see the heat this summer

VIRGO: So, you’re finally figuring out where the pieces of your life are supposed to fit together and ‘relief’ is a bit of an understatement. There was a time in which your existence felt a lot like trying to finish a puzzle while blindfolded: all of the parts within reach yet, still so far away. But you kept going and you found yourself again and I hope that you’re proud. I hope that when you go to sleep at night you feel comfortable with your decisions and all of the things you’ve been strong enough to overcome. I can’t promise that you won’t find yourself faced with broken things in need of fixing again, but I can promise that you’ll be able to put it back together. You always do.

LIBRA: It seems like every time you leave the house nowadays you brace yourself for impact, which is another way of saying that you’ve had to abandon being soft in order to survive. You’ve had to use your voice to ask for things that your earlier self would’ve shoved under the carpet. And while that’s definitely something to be proud of, the strength you’ve found within yourself, don’t let that close you off to all of the joy that accompanies being kind and open. It’s possible to stand your ground with open palms; asking for what you deserve and embracing the gentler aspects of life aren’t mutually exclusive. They never will be unless you let them.

SCORPIO: I know that it’s hard to refrain from comparing yourself to every person you meet, but you have to remember that not everybody has had the same background as you. Not everybody understands the feeling that comes with being told you’re not good enough, or the feeling of realizing that the people you thought were friends had been bringing you so far down that your back was flat against the floor. You haven’t fallen behind or lost your way just because you’ve had to take a few detours in order to find yourself. You’re trying your best, and your best is more than good enough. Someday you’ll be grateful that you kept on fighting.

SAGITTARIUS: Recently you felt the spark that can only ever mean something is beginning; it’s unfortunate that sometimes this also indicates that another thing is ending. And while that’s typically sad, an event you’re bound to mourn, every closed door is an opportunity to turn yourself around and have an experience that you wouldn’t normally. Eras will end as you continue to grow into yourself, and that doesn’t mean that they’re THE end. Be self-aware and work some more on loving yourself as you embrace these fresh starts and their accompanying lifestyle changes; there’s nothing shameful about being a fan of yourself.

CAPRICORN: One of the hardest things you’ll ever have to learn is that sometimes people leave and there isn’t a reason or a motive behind it, they just go. And that doesn’t mean that you did anything to instigate this, or that you push where others pull; it just means that because of whatever external reason, something wasn’t quite right. There’s no reason to make lists of all the people that you feel you’ve driven away when there are others beside you that are supportive, wanting only to shower you in the affection that you dole out so generously. The way that your peers choose to exit your life is always going to be a choice that they make themselves. You are not a burden.

AQUARIUS: You don’t have to treat every beautiful thing that waltzes into your path as if it’s temporary, bound to disappear as soon as you look away. I know that it’s hard to take good fortune with anything other than a grain of salt after everything you’ve lost, but perpetually being in a state of worry when you have no reason to be so is ridiculous. Your potential for happiness is so much greater than you’re allowing yourself to have. There aren’t limits or rules when it comes to the progress you make and the people you invite into your life. If you spend all of your time walking on eggshells, you’ll never able to leave your mark. Be bold. Be genuine.

PISCES: You’ve been taking happy vibes to the next level lately and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I know occasionally you start thinking that maybe you don’t deserve to be feeling this light, or that there are more pressing aspects of your life that you should be devoting your attention to, but what you’re doing right now is more than okay. It’s encouraged, in fact. Try not to hold yourself to a higher standard than you would hold the people that you love to. The perfectionist that shows up within you very once in awhile to make unnecessary comments about your progress isn’t the boss of you, you’re the boss of it. Allow yourself to be happy without any strings attached.

ARIES: It always takes time to adjust to a situation that you’ve never been in before, especially when you’re doing it all by yourself. Don’t forget that you’ve seen and conquered cities much bigger than this one. I know that everything in you wants to make a snap judgement regarding whether or not you like the direction you’re walking in, but try to refrain from doing so too soon as it could change your perception of an otherwise lovely experience. Give this road a chance before re-routing and switching courses altogether. Listen to your gut, you know more than anybody else what will benefit you most in the long run.

