i will crush you beneath me

How to leave a good impression

During a home-brew 5e modified Mines of Madness campaign we ran into a situation where my Blue Dragonborn rogue had been transformed into a Huge creature through a combination of a Ring of Permanent Enlarge Person/Reduce Person, and an unstable potion of Growth. The party, all level three consists of myself, the DM playing a Hexblade Tiefling, and my Wife playing a Tiefling Sorcerer.

I had already activated my ring and was currently classified as a Large Creature, we were fighting skeletal dwarves, there were 6 left.

Me: (OOC) “Fuck, if i take another axe im gonna be in trouble.

DM (OOC) “You are the biggest target in the room, and… Well you can try that potion you found…”

We found this potion in an outhouse on the surface, I’m carrying it but no one really wanted to drink it.

Me: I took a few axes to the chest and was fairly hurt* “I chug the unstable potion.”

DM: rolls a d100*

DM (OOC) Are you still using that ring?

Me, confused OOC “Yeah?”

DM shakes his head and buries his face in his palm, “You grow Bigger.”

Me really confused “But im at lar-”

DM cutting me off, “Nope nope, now your Huge.”

Me OOC “This room isnt big enough…”

Me: “I grow to large size and fill most of the room in the process, crushing two dwarves with my…Tits.”

Group is laughing their collective butts off when the DM screams a profanity and starts rolling dice.

Everyone is silent and then

DM “As the Rogue becomes big enough to crush us all, the floor beneath us crumbles…”

Everyone but me groans and starts rolling saving throws as i say “Well, thats the way the dungeon crumbles!”

By now you’ve probably realized that I’ve stepped outside of your door into a world where I don’t end up with you. And nothing was harder that having to drag my feet places they didn’t want to go. I never wanted to live and breathe in a world I didn’t get to share with you. And in the aftermath of everything we were, I woke to the realization that I could have never been meant for you. After all our hands never fit together the way I wanted them too. And you never cared enough to read my poems, not even the ones that were about you. At the end of it all, you kept your word in saying that you had not yet learned how to love anything. I should have believed you then. I should have left the morning after you decided my body should come without emotional baggage. And yet I did not. I let you touch me in all the ways you wanted. I became woman enough for you to touch and sunk back into myself on the days when you decided I was too hard to love. I tried to make myself smaller for you. I became less vocal, started to shift my weight towards that of a woman who gave everything to a man who didn’t deserve any of it. And I am sorry for how much I gave to you. I am sorry for the way your bones crushed beneath the weight of all the things I wished we’d become. I am sorry for loving you at a time where it was not what your hands were reaching for. I don’t blame you for it because you were honest from the beginning about all of the ache in your upbringing and I should have listened. I should have hushed the voice of that naive girl who wanted to fix all you broken. Most of all, I am sorry for not leaving sooner. For trying to mold you into someone ready to commit. For trying to make you want the same things out of this as I did because it turns out- we were never on the same page. Your hands were just looking for a place to rest upon, they were never looking for a love to hold on to.

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE A-FORCE?!

AN ALL-FEMALE AVENGERS TEAM.

ALL-FEMALE.

This isn’t some shitty, “Well they’re only filling a few issues until we get the normal Avengers back,” bullshit! Just like how Thor is a woman and Captain America is Black, the A-Force is officially one of the new Avengers team, the other being made up of a pretty diverse roster, too! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! THE MOST BADASS, KICK BUTT LADIES TO EVER GRACE THE UNWORTHY PAGES OF COMIC BOOKS ARE BEING PUT ON THEIR OWN TEAM.

YOU SEE THIS LADY RIGHT HERE? 

THAT’S SINGULARITY. GUESS WHAT? SHE’S NOT HUMAN, SHE’S A PIECE OF THE UNIVERSE THAT GAINED CONSCIOUSNESS AND IS GENDER-FLUID AS HELL, BUT SHE CHOOSES TO BE FEMALE. SHE HAS CONTROL OVER THE COSMOS AND IS JUST AN ALL-AROUND BAD BITCH.

I FUCKING DARE SOMEONE TO FUCK WITH ME ABOUT THIS, BECAUSE THIS IS ONE OF THE GREATEST MOMENTS IN COMIC BOOK HISTORY AND I WILL CRUSH DISSENTERS BENEATH MY HEELS.

The prompt was “an AU Sans caught doing something embarrassing but cute, with fluff.”  

For @ladyanatares 
… I don’t know why the tag isn’t working.  It’s past 4AM, and I’m probably doing something stupid, so I’m just going to queue this up for now and be like “oh hey, did you get the thing” when I wake up tomorrow.


UF!Sans x Reader:  Stuffed with Nightmares

You couldn’t sleep.  

It had been an issue with you ever since you fell Underground and entered a world without hope, where the creed really was ‘kill or be killed.’  You had been fortunate enough to manage to befriend two skeleton sentries–despite the fact that the Royal Guard Captain wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of letting a human SOUL remain in its vessel when they only needed a few more to supposedly break the barrier, but…

Sans had vouched for you.  He had actually stood up to his brother, getting over his nervous stammer to gain you Mercy.  

