something that shoots something, like a Nerf Gun. Think through his potential triggers and then think about all the situations those could be found in - he is going to have to schedule his entire day around avoiding these triggers, especially when he is not actively working with his therapist on his trauma at this point.

3. Flashbacks/Remembering the Trauma

  • Nightmares: When he does fall asleep, he is most likely going to have nightmares. 
    • He may or may not remember the specifics of the nightmare, but he will most likely wake up in a panic, shaking, sweating. It’s going to take him a long time to fall back to sleep, if he even does. If he does fall back to sleep, it may be a very tense sleep, waking up frequently and not allowing his body to relax - this means he is going to wake up in the morning already exhausted, anxious, and running on panic. 
  • Flashbacks: Flashbacks are often one of the stereotypical symptoms of PTSD, however they are extremely common. Flashbacks may happen multiple times a day, at varying severity each time. 
    • One type of flashback is an emotional flashback - these flashbacks only affect the individuals emotional state, not their senses. So if your character is triggered and reminded of his trauma, his emotional state may quickly move to match the emotional state during the trauma - so intense fear, adrenaline, anger, sadness. These intense episodes that may come at anytime, last up to an hour, and are extremely exhausting. 
    • The common type of flashbacks you see in media are sometimes called ‘full flashbacks’ or ‘psychological flashbacks’. This is when the brain believes that it is back during the traumatic event, and the individuals senses - sight, hearing, smell, taste - are going to be taken back to the moment of the trauma. Your character will not be fully in reality at the time and any attempts to touch or otherwise break the individual out of the flashback could result in a negative or fearful reaction. These flashbacks can also last a significant amount of time and be draining. 

Now, you said that this was before your character began working with his therapist, but these symptoms won’t go away suddenly. As your character begins to work through his trauma and develop coping skills, these symptoms may decrease in severity or disappear all together eventually. However, some PTSD sufferers will always have some of these symptoms and have to cope with them. 

I hope this helps!

- Mod Riley

The Photograph

Hi babes! This is a fluffy oneshot about Peter having a crush on one of Michelle’s friends at Midtown High. One day, he spots her reading outside and secretly takes a photo of her because he thinks that she looks too perfect to go unseen, and he pins the photo up in the back of his locker. Everything is fine until Flash Thompson gets his hands on Peter’s photo and brings it to her attention. After that, awkward cuteness ensues and I hope that you all like it!

The Photograph

Hot licks of pain seared throughout Peter’s body. His lip was split, there was a purpling bruise on his temple that was accompanied by a headache so powerful that it’s aching refused to be ignored. Even walking from class to class was taking a toll on Peter. He was exhausted and in pain, but Peter remained hellbent on keeping Queens safe, no matter the cost.  

    Peter’s eyes glazed over and his body was ready to shut down. Doing his best to keep himself up on his feet, he focused on the photo that he had tacked up of her in the back of his locker.

    In the photo, the girl was outside, hidden beneath the shade of a rather large tree. She was stretched out on a light pink blanket, a copy of Charles Baudelaire’s, ‘The Flowers of Evil,’ open in front of her. There was a carton of fresh strawberries and a rather oversized iced coffee balanced haphazardly against her backpack on the ground with her, and every so often, Peter recalled how delightedly blissful she looked each time she bit into a ripe berry. The sun’s rays, the soft breeze wandering through the tree’s leaves, and the chatter bumbling down to her from their shared high school didn’t even faze the girl. Her mind remained with the poet’s.

    After a few minutes of watching her, Peter felt soothed. Everything about her made him feel better. He loved the way she licked her lips after she ate, he loved the way that she read her favorite verses aloud, he loved the way that she laughed at herself when she nearly spilled her coffee, and he loved the way that she helped him forget about the constant stress that was now heavily present in his life.

    When Peter finally snapped the photo, she was laying on her side, one hand wound into her silky hair to keep it out of her eyes, and the other hand holding her poetry book open. Her eyes were focused on comprehending the poems on each page, but she wore a soft smile on her lips that made it clear that she wasn’t scrutinizing anything too intensely. The girl was merely enjoying her free period in the sun and Peter longed to do the same.

    Since then, Peter looked for her in almost every hallway, in every classroom window, and everyday at lunch. They’d spoken a handful of times, seeing as they were in the same history class, but other than class discussions, Peter hadn’t mustered up the nerve to say hello outside of an intellectual, in-class debate.

    One day, she was late to history and when she’d walked into the room, she found that her normal seat next to the window had been taken, so she headed towards the first empty desk she saw. Peter, already occupying one of the seats, nearly suffered a heart attack when she placed her binder next to his and offered him a quiet “good morning.”

    It had taken Peter a few seconds to force his brain to form a response to her and then to get his mouth to open and say the words that his brain was attempting to communicate back to her. When he stuttered out, “hey, yeah, good morning,” she didn’t tease him for his weirdness, instead she smiled at him and Peter could’ve melted onto the floor right then and there.

