j; vis

Et si tu savais le nombre de textes que je t'ai écris, le nombre de phrase qui te sont destinés, le nombre de larmes que j'ai versé, le nombre de coup que j'ai donné, le nombre de cri que j'ai poussé, le nombre de vies que j'ai détruit.
Don’t Need Anything Else

Tony grimaced, burrowing his head under the covers, ducking away from the bright light coming in the windows.  “J’vis, lights twenty percent,” he mumbled, his eyes still clamped shut.  Nothing happened, and that’s what brought him awake – Jarvis never, ever failed to respond, not unless he’d been compromised.

He sat up quickly.  “Jarvis?!” he called out in alarm, on the verge of panicking.  His breath quickened, and he struggled to untangle himself from the covers that seemed to be deliberately trying to pin him in place.  With a hard shove, he was out…and face first on the floor.  “Ow,” he muttered, rolling himself over onto his back.  When no attack was immediately forthcoming, Tony froze, listening, but it was quiet all around him.  In fact, it was way too quiet.

Keep reading

IN YOUR EYES ( I SEE THE DAWN) | a fanmix for sigrid & tauriel, years past botfa; inspired by this post by notbecauseofvictories — 8tracks / playmoss

i. wasteland — woodkid | ii. like the dawn — the oh hellos | iii. pressing flowers — the civil wars | iv. wonder — lauren aquilina | v. choice kingdom — alt-j | vi. afire love ed sheeran | vii. i found a way — first aid kid | viii. yours and mine — brooke annibale | ix. indestructible (acoustic version)  — robyn

il est arrivé que je prenne le train par jalousie
il est arrivé que je me noie dans l'alcool et la fantaisie
il est arrivé tant de choses j'ai eu plusieurs vies
mon manteau d'obscurité est le plus beau des délits
je suis ta chance et ta gaité je suis l'ange des nuits magiques
je suis l'antre et l'eau clair de l'expérience
notre avenir trouve le fruit dans les espaces de nos silences
entre l'ivresse et la transe je parle à l'envers
ma langue dans ta bouche est arborescence

anonymous asked:

6. hobi please <3

6. “You should definitely wear my hoodie more often…”

The dull illumination of your phone screen lit up the small area around you as you laid in your bed on top of all your blankets, it had been a lazy night with Hoseok gone at practice so you decided to ramble around the house in just his hoodie. First lazing around on the couch watching a couple episodes of your show, then snacking on something in the kitchen while jamming out to some music, and now you laid on your bed just scrolling through your feeds on your phone with some headphones in. You laid there quietly humming to yourself, occasionally singing aloud, therefore completely unaware of your boyfriend who had just walked through the front door just mere moments ago. Still unaware as he pushed through your bedroom door after calling out your name a few times, but god bless your headphones because the sight he saw as he entered was something he could appreciate for days.

Your bare legs gently sprawled along the plush comforter as his hoodie rode up just enough to reveal the more delicious hint of your boyfriend shorts, your ass peaking out just enough to tease, and Hoseok couldn’t resist biting his lip as he snuck up behind you. Pulling out his phone, your boyfriend took a couple pictures for his own benefit before setting it down and crawling up behind you, fingers ghosting over your calf. The squeak that escaped your lips caused him to laugh, lifting his head to watch you throw out your headphones in a panic before sighing in relief, “Jesus, Hobi, don’t scare me like that” you heaved before letting your head fall forward onto the blanket. “Well I’m sorry, but you’ve got this presented so perfectly for me, I couldn’t resist” he smirked as he leaned down to trail his lips up the back of your thigh. A soft sound of approval fell from your lips at the contact and Hoseok moved up further, hands pushing up his hoodie to reveal the small of your back and your entire ass for him, and he audibly groaned. Slender fingers slid up and groped at your butt, your boyfriend smirking before he dipped both hands beneath your underwear and leaned down to bite playfully at the supple flesh, he smirked before pulling your underwear down and around your knees. “Up” he growled out as an order as he guided his hands around your hips to help you up onto your knees, presenting your ass perfectly for him, and you knew it as you wiggled slowly, a whine emitting from your chest.