TAURUS: Are your days really blurring together, or are you so afraid of feeling something new that you’re hiding behind the safety of monotony? Sure, you’re stuck in more than a couple of ways, nobody’s denying that you’ve faced more than your share of quicksand. But something you should consider is how your actions play into that. I think there’s a sort of comfort in being stationary, as you know exactly what to expect, but I also think that you deserve a better quality of life than you’re currently getting and some of the responsibility for changing that rests on your shoulders. Try something new this month and see what happens next.

GEMINI: The heat of summer has peaked and descended and you’re finally able to leave the house without getting burned. This means that it’s time to refamiliarize yourself with your surroundings, because in the midst of life and all its trials I think you’ve forgotten about what’s in front of you. Examining the ground that your feet touch day after day, with eyes that are wise and observant and actually looking, can lead to revelations about yourself. I know that you’ve felt the holes in your life as of late and you’ve been looking for something to fill them, and the materials to do this are closer than you think. You might already be holding them.

CANCER: It’s really easy to overthink your choices when you’ve become accustomed to exposing the soft parts of yourself only to be handled roughly and without the right amount of care. And yet despite your history of hurt you’re still choosing to try again, which says a lot more about you than other people’s actions ever could. Nobody is going to hate you for laying bare your heart and soul, and if they do then that means they don’t deserve to see it anyways. You are allowed to feel proud of your accomplishments and you’re allowed to be vocal about it. Don’t be hesitant with self praise and accepting it from others. Everyone’s rooting for you.

LEO: Your environment lately has been hectic, to say the least, and that’s starting to take a toll on you more than you can probably see. I know that it feels as though you don’t have time to take a break, and that in order to cross-off every task on your never-ending to-do list you need to constantly be on the run, but that’s just your anxiety talking. While time is a constant wave that we’re all riding, that doesn’t mean you can’t lay back and enjoy the view as you float. Caring for yourself will never be detrimental to your progress, as the health of your mind and body are crucial when it comes to success. Give yourself a break for not being a superhero.

When I fly I always want the window seat;
so I can watch city streets hum with headlights at night like haemoglobin flowing through veins. So I can look out and see the vast horizon quivering in the haze of summer heat. So I can see the shorelines of this land meeting the brine of the great blue ocean tides; little miniature white ripples breaking out on the boundless glimmering water - boats carving out ephemeral trails on their journeys. So I can see rivers and tributaries turn into estuaries and meet the sea like ancient friends joining hands. So I can see the glow of a sunrise or a sunset light a fire in the sky with its warm tones - painting the world with the most heartbreakingly exquisite pastels. So I can see the vast and colourful countryside divided into patchwork, like a quilt stitched from the hands of god, or some divine force bigger than we could possibly conceive. So I can see the mountains of green and brown erupting from the ground, casting darkly mysterious shadows into divots and gullies. So I can rise above the clouds and gaze upon the endless azure sky that overwhelms me with its brilliance and reminds me how infinitesimal I really am.
I always want the window seat;
So I can realise the complete majesty that surrounds me, and so that I can see -
So that I can see that while I’m not religious - there is clearly something greater than mere humanity, and it has given us the most wondrous of gifts; simply to exist here in this miraculous realm.
—  “So I can see” // @rarasworldbro

anonymous asked:

maybe a bit silly to ask but how would kaminari kirishima bakugou and todoroki hcs of their reactions towards their s.o who just can't handle the heat and has to take off their shirt and sleep only in panties bcs the heat is unbearable. #it me rn

Bakugou Katsuki: Bakugou has never minded the heat, so he doesn’t get the big deal, and would probably complain you’re being dramatic. He wouldn’t force you to cover up because he’s getting an eyeful, of course, but he insists the heat isn’t that bad and you’ll live through it.

Kaminari Denki: Kaminari is right there with you in the suffering, constantly shedding his shirt and sometimes his pants in hopes of cooling off in the heat. He likes to either be directly in front of a fan in the summer or swimming in the pool/ocean so he can stay cool, so he wouldn’t judge you for stripping your clothes.