    During that day’s lecture, their teacher was detailing women’s struggles throughout the years to gain the 19th amendment, which won women of all colors, and social standings the right to vote. She scribbled down notes and nodded in agreement with the teacher as she spoke of Ida B. Well’s, Lucy Burns’ and Alice Paul’s courageous actions in the suffrage movement. It was only after Flash Thompson opened his mouth that Peter observed a frown cross over her features.

    “Why didn’t they just keep doing what Florence Kelley advised? If they had followed her directions, they wouldn’t have gotten radical and thrown into prison. Florence Kelley was meeting with President Woodrow Wilson, and he explained to her why he couldn’t grant women suffrage right then, but he said he would going forward. The National Women’s Party didn’t know what they were doing, and furthermore, they set the women’s rights movement back with their crazy antics.” Flash finished, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair.

    Glancing over at the girl in the chair next to him, Peter knew that not only was Flash painfully incorrect and uneducated, but she was clearly getting ready to put Flash back into his place.

    “Wow, that’s actually so, so, so wrong.” She started, turning slightly in her chair to face Flash, “if Florence Kelley had kept asking President Wilson to recognize women as intelligent, reasonable beings capable of making a decisive decision, it’s unlikely that the 19th amendment would’ve been passed in 1920. The only reason women were granted suffrage is because of The National Woman’s Party. These women marched, were beaten in the streets, picketed in front of the White House, and were thrown into jail for the good of women everywhere. President Wilson only granted women the right to suffrage after women were dying in prison due to the hunger strike Alice Paul began. Not to mention, while these women were imprisoned, they were denied basic human rights and the entire reason they were in locked away in jail was because they were blocking traffic on the sidewalk. It took drastic measures to humanize women in men’s eyes and without the heroic antics of these women, who knows where women would stand today. I mean, a woman’s right to her own body is something that could be taken away at any moment, and women are constantly battling the image that men have imposed upon us. Therefore, your opinion is invalid because you apparently cannot grasp the severity of the situation, past and present.”

    Peter, as well as the rest of the class, was stunned into silence. Normally, she didn’t partake in class discussions because she was shy, but now that she had, everyone in the room was shocked by the intellect that she had just destroyed Flash with. Peter wanted nothing more than to hear her speak all day, and maybe to introduce her to Aunt May.

    Peter could barely focus as Michelle began to back her up. Leaning closer to the wonderfully insightful girl next to him, Peter let her know just how clever he found her. “That was amazing, everything you said was perfect and spot-on. That was the greatest thing that I’ve ever seen and I can’t wait for you do it again.” Peter congratulated the girl.

    “You don’t think it was too much?” She asked worriedly, biting her lip and fiddling with the pencil in her hands.

    Peter shook his head, his eyes wide, “No, no! Absolutely not! You would’ve made Alice Paul very proud.”

    Placing a hand atop of his, she thanked him with a smile. “You’re the best, Peter,” she said before turning her focus back to their teacher.

    After that, she had joined Peter on Flash’s hit-list, so Peter should’ve known better than to try and relax with his locker wide open. Peter was knocked out of his daydream of going home to her and simply curling up around her to sleep by Flash’s grabby hand, first shoving him out of the way, and then stealing his photo of her.

    As Flash rushed down the hall, Peter struggled after him, both boys trying to beat each other to where she stood deep in conversation with Michelle about the numerous male authors whose most famous novels were stolen works from their wives.

    “Flash, don’t” Peter shouted, as he tried to ignore the shooting pain traveling up his body.

    “Too late, Penis Parker,” Flash called as he weaved gracefully inbetween students to get to their target.

    “Oh my gosh,” Michelle muttered, rolling her eyes as she nodded her head towards the two boys heading their way. “Losers.”

    “His lip is bleeding,” She said, concern lacing into her tone. “Do you think he’s okay?”

    “Your boyfriend is fine, probably tripped over a lego or something on his way to the bathroom and banged his head into the wall on his way down.” Michelle tried to reason with her friend. She’d detected that her friend and Peter had the biggest of crushes on one another way before either one of them had, and she had made it her mission to mock them every chance she got.

    Flash was the first to reach the two girls, holding up the photo of her that Peter had taken of her reading outside. “Parker, Penis.” He wheezed, “Penis Parker took this picture of you and had it taped up behind his textbooks in his locker.” Bending over to soothe the splint in his side, Flash handed the photo to the confused girl in front of him.

    As Peter came to a stop in front of her and Michelle, he groaned and threw his hands up into the air, uttering a barely audible, “fuck.”

    When the girls saw Peter up close, they found that Peter was barely recognizable due to all of the bruises masking his pale skin. Quickly handing the photo to Michelle, the girl surged forward, lightly grabbing onto Peter’s sweater to steady him. “Peter, what happened to you? You’re hurt,” she questioned, growing a little more distraught as she studied him face to face.

    “The picture, I’m sorry, I know it’s so creepy. I didn’t mean to be a weirdo and I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I swear that I’m not stalking you.” Peter mumbled, trying unsuccessfully to keep his lip from bleeding.

