The joy of life the sting of death moment to moment breath by breath tender hearts and open eyes truth revealed love never lies a day dawns night descends oft too soon a journey ends precious hours lost to haste how many do we dare waste a part to play a story to tell savor this day and live it well
Date a boy who walks in the forest. His eyes as dark as caves, but as warm as the summer sun. He walks barefoot, barely making a sound as he walks behind you. His voice is barely but a whisper, a breath of air that ruffles leaves and tickles your hair. The entirety of a whisper, only in your ears. When you go to hold his hand, don’t be nervous if he backs away. He is as tough as the bark on a willow tree, and as beautiful as an autumn sun. He will come to you when it is time, and he will love you just as you love him. Date a boy who’s love is as endless as the trees stretching into the summer sky. You will only see him in the day, savor the moment when it turns to sunset. It is also when he is the most beautiful.
stultiloquentia prompted Nursey doing “something new, hard, or nerve-wracking that leaves him thinking, ‘Huh, I think I just passed some sort of adulthood test.’” The prompt got away from me a little bit, but I hope you like it
Derek spends the summer dreading going back to Samwell. Not because he doesn’t love the classes, hockey, or his friends, but because he’s not ready to live with Dex. He can’t even keep a consistent opinion of fucking Dex. One minute he’s decent, the next a raging asshole, and sometimes—when the light in Faber bounces off the curve of his perfectly twitched lips just right and he’s chirping Derek about something inconsequential—it feels like Dex is could be so much more.
There’s a mile long list of things that could go wrong within the first week alone. There’s things like how he gets a little too comfortable with clutter (because it means he belongs somewhere and can’t be gotten rid of anytime soon). Then there’s how he uses classical music to fall asleep; which wasn’t a problem living in suite style dorms. But William Jacob “turn that down” Poindexter probably won’t stand for it. Half of Derek’s list is just miscellaneous “mouth problems”. Problems number one through ten—shit Dex says that makes Derek want to duct tape his mouth shut. Problems number ten through infinity—shit Dex does with his mouth that makes Derek want that mouth all over him.
It’s an ironic conundrum. At least it is from where he’s standing.
You and Draco had been the best of friends ever since you were kids. It was no surprise when you two started dating in your fourth year after many years previously of flustered crushes and blushing moments. You were one and the same, but different in many ways. You two completed each other, but still had different views on things, such as muggles. Draco, of course, hated muggles and mudbloods and blood traitors. You, on the other hand, had no problem with them. It had tested your friendship, but had never broken it. When you started talking to Hermione Granger, Draco didn’t like it, but it wasn’t up to him to decide who you were friends with.
At the beginning of your sixth year, Draco started to grow estranged from you, despite your two years of romance and many more years of friendship. It hurt you, kept you up at nights, knowing he wasn’t confiding in you like he always had. It made you cry, he was barely talking to you anymore. He was skinnier than he had ever been and had dark shadows under his eyes, his temper was very fragile, and you couldn’t understand what was going on.
This went on for months, but you dealt with it. You couldn’t just give up on him; he was your soulmate, your person. You two were meant to be together, so you dealt with it. You didn’t pry, you didn’t want to anger him, but you sat with him in the common room or in his dormitory, not saying much, but just letting him know you were there. He didn’t give as much affection as he used to, but the kisses he gave every now and then were ones you savored.
The day Katie Bell got back from St. Mungo’s, Draco was agitated and wouldn’t sit still. During dinner, Draco roughly got up from his seat and left the Great Hall. You glanced wearily after him before taking off as well.
“Draco!” you called, once you were out of earshot of the Great Hall.
He didn’t turn around.
You sprinted after him, trying to catch up when you saw him enter the boy’s bathrooms. You followed him inside; he had both hands on the top of the sink, tears streaming down his face and sobs racking his body.
You didn’t bother trying to be quiet, he knew you were there and you walked towards him, placing a hand on his back, rubbing up and down.