Kirishima Eijirou: Kirishima always laughs when he sees you’ve stripped down because he lives for the summer heat; he can’t get enough of it! You wouldn’t be shocked if you saw him walking down the street in a hoodie and sweat pants, not sweating at all (he doesn’t actually do this, of course).

Todoroki Shouto: If he couldn’t self-regulate his body temperature than he probably wouldn’t like the heat much either, so he doesn’t judge you for not wanting to wear your clothes. He tries his best to keep you cool while he’s around you, suggesting a box fan or even an air conditioner to help when the heat gets too extreme. 

Gesundheit 1/1

This is my very silly, probably hugely OOC and fairly NSFW response to this weeks challenge set by @txf-prompt-box

Must be included - “What are you holding behind your back?”

Bonus - It’s not Mulder or Scully saying it.

Double bonus - The thing behind the back is…trouble! Tagging @today-in-fic

Gesundheit 1/1

I have never really considered myself the kind of person who readily shows any kind of extreme emotion on my face, and just for a moment I am transported back to a distant Dallas rooftop where the sun threatened to bake us both alive and where my partner and I enjoyed a few moments of playful banter before our world imploded and everything went to hell.

My panic face.

The one I told Scully didn’t exist.

The one I am pretty fucking sure I am making right now as I stand and stare at my boss who is frowning at me from his position not two feet away from where a wet spot is darkening the hue of the carpet slightly; evidence of some office-based fun that, while a nice way to break up the monotony of a boring day, could, if he notices, send Scully and I straight out the door and into a state of FBI infamy even more pronounced than where we already are.

Because fucking your partner on your office floor during the working day is frowned upon believe it or not; and why we swore we would never indulge in such a ridiculously dangerous pursuit when our relationship went from friend to lover in the blink of an eye and which has continued to gather pace like an out of control steamroller.  We agreed that lines should be drawn right from the start to retain at least some semblance of professional etiquette and for the most part we have managed to stay within those lines.  

But we are only human and while it would be easy to blame Scully for wearing one of those low-cut stretchy tops that when she bends down practically expose her nipples for the world to see or the fact that the heat of the DC summer had encouraged the wearing of those lace-topped stockings that seem to somehow hold themselves up with no apparent help or even that she whispered that she might just wear them for me later if I was a good fibbie and finished the stack of expense reports that had kept us imprisoned in the basement on this glorious day, but truthfully, we didn’t really need any other reason than we simply wanted each other; and that we couldn’t wait.

And I have to admit that the sight of Scully, head thrown back as her glorious ass sent expense reports flying in all directions when she hoisted herself onto the desk, severe pencil straight skirt rucked up to expose demure white cotton panties with just a hint of lace that were already damp with the evidence of her desire, made any semblance of rational thought just bleed right from my brain as my dick took complete control of the situation at hand.

I had dropped to my knees, hooking my arms beneath her smooth white thighs and I’m pretty sure I was growling like a dog in possession of his favourite toy as I drew her toward me and discarded her delicate undergarment with a well practised flick of my wrist before diving straight in with all the enthusiasm of a starving man suddenly plonked down in front of an ‘all you can eat’ buffet and handed a spoon.

I love eating Scully out because not only does she taste like fucking ambrosia, but also because it’s one of the only times I ever see her fully lose control of that rational, scientific mind of hers as she emits the kinds of noises from that sweet mouth that for years I fantasised about without any real hope of ever discovering firsthand how vocal she may or may not be; but be assured that the reality exceeds the fantasy in every way imaginable and slipping my fingers inside the soft, wet warmth of her while strafing her clit with my tongue is a bit like a homecoming each time and if I live to be a hundred years old I will never tire of how it makes me feel.

Now, I didn’t intend for this whole thing to be a reciprocal arrangement because frankly, when I felt her inner walls contract around my fingers as she tensed and shuddered her way through - if I do say so myself- a skillfully induced work day orgasm, I was well pleased with myself and pretty tickled that she had been the one to instigate the whole thing despite her long list of ‘do’s and don’ts in the office with your erstwhile platonic-but-not-platonic-anymore partner’  But it seemed like the post-orgasmic Scully that literally dragged me to the floor while furiously scrabbling to free my cock from the confines of the expensive dress pants that were tenting to such an extent that I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find a whole troupe of boy-scouts singing ‘ging gang goolie’ while toasting marshmallows around a campfire,  was in the grip of an endorphin rush of x-filean levels and she had no intention of taking no for an answer.

