mmm yes this is so amusing

stellium probs in the houses
  • *just an amusing, lighthearted post to lighten up the problems one could have with a stellium*
  • stellium in the 1st: "WHO AM I?????"
  • stellium in the 2nd: "THIS IS MINE, THAT IS MINE, EVERYTHING IS MINE. AND NO, THAT'S NOT YOURS"
  • stellium in the 3rd: "blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah"
  • stellium in the 4th: "I remembered the old days when things weren't so shitty.... Ah.... yes.... childhooooood."
  • stellium in the 5th: "ahhhhh yassssss passionnnn mmm yas passion is my life"
  • stellium in the 6th: "werk werk werk werk werk"
  • stellium in the 7th: "I've had 3849234 lovers in 2 days, is this normal?"
  • stellium in the 8th: "I NEED TO CONTROL EVERYTHING!!!!!! ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING!!"
  • stellium in the 9th: *talks about something interesting while stumbling to leave the house with a messy luggage, untied shoes, half-zipped luggage, tiny grin*
  • stellium in the 10th: "idk how many times I've changed my major, I've lost count"
  • stellium in the 11th: "pls!!! let me fit in!!!! can I join your squad!!! I don't wanna stand out!!!!!!"
  • stellium in the 12th: "wait, I did that....? you sure...? bro.... I don't know.... you think so?"

lady-mephistopheles  asked:

How about listening to each other's breathing for Hartwin? ❤❤

His dreams never quite make sense the way they used to. Harry’s aware this time that he’s back in his cell, bright lights turned up and padded walls covered in butterfly sketches, but that’s all he can collect. He’s offered a burger with a too-shiny bun on a silver platter, Poppy’s red fingernails holding onto them, Valentine’s cajoling voice offering him a Big Mac, Gazelle’s legs reflecting across his vision. The door opens, revealing Tequila and Whiskey and Merlin and Eggsy, ready to come out?, who are you?, tell us about yourself, you’re here, voices and accents blending into each other like felt tips on the soft walls. Hands touch his face, lifting his eyepatch, putting it back on, probing the dead flesh, stroking it gently, pulling back his eyelid. 

Harry, someone says, come back. You’re alive. Is he dead? That tends to happen when you shoot someone in the head. Galahad. Grenade! Harry, I’m so sorry; I’m going to…

Going to what? 

You stay here; I’ll sort out this mess when I get back. Dear Eggsy, Eggsy, Eggsy, I saw in you what someone saw in me. I see a young man with potential. Have you seen Trading Places? Gin and vermouth and an olive, sounds easy enough until you try to make it on your own. Breakfast is served. Eggsy? I’m sorry, I can’t…

There’s no evil laugh or slamming of the cell door to wake him up; Harry just wakes, heart pounding, sweat trickling down his back. His hands scrabble for the orange bottle of pills by his bedside, then remember he’s stopped those a week ago, then simply lay there for a second, trembling and listening. 

Eggsy’s steady breathing is the only sound in the room, and Harry’s heart rate begins to lower with each rise and fall of his chest. He’s alive and well and sleeping beside him in their new home, the one they’d picked together that’s a ways from the slowly rebuilding shop. Eggsy had been enamored of the large claw foot tub, the window seats in the office, and the backyard with the fire pit and doghouse, showing Harry pictures on the screen of his mobile. We can sit out here during the summer months and grill and maybe have Mum and Daisy over, he’d said eagerly, and Harry could picture it, even from the confines of their plane, heading back to an uncertain future and a home he hadn’t seen in a long time. 

Time, even now, seems confusing, looping endlessly with names and faces that feel half-dreamed. He finds himself standing still long enough to try to file these in his mind, wishing for paper and pen, and repeating different conversations and recollections like well-tread mantras. His stomach feels queasier than he remembers, his back and limbs also aching, his mind still wide awake during all hours of the night, and Harry doesn’t need to go into the lack of vision. The Statesman feel act vaguely guilty around him, but Harry can’t hold onto any resentment after all this time; Kingsman had prisoners before, after all. 

One of the only things that steadies him is Eggsy. Eggsy, resplendent in his new bespoke suit for the shop’s reopening; Eggsy, cuddling two puppies, a pug and a terrier, in his arms before settling them into their cages for the recruits; and Eggsy, breathing soundly and deeply alongside him in their bed. 

“Harry?” Eggsy now murmurs. He’s still new to being a spy, the sort that can sleep peacefully through the night without stirring at an odd creak of the house settling. “Y’okay?” 

“I’m all right,” Harry reassures him, then briefly rubs Eggsy’s arm under the covers. There’s a puckered scar there from long before he’d become a Kingsman, and his fingers trace over it before moving to the shoulder, slightly bared to the room. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Y’sure?” Eggsy sounds more awake now, and Harry gently tugs his hand away before it touches the lamp on the nightstand. “Do you need something?” 