“Draco, please, just tell me what’s wrong,” you begged, exasperated and close to tears.
He said nothing but gripped your fingers in his, putting your hand between his and the cold porcelain of the sink.
Before you had finished another beg, Draco had whipped around, his wand arm stretched out, pointing at Harry Potter who was also in the same position. Draco had pushed her behind him in the midst of things and was using his other arm to keep her between him and the sink.
Draco sent a hex at Harry, but it missed him by inches. Harry sent one next, but Draco easily blocked it.
“Stop it! STOP IT!” you cried, trying to get out of Draco’s trap. “STOP!”
“Cruci-” Draco started.
You had never heard that spell before, but once you saw it hit Draco square in the chest, you gasped out loud.
Cuts were being slashed all over his body, his white shirt immediately soaking with blood, his perfect face getting sliced open.
“Draco? Draco! Can you hear me?!” you shouted, placing your hands at different parts of his chest, trying to slow the bleeding.
Draco was gasping in pain and jerking as new cuts ripped open his skin.
“Draco, I’m here. I’m right here,” you cried. “HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE! PLEASE HELP!”
You had never heard of this spell, let alone the counter curse. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried to slow the blood flow but to no avail.
You heard faint footsteps behind you, but couldn’t concentrate on them until a black figure was kneading on the other side of Draco.
“Professor,” you signed with relief as Professor Snape started working the counter curse and the blood started to flow back into Draco’s body. Draco’ cried had turned to moans and his body had become still. You grabbed his hand.
“You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dirt any immediately we might avoid even that… Miss (y/l/n), could you take Draco down to the hospital wing?” Professor Snape asked.
“Of course, sir,” you said, reaching for Draco’s arm to wrap around your body. “C'mon, Draco.”
The two of you walked out of the bathroom slowly and down the hall to the hospital wing.
You couldn’t resist yourself any longer; you asked “What’s been going on?”
“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?!” You asked frantically, checking his body to see if you had done any damage.
“No, darling,” he murmured. You shivered at the name. He hadn’t called you that since last year. “I’m sorry, I just I can’t tell you, it’ll put you in more danger.”
You snorted. “I don’t care, Draco! I don’t care! We’re in this together you tell me everything; I tell you everything. Please, just tell me. I don’t care if it puts me in danger if you’re suffering in turn.”
“Yes! You can!”
“I’m a death eater! Okay?!” He shouted, then groaned in pain at the strain.
“Oh, well I already knew that,” you said, picking up your pace.
“I said, I already knew you were a death eater.”
“B-But how?” he asked.
“Draco, I’ve known you since I was born. Your father’s a death eater. It was only a matter of time,” you shrugged. “Plus, I saw the mark. The tip of it anyway.”
“Y-You saw the mark? When?! I’ve been covering it up since summer!” Draco exclaimed.
You pursed your lips as your cheeks flushed.
Draco’s face seemed to dawn in realization, and a smirk lifted on his lips as he realized when you’d seen it. Since he hadn’t given you any attention the whole year, you thought you’d seek it yourself. One night, you went up to his dormitory and tried to get him to fuck you, it didn’t work, but you’d seen the Dark Mark.
“(Y/n), I’m sorry. I tried to separate my self from you so he wouldn’t have any idea who to use in case he needed me to do something, but I was selfish. I let you stay with me and comfort me, I should’ve just ended it,” he muttered the last part.
You gasped as a sharp pain hit your heart. He looked up at you and realized what went wrong. “No! I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant that if I’d broken up with you, you’d be in less danger! (Y/n) I-”
“Don’t you ever say that again, Draco Malfoy,” you sniffed. “War is coming and I won’t be away from you while we’re waiting for it. I’m not wasting any time. You almost just died five minutes ago!”
He grinned up at you and you saw a mischievous tint in his gray eyes that seemed to be darker than usual. “Well if that’s the case…” he hinted.