    “Peter, I don’t care about the photo. What happened to you? Oh no, your lip is bleeding,” She rambled, steering Peter towards the bench nearest to them. “Sit,” she instructed, digging through her backpack for a tissue to dab Peter’s cut with.

    “You’re seriously not going to say anything about the picture he clearly took of you?” Flash whined, refusing to accept defeat.

    Michelle raised her eyebrows, “No, I think it’s disturbing too. You’re not alone in that, Flash.”

    “Do you need ice?” She asked Peter, guiding Peter to look up so she could inspect his face for any further damage. “You need ice, Michelle, could you please go get him ice? Flash, could you please go away?” She asked, looking at the pair over her shoulder.

    Flash was nearly beside himself, “it’s weird! You have to acknowledge that it’s weird that he not only took a photo of you without your knowledge, but that he has it pinned up like you are his girlfriend or something? Really not going to say anything about that?”

    “For all you know,” she said, turning to face Flash as she did that day in class, “Peter could very well be my boyfriend!”

    Peter’s jaw dropped so far that she had to readjust his head to keep the tissue on his open wound. Gently prying her helping hand from his lip, “wait, really?” Peter asked. “You’d be my girlfriend after all this?”

    “This is disgusting,” Michelle interjected. Handing Peter’s photo back to him, she grabbed Flash by the collar of his polo shirt and dragged him down the hallway. “We’ll be back with ice and some band-aids.”

    She and Peter could hear Flash’s discontented grumbles as he followed Michelle down to the nurse’s office to retrieve some medical aid for Peter.

    “Are you really not freaked out?” Peter asked, staring up at her with big, brown, puppy-dog eyes.

    Sighing, she moved to stand in between Peter’s legs to inspect how much further his lip had split. “If you keep talking, the cut is never going to heal. This,” she gestured to Peter’s clearly damaged frame, “freaks me out more than anything. What’s happening to you? If I can help you, please let me. I care about you and I hate that you’re hurt.” She pouted.

    She was so close that Peter could smell all the floral notes in her perfume, and if he wanted to, he could hug himself close to her and never let go. “I can’t tell you what’s happening, but if I stop, things will get worse. Not just for me, but for everyone. I’m trying to help.”

    Running a hand through his hair, she shook her head. “Then let me help you. If you’re helping everyone, you deserve to have someone help you, and I want you to let me be that person, Peter.”

    Pinching the palm of his hand, Peter spotted Flash and Michelle returning with ice, ointment and bandages in hand, and he knew that he had to be quick. “It would really help me if you went out to dinner with me. Just being with you would help me. That’s why I took the picture of you. Every day that I felt like I was drowning, I would look at you, well the picture of you, and it would help me to breath again.”

    “Pick me up on Saturday. I’ll be ready at 7:30,” she agreed, much to not only Peter’s, but Flash’s surprise.

    “Come on!” Flash hissed, “how is it that Parker gets a date with a hot girl after he hides in the bushes and takes secret pictures of her? What the hell is going on right now? Do I live in the twilight zone?”

    “For fucks sake, Flash.” Michelle muttered, turning to him with squared shoulders, “she clearly knew that he was taking the photos of her. Who would smile while reading ‘The Flowers of Evil?’ And beyond that, she’s liked him for months and he’s liked her for months. All you’ve really done is finally bring them closer together. Congratulations Flash, your plan has officially backfired.”

    Flash groaned throughout the rest of the day and Michelle planned on teasing him for the rest of the school year. The girl’s cheeks were flushed pink until she went to sleep, and Peter couldn’t stop smiling, even though it only made the split in his lip worse.

   


My Girl

Request: Okay, so this is Sirius x Reader where you like him and he likes you but neither of you know that and you ask the Marauders and Lily and Marlene if they wanna go to Hogsmeade or whatever the next day but they are all busy except Sirius. So you guys go and you get cold so he gives you his hoodie and you forget to return it or don’t want to because it smells like him and when you do at the end of the day he gets really happy because it smells like you and he wears it. Basically just fluff thanks.

Word Count: About 2,800.

Warning(s): Sexual tension, slightly suggestive comments, Sirius being hot as hell, kissing and stuff.

Note: In summary, this is a Sirius x Reader work about a cold night at Hogsmeade. Also, I deviated a bit from the request. Just a bit.


“We’re all still on for tonight, right?”

“Yeah.” Lily nodded, shrugging on a warm jacket as she headed out the door. “Marlene said to meet them in the common room before we go.”

As you made your way down the staircase next to Lily, you spotted James, Peter, and Marlene lounging on a sofa near the fireplace. Huddled together, the trio seemed to be in a heated conversation.

Nearing them, you heard their hushed whispers.

“Hogsmeade–”

“Just make up some excuse to–”

Once Peter spotted you approaching, however, he nudged the other two into silence. 

