knees touching

7-23-17 || 3 doubles in, I almost put the year 11 instead of 17, I’m tired and UNinspired, feeling stagnant, hate having my computer in the bedroom, need a change v desperately I need something to happen. SO. Just. My view, if I look to the right. There is no space between this desk and my bed, my legs are crossed and one knee is touching the computer tower while the other is touching the bed. /vents on a fucking still life

I am the one before the one.

It’s a role I’ve learned to accept.

I am the one who will overload your senses, I am far too much of everything, but you will try to encompass all that I am. I will be the one who teaches you exactly what you want from “the one.” With me you will see things as though the lights were turned too high on the dimmer so that you could only see me and the music too loud that you couldn’t quite hear anybody else. With the next girl you end up with she will shine just brightly enough that you will be able to see everything you couldn’t see with me and the volume of her music will not leave you deaf when the song ends.
I will help you grow by pushing you to the extent of your limit, I will call you out when you’re wrong, I will ask you to do a little better than last time, and I will love you with a love you didn’t even know could exist.
It will feel as though one hand I’ve given you to hold holds all the love in the world and the other holds the words my tongue lashes out with no filter. But with those hands you will learn both the love you deserve and how to finally not hold back how you truly feel. These hands will teach you to speak freely without fear of condemnation and condescending judgements. They will teach you to love and touch everything that you find beautiful as you pull your hands through her hair or frolic through a patch of flowers and pull the petals to your face to smell their fragrance.
You see after me, you’ll learn not only how to love yourself, but love her. She will tell you that she’s never experienced a love quite like yours and you’ll never tell the secret that you learned it from me.

You see, I am the one before the one.

But like that scar you got from scraping your knee on the climb up your favorite mountain, you won’t forget me.
When pieces of her emanate me, I will be present in the breath you hold in just a second too long at the memory of me, the sharp feeling on your tongue as you bite down as my name starts to slip through your mouth, the butterflies in your stomach as you remember the way my eyes lit up at your presence. Her smooth edges that represent who she is will often remind you of my jagged edges, the ones that cut you but you still loved to climb. And for all those moments you’re reminded of me, you’ll touch your knee and realize you hadn’t climbed your favorite mountain to your favorite view in a while. You’ll wonder if instead of the common smooth edged rock you’d found on the ground, the one you could buy for five dollars at your local farmers market, you could’ve had a fine cut diamond with jagged edges.
And as you look into her eyes and see your reflection you’ll wonder if the pressure of my love could’ve made you a diamond as well.

—  I am the one before the one
Body contact excuses

- person A hugging everyone so they can get to hug person B
- person A lightly pushing around person B/pinching them
- person A running their hands along Bs wrists/sensitive areas because they know they like it
- person A caring exaggeratedly about the roughness/softness of Bs hands
- person A teaching person B basic self defence
- person A using person B as a pillow all the time (B pretends to hate it but they know they like it)
- person A grabbing things from person B all the time
- person A always making sure their knees/elbows are touching when they sit next to B

i’ve never been one who was fond of physical touch. a quick hug from a friend or family member was as much as i would enjoy. anything longer than the “hi good to see you” hug or more than that and i was uncomfortable. i’m not quite sure what it is about it that makes me so uncomfortable. but with you it was the complete opposite. i wanted nothing more than that touch in the most innocent way possible. i wanted to hold your hand and never let it go. i wanted our knees touching. i wanted our arms resting next to each other. i wanted to sit next to you and there be absolutely no space between us. maybe it’s because you feel like home. maybe it’s because i love you. maybe you feel like home because i love you or maybe i love you because you feel like home. i just know that you feel like home and i know that i love you and i know that i want to be next to you.
—  c.r.p.
There you are across the room, those eyes, that face, I can’t help but stare. My knees weaken at the thought of your touch. My heart jumps because I like you so much, but shyness has brought me down so low. And who I am, you may never know.

i was thinking about amazonian telepathy and i don’t think i can use this anywhere so

There were responsible ways to deal with being bored during League debriefs. Rather than do any of them, Diana adjusted her legs so that her knee touched Batman’s. A ragged tear in his suit meant that it was skin-to-skin contact.

She reached out tentatively.

Black Canary’s hair looks cute today, she ventured, an idle thought to share. She was careful not to go searching for any answers he did not give. She expected him to say nothing, and break contact.