“You shut your mouth, Draco Malfoy. You need to get to the hospital wing or you’ll be covered in scars!” you hissed and picked up your face, but couldn’t help the small smile that had placed itself on your lips which Mr. Malfoy couldn’t help but notice.
“We can’t fully appreciate a picturesque sunset if we’re wishing it would never rain again. We can’t fully enjoy a moment of true connection if we’re wishing we’d never feel alone again. We can’t fully savor a relaxing day if we’re wishing we’d never be busy again. The key to happiness is to focus less on making moments last and more on making the moments count.” ― Lori Deschene, Tiny Wisdom: On Mindfulness
(A/N) The fam wanted some sub!Ken and, boy howdy, I was more than WILLING to give! To spice things up, I made this a Ballet AU because why the hell not? He’s my ult and he deserves a cool AU! (ps i just busted the fattest nut for this gif holy cow)
The orchestra struck the first note of the grand pas de deux boldly, as it should be, opening up the scene for the audience who were already scooting closer in their seats to catch a glimpse of what was to come. For this particular ballet, which contained numerous modern and adult concepts like love, sex, control, and the power struggle between two lovers, was not only a dance, but a song as well; a song of both your bodies and voices that captured the essence of the characters’ relationship. It was the first time in the entire show that you and your partner were to sing, being the last characters in the plot to showcase your voices to the audience who wanted to know if you both could dance and sing. Critics in the crowd were ready to pick you apart, ready to write columns about how you were nothing more than dancers who could maybe carry a tune when asked. But you had a fiery anger in your heart, defiance lifting your chin as you strode out elegantly toward center stage, ready to prove those ruthless columnists wrong.
You heard numerous audience members gasp as you glided to the middle, performing several intricate dance passes while they gawked at your stage outfit which was innovative and daring for a ballet. Much of your skin was exposed, save for your breasts and tutu, and the audience members soon understood the sexual nature of this grand pas de deux when your partner and danseur breached the stage.
Taehyung could not feel, after he fell from heaven.
Stripped of his wings and tossed from paradise, he had nothing but the scars on his back as a remembrance of glory. Taehyung was bare, and simultaneously empty. Because with his wings went his purpose.
What reason for being could he cling to? What use was a fallen angel?
He realized that these were the questions mortals must ask themselves all the time. But he had no idea how to be mortal; no idea how to find an answer.
Until he met you.
It was from you that Taehyung learned the meaning of ‘seduction’. Once, it been merely a word; three syllables full of connotations that would repulse any holy being. As it turned out, however, he was not a holy being anymore. And you did anything but repulse him.
From the very beginning, you were nothing short of tantalizing. He found he was unable to keep himself away from you. Sex dripped from you like honey, begging him to come savor the proverbial forbidden fruit. Everything - your commanding presence, velvet-soft voice, sly, humorless smile, and especially your eyes that burned with promises of darkness - pulled him from your orbit and directly into your atmosphere.
Poor Taehyung never stood a chance.
Even the lightest graze of your fingers on his skin sent him in a spiral. Being touched by you was like being awakened from the dead.
And so he found in you, his tempter, that something he was looking for: satisfaction.
Of course, Taehyung looked for fulfillment elsewhere, in the beginning. The boy couldn’t escape the shame he felt after a night wrapped up in your sticky sweet words and searing touches. You made him feel positively sinful. And so he scoured the earth for a new glimpse of meaning, a sliver of hope for his fallen soul.
All was in vain, however. Satisfaction existed nowhere for him but in the silk of your sheets, the warmth of your touch, the scent of your skin. And so he is at your door again, shame giving way to pure need when greeted with your twisted smirk.
‘Don’t you want me?’ he dares.
You did. You always did. Because Taehyung was just so obedient. You had had your share of lovers, but none seemed so designed to please as the angel shivering in anticipation before you. Under the ever-present blush was the most pliant of creatures - willing to sin for you in any way you required.