“Y/N! Lily!” exclaimed Marlene, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. “Just the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

With a quirked eyebrow, you took a seat on the arm of the couch. When they smiled innocently at you, you shook your head with a small laugh, looking around the room. You thought it might be best to ignore their impish antics. Around you, the Gryffindor common room was bustling with life and chatter. But amidst it all, you couldn’t spot Sirius.

Not that you were waiting for him, of course. He just happened to cross your mind as you looked around.

“He’s almost ready,” said James, a cheeky grin playing on his face.

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{PART 26} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook attempts to do the impossible; keep Yoongi under control for as long as he can in his own Manor. But, after an unsuspecting escalation - everything ends in tears…and blood.

“How sobering it is, to love something that evil can corrupt”

  • || Warning: This chapter contains violence and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 25} {Part 26} {Part 27}

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The Unspoken Game

A/N: So like said before I wasn’t ever going to post this because this was orginally for Chloe who’s been a little ran down lately. So no judgements ! This is a Thomas fic WHO I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ABOUT EVER ! BE PROUD OF ME LOL ! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I know that Chloe did !

Dedicated to: @writing-obrien

Warning: God, the smut tho. I’m just be warned.

Word count: 2714

Originally posted by space-ing-out

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#3 Masturbation (Destiel)

Requested anonymously for my kink list (master list here).

Warning: masturbation, voyeurism

Word Count: 1000

A/N: Enjoy some Destiel porn! XOXO

Castiel watches Dean masturbate a lot.

The first time it happened, it was almost an accident. Dean had been in the shower, relieving some tension, and ‘Cas’ had simply been the thought in his mind. He must have thought it pretty hard too (though he would never admit to yearning or longing or praying as Cas had said), because Cas felt it.

It had been a huge surprise for both of them when Cas showed up in the bathroom, to say the least. But it was a nice surprise, and Dean had welcomed Cas to stay.

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i. the earthquake
the day he left,
my world crumbled;
as i lay sobbing in the rubble
of everything i’d ever loved,
i looked up to the sky
and begged god to tell me why.
i stopped believing that day.
ii. the first aftershock
my heart was numb
and repairs had just begun
when a new man approached.
i melted into his touch,
pleading that he make me
feel something.
i never did, and we never spoke again.
iii. the second aftershock
i had good and bad days,
but the good ones started
outnumbering the bad;
that’s when i met him.
he looked at me sincerely
and spoke eloquently
like in an old-fashioned love letter,
but he was far too perfect to be true.
i wanted to love him
but i was still building up
a new foundation,
and i decided he wouldn’t be
there when the structure was finished.
i see him sometimes from a distance.
iv. the last aftershock
the dark clouds that had rained
down upon me for months
disappeared from sight.
sometimes i dreamt of
the initial disaster;
it haunted me only
at my weakest moments.
another man waltzed in to
rob me of my heart.
he charmed me with
well-timed compliments,
unparalleled intelligence,
and occasional awkwardness.
for a moment, i considered
giving in to him,
but i stood tall and remembered
that i didn’t need anyone else
to give me strength.
i walked away.
v. the calm
after a year and a half of aftershocks,
everything ceased.
i could listen to songs
that reminded me of the quake
and reread my happy poems
from the months leading up to it.
i learned how to love myself,
and, then, i met another man.
this one understood my suffering;
he’d been through the same.
he accepted that i was slow to trust,
and he was always considerate.
he was too cautious sometimes,
but his hands never graced my body
before i was ready.
his words were never eloquent,
but he didn’t manipulate me.
he was never a genius,
but he was naturally talented
at everything.
he left me speechless.
he still leaves me speechless.
—  the earthquake, his aftershocks, and the calm // lemonadeangelwriting
So okay, real talk about Bucky and the MCU and how they might show him getting out of cryo and getting a new arm and getting freed of the triggers...

So we know it’s unlikely that we’ll get a big involved scene of all of that (which is why we write all the fic), but can you imagine, given Bucky’s (and Seb’s) history of wrenching post-credit scenes, how powerful they could make that happen in a condensed button scene? I mean, we still watch with awe and bated breath that moment in CATWS where he’s staring at his own history at the Smithsonian, so imagine a scene something like this:

Opens with an extreme close up of a metal arm, perhaps with Cap’s shield painted on it or maybe still with the iconic red star, as it’s being set into his shoulder socket, and all you hear is a Wakandan voice, maybe T’Challa’s or someone significant we meet in the Black Panther movie, saying, “Because your mind is now truly free, it is time for your body to be truly whole as well.”

Cut to Bucky’s face, his eyes filled with tears, but he’s smiling. The first true, big, full, sunny, so-happy-he’s-crying smile we’ve seen from him since the Smithsonian video footage in CATWS. He can’t speak, he’s too overwhelmed, but he can smile.

Then you see Steve’s hand squeezing his right shoulder in that iconic way they do to one another. Maybe Steve will have on a uniform that hints that the squabble with the Accords, Tony, the WSC et al have been resolved. But if not, we still know it’s Steve because it’s that special move they have with each other. No one else does that to either character. It’s the signature representation of their bond.

Fade to black.