And once you had stomached Papyrus’s lasagna (which you were almost certain contained so much vinegar that even some glass shards from the bottle had managed to become incorporated within), you had been deemed ACCEPTABLE FOR A HUMAN and allowed refuge in their home.  

Of course, this meant sleeping on their couch…

Even after what had happened with Sans.

Wistfully, your gaze was drawn to the bedroom door, barely visible past the railing of the upstairs hallway.  You found yourself sitting up on the couch, your fingertips rising to brush against your lips, feather-light.  You could still feel the imprint of his teeth there, his phalanges on the back of your head, tilting it back while his magical tongue swept across your lower lip, demanding entrance.  

It had been a hell of a kiss, especially from a skeleton, but Papyrus had chosen that moment to barge in (literally kicking the door in; you had discovered over the last month or so that he had a weird fetish for kicking inanimate objects, as well as Sans’s ass) and ruin the moment.  The two of you had jumped away guiltily, flushing like teenagers caught making out by their parents.  Sans’s zygoma were flushed a vibrant crimson, his eyelights dilated and just as bright, and he hurriedly wiped saliva from his sharp teeth on the back of his sleeve.  

Papyrus had narrowed his eyesockets at the two of you, giving you a knowing glare.  Of course, he had grilled both of you for a confession, but Sans stammered some excuse, and ultimately, Papyrus decided he didn’t care enough to wring a truth he already knew out of you.  After that, Sans had laughed with a nervous timbre and squeezed your hand, claiming you both had dodged a bone attack there.  He was sweating as the two of you went back to watching MTT, and while he didn’t move closer, he also didn’t let go of your hand until he retired to his bedroom with a “welp, night sweetheart.”

That had been weeks ago, and ever since then, Sans had been quick to kiss you when his brother was away, though he was becoming more and more brazen, like holding hands beneath the dinner table with Papyrus seated directly across from you.  It felt both silly and exciting to hide your affection from the grumpy Guard Captain, and it was obvious he knew what was going on but chose to simply scowl at the two of you instead.  You had achieved relationship status–you’re crazy about the red-eyed skeleton–and yet you were still sleeping on the lumpy couch.  And he would still kiss you and murmur a “night sweetheart” before retreating upstairs.  

After he did that tonight, you hadn’t been able to sleep, but that wasn’t new.  You had been on-edge ever since the first monster in the Ruins tried to kill you (you could still feel that Froggit’s tongue lashed around your throat), and when you did sleep, it was uneasy and felt as if you were constantly being chased.

So… given your dynamic with Sans, maybe you could sleep in his bed tonight and let him chase away your bad dreams.  It would be nice to finally find a reprieve secure in his arms.  

You creep upstairs, careful to step over the creaky stair midway up the staircase, and head down the hall to Sans’s room.  There, you pause, your knuckles poised to knock.  

But… you don’t want to wake up Papyrus and have him irritably shout in your face and banish you back to the downstairs couch.  So, you throw caution to the wind and try to doorknob.  It’s unlocked, of course, and you quietly slip inside the bedroom, closing the door behind you.  It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once you spot the lump curled up in the middle of the mattress, you gingerly pick your way across the messy floor (geez, Sans was a slob; food wrappers crinkled lightly underfoot, and you’re fairly certain every garment he owns has been haphazardly discarded on his carpet) until your leg hits the edge of his mattress.

Two sudden red lights emerge from beneath the ball of blankets, and in the next moment, the bedside lamp temporarily blinds you as it’s switched on.  You blink away the sudden slew of spots in your vision and Sans jolts up in the bed.  "what’re you doin’ here, sweetheart?  tryin’ to give me a heart-attack?“

"You don’t even have a heart, and I taught you that phrase,” you point out, giving him a look.  "I just wanted to see if I could…“  You voice trails off as you gain a better view of his bed.  You’ve never been in his bedroom before, and now… you understand why.

Sans follows your gaze and freezes, as if he forgot it was even there in the first place.  "shit, uhh.. listen, it’s not what it looks like.”

You’re suddenly grinning ear-to-ear.  You had thought Sans was such a gruff monster, someone who had probably dusted plenty of monsters over the years–someone tough, fierce, and quite crude.  

But you never expected to see this side of him.

“It looks like you sleep… with a mountain of stuffed animals!” you blurt, unable to keep the unabashed amusement from your voice.  Still grinning like an idiot, you sit on the edge of his bed while he blushes a vibrant crimson (even brighter than the time his brother caught you making out on the couch) and tries to articulate a rebuttal, but… he’s just too mortified.  