I obliged of course, I mean it would hardly be gentlemanly of me to refuse now would it?

And so I experienced, for the first time the combined agony and ecstasy as my partner grinned at me wickedly over her shoulder as she pushed that delectable little ass in the air in implicit invitation, and the feel of that cheap nylon carpet that stripped the skin off my knees with every thrust.  I wasn’t about to complain though - I mean, what’s a little pain between friends right?

I didn’t last long, certainly not my finest performance at any rate, but Scully didn’t seem to mind as she met me thrust for thrust as the sound of my balls slapping against her filled the space around us and she seemed to pull me deeper and deeper with every stroke until my mind literally went blank and white heat sent me spiralling in a vortex of pleasure that literally had me bellowing her name as I exploded into her.  

Thank fuck our office is in the basement is all I can say because I think the level of my vocal release could have roused J Edgar himself from his eternal slumbers.

And really, that should have been that.  The shit-eating grin on my face as I watched Scully rise gracefully to her feet, adjusting her skirt and running her fingers through her hair as she exited the office - I’m guessing to clean up some - should have been the only evidence of our daytime indiscretion.  

Until that is, I looked up from where I had stooped to retrieve her panties from where they still lay on the floor from earlier and, in a truly bowel-loosening moment of horrified clarity, I realised Skinner had entered the office without knocking.

My boss.

In front of me. 

While I am holding my partners dampened panties in my hand.

I mean this is my fucking boss - and he isn’t known for his sense of humour.

So I do the only thing that makes sense, I thrust my hands behind my back like a naughty kid caught next to an empty cookie jar, feeling that panic face I mentioned earlier overtake me as I force myself to keep breathing.

“What are you holding behind your back?”

Think Mulder….say something for fucksake…anything….


Skinner takes a step toward me, his shoe now covering that spot on the carpet that I probably should have blotted out straight away.


My mouth is completely dry, I mean I have faced assassins and managed to retain more saliva than I have right now and I actually feel kind of like I need to puke right there on his shiny Assistant Director shoes.

“Are you feeling alright Mulder?”

And there it is - inspiration finally fights it’s way up through the hysterical fog that has invaded my brain - as I bring the hand holding that scrap of white cotton upto my nose and with a fake sneeze that is frankly worthy of a fucking emmy award, I vigorously rub them against my nose before balling them up and shoving them in my pocket.

“Hayfever”  I supply helpfully, somewhat more in control than I was thirty seconds ago, “Pollen count is really high today.”

Skinner’s eyes drop to my pants pocket, brow furrowed as though he isn’t quite sure what he just saw.

“Lace edged Mulder?”

“It’s Scully’s she….um…she leant it to me.”

He still stands there and for the first time I notice the file he is holding in his hand.

“Did you need us for something sir?”

He inclines his head slightly and I swear to God he is sniffing the air and then he suddenly steps away from the desk, waving the file before tossing it toward me at chest level and somehow, I manage to not fumble it.

“I need you to take a look at this and let me know if it’s of interest.  I expect an answer within the hour.”

He turns to go, pausing just as he reaches the open door but not looking around, his final words ringing in my ears even as he walks away.

“And Mulder? Make sure Agent Scully is once more in full possession of that handkerchief BEFORE you leave this office.  Do I make myself clear?”





FLUFF: Hoodie

ANGST: Phone Conversation 

Jaebum [JB]

FLUFF: Modern ArtStress Ball

SMUT: Sweet Punishment / Summer Heat / Seeing is Believing ft Jinyoung / Kitten


FLUFF: Surprises  / Badass 


FLUFF: Days Off

SMUT: Cleaning / Seeing is Believing ft Jaebum [JB]


FLUFF: Make-Up


FLUFF: Chocolate Croissant / Via SNS Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 

ANGST: Immature


Seokjin [Jin]