Seriously, Seb would slay a scene like that. And I would die right there in the theater.

Humans Are Weird - Prosthetics

So, I’ve just binged on a bunch of “Humans are Weird”/”Space Australia” posts and I’ve absolutely fallen in love with the ideas and the concepts, and I figured I’d toss my hat into the ring with something I haven’t seen much (if any) of - Humans with physical disabilities. I’m of the thought that some aliens are like starfish, and can just regrow their limbs after a period of time if lost, and other aliens will retire their crippled to more ‘homely duties’ with assistance by other aliens, or that some aliens will be rid of their crippled in search of a physically strong race.

—–

Zan’via had dealt with humans on their travels before, having even crewed on a few ships with small teams of humans on a few missions. And they could say that they were impressed: while a lot of the stories they had heard were true, there were many more things that he had not heard of but had seen that had left him thoroughly surprised and, in some cases, even somewhat scared.

They never expected to encounter anything like this.

To be fair, all the captain had asked of Zan’via to do was to go retrieve the ship’s head of security (a human that all of the crew referred to as ‘Chief’) for a pre-landing brief. And the Chief’s door was open upon reaching his berthing, so Zan’via didn’t feel the need to knock.

Finding the human with only their underclothes on wasn’t what shocked Zan’via. Seeing half of the human’s left leg on the desk across the room was.

“Christ mate, you should’ve knocked.” The human said with a breath of relief, having been caught by surprise by Zan’via.

“I apologise, Chief, I forgot that your species has reservations about being seen in a state of undress.” Zan’via responded, their eyes still fixed on the limb still resting on the desk top. The human noted this and sighed, reaching over to grab the leg and get it ready to attach onto his body.

“So, what’s up?” ‘Chief’ asked nonchalantly as he undid a few clips on the metal plate just below his knee and started lining up the connectors on the prosthetic limb with the plate.

“The captain has requested your presence on the bridge… what are you doing with your limb?”

“Just putting my leg on for the day.”

“I was not aware that your species had removable limbs…”

“Oh, we don’t. This is a replacement for the one I lost a number of years back.”

“But it looks artificial. I remember reading that humans can survive a number of injuries and heal back remarkably well.” To this, Chief laughed.

“Mate, there’s a difference between recovering from a few broken ribs and a large penetrating wound, and having your leg completely severed from just below the knee. Our bones can reform from breaks and fractures, our skin can seal back up, and some of our organs can and will grow back if we lose parts of them, but we cannot regenerate a large part of our body after an injury like that. And after decades of leaving people crippled after an accident or a defect leaves a person without an arm, or a leg, or a hand, we developed technology that allowed those people to regain their lost ability.” Chief finished clipping his leg on and rotated his ankle around to test functionality. “At first it was just to help people walk and move around, but as time went on, our prosthetic technology advanced to the point where we can replace entire organs without any loss in functionality. Hell, some of the replacement parts we’ve made can even exceed what the human body can do naturally.”

“But why?” Zan’via was still having trouble comprehending exactly why humans would want to do such a thing. Chief shook his head and stood up, beginning to put on the rest of his duty uniform.

“Because we believe that everyone should have the best quality of life, regardless of their circumstances. Just because you don’t have an arm doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to write or fly. Just because you don’t have a leg doesn’t mean you can’t run or jump or dance. Some people lose their limbs in accidents and find life afterwards hard because they can’t do things they once did beforehand. Others are born missing limbs, and never get the chance to do things ‘normal’ people can do. If we can provide a chance for them to live life like the rest of us, then why not?”

“I think I understand… somewhat.” Zan’via’s eyes then locked back onto the now-covered leg, then back up to the Chief’s face. The human could see what his companion wanted to ask next.

“Vee-Bee-Ess-Ess gone wrong, about six years ago. I slipped off a walkway on a Torian cargo vessle and my leg caught between a support beam and a storage container. Combat Medics had to sever my leg to free me. I was in hospital for a couple of months for healing and installation of the neural interface that allows me to move my leg the way I do, then another seven months in rehabilitation to learn how to walk again.” Chief then lifted his leg and rotated his ankle, then set it down and jumped and twisted around. Zan’via watched and just from observing, they could not see any major signs that the human was any different from any normal human. “Now I’m good as new, and have been kicking ass since.”

“I can see.” Zan’via backed up and let the chief pass them through the doorway as the pair made their way to the bridge. “Does it hurt?”

“The pain never really goes away, to be honest. Sometimes it feels like I’ve still got my old leg there, even when the new one isn’t attached. ‘Phantom Limb Syndrome’, they call it. But I manage, I’ve done so for six years so far.” The human then looked to Zan’via, and they could see the glint of determination in the human’s eyes. “If keeping my job and doing what I love meant that I had to have all my limbs fully replaced, then I’d do so in a heartbeat. Nothing can stop a human from a goal, nothing but death.”

Zan’via stood in place as the human continued on towards the bridge, dwelling over what the human had told them. The next chance they got, they would write it down into the ‘notes’ section of the manual in regards to humans.