Doesn’t matter, came his answer, so terse a dismissal it almost startled her. He didn’t move his leg. It seemed unlike him, but this form of communication did tend to be more honest.

How unfortunate, to imagine this was what he thought of their occasional conversations.

I’m sure she put a lot of work into it, Diana tried again. The bright blonde locks had been curled into ringlets before being drawn up into a ponytail.

Not for me.

She frowned. That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate it.

Don’t need to.

You’re being awfully rude.

It’s fine.

If I’d gone through such trouble, I’d want you to notice.

Not for me.

It will be, Diana decided. I’ll do my hair just like that, to spite you, and it will be the cutest.

Batman said nothing. Then he leaned back just a little, only enough to see where their knees touched. He glanced at Diana, then away. Was that you? he asked finally.

Of course, she said.

How long have we been having a conversation? he asked.

Since I pointed out the cuteness of Black Canary’s coiffure? she said. Batman did not respond. What did you think was happening?

Intrusive thoughts.

She tried to look at his face sidelong, though she didn’t know why. Looking at him directly would make it no easier to decipher his minimal expressions. Do your intrusive thoughts often sound like me making observations about other women?

Sometimes.

Can you two keep it down? asked J'onn. Some of us are trying to pay attention.

No you’re not, Diana accused. You just heard gossip and wanted in.

We’re not gossiping, Batman said. Don’t make me break truce.

I had also noticed Black Canary’s hair, J'onn said, ignoring Batman.

Isn’t it cute? Diana asked.

Batman sighed.

Do you think I could pull it off? J'onn asked.

Batman had a sudden coughing fit.

13 Reasons Why Preference: PDA

Not my gifs

Originally posted by alyciadubnamcarey

Clay Jensen: Clay wasn’t big on PDA and honestly, neither were you. You two liked to save your affectionate moments for when you were in private, so your PDA would mostly be holding hands and a hug when one of you left the other. That is, until Clay got jealous– then all rules regarding PDA were out of the window, and he’d flat out make out with you in front of the person trying to flirt with you. 

Originally posted by zachdempsey

Alex Standall: You were much more into PDA than Alex. He’s a more private guy, but you loved to show your relationship off, so you’d usually be the one to initiate PDA. Alex didn’t mind when you did this, he’d always squeeze your hand when you grabbed his, or wrap his arms around you when you sat on his lap. He certainly would never deny you a kiss when you wanted one (which was always), but he the kisses were never too long or too intimate; he’d save those for the bedroom. 

Originally posted by 13-lara

Jeff Atkins: Jeff would love PDA because he loved to show you off. You two would never be seen together without some kind of PDA. Jeff loved kissing you in front of other people, and his arm stayed around your waist at all times. Even when you tagged along to his tutoring sessions with Clay, he’d keep a hand on your knee or your feet touching under the table. Clay would always make fun of him for his constant need to touch you, but he couldn’t help it– he loved you, and he wanted the entire world to know that you were his. 

Originally posted by veronicsalodge

 Zach Dempsey: Unexpectedly, Zach’s PDA would be limited only to when he was drunk. He didn’t want to be the stereotypical jock, who only thought about “getting some.” So for this reason, Zach was very careful about PDA. He wasn’t ashamed of you at all (the complete opposite, actually) so he’d steal an occasional kiss on the cheek or just holding you in the hallway for a minute between classes. But when he was drunk? A whole ‘nother story. He’d be all over you when he was drunk– kissing you constantly, pulling you into his lap, never ceasing to hold you in his arms. These moments were some of your favorites– when he let his walls down, poured love onto you, and let the entire school know how much he cared about you. 

Originally posted by despairingfever

Justin Foley: Justin would love PDA. You two would get in trouble at school all too often for “excessive public display of affection,” but honestly, neither of you cared. Justin hated being apart from you, so he’d always be sure to have an arm around your shoulders, his lips on yours, or at the very least, his hand resting on your knee. Sometimes he’d get a bit cheeky– a hand resting a little too high on your thigh, maybe– and that’s when you’d get in trouble. But he didn’t care, especially since the PDA helped ensure that no other guy in the school would even try to flirt with you, for fear of Justin finding out.