FLUFF: A Lifetime of Flowers

Jeon Jungkook




FLUFF: Fingertip Confessions

North Carolina Gothic
  • The statues at the Capitol are in slightly different positions every time you see them, but no one else seems to notice. You must be imagining things, they say. You don’t imagine the statue with bared teeth, staring straight at you.
  • People joke about the football team rivalries, pretend it’s all friendly camaraderie. It wasn’t very friendly when two boys died while walking home from the big game last week. Make sure your children stick close.
  • Construction has been going on on the road by your house for years. Sometimes in the middle of the night you hear jackhammers. The road will never be completed. 
  • Every soda comes out tasting like Cheerwine. You don’t like Cheerwine. You drink it anyway.
  • Rich kids come every year from the north to go to school. It’s a test, to see if they can make it through the summer heat. None of them last. No one misses them.
  • The wind whistles through your hair at the Outer Banks and you shiver, looking down at the footprints in the sand. Nothing human is big enough to make those footprints. You hear a faint cry in the distance, but it is muffled by the waves crashing onto the shore. When you look down again, the footprints are gone.
  • Yellow fever, they call it, the pollen that invades every year, coating houses and cars and the inside of your lungs. You don’t remember what it’s like to be clean. You cover your mouth with a damp rag and stuff cloths under doorframes, but it’s never enough. You can taste it in your esophagus. 
  • The fields howl at night, when you were little your mama told you it was just the wind. You would sleep with your fingers pressed into your ears, telling yourself it was just the wind, and trying not to think about the bobcats surrounding your house.
Rose-Red City as Old as Time

This is my entry for the prompt: Out of Place for the the Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon organized by the @thebookjumper.  Set after 5x23.  Thanks to @candykizzes24 for the amazing edit and to @missyriver and @nalla-madness for reading and encouraging.. I hope you like it!

The camel jostled back and forth, and Felicity was having a hard time dealing with the swinging motion.  After the first hour, her body was still not becoming one with the large animal underneath her, the rocking gesticulation was making her nauseous.

Scanning the narrow path that is the Siq, she noted that their caravan was now walking in a fissure made up of continuous walls of pink layered rock formations separating two tectonic plates; Felicity felt dwarfed and very claustrophobic.

Her gaze wandered to her right, meeting intense blue eyes.  It was ridiculous how good Oliver looked sitting astride his camel.  He just totally fit within the element. Watching him in his khakis and white Bedouin head cover was like seeing her own version of Rick O’Connell ready to conquer the desert. His golden tan, and the way his hands held the reins, his body one with his ride, you would think he grew up in this part of the world.

Felicity giggled, there were no mummies or secret treasures on this adventure, Petra was a city carved from rose rock under sea level, eternal, beautiful and alone, it offered the perfect solitude their crazy life was lacking!

Being in the heart of Wadi Rum, she never thought she would feel more out of place, the desert reminded her of Vegas.  The worn rocks on either side were reminiscent of the Grand Canyon and the incessant sun and heat was just as scorching.

“How much more?” she asked the little guide who held the reins of her camel.

“One hour!” he replied in a heavy accented English.

After their impromptu wedding, they decided to continue their world tour for their honeymoon.  Felicity wanted to see Petra, and the Red Sea; and although she had read the brochures she had no idea how much tourism websites failed to address how extraneous the journey was, as what they considered part of the mystery.  Apparently, after a four-hour car ride, they had to ride horses for two hours just to get to the entrance of the treasury, which was where Indiana Jones had filmed the last crusade, then it was camels for two hours more to reach the museum, then there was a trek up 365 steps to reach sea level so she can see the infamous split between the two continents of Asia and Africa and the promised Red Sea. As much as Felicity was looking forward to sight seeing, she was dreading this gigantic effort in the midst of summer heat.  Maybe this was a bad idea after all!

Felicity was flushed, even with her straw hat, tied under her chin with a wispy scarf, she had to admit she was wilting!

“How are you holding up?” Oliver asked

“Oh, you know, other than hot sweaty and soaking wet, I am completely fine!”

Oliver met her with a smirk and a raised eyebrow,

Realizing how that sounded, she was about to take it back with a massive babble, when the path opened to a great plaza and the caravan stopped.  It seems they were to pass some inspection point by the local authorities.