Vee-Bee-Ess-Ess = VBSS = Visit, Board, Search and Seizure

BTS’s reaction to you playing their song on the piano:

A/N: Here you are, sweetie ❤️ I really hope you enjoy it! Hopefully it’s as filled full of feels as you wanted~


Jin: Jin pricks his ears, and listens to the melodious chords fluttering to his ears. You haven’t played the piano in a while. It’s good to finally hear the dusty old instrument in use. He heads towards the sound, before a bout of realisation has him stopping at the door, where just inside he can see your curved figure leaning over the keys, sweeping the music along with your fingers. He knows this tune. It’s his tune - ‘Awake’.

And without any warning - no cracking or breaking, just out of the blue, like thunder in June - tears well up in his eyes, and shimmer to the brink of spilling over. Of all the songs you could have picked, you picked the one he needs to hear. He can still remember the emotions that tumbled through him when he first sang this song: the desperation he felt to keep up with his six brothers, the terror he recoiled from, a fear of falling behind. Yet, here he is, years later, still trembling and afraid, but trying hard to mask it – reduced to tears behind the living room door. Except… no. Things have changed. Back then, he didn’t have you – you, who keep his chin up, and his eyes fixed firmly on the clouds. You, who believe without an inkling of a doubt that he can go further, stretch farther, and climb higher than he ever realised. You, who everyday whisper to him, ‘Kim Seokjin, how luck am I to have you?’ Really, he should be the one asking you. After all, if it weren’t for you, he’d still be on the ground, tear-dampened gaze filtering to fickle mist-clouds he could never reach. Now, here he is, flying – soaring – because of you. Up past blue and into the star sprinkled black of space.

The tears are falling now, but they feel good – warm and wet like a spring shower. It’s been a while since he cried - properly, like this. He opens the door, and you turn in your seat to face him, and when he holds out his arms, you run to him, and burrow into his heat. While you rest your head in the crook between his shoulder and his neck, he sings the rest of the tune in low tones. “Maybe I can’t touch the sky, but I’ll stretch my arm.”

Originally posted by snowyjin


Yoongi: It has been a tough day for Min Yoongi. He’s been sat in the studio all afternoon, all evening, and well into the night, fiddling on his laptop, trying to get the latest track just right. When he closes his eyes, he can still see the square of light from his screen, burned in blue onto his retina. He arrives back at his house, completely drained of energy, only to be greeted by a gentle wave of music when he opens the door. And despite all the muscles in his face being past their stretching point, they still manage to push up into a smile when he hears you tinkling away on the piano, playing a song he produced (of course, nothing else would do for you), playing something he hasn’t heard in a while - ‘Tomorrow’.

You stop playing when you hear him enter the room, peeking over your shoulder at his tired face.

“Please continue,” he rasps.

Your brows tip up in concern, sensing how tired he is, but you return to your music without pressing him with a ‘how was your day?’. In a few steps he’s sitting down on your right-hand side, and his fingers fitting into the groves of the worn ivory keys, he unfolds a gentle harmony in the treble cleft.

You continue on, the both of you enraptured in the music, until Yoongi’s playing fades away, and as you turn to him, wondering why he’s stopped, his head lolls onto your shoulder. Smiling, you brush a few stray wisps of hair away from his face. “Tired?”

He nods into your shoulder, eyes closing as you pick up the tune again, slower and more lullaby-like.

“Rest all you want,” you tell him, “I’m not letting you go back to work, until I know you’ve fully recovered.” Then, as he slowly slips into sleep, you whisper the lyrics from ‘Tomorrow’ he needs to hear most: “Wherever you are right now, you’re just taking a break. Don’t give up… Don’t get too far away, tomorrow.”

Originally posted by sugagifs


Hoseok: Outside, the wind whisks up a torrent of leaves, clattering in shades of frozen amber against your window, but inside, cut off from the cold autumn storm, it glows with warmth, drenched in the heat of love and affection – mainly Hoseok’s love and affection, directed at you. As you sit at the piano, running through a soft re-imagining of ‘Autumn Leaves’, he watches in appreciation, head resting in his hands, breath snatched away at the way your fingers ghost across the keys, eyes half-closed, drowned in the melody.

As the final chords hang in the air, Hoseok rouses himself from the trance you have placed him in and begins clapping in appreciation – the sole audience member in this private concert. “Wow! Y/N, just… wow! That was… wow….” He tries to search for a word to aptly describe the feelings you have stirred in him, but nothing surfaces, so instead, he crosses the distance between you, and expresses himself with a gentle hand on your cheek and a breathy kiss that presses warmth into your lips.

When he pulls away, your fingers reach out, wanting him back – and, smiling, he obliges, balancing on the edge of the piano stool so he can be that extra bit closer to you.

With the first pitter-patters of rain starting up outside, Hoseok starts up another kind of storm with you – flurries of kisses dropping down onto your skin. As the leaves fall, you fall in love.