‘Your mouth,’ you demanded, pushing him to his knees. And he was eager - so eager - to comply. As he made exquisite use of his own lips, he reveled in the blasphemies falling from yours. ‘Oh God, Taehyung, yes.’ The sounds of your rapture invariably inspired his own. As he listened to the cacophony of mingled moans reaching its peak, Taehyung found that he longed for the heavenly chorus no more. All that he craved was the harmonies of your pleasure, the beat of your heart, for his music.
‘Lay back,’ you had instructed him on another occasion. His hands were tethered to the headboard with the silk tie of your robe. Despite the softness of the material, the bonds were tied tight enough to abrade his delicate skin as he pulled against it. God, the pain was delicious. With the ache in his wrists and another tie over his eyes, you finally -finally- took what you wanted. You watched him writhe and gasp underneath you, drinking in the beautiful picture his debauchery made. The only only sight prettier to you than Taehyung submitting was seeing how desperate he was to do it.
‘Good boy,’ you panted, gliding your hips faster. You dragged your nails across his chest and drank in his lascivious moan. ‘Good boy.’
His gasps became more desperate. Unconsciously, the boy pulled at his restraints, rubbing his skin raw in the process. You knew his body well enough to know what he wanted, but you kept on with your ministrations, waiting for him to tell you himself.
‘I-I, I want- oh my God, I’m gonna-’ He was in too deep now, almost lost bathing in glory when- you pulled your body away from his, leaving him panting, aching, sobbing. ‘Mercy, mercy,’ he begs. You drink in his cries for release with a devilish grin.
‘Mercy? We both know you don’t deserve that, angel.’ And you pull him back in, leading him to the gates of heaven just to push him back down to hell again. Despite his pleas, you knew he relished in this game just as you did. He really was your favorite toy.
It was sin, he knew, but you made it so sweet that he could taste the savor for days following. Until you finally gave in to his wanton pleads, indulging the desires of his flesh once again. He needed it; he needed you. Because with your lips on his and your hands around his throat, he found paradise.
Memes and gifsets are lovely but I want to talk about this damn show. I want to rip it to wonderful pieces. Noah Hawley did the nearly impossible thing of presenting an eight episode story I could still be contemplating is discussing up to the day another season comes out. Let’s not waste it.
Who wants to talk about character, structure, texture, fabric of story? Of time that is space that is time? Of the ballad of David’s t-shirts and what was up with the goat or the guy in the vines or that time in Chapter 1 where I swear Kissinger touched Syd-as-David’s face and nothing happened!
If you want to talk about Legion, not just heart and reblog and now and then tag but TALK. I will follow your blog, or read your fanfiction, or view your art. And I will leave comments meaty enough to savor for days. But first engage me. Tell me what you think, not just what you like. Tell me a viewpoint you watched from that I’ve never thought of. Tell me what is real. Tell me why stories matter and why this story matters more than most.
So reblog, I guess if you feel the same. But more importantly, talk. Ask me something, comment, tag me on a conversation with depth I’m not in on.
This show deserves more than passive fandom. Let’s do this old school.
“So are we just gonna watch snippets of that tv shows?” Loco whispers in your shoulder eyes barely focused on what you chose to watch and more focused on savoring this moment’s rest from day to day activities.
“No,but when on a random ass Tuesday afternoon the good shows are scarce.” You smiled at the throaty laugh hyukwoo emitted and the heart-warming buzz that vibrated on your back made you cuddle deeper in the cover and your man’s chest.
You finally settled on an random channel of some guys playing pranks on each other. “You always do that when we chill babe” loco said at random in the faintest of tones. Humming in confusion about what you do so often that he claims it as one of your traits. “You press into me everytime I laugh and pull my arms around you” you scoffed playfully, you knew it was true but you didn’t hear a complaint. “Not my fault you’re hot as hell. You produce so much heat.” It was more of a compliment than it sounded so you sigh out a whispered “I like it” and rubbed your arms against him.