Hey everyone!! I’m finally posting my Dralentine’s day fanart/fanfic

@drvcopotter got this (hello!!) hope you liked it! *hides shyly*

‘Enough, that’s- that’s enough… Draco!’

'I’m sober!’ Draco lauched himself forward, blindly trying to snatch the Firewhiskey bottle from Harry’s hands.

The crowded pub made it easier for Harry to just get up from their table and pull Draco with him without getting much attention from their coworkers, most of them already as drunk as Malfoy. The blond fidgeted in his arms, mumbling something Harry couldn’t understand or barely hear.

We’re going home’ the unintelligible words shushing Draco immediately. He’d learnt parseltongue was useful for those times Draco wouldn’t listen to him. Harry hooked one of Malfoy’s arms around his shoulder, doing his best not to bump into too many people on his way to the door.

'Harry!’

Fuck. He turned around with some difficulty, Malfoy breathing on his neck while trying to balance his weigh on his legs without bringing both of them down.

Ron walked towards him, his expression quickly changing into one of concern as soon as he recognized the blond head.

'Where are you going?’ Ron squinted  his eyes suspiciously, darting them from Harry to Malfoy, who hiccuped and giggled, the sound muffled by Harry’s hair where his face was now buried. Ron didn’t even bother to hide his disconfort, his cheeks a dark shade of red Harry knew couldn’t be blamed only on Firewhiskey.

'Home’ Harry rolled his eyes, giving Ron a small smile to try and ease the tension a bit.

'Why? You’re not his mother! Just leave him here, I’m sure he can-’ Ron gesticulated towards an almost unconscious Draco like he was trash Harry was taking outside.

'And then what? I’ll have to open the door for him later anyway.’

Ron sighed, searching for help and noticing no one cared if they were leaving or not.

'It’s friday and you’ve just finished a fucked up case. You don’t deserve this, Harry’

It’s not that bad, Harry thought, the words now common in his vocabulary when talking to Ron, Hermione, or any of his friends. Being paired with Malfoy after their Auror training two years ago may have angered him a bit - quite a lot, actually - and finding out they’d have to share a flat, which was protocol for new partners in order to 'strengthen the bond’ didn’t sound like the best of options, but after all, it really wasn’t that bad. Malfoy was organized and surprisingly quiet. He could be nosy, childish and bossy but most of the time, it was manageable.

A drunk Malfoy, however was another story. Needy, cuddly, demanding. It shocked Harry the first time the blond got himself pissed on a Friday night and let his head fall on Harry’s shoulder in the middle of the bar.

'Let’s go home, Harry’ he giggled in his ear, Harry’s own name resonating in his head.

After that he’d tried his best not to let Malfoy drink too much.

Malfoy hiccuped again and Ron let out an exasperated sigh.

'It’s fine. See you Monday, yeah?’ Harry turned around before Ron could say anything, his own mind a bit dizzy from the alcohol and the noise.

***

'Harry’

The cold breeze hit them square in the face the moment Harry opened the door. He let it close behind him, the noise gone the second it clicked shut. Malfoy shivered against him, curling himself on Harry’s side. The sooner they reached their flat the better. The safer, Harry thought.

Harry’ Draco breathed in his ear. Fuck, Harry hated how Malfoy always said his name, how could Harry mean something completely different than Potter coming from the same person?

'Yeah?’ Harry stopped, his mind still too slow for him to remember where was the nearest apparition point.

'I’m hungry’ Draco nuzzled his nose against Harry’s dark locks, inhaling like that was the most natural thing to do.

'What? No, we’re going home, Draco’ He said firmly, deciding for a random direction.

'Please, I’m really hungry…’ Harry let out an exasperated groan, the weigh and the cold doing nothing to improve his mood. He took a look around, spotting a small convenience store not far from them on the other side of the street. They had no food at home, he was tired and, if Draco was indeed that hungry, he woudn’t be too picky about it.

They crossed the street, Harry sitting Draco on the closest bench outside the store as soon as they reached it.

'Stay here. I mean it, Draco, stay

’’m not a dog, Potter’

Potter. Good, he was not that drunk.

Harry turned around, rolling his eyes, and opened the glass door.

Water, some noodles. An aspirin since Draco forgot to brew hangover potion. Hmm, chocolate, since Draco would be in an awful mood tomorrow-

Harry stopped shortly. Merlin, they sounded so… domestic. Harry shivered, avoiding the cashier’s eyes since he knew his cheeks were probably bright pink.