Two police officers with visible side arms approached them asking for their passports.  After scanning Oliver’s passport, the officer glanced up meeting what Felicity classified as the Green Arrow glare, then whispered something to his companion in Arabic.  “We need you to come with us,” they told Oliver.

“Is something wrong officer?” the officers exchanged looks,

“Would you please step down from your camel?”

Oliver and Felicity exchanged looks, Felicity was starting to get concerned. Oliver stepped down and stood towering over the officers who placed their hands over their weapons in response to his threatening stance.  Felicity was seriously worried now, this was no time to play the Green Arrow, they were unarmed and Olivers bow and arrows were safely tucked in their duffle bags strapped to the camels, plus did Oliver really want to cause an international incident at a famous world tourist site?

She motioned to the boy to bring down her camel.  As the camel squatted down, Felicity squealed.  “Oh sorry, I don’t know how anyone can get used to this” The officers were frowning now.

The officers looked at Olivers passport again, “Please calm down Mrs. Queen”  “We are just doing our jobs, please don’t resist this arrest”

“Arrest”? Oliver glowered, “On what basis?”

Keep reading


When Will goes into the cafeteria, a few people from the caravan are sitting around a big Formica table. Payton’s there too, and Ian, who sometimes leaves the compound on scouting missions. Will walks up to them casually, hands in his pockets, trying to act like he belongs.

Payton turns her head and smiles at him, scooting over a little to make room. He takes a seat on the bench, his hip just brushing hers. He tries to focus.

The group continues talking without acknowledging Will at all. “Stay out of Raleigh,” one of the men from the caravan is saying. In his seventies, with military posture and sharp cheekbones, he’s clearly the group’s leader; his companions all look toward him, and Will can sense their deference. “Some crazy jackass set up his own fucking kingdom there, some kind of cult. People don’t come back, and I don’t know if they’re joining up or getting killed, but we don’t want no part in it, either way.”

There are maps of the Eastern Seaboard spread out all over the table, with different handwriting on all of them. One is marked up all the way from Boston to Atlanta, with some complicated symbology and no key. It’s more secure that way, Will supposes, though he finds it frustrating to look at.

On his map, Ian marks a big red X over Raleigh. Payton’s was already marked.

“Where are you headed next?” Ian asks, idly tracing the area around their compound with his finger.

“The mountains,” the man says.

This shuts everyone up. “Come on,” Ian says finally. “You’ve got kids with you.”

He shrugs, running a hand through his cropped gray hair. “It’s an untapped market. It’s just business.”

“They’re killers.”

The man snorts. “You don’t know that. You’ve never been up there. Look, I know about Raleigh because I went to Raleigh. You’re all terrified of the mountains but none of you’ve got any clue what’s really there.”

The whole table gets to arguing, but Will sits in silence. Thinking. When he’s reached out toward the mountains, what has he actually felt? Fear and anger, sure, but that’s what he feels in the compound too, most of the time. Everyone’s afraid. Everyone’s angry. And it’s true that no one comes back, but there are a million possible reasons for that —

“It’s not like we can stop you,” Ian’s saying.

Payton pushes her map toward the center of the table. “This is my supply route,” she says, pointing to a highlighted line that snakes around the area. “Everything Ian’s saying is true.” She looks up at the caravan people, making eye contact with each of them in turn. “I’ve been to every town at the base of those mountains, and they all say the same thing. Nobody goes up there who comes back down.”

The man looks at Payton’s carefully annotated map, eyebrows raised in approval. “You could join us,” he offers. “It’d be safer than working on your own.”

She snorts. “Not if you’re going up there.”

“I’m just saying. We could use someone like you. Someone who knows the lay of the land down here.”

“I work better alone.” Payton smiles, baring her teeth. It could read friendly, if you’d never seen a human being smile before.

The man withdraws. “Suit yourself.”

They get back to comparing notes and maps, and when he doesn’t think anyone’s paying attention, Will runs his hand lightly over the closest map, touching his finger to a town not too far from the compound. He closes his eyes and reaches, keeping the town in his mind.