It wasn’t like these things happened often either. Not really because he was at work all the time cause in reality he wasn’t but mostly cause the relationship was still fresh and the comfortability level you two had was still growing. So he only came over when it was really convenient for the both of you. Like today. No work, no worries, phones off, strutting with no pj’s on, comfy shit like that.
“Last night was really……reassuring.” Referring to how those at the company reacted when you popped up to take loco home with you, it went better than you could think but with a company like AOMG you really didn’t need to expect the worst. “Yeah… I don’t even know what had us so worried. Like you really had a sister thinking shit was real. Acting all suspect and shit.” You both laugh and relax back into the bed. Both you and loco had been keeping the relationship under reps for more than one reason but all to no avail apparently when Jay had already suspected him dating “I knew you were too happy to not be getting laid on the regular” he laughs and slaps the shit out of locks back. Damn. Think back at it made you laugh to yourself.
“Will you stop?” You hear loco whine from behind you. “Stop what? Laughing?” You asked confused to what he wanted to stop. “No. Grinding your ass on me. Stop” you can’t help but laughs at the absurd accusations. “I am not grinding my ass on you. I barely moved” scoffing at him and shaking your head. You stretch into a move comfy position “You’re Doing It Again” Loco grips your hip with his free hand in a lazy attempt to ‘stop’ you. “Hyukwoo chill” you laugh at him and his ridiculous whine. You didn’t really think that you were grinding on him but know that you have the upper hand, might as well use it.
You fake a yawn to arch your back and in the process shoving your ass into Locos crotch. “I know your doing this on purpose Y/N, now stop” ohhh so he wanna dom huh? You think in a mischievous way and press more into him “I don’t really know what your talking about. But if you don’t wanna cuddle then that’s fine” loco sighs in defeat replacing his arm around your waist “I don’t know why I try and fight you?” He admit. You turn over to sit up and face him sporting your little smirk “cause you know where it’ll get you”
Loco smiles up at you and holds her hand. He smooths his thumb on the back of your hand and musters up the cutest expression in his disposal “where does it get me?” You chuckles and lean down to peck his lips. His hands leaves yours when you swing your legs over his hips and rest your torso on his. He drags his arms on your lower back and absentmindedly played with the fabric of the shirt. You peppered his cheeks and lips with kisses knowing how much he loved getting pampered and you loved pampering him. Your kisses trailed to his neck and you remembered the newly access to mark him up as freely as you like. You went all in, that includes sucking hickies into his neck and niddlind at his ear while he whines and gets helplessly hard under you. “Hyukie… I love you” you said randomly and your heart warms at how Loco glows with happiness “I love you too baby”
He goes in for the kiss this time and you both practically eat each others mouth out for a while as things get heated. Your soon enough stripped to your only your bar and him in nothing at all. His throbbing cock is pressed snug against his lower stomach and your wet folds. The ridges and veins massages across your clit and you quickly saturated his dick with your wet lips. You ride his dick this way until your both slippery and sticky from your on self lube. He stretch over to your dresser and pulls out and strip of condoms before ripping one off and handing it to you. You take the condom and roll it in slowly unconsciously biting your lip “have I ever told you how sexy you look while putting on a condom?” He breathes out obviously riled up, you nods once your done “yeah, but only every time I do it” you joked, slapped his thigh, and kissed his lips. You never missed that look of relief he got when you enveloped his cock in you. Or how he hung to your hip like his life depended on it. And his long sigh and breathy heaving when he finally took a breath from holding it when he cums. You rested on his damp chest and slowed you hips to ride out your high.
This was a good week, you came out with your relationship with loco, was accepted by his company with warm arms, finally got to spend a quiet evening in with him, and you know…sex is all way the icing. After 4 months of sneaking around it feels so refreshing to just let loose and love. Really love. There was still 6 hours till 11:00 and the pizza shops were open so aftercare consisted of pizza, cinnamon twist, nakedness, and laughing at reruns of ‘Show Me The Money’. “You gonna eat the last last slice, chocolate” loco said pointing to the almost empty pizza box at the foot of the bed “hyukwoo what did I tell you about calling me chocolate, just because I’m black doesn’t mea-” “-oh stop you know the only reason I call you that is because of that one time we were fooling around in the kitchen and you let me lick chocolate off your-” “okay okay have the last slice damn” he chuckled at you and downed the pizza slice.