You pick up a fluffy brown bear, missing a button eye and appearing both worn and well-loved.  A sudden realization dawns as you watch him attempt to stretch the blankets over his collection.  "Is this why you never offered to let me sleep up here with you?“

"yeah, ok?” he snaps, irritated and unable to look you in the eye.  "i didn’t want you to see. ’s embarrasin’.“  His growl of a voice is low, his chin dipping down beneath the cherry red collar secured around his neck.  "i kept meanin’ to stash 'em away in my closet, but… they… help me sleep.”

He looks so miserable in that moment that you reach out and hug him, crushing the stuffed bear between the two of you.  "There’s nothing wrong with that.  I used to sleep with them, too, before…“  Before you fell.  You shake your head to dispel the thought.  "If anything, I find it cute.”  You draw back while he scoffs, his hands balling into the bear as if he wants to rip its stuffing out.  Your hand covers his, and your smile shifts from teasing to gentle.  "I didn’t know you had such a soft spot, Sans.  And I like that there’s more to you.“

He snorts.  From the smirk that crosses his face, you can tell he has a good come-back in mind, but he doesn’t ruin the moment by utilizing it.  Instead, he draws you into both his arms and his bed and clicks off the lamp.  "there’s nothin’ soft about me, sweetheart, but… maybe you can be my stuffed animal from now on.”  His arms wind around you, drawing you against him, while you can feel the mountain of stuffed animals pressing into your back.  It’s comforting, being surrounded by both.  

“I’ll help you sleep if you help me sleep,” you murmur, your fingers tightening in his sweater.  He grins, clicking his teeth against your forehead.

“ok, sounds fair.  'night sweetheart.”

“G'night.”

And this time, when you fall asleep, neither of you has nightmares.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Jemma and AIDA/Madame Hydra confrontation. "Please let him go".

Wow, you guys don’t send me the fluffy prompts, do you?? But here you go! Excuse the hand-waving over how everyone gets out of the framework; I don’t do plot, y’all. **there’s no Fitz/AIDA kiss in this guys!!**

———–

For the first time since she’s arrived in this nightmare, hellscape of a world, Jemma truly feels out of options. Her only real hope is that Daisy has managed to get the others out and Yoyo and the rest of SHIELD’s available agents have gotten the message and are waiting on the other side.

But Jemma had refused to leave without Fitz, and now AIDA has ensured there would be no leaving for her at all.

“Please,” she hears herself beg. Her body isn’t technically real, just bits of programming, but she can feel the unbearable weight of her bones and the shattering of her heart all the same. After all she’s done to survive and reach this point, she is not above begging. “AIDA—”

AIDA’s head snaps towards her in a livid glare, and for the first time Jemma wonders if maybe this version of the LMD actually does have human emotions. How can something artificial look so angry and bitter? How can blood rush to fill her cheeks with color? How do her eyes glint with such steel?

“How dare you call me that? Do not ever call me that again,” she sneers and Jemma blinks rapidly in confusion.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she offers. She feels sluggish, her mind worn down to the point of breaking. “What should I call you?”

AIDA—for Jemma can’t help thinking of her as AIDA, even if she doesn’t say it again—arches an eyebrow, once again in control. “Madame Hydra, out of respect.” She pauses and smiles and Jemma flinches because she knows everything AIDA does is calculated. She would not smile unless she meant to wound. “My name is Ophelia, but only Leopold is allowed to call me that.”

Ophelia, Jemma thinks, and can’t stop herself from imagining how the name must sound with Fitz’s tongue curled carefully around it.

“Madame Hydra,” Jemma finally continues when she has shoved this minor heartbreak down with all the others, “please. Please let him go.”

AIDA walks closer until she’s right in front of Jemma and runs a finger along her bruised cheek. Jemma looks up at her without breathing and remembers when she’d first seen her, it, how fascinated she’d been. How upset at Fitz for keeping the secret. She wonders now if he knows how completely she’d forgiven him, how wholly she will forgive him anything.

“Certainly,” AIDA murmurs, turning sharply and pressing a button on her desk.

Fitz enters a moment later, still in his designer suit, still walking like a stranger and not like the man she’d allowed to entwine his soul with hers.

“Madame,” he says with a deferential nod. His eyes rake over Jemma on the way to AIDA, and she’s crazy, she knows she’s being crazy but there is something there. After their eyes met on Radcliffe’s island amidst a storm of bullets, she had never been allowed near him again. Daisy’s theory was that AIDA feared their connection.

But if that truly was AIDA’s greatest fear, why allow this meeting now? Perhaps she’s finally secure enough in her victory, and if that’s the case Jemma’s wishful thinking is about to get her killed.

“Leopold,” AIDA practically purrs, and he steps closer to both of them. God, he’s so near. She could touch him, she could throw herself into his arms. She could beg.

She does nothing.

Keep reading

Black and Gold 

 Part One Warnings - swearing, mentions of violence, depression and anxiety.    _______

It was like a pounding, almost like a drum bouncing against my skull, crushing it down onto my brain mercilessly. It was dark, specks of white throbbed in the corner of it but it didn’t make out a shape or sound, it just flickered in the same place.