Sure enough, he starts to see. Low clouds, the threat of rain. Summer heat, sweat, dogs barking. An old Victorian house with a big fence outside and five families inside. A garden, and everything in it is dead, rotted in the ground. People starving. His eyes flicker open again, and the woman across from him looks hazy-eyed, unfocused. These were her memories, then. He’s glad it was her, not Payton. He’s never tried to read her; he never wants to.

Curious, he places his palm over the mountains. He shouldn’t get anything, none of them has ever been there, but —

Brown grass, dead trees. Smoke and something toxic in the air. Nothing living anywhere – not a person or a cat or a cockroach. And a glass tower, rising up from the ground like a scene from some bad sci-fi movie —

Will shakes his head, trying to clear it. When he opens his eyes he can’t tell who the vision came from, but it can’t be real. It’s not possible. Will is suddenly conscious of how little he knows about his own powers.

The woman from the caravan speaks up. Her voice is low and resonant; it makes Will wonder what she was Before. “It’s not just business.”

The old man looks to her and they have a silent conversation that makes Will wonder if he was wrong about who’s in charge here. She continues, “You know about the crop failures.”

For the first time, Ian and Payton both look to Will. Around the other side of the old college there’s a greenhouse, part of some horticulture program. They’ve filled it with fruits and vegetables, using soil Payton collects from abandoned hardware stores. Looters took all the knives and tools and lighter fluid in the first few weeks after, but everyone assumed that you could just get soil anywhere.

And now it’s the second summer after, after the bombs and the plagues, and still everything that comes from the ground is poison. The greenhouse is their secret, the thing that will save them. Or the thing that will get them killed.

“Yeah, we know,” Will said finally.

“The situation is different everywhere. The contamination is worse on the coast and in the valleys, so it stands to reason that it might be less at elevation. And that’s the highest elevation we’ve got access to.”

Payton frowns. “It’s a huge risk.”

Narrowing her eyes, the woman snaps, “We can’t live on canned food forever. I don’t know about you, but every raid we go on, we come back with less. If we can’t find untainted ground somewhere, we’re all dead. Including you.”

Before it gets dark, Will follows Payton out to her truck to help her unload. There’s not much today, but she digs around for a minute in the cab. Usually there’s nothing up there except her gear, so he can’t help feeling curious.

She emerges from the cab with a basketball, and she grins broadly – a real smile, this time – and spins it on her finger for a second. “Look what I found,” she says. “You said you’re good.”

Will gapes at her. Surely this isn’t for his benefit. He’s a weird nerd, and Caroline always calls him kid, but— “Yeah,” he says, “or I was, anyway.”

Payton looks at the horizon like she’s measuring the minutes until the sun sets, then tosses him the ball. He almost doesn’t catch it, he’s so flustered.

“One-on-one,” she says. “Let’s go.”

In the parking lot Will takes aim and shoots, listening to the rusty hoop clang as the ball hits the backboard. Payton’s quick and light on her feet, and he’s so busy concentrating on beating her that just for a minute, he forgets about the waning daylight, the darkness in their future,the fires still burning in the mountains.

Pharmercy - >800 words

The first time Angela sees it, Fareeha is doing pull ups, the muscles on her back contracting around her shoulder blades, the skin crinkling, distorting it.

Angela is so distracted, so unabashedly intent on her skin and the form in which she moves, she forgets to ask.

Honestly, she forgets quite a few things. When she retreats, brushing past Zarya in her haste, she does so with a blush that feels a bit ridiculous.

She is not entirely sure that Fareeha ever knew she was there. She is too ashamed to tell her. (She does not know that Zarya mentioned it, that Fareeha - grinning like a goofball - was particularly happy to hear that Angela had apparently been blushing.)


The second time Angela sees it, it is summer, the sweltering heat has made everyone lethargic. Angela has traded her lab coat for a tank top and loose pants.

She finds Fareeha in the courtyard, laying on her stomach in the grass, reading. If Angela is dressed liberally, Fareeha has dressed in abandon because she is only wearing a sports bra and basketball shorts.

Angela spends a moment tracing the lines of her calves, the dimples above the curve of her rear, the muscle of her shoulder blades (which Angela has a certain fascination with) and then stops on the tattoo between them, and remembers the question from before.