“Babe?” Hyukwoo wraps pulls you close to his bare chest and held your hand. You hummed in response ready for him to talk. “I think I got my second winning” you were confused until you felt his thick rod poke your back. You smile and turn to him “ring the bell cause we going for round 2 baby” you say before he rolls over you. This is exactly how you celebrate the coming out of a relationship.
A/N Someone sent a message about a sad/fluff with (normal) Ryan so here you go! Also I wrote this listening to Give Me Love and Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran on repeat, so might help set the sad mood if you listen too!
Pairing: Ryan x Reader
You couldn’t help but let your fingers glide over his skin. Making their way gently into his hair, playing with a few strands as your fingers slipped through. You never slept a lot at night, more of a late morning person. You enjoyed being awake at this time though. It felt even more personal with just you and Ryan. Though he was fast asleep, you still whispered things to him. Sometimes it was about things that happened to you that day that you never got around to saying when he was awake. Sometimes it was secrets you’d never tell anyone but you needed to vocalize.
Your fingers once again danced around his skin, gliding down his cheek, stroking his stubble, cupping his neck before trailing down his shoulder and chest. You laughed quietly as Ryan mumbled something in his sleep, his eyes squinting and mouth curling up into a slight smile.
I feel like as if I was pregnant again, like ONE WEEK LEFT until the baby is coming. You’re just in waiting, So so so ready to your baby to be here already, but also savoring the last days of calm because after that there will be no sleep no more and your baby is gonna be the center of your world. You’re nesting, preparing the last things to do, prepare yourself because you know it’s never be the same again.
Studying at the Garrison wasn’t so bad; you get an enriched education, and ample pilot simulating practice in. But the scenery was a bit… stale, for lack of a better term. It was a good thing they let you go for a month break each semester, or you’d probably lose your mind in the desert. You made sure to savor every day you had outside the desert, in the fresh air, even though on this particular day, it was stifling.
“God, it’s so hot, I’m practically melting.” You say, running your hand through your hair, and lifting it away from your neck in an attempt to cool yourself down.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess you’re pretty hot.” Hunk says, smirking when you throw your head back to him with a look. You shake your head and punch his arm, “you think you’re so smooth.” You laugh along with him, and he rubs his arm.
“You know you love it.” He winks at you before he lays back down in the grass.
A few more minutes pass with your chatter, discussing the first night of Shark Week together, and him jokingly suggesting to go to the beach, you’re saved by the ever-so-familiar music of the ice-cream truck passing through the neighborhood.
“How about I get you ice cream and you drop this, okay?” You say, getting up before he could argue with you. The music stops as you order the soft serve you know Hunk likes, just as a peace offering. Hunk watches after you, slowly pulling himself up off the ground to follow you.
The car starts up again, the music blaring as you hand over the money in exchange for the ice cream. You turn to Hunk, the car taking off behind you as you hand him the cone that’s already beginning to melt. The both of you return to your original places in the shade of a small dogwood tree on the lawn. You lick at the lip of the cone, trying to prevent your ice cream from dripping onto your fingers, and Hunk does the same.
“You know, [y/n],” he starts around a mouth full of ice cream, fighting off the cold against his teeth, he plucks up a dandelion from his side.
Holding out the flower to you, he grins, and you get an idea of where this is going.
“Hunk, if you-” But Hunk is quicker to the punch.
“If you were a flower, you’d be a DAMNdelion.” You almost cringe, if it weren’t for the laugh that shakes through your shoulders.
“You’re such a dork.” You say, licking your ice cream before smearing it on Hunk’s nose.
“Yeah, but I’m your dork.” He says, licking it off.