There was a firm grip on my arms, and I felt deathly cold, frozen almost. My body was being dragged along the floor, being held up at my arms whilst my legs were pulled along behind. My heart was dull, the beating quickened with each breath of air I allowed into my lungs, slowly pulling me back to life.

Then, like a wave, it hit me. The kidnap, experimentation and torture, every memory pushed to the front of my mind and I felt myself snap like a twig underneath a boot, easily and with little control. My eyes groaned open into slits, silently wincing at the bright lights of the corridor, feeling tingled in the tips of my fingers like pins being stabbed into a cushion. My heart rate throbbed in my chest, threatening to break out as my narrowed golden orbs took in my surroundings as my ears focused back into reality.

Alarms were going off everywhere, soldiers rushing around with guns in their hands and violent words leaving their mouths as they stared at me with wide eyes as my carriers pulled me through a set of swinging doors. My body showed no sign of life other than my twitching fingers and my tanned complexion returning to my skin once more.

I suddenly felt wide awake, the blood pumping through my veins telling me one thing like a devil on my shoulder. I listening to the voice with a smirk playing on my lips, letting the room go silent before swinging my weight to propel me into the air before landing behind my carriers who froze in their places, their hands slowly sketching toward their pistols. Before they could grab their weapons they fell to the floor as I pulled their hearts from their bodies, the organs falling into my palms making them red with the colour of death.

The corridor was empty for only a moment before a whole squadron of men fled into the narrow path, their guns poised and ready to fire if necessary. They never got the chance, my mind ripped the weapons from their grasps and made them point at their previous owners before opening fire, the walls painted with blood, lifeless bodies scattered across the ground.

A slow and lonely applause echoed through the hallway, then he appeared at the end with a sickly smile and haunting gaze which had the ability to make me shrink into nothing, “Wolf, oh my little Golden Wolf,” he mocked as he approached me, the lights flickering overhead with each step he took. I didn’t dare to move as he circled me like a predator, the man who took everything from me stood before me with a look in his eye which could bury anyone six feet under. My captor darted forward and took my face in his hand, forcing our eyes to connect as he searched them, extracting every little secret in my body like a game, “We are under attack, you’re abilities are about to be tested, Little One,” his grip was hard, and cold, the throbbing of my skin indicated I would have some form of bruising there later.

“Yes Sir,” it came out as a mere whisper and he scoffed before snatching my arm and leading me to a room at the opposite end of the hallway, pushing me inside and turning the lights on.

The blinking lights illuminated a suit made from black leather with gold stitching, it had a high neck and looked extremely tight. Next to the suit sat heeled combat boots and a pair of fingerless gloves made from leather, again with gold patterns on the material, “Get changed,” he ordered and I did as I was asked, peeling myself from my other clothes and throwing myself into the unwelcoming suit which glued to my skin. My master came up from behind me in my reflection, covering my mouth with some kind of guard which started at my chin and ended just below my eyes, it was also black, “Now go.”

Without another word I headed through the facility, soldiers of the cause split like the red sea as I passed, they whispered to one another about it being my first time fighting outside of training. Black doors entered my vision as I rounded the corner, explosions and gunfire piercing through the walls, pounding them like drums. My eyes morphed into a darker shade of gold as my outstretched palms slammed the doors wide open to reveal a battlefield littered with bodies and craters in the soil, smoke rose above the tree line and coated the sky in black. My feet carried me out of the facility, men dressed in their uniforms fell behind me in shock as my dark waves fell down and framed my face.

A screaming battlefield turned deadly silent, everything seemed to stop moving, to stop breathing. A group of people I didn’t recognise paced into a clearing and stared me down, one of them in particular wore the red star on his metal arm, the star of my captors. My eyebrows dipped in confusion but I shook it off as quickly as it came as I continued to pace toward them, fire lingering behind my dark gold orbs. Once they realised that I wasn’t stopping, a woman wearing a red trench coat stepped forward with some kind of red energy pulsing between her palms in a warning. The woman threw her energy at me but stood in horror when it didn’t effect me, instead she brewed another batch of her red mass and turned to her comrades, “I can’t stop it,” she cried in her thick accent as my eyes zoned into her body, my mind penetrating her own like darts on a board.

The woman stood stuck in place, shaking uncontrollably as she fought to take back her body from my grasp. From the corner of my eye, a metal figure flew overhead, shooting his blasters at me but failing when the ricocheted off of me and back into his direction, sending him tumbling to the ground. My lips wore a smirk, not that they could see it.

A body moved behind me, it was large and menacing but I turned and grabbed its green fist in my palm before it was able to strike me. It looked confused but angry, my free hand touched its forehead and it fell to a lump on the forest floor. With a sigh I turned to face my foes again, the man with the metal arm had moved closer to me, examining me, “Why are you helping them?”

His friend was surprised at my words, how I was english and proudly so, the man with black hair frowned, “What?” His eyes followed my pointing finger to the star on his arm, “I used to belong to HYDRA, I managed to break free,” his words struck something within me, something which made my control on the witch drop.