He headed for the door noticing through the glass that Draco wasn’t where he’d left him.

'Fuck’ He stormed out of the store, his wand already firmly secured in his hand.

'Draco?’

'Hmm?’ Harry jumped, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Malfoy was stading not far from him, his hand placed on a huge cabin right by the door.

'A photobooth cabin?’ Harry’s voice startled the blond, who darted his eyes towards him.

'Photo what?’

Harry remebered the first time Dudley got home with one of those stripes, his ugly face splashed in tiny squares all over it. When he’d asked aunt Petunia if he could take one too the woman told him those things were for people with friends. And Harry had none.

'You take photos in these’ He stared at the ground, the grip on the plastic bags tighter than necessary.

'Let’s go’

'I wanna try it’

'What?’ Harry stopped, not believing what his ears were telling him.

'Come on, Potter, it can’t be that bad’ Draco took a step forward, lifting the black curtains and peering inside, curiously.

'You’re aware this is a muggle thing, right?’ Harry said, taking a step forward. He had no idea why a muggle photobooth cabin was standing outside of a convenience store on a wizard neighborhood. He checked the money entry, noticing it was modified to accept wizard money. An image of Mr. Weasley appeared in his mind instantly. Right, there were wizards who collected stuff like that.

Harry dropped two knuts inside the machine, Draco already getting inside.

It was small, smaller than he’d expected, with only one old black stool. Harry sat awkwardly at the edge, almost falling while doing his best to avoid touching Draco more than needed. The blond seemed too distracted with a big black screen in front of him to notice or even worry himself about it, letting his knee touch Harry’s carelessly.  Harry pressed the only button under the screen, the countdown starting in front of them.

'What’s happening?’ Draco reached for his wand but Harry stopped him before he could take it out of his pocket.

'Look there, and…’

The first picture was taken, Harry only having a few seconds to pull a funny face. He couldn’t help laughing when he realized Draco was just frowning at the camera.

'Are you stupid, Potter?’ He turned to stare at Harry, reminding him of how close they were.

'Why?’ Harry gulped, looking everywhere but at him.

'That’s your idea of a funny face?’ A crooked smile formed in Draco’s lips, paired with something wicked in his eyes. Before Harry could stop him, Malfoy reached out and grabbed his glasses, putting them on his own face.

Another picture was taken while Draco tried to impersonate him. Harry couldn’t help bursting out laughing, Malfoy so unrecognizable wearing his glasses the whole thing seemed too absurd to be taken seriously.

Tears still streaming down his face, Harry opened his eyes to find a small smile on Draco’s lips. The black old frames constrasting with his bright grey eyes and blond hair looked almost… innocent. Harry shouldn’t be thinking that, he shouln’t even be there in that small cabin with him, but the second the blond burst out laughing too, the sound covering Harry’s loud heartbeat, he forgot why Draco Malfoy couldn’t be something else for him.

Another picture was taken before Harry pulled the man towards him and kissed him on the lips.

It took Draco a few seconds to kiss back, his eyes falling shut and lips opening to allow Harry to deepen it. It was, in some way, like a first kiss, the wamth radiating from Draco’s mouth reaching the bottom of Harry’s belly, warming every inch of his body.

They parted, eyes still closed.

‘Harry’ Draco whispered, his tone low and needy.

Harry gulped again, licking his lips which were still millimiters from the other’s. ‘Let’s go back to mine’

‘Did you forget we live together?’

‘I’m trying to flirt here, you git’

Harry chuckled, holding Draco’s face between his hands and kissing him again, softer this time.

‘Let’s go home, Draco’

2

Imagine: Dirty talk with Sam.

Sam x Reader

Warning: Smut, Masturbation, Dirty Talk

Hand to the short curly haired man upstairs, this hadn’t been planned. It started with a bit of fun, a small prank. Although now, at this new point in time, you couldn’t remember what possessed you to think of this, you had changed your name in Sam’s phone. It was suppose to be a minor inconvenience. One you could laugh off later. Instead of “Y/n” your name read “Destiny”. The joke was a lot funnier at two in the morning as you were rushing to think of something while Sam was in the bathroom. You returned to you separate motel room next door before he was done.

That’s where the real fun started.