“No,” Harry says. Just you. 

“All right,” Eggsy says, sounding a bit skeptical, but curls up into Harry’s body, head nuzzling underneath his chin. “Just let me know. We don’t have to be at the shop until nearly ten.” Already, he’s almost half-asleep. “And we have dinner with Mum and Daisy, so we need to get…desserts…”

“Yes,” Harry says, closing his eyes. 

“Florentines…” 

“Yes,” Harry repeats, quietly amused. “Florentines.” 

“Mmm,” Eggsy mutters, then says something about strawberries and coffee. “Harry, you ain’t asleep.” 

 Harry smiles fondly, then rolls over, throwing an arm around Eggsy’s waist. His heart rate is back to normal, and soon, his sleeping breaths join Eggsy’s.  

Non-sexual Forms of Intimacy 

The Ropes

First time writing femslash. I am hot and bothered.

Dana Brooke/Charlotte Flair/OC. For Anon: Ridiculous porn storyline influence but… being Charlotte’s new protégé and Dana gets jealous over how much special attention you get, so she makes you cum all over Charlotte’s new robe and calls her in immediately to see what you did. Still turned on, you can’t even argue about what Dana did, finding Charlotte scolding you really hot. You tell her you’ll accept whatever punishment she deems fit… annnnd sexy times. Can totally turn into a threesome.

 

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LOYAL || Mafia!Seungcheol [Chp 7: Epilogue]

BLURB: In which SVT is the Robin Hood of mafia gangs and you’re the gang leader’s little sister.

GENRE: action, au!mafia, romance, family

WORDS: 743

PART: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (pt. I) | 6 (pt. II) | 7 [Epilogue]


You wouldn’t leave your room for the next few weeks. You didn’t want to eat or shower or talk to anyone. You only woke up to avoid the headaches you get from sleeping too much.

Somehow, you knew it was entirely your fault. If you hadn’t gone with Chan Woo, if you hadn’t defied your brother’s orders, he would still be alive right now.

You would still have your oppa…

It killed you every day that you had killed your own brother.

You hated how the gang was so nice to you. They tried to comfort you and cracked lame jokes and brought you food as if you deserved their love. Couldn’t they tell what a monster you were? How could they be so kind to someone who killed their own brother? You hated it so much that every time someone tried to enter your room or talk to you, you would throw a fit and fling stuff at them.

That never stopped Seungcheol, though.

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4

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

I pretty much made a wardrobe collection for every season for Jason. LOL. (And even a random AU wat.)

I’m just so amused by the coincidence of the prompts. HAHAHA!

Thank you for all those who surprised me with so many Jasons. Srsly. I’m still wondering WHY? XD XD I was expecting someone else but anyway… Haha! I had fun! (。・ω・。)

Now I have this urge to make one for the other batboys. HMMMMM… HMMMMMMMM~ 〜( ̄▽ ̄〜)

Vegas Baby, Vegas - Happy Joshifer Birthday!

So I realize this is a few hours early, but I don’t trust my queue to actually post this on your birthday, and while it can never be quite as awesome as the super amazing beanie/boxers/Joshifer goodness drawing you gave me for my birthday, I do hope you enjoy your queen bee colliding with our favorite idiots.  Happy Birthday, Clayton I hope it’s awesome for you :)  xoxo

Vegas Baby, Vegas

“Yes.”

“No.”

 “C’mon Josh!  It’s Vegas!”

“No,” he groaned petulantly, “We just got done filming I want to go back home and sleep in my own bed until 3PM every day for a week at least.”

“C’mon, really?  You are the lamest 21 year old, ever.  It’s VEGAS!”

“Vegas is so not your scene Jennifer, what are you up to?” He replied cocking his head to the side to look at her as he laid sprawled out on the bed with her in the crook of his arm.

“You don’t think I can play penny slots with the rest of the old ladies?”

He chuckled softly and curled his arm bringing her closer, “And after we’ll head to the seedy downtown and play bingo and war and then stop by the Stardust and pay homage to the landmark of Zack and Kelly’s wedding?”

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klarolineforevermine  asked:

“i came to the gym to work out but holy god i can’t stop watching you do one armed push ups that’s so hot” AU

Caroline clocks out and makes her way to the women’s locker room. As a personal trainer, you would think that she would have had enough of the gym by the end of the day, but helping others get their sweat on verses doing the sweating yourself is a completely different thing.

Working out is euphoric. The feel of her legs burning, the sweat running down her body as she forgets about the world and focuses solely on herself.

She passes by the water cooler where a number of women are gathered. They’re talking quietly and staring across the room - mouths gaping and water bottles being used as cold compresses.

“I could watch this all day.”

“If I were 10 years younger…”

“I wonder if he could bench press me?”

“This image is going to get me through sex with Bob tonight.” 