I took a step forward, “Break free, how?” I asked him, my voice muffled by the covering over my mouth.

“Get out of there, Wolf, come back now-” with a growl I ripped the earpiece out of my ear, crushing it beneath my heeled boot.

The man with the red star sent me a look, wide eyes, “They didn’t wipe you?”

A chuckle left my lips, “Many times since they caught me,” I paused, “What year is it?”

There was a shield latched onto his friend’s arm, he slotted it onto his back, “It’s 2017,” a shallow breath passed between my lips, “When did they take you? Why didn’t their tactics work on you like they did with my friend?”

I blinked hard and my mouth felt oddly dry, “It was 1945, the day the war ended,” I paused, looking around, “They pumped that much shit into me that it made it impossible for them to wipe me, everything would come back, I wouldn’t comply, they tortured me to get me to fear them,” the birds sang in the trees and a soft smile found my lips.

Then, total darkness.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Meme

Season four edition

  • “It’s nice that you’re excited.”
  • “Oh no, I forgot to pick mine up, the line’s probably really long now too.”
  • “Oh, I’m not really into porn… I mean, I’m just trying to cut way back.”
  • “Nobody really bothered me, or even spoke to me, until one night, when one of the male strippers called in sick, and no power on this earth will make me tell you the rest of that story.”
  • “And you thought your days of sneaking out of your room were over.”
  • “On the plus side you’ve killed the bench, which was looking shifty.”
  • “I can’t stop thinking about you. Sometimes, in my dreams, you’re all naked.”
  • “I like you. You’re funny and you’re nicely shaped.”
  • “And you just accepted that? I only said that because I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.”
  • “I am the Dark Lord of Nightmares! The Bringer of Terror! Tremble before me! Fear me!”
  • “Nothing can defeat the penis!”
  • “I was under the impression that I was your big comfy blankie.”
  • “How come you didn’t tell me I look like a crazy birthday cake in this shirt?”
  • “My whole life, I’ve never loved anything else.”
  • “You’re being too hard on yourself. Why don’t we wait a half an hour and try again?”
  • “To commemorate a past event, you kill and eat an animal. It’s a ritual sacrifice… with pie.”
  • “That’s one fun little hobby you’ve got there.”
  • “I know it’s nuts, but part of me believes that real love and passion have to go hand in hand with pain and fighting.”
  • “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who wanted Wind Beneath My Wings for the first dance.”
  • “This isn’t a relationship! You don’t need me. All you care about is lots of orgasms.”
  • “Yeah, delivering melted cheese on bread. Doing your part to keep America constipated.”
  • “And you’re what? Shocked and disappointed? I’m evil!”
  • “Everyone’s getting spanked but me.”
  • “Make out with me.”
  • “That probably would’ve sounded more commanding if I wasn’t wearing my yummy sushi pajamas.”
  • “Don’t speak Latin in front of the books.”
  • “Now I remember why I used to have such a crush on him.”
  • “I’m just saying it’s a little strange to date someone who tries to eat you once a month!”
  • “No matter what, somebody’s going to get hurt. And the important thing is, you just have to be honest or it’s going to be a lot worse.”
  • “I feel horrible about everything I put you through. A-and I’m gonna make it up to you. Starting right now.”
  • “Great plan. That’s right up there with duck and cover.”
  • “Sometimes I think about two women doing a spell, and…then I do a spell by myself.”
|| Sketched Love ||

[[request prompt: I loved “Our Love Story” And was wondering if you could write something similar with a Peter Parker x reader where they go to school together and the reader is and artist, and she is always drawing sketches of him during class and stuff? Thanks :)]]

time to work on requests ೕ(•̀ᴗ•́) this time I’m all about writing for my main boi, peter parker

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53, , @nekonerdxox , @pepcvina , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry

warnings: none, just pure fluff that comes with experiencing love for the first time ♡

**please don’t repost/plagiarize this story. Reblogs are fine**

——

Keep reading

After all this time, after you and I are no longer us other than in the moments of memory we share, I am ready to move forward,
I want the first date nervous jitters again,
I want that clammy feeling that doesn’t just cover my skin in goosebumps but it envelopes my insides and wraps itself around me as if it were a piece of clothing I wasn’t quite confident in wearing yet, but I want to
I want to wear the clothing that comes with the pawn of excitement you get when you meet up with somebody you have a crush on, or somebody you could have a crush on,
I want to feel the butterflies fluttering their wings as they drift around beneath my rib cage 

I am ready to move on,
There may not be an us anymore, but I want something real again,
I want something to work for and to work at again,

Our memories are often a safe haven for us,
A place we can lose ourselves in the detours of moments we shared in experience rather than following the roads outlined on a map,
You will always have a home there in those moments, and for that I am thankful,
For now though, I want something
Something new,
A chance to wrap myself in the chill of the wind as I learn new information about somebody,
I want to make new memories,
A new safe haven
That doesn’t make this a goodbye for us, it makes it a see you soon
So I’ll see you when I look back.