“And I was just thinking about how hungry I was on my way home…” he mused before leaning forward and delving his tongue up your folds, coaxing the most delicious sound from your throat that muffled by the blankets. “Fuck, you taste so good, Kitten” he groaned as he steadied you with each hand on the side of your ass and holding you as he slipped his tongue into you before sliding down and circling your clit. Soon he had you writhing around his tongue and fingers, watching the way your ass bounced as you pushed back onto him knuckle deep and begged for more. “I’ll let you ride Daddy’s cock as long as you keep that on…

you should definitely wear my hoodie more often”

~Admin Vis

❪ “Fuck you!” ❫ ° ◢  @tw00blu3y3s

【 ✰ ˚ ✦ ⋆ ———— ❞ socarrón soltó una risilla al escuchar esas palabras ser soltadas sin pena a su persona, el moreno se quedó quieto unos segundos, queriendo leer bien el rostro de su contrarie. esperando el ver si realmente el enojo había tomado control. ❝ era solo una broma, sabes que no hablaba en serio. ❞ sentenció con cinismo, para luego rodar sus ocelos en descaro.

captainjackslog-deactivated2016  asked:

What do you think are the most likely ways that R+L=J could be revealed in the text?

Hiya! I’m on board with the theory that Benjen knew about and even helped arrange the Rhaegar-Lyanna liaison, and took the black afterwards out of intense guilt and grief. My reasoning is that in the wake of House Stark facing near-destruction, it was dynastically dangerous for Benjen to join the NW. Ned and baby Robb desperately needed some spare heirs! The only way I can see both Ned and Ben taking that risk is if it had to do with Lyanna; the trauma overwhelmed their rationality (which, after all, happens during Ned’s Handship as well). 

As such, I think Benjen will break the news to Jon when they reunite at Hardhome late in TWOW. But what about Howland Reed, ya might ask? My problem with him being the one who tells Jon the truth is that unlike with Jon and Benjen, they have no prior relationship at all, which I think would make it feel forced and blunt the impact. The Lord of the Neck does, however, know something else that could be important to Jon: the location of his birthplace. 

I’ve argued before that R+L=J is going to devastate Jon, not empower him. That he’s not Ned’s son, that Ned lied to him about it all his life, that his mother died a scared teenager bringing him into the world, that his biological father conceived of him as a vessel for prophecy…I think Jon’s overwhelming pain and anger at this revelation is going to lead him to (temporarily) refuse to fulfill Rhaegar’s prophetic ambitions for him, refuse to be the hero, refuse to save the world. 

Indeed, I think the first half of ADOS will find all three heads of the dragon denying their destinies: instead of leading humanity against the Others, Dany will attack the “mummer’s dragon” Aegon in a Second Dance, Tyrion will make his own war on Cersei at Casterly Rock, and Jon will make a pilgrimage to the former site of the Tower of Joy following Howland’s directions. I think it’s while Jon’s in the south that he meets Dany, reunites with Tyrion, and gets himself a dragon. In the second half of ADOS, the three of them will pull each other back from the abyss, and decide to be heroes because that’s who they want to be, not because the prophecies say so. It’s all about the existential victories, which will hold true even/especially if (as I believe) the three of them don’t make it back from beyond the curtain of light at the end of the world. Remember The Iron Giant

“You are who you choose to be.”