Caroline giggles to herself, entertained by the ladies’ commentary. She glances over to where they are looking, curiosity overtaking her, when she spots him. It’s no one that she recognizes, which doesn’t surprise her since they have new faces coming and going all the time, but her interest has definitely been piqued.

She drinks him in as she slowly makes her way to the machines. He’s wearing a loose tank top with the sleeves ripped down his sides. She can see the tonality of his arms, and the leanness of his stomach, and she silently wishes there wasn’t a mandatory clothing policy at the gym. The fluidity of the push-ups he’s doing, makes her subconsciously lick her lips. Up, down, up, down, one arm then two arms then back to one. He’s like a well oiled machine with his perfect technique. His legs and back are straight as a board and his head is down in concentration.  

Up, down…up, down. Biceps rippling, sweat glistening, it’s enough to make her lady parts do a few exercises themselves.

She was going to cycle, but the view from the elliptical suddenly becomes more appealing. She steps up onto the machine and punches in her information before slowly starting her routine. 

Up, down…one arm…then the other.

She continues to glance over at him, watching him in the mirror as he begins a new set. She’s been so focused on his body, and the way it moves so perfectly, that when he looks up into the mirror she feels her breath catch.

He just has to be dropped dead gorgeous too, doesn’t he?

She can’t even feel the sweat trickling down her forehead or the burning in her thighs as she focuses on the deliciousness in front of her. Dark blonde hair, a scruffy face and a pair of lips that are begging to be sucked on. She feels like a complete perv, but Lord knows she’s been on the receiving end of some creepy leers, and so her actions seem justified. Plus, it’s not like she’s the only one staring. She glances back over at the water cooler where the collection of middle-aged matrons has increased.

She turns back to him and starts to wonder what color his eyes are. Blue? Green? Grey? It’s a mystery that is soon solved, however, when his eyes flick toward her in the mirror’s reflection. She shakes her head and glances away immediately, pretending to suddenly be extremely interested in the red blinking lights on her machine.

Shit.

He caught her staring, and she’s sinking into an early grave. Death by embarrassment. And there she’ll lie with the words Caroline “the Oggler” Forbes engraved upon her tombstone.

She focuses on her workout, trying to sweat the embarrassment out, until she feels the coast is clear. She nonchalantly glances back up, but the mystery man is gone. She looks around the room, but he seems to have disappeared, along with the cougar den over at the water cooler. She takes a deep breath and laughs at herself.

Silly, Caroline.

“Is this machine taken?” she hears an accented man inquire.

“Nope,” she says brightly, glad to have the distraction gone. “It’s all-”

Her feet slow down, and she falters for a moment on her machine. Her hands grab the railing and she composes herself.

So he has an accent too. Isn’t that just perfect?

“-Yours,” she quietly finishes her statement. He laughs and she does too before turning back to her machine. He climbs up onto the elliptical next to her and she tries to focus on her workout.

It’s funny though, cause she can sense him staring. She can tell that those blue-green-gray eyes are boring a smoldering hole into the side of her face. She glances over briefly and, yep, he’s definitely staring at her. She presses her lips together as she tries to hold back a smile, and she shakes her head. 

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” she finally asks him but doesn’t look at him.

“If you mean staring at the most beautiful woman in the gym, then yes I am.” 

She shakes her head again and rolls her eyes back. She stops her workout and turns to look at him. 

Blue…they’re blue.

“So you caught me staring,” she tells him.

“Yes…yes I did. And I must say, I’ve never felt more like a piece of meat in my entire life.”

His voice is playful and light, and she knows he’s just messing with her…or dare she think, flirting with her?

“Oh, is that so?” she asks, keeping the same level of amusement to her voice.

“Mmm hmm,” he nods.

“Well then, tell me…how can I acquit myself?”

A smirk lifts in the corner of his mouth and his eyes do this sparkle thing that she’s pretty certain gets him anything that he wants in life.

“I’m a reasonable man,” he begins. “I feel as though an evening in your company may assist in your exoneration.”

“Seems reasonable,” she agrees and puts her hand out for him to shake on it.

“Caroline,” she introduces herself.

“It’s very nice to meet you Caroline.”  He grabs hold of her hand and gently shakes it. “I’m Klaus.”

caitrionabafle  asked:

"Can I tell you a secret?"/ "Please stay." Klaroline, of course :) Work your magic!

She loves hotels. She loves how impersonal they are and how glamorous they make her feel, so entirely unlike a small-town girl forever stuck in a filler year. She loves it when he pushes her against the door and kisses her with his hands tangled in her hair. She loves the little click the key card makes, and she loves the way he picks her up after she trips over her own leg walking backwards to their bedroom.