—  ARH // I’ll See You Soon, Old Friend
Quotes for the signs
  • Aries : "You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature."
  • Taurus : "I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."
  • Gemini : "You are damaged and broken and unhinged. But so are shooting stars and comets."
  • Cancer : "And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in."
  • Leo : "I am destroying myself so other people can’t and it’s the worst kind of control but it’s the only form I know."
  • Virgo : "I exist too much, I feel too much, think too much. Reality is crushing the life out of me."
  • Libra : “You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it.”
  • Scorpio : “The monsters were never under my bed. Because the monsters were inside my head.”
  • Sagittarius : "She had a passionate longing for the garden, the darkness, the pure sky, the stars."
  • Capricorn : "I’m a sad collection of maybes and almost."
  • Aquarius : "I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not."
  • Pisces : "She liked to disappear, even when she was in the same room as other people. It was a talent, as it was a curse."
From This Far Away

|| a zimbits fic || hurt + comfort || ~2k ||

Bitty sobs in the kitchen. Messy sobs that tear out of his throat and involve his whole body in shakes and twitches. He presses his face hard into his arm to try and muffle the noise.

He needs to stop and go back to bed and to Jack, but it’s so hard when he has dreams about distance and lost time and a million complications. Dreams where he breaks apart; little flakes of confetti scattering down the sidewalk.

The kitchen light flicks on and Bitty cracks his head up, surprised. He squints against the sudden light.

Jack is silhouetted in the doorway. Seeing him brings back all Bitty’s horrible nightmares and daydreams, and the thoughts he tries his best to chase away but that are engraved right up under his ribcage and in the muscles of his hands that shake when he touches Jack’s face sometimes.

Bitty looks away from Jack and curls his legs up toward his body, hunching himself into a ball. He cries into his knees and gasps and apologises to Jack over and over for waking him.

Jack doesn’t say anything. He joins Bitty on the kitchen floor, sitting beside him with creaking knees, and wrapping his arms around Bitty to bring his torso around the curve of Bitty’s bent back.

Bitty feels Jack’s love with him in the room, and it doesn’t stop him from crying. Because love, that’s what the problem is, the big root of all his damn problems. It’s why he’s crying and why he hates crying. Because he loves Jack. So, so, so damn much.

Jack strokes his hair, the shell of his ear, his shoulder. He shushes, and rocks, and is there, dependable and warm.

“I can’t do this, Jack,” Bitty gasps out, shaking his head back and forth, back and forth against Jack’s chest.

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The Same Boy || Peter Parker x Reader

{summary: Being best friends with Ned was both a blessing and a curse: you got to see your crush, Peter, on a near daily basis, yet he doesn’t seem to like you that much, always remaining tight lipped and quiet whenever you were around.

Lucky for you, you can always count on Spider-Man to be there for you when you want to vent to him about your hopeless crush! But lately, it seems like your feelings are being split between Peter Parker and Spider-Man as you find yourself falling for both boys….}

warnings: none

**don’t plagiarize/repost this story; reblogs are fine!**

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Goodbye

Characters: Jungkook X You
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 5017
Song of the Day: BTS - Spring Day

A/N: Inspired by the lyrics of BTS’s Spring Day; in memories of lost love - Admin Ham

Originally posted by geeky-obsessions


“Kookie! Kookie! Kook-ah! Look, look! He replied to me!” You dashed through the entrance of the local bistro, ignoring the staff’s greetings and straight away landed yourself on a chair sitting opposite of your best friend, shoving your phone to his face as he pulled his head up from lurking over the menu at your hyper arrival.

“Oh god, I can’t read shit if you keep jacking it up and down like that..” Jungkook whined as he swiftly grabbed hold of the phone, pulling it away from your excited grasp as he leaned back towards his seat, calmly reading whatever content you had so eagerly wanted him to see.


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2

Requested, thank you

“It was nice for the Denali’s to let us come up here for the weekend” you smiled at Emmett as you walked out of the house, feet crushing the snow beneath you. “Well when you said you never played lake hockey, I had to get you up here” Emmett smiled as he held the hockey items. It didn’t take long for you to reach the lake and get set up, after a while of Emmett showing you the basics you began to play a little. “You sure you’ve never done this before?” Emmett smirked, brows furrowed. “Yeah, why?” you laughed, quickly swinging your hockey stick at the puck. “Because you’re beating me right now” Emmett chuckled, as he totally missed the puck like he’d done so many times before.

anonymous asked:

Hi, Can you please write something about Claire comforting Jamie and maybe talking to him when he is asleep a bit like he talks to her in the books. Thank you!

Hi Anon, Thank you for your message! I hope this is the sort of thing you had in mind. xxx

Claire watched Jamie from beneath her lowered lashes, she did not want him to know she was awake when he had clearly tried so very hard not to wake her.