Originally posted by joeguk


Namjoon: Sometimes, Namjoon really doesn’t like himself. When it’s late in the evening, and the light’s fading, he really doesn’t like himself. When he’s wasted away the day, erasing work, rather than progressing, he really doesn’t like himself. When he can’t force a smile without cracking, he really doesn’t like himself.

But, at least he’s coming home to you. And he knows that, despite all the negativity that’s oozing through him like sewage water, you love him. Even in moments of doubt, like right now, when he arrives home, faded, and ghostly, and wondering if he’s likeable, he hears you wandering through chords on the piano, and he knows that you know. Because he recognises the song – ‘Reflection’. It’s your reminder that it’s okay – all of it.

He leans back against the door as the familiar notes hit him – spine pressing to the wood and head tilting back till he’s gazing up at the grey ceiling. There may be no words, but each jump of your fingers across the black and ivory keys speaks to him. He hears. He understands.

After a few moments, after a few deep breaths, he feels himself – his real self – float back into his body, and he’s ready to greet you. He steps forward, into the light of the music room, where you shift to glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. The music keeps on spinning out. He smiles at you, and you smile back, and that’s all it takes for Namjoon to like himself like you love him.

Originally posted by myloveseokjin


Jimin: “Forever we are young, amidst the scattering rain of flower petals I run, wandering through this maze.” Jimin can’t help but sing the last few lines of the familiar song while you rest upon the final chords on the piano.

Turning to him, eyes shining bright, you say, “Your singing still sounds as beautiful as it did when you first sang this song.”

Jimin heaves out a sigh. “That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” His mind flickers back to those days, an eternity ago (try a few years, but they feel infinite), when you didn’t exist in his life. So many things have changed since then. He’s changed since then.

Sensing a shift in his mood, you reach out your hands to him, hoping for a hold on his uncertain frame, quivering on the edge of being lost to remembering. In answer to your silent plea, he steps closer and winds his arms around your shoulders. You ground him back in reality with your head resting on his chest.

“It wasn’t so long ago…” you murmur.

“Sure feels like it though.” Stifling thoughts begin clinging onto Jimin, realisations of how far on his life has progressed, how much closer he is to stepping off the cusp of youth… realisations that the lyrics of the song you played can’t be true. He won’t be young forever, and neither will you. It terrifies him.

You stretch your neck to gaze up at him. “We’re still young,” you assure him, “And even when we grow old, and get grey-haired and wrinkly, we’ll stay young – on the inside at least. All I need is you by my side, and I feel like I could stay vibrant and strong for the rest of my life.”

How is it that you always know what to say? Jimin swallows down his foul-tasting fears and kisses the top of your head. “Young forever, you and me.”

Originally posted by lonastic


Taehyung: As you drift through the dream-enhancing chords, sat over the piano, Taehyung stands on the other side of the door, enraptured and enwrapped by your playing. When the final notes peel away into a calm quiet, he opens the door to be greeted by your smile.

“Just One Day?” Taehyung asks, although he doesn’t need an answer from you – he recognises the melody like he recognises the freckles on your face.

“Did you like my arrangement of it?”

“Like it?” Taehyung flops down onto the nearby sofa, and motions for you to join him, “Like it? I adored it.”

“I adore you,” you counter, abandoning the piano stool to find a comfier spot with Taehyung, perched above him, legs straddling his waist. Your hair falls down around your shoulders and, as you lean towards Taehyung, it cuts off the rest of the world, encasing the two of you in your own existence.

Taehyung’s hands reach up to cup your face, and when you close your eyes to his touch, he stretches up to kiss your eyelids. In parting his lips from your skin, he murmurs, “I never really understood the lyrics of that song until I met you.”

“What? ‘Just One Day’?”

He nods, bumping his nose against yours in the process. “I never understood the desperate need to be with someone, even if it was only for one day. But then I saw you, and suddenly it made sense. I got the feeling that even if I could only be with you for one day, one hour, even one second, that would be enough for me. It’s like my purpose is to be with you.”

You felt the sting of tears as they jumped up behind your lids, but you refused to let them fall. “I suppose it’s a good thing we have more than one day then.”

Originally posted by mayfifolle


Jungkook: Poised on your doorstep, Jungkook takes a deep breath and steps forward to knock.

And pauses.

The last time he saw you, you had been in floods of tears, both of you shouting things you didn’t mean. Now he’s outside, wanting to apologise, to go back to how it used to be. But he’s scared. He’s terrified. And he can’t bring himself to make a move.

That is until he hears the strains of a piano playing, wafting through an open window. Those chords are familiar – ‘Love is not over’. On recognising the song, he slowly breaks down – like a lump of sugar dissolving in coffee, one second he’s solid and the next he’s disappearing, forgetting himself and slipping over into tears. He can’t bear to be apart from you any longer, and judging by your playing, neither can you. Not caring how much of a mess his face is, puffy and red, striped with tear-tracks, he knocks. And after a few seconds you answer. Your face is a mirror of his, just as cracked, just as damp.