She is lightheaded from the half a dozen glasses of crisp white wine she inhaled along with the romance of a midnight garden party and she thinks everything would be perfect, if only-

But then she is falling deeper into a warm shell of sheets and he is on top of her and his hands ever so lightly trace the secret contours of her body and she shivers and promptly loses her train of thought.

He is scraping his teeth across her neck, just firm enough to leave a mark and when she tilts her head upwards to allow him better access, she can glimpse the Parisian sky and it’s her favourite shade of pink. Silvery sheets of cold rain thrum against the window and inside the air is thick with the comforting moist warmth that arrived with dawn. She thinks everything would be perfect, if only this restless guilt would stop chasing her.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she sighs.

Mmmm, he says, his attention solely on figuring out how to get the damned dress off her body. “Klaus”, she says, running her hand through his golden curls before tugging them gently.

He raises his eyes and smiles at her before kissing her deeply. She is drunk on wine and love and she doesn’t want to stop but oh we must pay for our sins.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she repeats forcefully, trying her best to avoid his eyes.

“What did you do this time?” he chuckles, moving over and pressing kisses on her bare shoulder.

She huffs in anger at his amusement and turns sideways away from him. “Remember Elijah’s new antique vase? The priceless one that he told us not to touch?”

Mmm, Klaus says, now having spotted the zip at the back of her dress and wondering if it would be quicker to use that or just tear the dress off.

“I kind of maybe accidentally broke it.”

He stills.

“The vase?”

“Yes.”

“The gilt-bronze mid 17th century vase?”

“Yes, okay?! It just happened.”

“How does that just happen?”

“I wanted to see what the big deal was, I mean, it wasn’t even pretty. So anyway, I sort of held it, but it was heavier than I anticipated and then well, it happened.”

Klaus rolls on his back and stares at the ceiling.

“I am never going to hear the end of it.”

“Only if he finds out, which he won’t, because you wouldn’t tell him, would you?” she coaxes. She gets up and straddles him, her fingers drawing lazy circles on his skin. “I stuck it together with super glue so you can barely even make it out. So it looks a little wonky but-“

“Caroline, shut up and kiss me.”

“Are you angry?” she asks in a small voice.

“Could I ever be angry when you are on top of me, love?”

“Mildly annoyed, then?” Caroline giggles, rolling her hips.

“Very mildly annoyed,” he mutters, eyes darkening as his fingers dig into her hips, pressing her closer. “But right now I just need you to take that lovely dress off or you are never getting to wear it again.”

Your Not-So Friendly Neighbourhood Consulting Love Poodle
  • : :THIS WAS GOING TO BE TWO PARTS BUT I COULDN'T WAIT. PLEASE EXCUSE MY CLUTTERING UP THE TAG (PS. IT'S LONG) :)
  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *writing frantically*
  • John: *reading the newspaper*
  • Sherlock: *taps his chin with the pen*
  • John: *glances at him over the paper*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *hastily crossing things out*
  • John: *sighs* Aren't you usually at Bart's-
  • Sherlock: Do you know where William Shakespeare lives?
  • John: ...
  • John: William Shakespeare? As...as in-
  • Sherlock: *frustrated* As in the playwright and romantic poet, yes.
  • John: *amused* Why?
  • Sherlock: *frowns* I need his help.
  • John: *folds his paper* So, you want to know where William Shakespeare lives? Presently?
  • Sherlock: *through gritted teeth* Yes. It's a perfectly simple question.
  • John: *forces a neutral expression* Oh, he lives in Stratford-Upon-Avon but he's a pretty busy man. What with all the plays and poems he's writing. Plus, it's a two hour drive.
  • Sherlock: *nods* Mmm. A phone number?
  • John: *hiding behind the newspaper* Try the Yellow Pages. Why are you so keen anyway?
  • Sherlock: *shrugs* Women seem to like him. He writes romantic poems.
  • John: *smiles* Ahhh *pauses* Here... *gestures for the paper*
  • Sherlock: *narrows his eyes*
  • John: *rolls his eyes* Trust me.
  • Sherlock: *sighs; hands him the paper*
  • John: *writing, folds the paper and seals it; smiles* Go get her, mate.
  • LATER
  • Molly: *yawns; enters her office and finds a note attached to a muffin*
  • Molly: *confused; reads the note* "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite. I do love nothing in the world so much as you'. Your not-so friendly neighbourhood consulting love poodle. PS. I think Shakespeare is still alive."
  • Molly: ...
  • Molly: *grins*
fic: a most troublesome double date, p1/2

Ten/Rose; Rose and Jackie trick the Doctor into coming to a meal out at a restaurant. 

“Please, Rose?” Jackie asked, grabbing her daughter’s arm.

The Doctor shook his head vehemently and grabbed Rose’s other arm. “Don’t you dare,” he begged in a low voice.

“I just want you to get to know him!” Jackie complained, glaring at the Doctor.

“Fine! But you don’t have to drag me into it!” he retorted loudly.

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