The fire was drifting to embers but a faint red glow still emitted from the hearth, enough to make out the lines of his body against the soft blue velvet of the bouji chair. He was naked and Claire could see the red hairs that usually lay flay against the slope of his thigh standing rigid. The room was reasonably warm, as was to be expected for late May and Claire felt her pulse quicken as she realised that he must be afraid.

“Dinna fash Sassenach, I’ll be well soon.”

His voice was a soft rumble in the silence of the near darkness, giving her the option to continue to feign sleep should she wish to.

Claire pushed herself up onto her elbows and thumbed a tumble of hair back from her face

“What’s the matter?”

“Just a feeling, lass. Nothing more.”

One of the pine logs in the fire cracked and a few small sparks shot upwards. Claire wrapped her arms around her knees and waited for him to speak again.

When Jamie remained silent she slowly pushed the blankets back from her lap and got out of bed crossing the room, her bare feet soft against the hardwood flooring.

“Dinna touch me, please.”

She had been reaching out to him but her hand stopped in mid-air and hovered uncertainly.

“Jamie, please tell me what’s wrong. Was it a dream?”

His face was turned away from her as Claire studied his profile intently, looking for any clue as to what it could be that had driven him from their bed. His cheeks were dry and his eyes, fiercely locked on the burning wood and tendrils of smoke rising from it, were clear and alert.

“No not a dream … I …”

He turned to her then and a small smile, devoid of humour, curved his lips

“I woke up and didna ken where I was. I didna ken this room, nor these hands,”

He held his hands up before his face in illustration and Claire gently reached out and grasped his fingers within her own.

“I didna ken who I was, mo nighean donn.”

He shifted his gaze to her, blue eyes wide and troubled with a confusion that he could not name.

“I kent who ye were, but no’ your name and I didna trust myself no’ to crush you to me if I stayed beside ye, so I lay down on the floor and counted the wood grains I could feel beneath my fingers until I came back to myself.”

Claire gently sank to her knees and placed her free hand delicately on his leg, rubbing the long shin softly before making her way around to the sculpted muscle of his calf.

“That sounds like a very acute anxiety attack.”

She said and Jamie snorted

“I thought they were the ones where it feels like I have run until I canna breath and my heart is about to burst in my chest.”

“They come in different types.”

Claire explained gently and Jamie nodded.

“This one wasna so bad as the other type, I wasna frightened, only a bit dazed.”

“That’s something.”

Claire offered him a small smile and he squeezed her fingers gently.

“Aye it is.”

“Come to bed, Jamie.”

Claire stood and slowly urged her husband to his feet. She pulled back the blankets and waited for him to settle onto his back before carefully tucking them up around him, being sure not to pull them too tightly. Settling herself in beside him, she held out her arm and smiled

“Come lay your head, man.”

For a moment she thought he would refuse, but slowly, like a cat uncurling from sleep, he rolled towards her and placed his cheek against her breast with a contented sigh.

“Bree used to lie like this, you know. When she was little and not feeling well or just having trouble sleeping.”

“I can see why. Ye are a great comfort Sassenach, it is like knowing that I am in a completely safe place and that no one can find me unless I choose to be found.”

Claire had not expected him to explain it as such and found that she had nothing to say in response. The thought of Jamie feeling exposed and vulnerable made her heart ache with sorrow but if she was able to offer some small glimmer of comfort in the confines of their bed, then that was something. Claire smoothed his hair back and shrugged, twining her legs with his beneath the covers and stroking her hand down the welted scars of his back with a rhythmic movement. Up and down, Up and down …

“Scooch down, Sassenach. Let me hold ye so.”

Jamie murmured beginning to pull away but Claire’s arms only tightened around his shoulders.

“Stay right where you are. I like holding you.”

She scolded and Jamie grinned, she felt his cheek curve upwards against her chest and kissed the crown of his head.

“Aye, but I like holding ye too and if I fall asleep like this, I’ll give ye a numb arm.”

“It’s only my left arm and I have you to guard my left side anyway.”

She joked but Jamie’s arms tightened around her protectively

“I protect all of ye, mo Sorcha. For you are my home, my heart and the carriage of my very soul.”

His voice was thick with sleep but sure and clear all the same

“I am better off lost, if I do not have you Claire.”


Claire remained awake, stroking his back, and gently smoothing his hair for some time after Jamie’s breathing had quietened to the sound rhythmic snores of a deep slumber. On impulse, she touched the corner of his mouth and instantly felt him smile against her, that sweet little smile that she did not need light to see for she knew it as surely as she knew the colour of his eyes and the touch of his hand.


“I protect all of you too, you know.”

She whispered

“And I will continue to do so with my very life, James Fraser, until my time is done and,”
She paused, swallowing
”I will never leave you again. Wither thou goest, I too shall go. I promise.”