“Superman.” KABOOM 

30 jours pour écrire, jour 2 / Gares

Bordeaux, Paris, Orléans,
j’en ai vu, des trains, tu sais,  j’en ai connu des gares. J’y ai attendu, je me suis cachée parfois, j’ai aimé souvent.
Nancy, Marmande, Lorraine TGV,
j’ai espéré, j’ai souri, j’ai pleuré. Je suis arrivée sur le quai des heures avant le départ, des heures avant l’arrivée.
Béziers, Biarritz, Bayonne,
j’ai tremblé, parfois, pour un sourire, pour une étreinte, pour un espoir. J’ai rêvé, j’ai dessiné des vies entières à de parfaits inconnus, j’ai pleuré aux notes lointaines d’un piano pas encore abandonné. 
Perpignan, La Teste, Metz,
j’ai manqué de m’endormir, j’ai titubé, je n’ai pas osé faire demi-tour. Ne pas monter à bord, rester là, opter pour l’immobilité. 
Thaon, Epinal, Agen,
je me suis blottie, j’ai embrassé, j’ai eu peur. Je ne sais pas si j’ai dansé, mais je te promets que j’aurais aimé ça, esquissé un pas de danse pour les absents, pour les fantômes, pour les retardataires.

Aujourd’hui, j’ai entendu cette annonce sur le quai, pour le vingtième fois au moins. “Vous êtes arrivés en gare de Toulouse Matabiau. Assurez-vous que vous n'avez rien oublié dans le train.” Je suis descendue, sans me retourner. A bord, j’avais laissé une heure et demie d’errance, quelques lignes d’un livre que je faisais semblant de lire, une larme retenue de justesse, un chewing-gum trop longtemps mâché, une romance avortée, le sourire d’un gosse, quelques cheveux sûrement. Personne ne m’attendait sur le quai alors, je suis sortie. Dehors, la chaleur accablante, un peu de vent, une cigarette bienvenue. Dehors, la vie, patiente, qui n’attendait que moi - dehors la vie que j’ai saisie, qui m’a noyée dans un verre, puis deux, puis quinze, qui m’a bousculée, qui m’a serrée fort entre ses bras et qui m’a posée, là, au creux de mon lit, ivre et heureuse.

Ça me fait bizarre d'être de retour ici. Ça me rappelle trop de choses. Tout est vieux ici. Je vis mal. J'ai la voix trop douce, contenue. J'ai la voix de quelqu'un qui survie. Je me contiens, je contrôle tout pour ne pas faire face à ce qui m'a traumatisé. Mon grand-père a dû mal à m'entendre quand je parle donc je ne parle pas. On écoute de la vieille musique ensemble, en buvant du vieil alcool. “C'est une source éternelle, ça ne s'arrête jamais”. Je dis que “oui c'est la vieillesse qui se décide toujours pas à mourir”. J'aimerai écouter ma musique. J'aimerai dormir dans mon lit. J'aimerai être dans mon appartement. En attendant, sur l'écran noir de mes nuits, je fais mon cinéma. Une fiction où je suis enfin vivant. Où je ne survis plus. Où je ressens quelque chose. Où elle me fait ressentir quelques choses. Chaque matin ça me fait bizarre d'être ici. Je le vis mal. C'est comme le premier homme au premier matin du monde : je n'ai rien demandé pour être ici, je vous rends votre matin gris. Je n'ai pas le choix, le matin je me lève et je regarde. J'ai des fenêtres sur le ciel à la place des yeux.

E più passano i giorni più vi guardo e vi detesto.
—  Sercho feat Luca J - Nato per questo

Derrière l’écran de fumée qu’elle projette vers moi je devine son rire, bien que faute aux travaux je n’entende rien, et qu’aussi je ne sens rien, parce qu’il pleut à verse, que je ne peux la toucher puisqu’elle vient de tomber et qu’elle s’évapore, elle qui un instant de cela fumait une cigarette en riant de ma blague, face à moi – c’est drôle comme tout d’elle s’évanouit lorsque je la fais revenir, qu’elle fond lorsque je saisis d’elle une image ; que tout d’elle soit loin, c’est drôle – plus je vis, plus j’avance et m’éloigne.