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Dean’s Plaid

Summary: You and Dean do NOT get along. Until the night that you do.

Warning: smut, anger sex

Word Count: 3200

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy some Dean smut! XOXO

There are two things in the world you really hate: plaid and Dean Winchester.

There are plenty of things that you don’t like, that irritate and annoy you, that you’d rather not deal with. But those are the only two things you actively hate. A store with a window display of plaid clothing is enough to get your blood boiling these days. And Dean? Well, you make sure you never think of Dean. That just tailspins your world into a mess of violent anger for days before it wears off.

So the fact that you are currently wearing one of Dean Winchester’s plaid shirts, listening to him hum along with the radio as he drives you to his motel?

Yeah. You’re gonna need something to kill.

Or you could just kill Dean.

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Kisses Of An Apple | PETER PARKER X READER

Description: While hanging out at the coffee shop the reader’s parents own, Michelle brings up an article that she read in a magazine. One that says you can tell if a person is a good kisser by the way they eat an apple. The reader gets dared by Michelle to put the theory to test, resulting in an interesting Saturday afternoon.

Author’s Note: This was so much fun to write and I hope ya’ll enjoy it as much as I did. My inspiration for this fic came from one a read a while back and really liked. Anyways, if you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics or want to request something feel free to message me.

Word Count: 1521


It was almost too simple. Sitting side by side in the back of the school’s library, shoulders pressed together, and knees touching. Right in that place of not-quite-more-than-friends and nearly at the place of very-obviously-more-than-friends.

It would only take one move for them to become something greater than just best friends. One of Ned’s crazy plans, one of Peter’s embarrassing blunders, one of Michelle’s dry comments that had an obvious hidden meaning. Just something to push the pair together.

Peter and (Y/N), thrown together by some crazy twist of fate, anything could make them Peter and (Y/N).

They’re just waiting on a catalyst.

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Masculine sitting, posture, walking tips for FTM boys/guys

- “man spreading” (sitting with your legs spread out a bit. Not dramatically but having your knees apart and not touching is deemed very masculine.)

- hands in pockets with shoulders up

- legs crossed with ankle resting on the top of your knee

- avoid “closing in” on yourself, for ex. Hunching over, holding your arms too closely to your chest, or having your head down.

- Longer strides when walking, or walking slower

- assertive gestures when speaking

(Feel free to add more if you reblog)

3

There must be a book about this ?? what to do when your friend turns into a big pinkish cat ?


Thank you ! It was a good excuse for me to draw Peregrïn’s cat form. She has a reflex of turning into it when she’s startled. Even when not in battle. Like… don’t wake her up with big noises and stuff.

The suggestion was Peregrïn protecting Khadgar, which is something she would 100% do so I agree with this idea >v<
I still want to point out that at this age they’re pretty much equals, as far as I know, she’s not stronger.
And they do stand up for one another. Even when they were young friends, just two kids, different yet somehow similar.

Vow

*swamped with homework and feelings and managed to shell this out a month late…I’m a mess™*

Request:  Hii can i have a drabble thingy game with jimin?TY😙😉 12,23 by  rebelliousjvmin

Word Count: 8.6k

Originally posted by bwipsul

He’s a literal angel


You were immersed in a deep sleep, tired from working on a large project that was worth half your grade. In you attempt to disconnect from the world around and sleep peacefully, you blocked out the sounds and all touch with reality. The sudden dip in your bed didn’t bother you, the presence of another body and an arm haphazardly wrapping around you, these were things you were blocking out. Until you felt a finger on your cheek.

“Hey, roomie.”

“I hate you.”

“You know you love me.”

“Kiss my ass, Jimin.” You used to think you were lucky to be paired up with your best friend in the dorms of your university. Until you realized he was a clingy, sassy and messy guy that never failed to annoy you. His leisure attitude towards school was opposite to your dedication to reading every word of your textbook. He was a jock, baseball being the reason he was here in your room and cheekily smiling at you.  

“I wouldn’t mind doing that.” You whacked him in the face with your pillow, wanting him to leave your room but he instead pulled you closer against his chest.

“Let go of me, you pervert.”

“You told me to kiss your ass, now…”

“I swear to god, Jimin, I’ll suffocate you in your sleep.”

“Kinky. I always wanted to test out breath play.”

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