Originally posted by moan-s

|| American Dreams ||

{summary: “you’ll always be my american dream.”}

american dreams by cartel is a+++++

dedicated to @siqnificances

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53 , @ghostedwolf , @tmrhollandkay , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry

warnings: none

**please don’t plagiarize/repost this story. reblogs are fine.**

——

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Star Trek: DS9 Notes - S6, Vol. 5

Hello hello Tarra Treks is BACK! Read ‘em and weep, I sure did by the end.

6x20 ‘His Way’
- Netflix: “Bashir shows off his new holosuite character, a 1960s Las Vegas singer who performs in a lounge full of martini-swilling customers.”
  me out loud: “Why are you like this.”
- what is this boozy Mad Men fantasy
- it’s actually SO STRANGE to see them all in here in their uniforms!
- “pretty sweet pipes for a lightbulb” oh I like this, I like that he knows?? weird, weird and fun!

Julian is criminally pleased with himself and his preternaturally astute holographic lounge singer

- wait are Kira and Shakaar an on-again-off-again? since when?
- Julian: “He knows about love, life, women!”
  Miles: “Three things you know nothing about.”
  Julian: “Now that’s a little unfair.”
  hey if you knew about life you wouldn’t have walked right into that one
- hold up, I just realized I’m watching Quark give Odo relationship advice. QUARK AND ODO. TALKING ABOUT ♡
- Odo: “Who asked for your opinion?”
  Quark: “You did. I came here to talk about a missing shipment of groat clusters.”
- please tell me what is in a Warp Core Breach
- I SAID THAT AND THEN QUARK PULLED OUT A LITERAL FISHBOWL

this is incredible

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Homeless

Summary: You’re seriously injured saving Gabriel from the worst fate an angel could experience, but what will yours turn out to be?  

Pairings: GabrielxReader, Destiel (side pairing)

Tags: angst, soulmates

Word Count: 5729

Author’s Note: This was written for March’s @gabriel-monthly-challenge statement prompt:

From underneath the thin layer of snow, the first bloom of springtime emerged.  He resisted the temptation to crush it beneath his heel.

This piece did not get run through my beta.  Apologies for any  mistakes that slipped through.  

@wayward-mirage - I was that anon awhile back that said I would die if you ever read and liked any of my work but I was too shy to tag you and you encouraged me to just go ahead and do it so… tag!

Also, some folks are tagged because they’ve advertised through their fic recs etc. they’re open to it.  Just let me know if you prefer to be removed from my list.

GMC tags:  @lacqueluster   @archangel-with-a-shotgun  @ashiewesker  @revwinchester  

Gabe tags:  @girl-next-door-writes, @theblackenedsky

Other tags:  @notnaturalanahi, @wildfirewinchester


Having one’s wings detached was supposedly the second worst pain an angel could experience.  It went beyond just a physical sensation to one that tore through their very being.  The worst?  Existing without them.  

Being wingless stripped them of everything that made them divine, leaving them disconnected.  They were no longer part of Heaven but neither did they belong on earth and they would be destined to remain caught between both worlds for eternity.  

Thanks to you, Gabriel was not currently experiencing that fate.  Yours, on the other hand, currently hung in the balance.

From underneath the thin layer of snow, the first bloom of springtime emerged.  He resisted the temptation to crush it beneath his heel.  He was Heaven’s mightiest weapon.  His power was absolute. His strength rivaled by few things in existence.  He could snap entire civilizations out of existence and had, on a few occasions.  He could storm the gates of Hell on his own and make quite the dent in its army before something figured out a way to take him down.  He could hold the entire Eastern seaboard in its own time loop for weeks if he wanted.  

Savine one human?  Suddenly beyond his control.

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Fortune Favors the Bold

When the gladiators revolt, James spares but one life.


author: buckysbackpackbuckle
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 2473
warnings: gladiator au, violence, smut
author’s note: Let me know if you like this. If you do, I may write some more to go along with it. A prequel, perhaps? – And also, a lot of this plot is taken from the TV series Spartacus. Awesome show. You should watch it!

x amazing picture by @264jana x

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Friends With Benefits - Chapter 2

Featuring: Eisuke Ichinomiya / Hibiki Shiina + more to come.
Rating: M - just to be safe. Not NSFW yet.

You can read chapter 1 here.

“So Megami, tell me – how are we going to do this? Just get it over with perhaps and save you a walk of shame in the morning? Did you want to do it against a wall in the kitchen or perhaps right here on the sofa? Would you rather be on or off of your feet?”

If there was any colour at all left in my face, even with the subtle aid of makeup, it had now been drained out completely; leaving me what I could only describe with a split second side glance into the oversized window of the penthouse – as pale as a ghost, by the time Eisuke’s questions that I wasn’t at all expecting had finished firing off. Choking on the sip of unnecessarily overpriced champagne I’d taken at what couldn’t have been a worse time, I leant forward off the sofa, placing gently down the crystal flute onto the coffee table in front of me and grabbed at the tv remote to turn down the volume. The last thing I needed, no – we needed, amongst serious talk was canned laughter from a bad 90’s romcom series rerun filling the living room rather uncomfortably.

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