“I’m sorry…” is all you can say before he pulls you into a tight hug that squeezes all the air out of you, and he’s murmuring in your ear, “Me too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Just like that it’s okay again. With the two of you, things can never truly be finished – you can never truly be done with each other. Love will never be over, and so long as you’re breathing, you’ll be together.

Originally posted by jungkookfortunekookies


! I did not make the gifs !

anonymous asked:

Hello, for my one and only soul, could I get Dans 20th birthday where Phil waited to have The Full Sex™ with Dan because he didn't want to be that creep that bangs a teenager?

can you write a bit where phil’s always been rlly loving and soft and vanilla and dan says “harder” like 38291928 times and phil keeps being gentle af but then dan like looks up at phil and says “h a r d e r .” in like a “sex” voice and phil just fickin loses it and p o u n d s him into the mattress and also detailed orgasms thank you so much bby

Plus dirty talk. If you have problems getting past the cut on mobile, open in your phone browser.

There isn’t much competition when it comes to Dan’s top three best birthdays. Now, his top three worst, that’s another story – so many of them have been so downright awful it’s hard for him to choose. There was that time in Kindergarten when he’d had a barbeque at the local park and a freak storm had blown through, tearing down their gazebo and knocking his Winnie the Pooh cake to the ground. Or his ninth birthday, when his cousin sprayed him with Poundland silly string, which had given him a severe allergic reaction and he ended up spending the remainder of his party in A&E. And who can forget his twelfth, when he’d climbed onto the roof of his single-storey house on a dare and broke his wrist on the way down? The list goes on, but, physical injury and heartbreaking loss of desserts aside, nothing will ever rank higher than his sixteenth, which he’d spent crying into half a dozen share-sized packets of Doritos when none of his guests turned up.

So, yes, Dan’s got a plethora of bad birthdays to choose from, but good ones? Honestly, his top three is probably just his nineteenth listed three times. It was the first he’d spent with not only an actual best friend but also a boyfriend – and okay, technically they’re the same person, but give him a break. He’d never expected to have one of those, let alone find both wrapped up in the miracle that is Phil. Dan had gone to spend his birthday week up in Manchester with him, where Phil had taken him to dinner and a movie and, sure, it was cliché and cheesy as hell, but that’s exactly what Dan had wanted. They’d eaten overpriced meals and made out in the back of the cinema and drank on a rooftop bar and it was by far the best birthday Dan’s ever had. Today, however, that’s about to change. Today, Dan is going to have a new number one, because today his boyfriend is finally, finally going to fuck him.

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Dance Like We’re Making Love (NSFW 18+)


A/N:
I’m 100% blaming @minhosmeanhoe and @sarcasticallystilinski for this. Together, although unknowingly, the polluted my mind with dirty Dylan thoughts that forced me to write this in like an hour and a half. It’s sickeningly short, but it’s to the point. Also, I want to thank both of these lovely ladies for always being there to fill my mind with fantastic ideas. This did come about because of the new pics of Dylan that have recently surfaced. You can see them here. The song that goes along with this fic is “Dance Like We’re Making Love” by Ciara. Posting twice in one day is a rarity for me but I had to. i’ve also used this gif wayyyy too many times.

Warnings: SMUTTT; UNPROTECTED SEX; 

Word Count: 1554

Originally posted by hothothotgg

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I Finally Found You  (M) // Kim Taehyung, Werewolf!AU

Originally posted by myeong-su

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Smut, Fluff

Summary: You and Taehyung have been searching your whole lives for each other. Being Werewolves, you both dreamed of the day you would finally be able to meet your other half. And finally, fate brings you both colliding into each others worlds.

This scenario is rated M for MATURE as it contains smut, spanking, biting and all that good stuff

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All I Want - Jughead Jones

 Request: Hii! Could you maybe do one with Jughead where he thinks he’s not good enough for the reader so he starts distancing himself from them and they confront him and then just fluff please? Thnxxx love your writing 💕

Why thank you little cinnamon roll! Hope I did your request justice :)

Warnings: swearing

Jughead Jones x Reader

OH AND ALSO, I have nothing against Reggie. Personally I think there should be more imagines and stuff for him. CHUCK on the other hand, I hate with a fiery passion. He can spontaneously combust for all I care.

Cheers to @satanwithstardust for being trash and reading stuff as always cos she smells. Oh and @betty-coopers-number-one-stan for being my new friend because I’m alone ;c eheheh ENJOY

Words: 3,014 (longest one yet yayay)

“How long have you two been dating now?” Veronica queried, as you walked down Riverdale High’s empty corridors with her by your side. She was of course, referring to the ‘Sad Breakfast Clubs’ power couple, you and Jughead Jones. 

A light blush creeped onto your cheeks as you responded. “A few months now,” You tried to play it off casually, acting like you didn’t know it had been exactly 3 months and 17 days since he’d mustered the courage to ask you out on a date to Pop’s. Everything had escalated from there and you’d never felt happier. He was your best friend and the one you loved, and in your eyes, there was nothing better than falling in love with your best friend. 

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