She approaches her, sits down beside her. Fareeha turns her head to the side to regard Angela through bright eyes, her chin tucked into the curve of her elbow. The book is laid out in the grass in front of her but Fareeha closes it when Angela sits down and Angela can see that it is poetry which is not entirely something that she expected, honestly.

“Hello,” Fareeha says, lifts her head up and smiles. Angela returns it easily, stretches her legs out in front of her, falls back on the palm of her hands.

“Hello there,” she replies.

“How are you?” Fareeha asks, “I feel like it has been awhile since I have seen you.”

It has been. Angela has been locked up in her lab, baking under fluorescent bulbs, for the better part of a month and her contact has been minimal. Fareeha had stopped by occasionally to drop off food and remind her to sleep (which Angela had done, begrudgingly). But in that setting, that frame of mind, it was hard for her to connect with her surroundings, and so Fareeha had come and gone and come again and Angela’s nose had been buried in reports and monitors so the visits were never casual and often very quick.

“Better, now,” Angela confesses. “I’m glad for the fresh air.”

“You picked a good day,” Fareeha tells her. Angela tends to agree, she has no complaints about the company.

For a long while they are silent as birds chirp and Fareeha goes back to her poetry. Angela’s glad just to be relieved of her responsibilities, to feel free as she so rarely does these days.

She looks around idly, sees the tattoo again on Fareeha’s back, and this time doesn’t stop herself from reaching for it, brushing her fingertips over the hot skin (warmed by the afternoon sun). It’s simple, geometrical even, made of dots and lines in white ink the shape of an arrow pointing up Fareeha’s spine until it stops at the the base of her neck.

Fareeha shivers below her touch as she draws over the lines.

“It’s very pretty,” Angela tells her, sincerely.

“Thank you,” Fareeha says, “it was my first tattoo.”

This piques Angela’s interest. Angela had always assumed that the one on her face had come first. It does not occur to her that there might have been others before, or others at all.

“Is there a story?” Angela asks. Fareeha grins, Angela can’t see it, but she can hear it her voice.

“Only vaguely. It’s a reminder, to always reach higher and to achieve greater things.”

“If it is a reminder, why the back?”

“Because that is where we carry things,” Fareeha tells her simply.

Angela cannot know Fareeha’s dreams of literally going higher, to touch with her own hands the stratosphere and to spend eternity in the vacuum of space, if possible. Those great wonders which inspire imagination, which had inthralled Fareeha as a kid. Maybe she will one day; maybe the conversation will come up again and she will talk at length about how she has always wanted to escape.

Angela hums in understanding, contemplative for a minute, and then she leans forward, places an open mouthed kiss above the arrowhead. Fareeha’s skin is warm and salty with the light sheen of sweat; Angela feels protective, responsible in someway for the burdens Fareeha carries. This leads her up the column of her neck and then to her cheek and then to her lips.

Fareeha kisses her back without complaint, though clearly perplexed.

“Very pretty,” Angela repeats and has the sense she is talking about more than just the tattoo this time.

voltron crew aesthetics +allura

Pidge: freshly cut grass// seeing the first sprouting tendril of something you planted// alien shirts// instant noodles in college// sitting precariously with your laptop pressed to your chest
Hunk: blowing dandelions// the feeling of heat and the sun on your shoulders when you leave an air conditioned building// the smell of a coffee shop// 2AM phone calls to your best friend// shopping lists with commentary on them
Keith: pulling headphones over your ears// ripping off a band-aid// the satisfaction and soreness of a workout the day after// tucking yourself into the dark corner of a room// counting the time it takes for the thunder to clap after you see lightning// the feeling of closure as you see the end of a tunnel
Lance: the first few droplets of rain that touch your face// swinging your feet by the pool side// the sound of a passing car deep into the night// standing on a hill watching the night life below you// quiet singing under your breath// letting the wind push your hair away from your face as you zoom down a highway
Shiro: peeling the wrapper off of new appliances// the cold metal of a bus seat// a sip of hot tea when you’re headache won’t go away// papers chaotically organized with rings of coffee stains// the soft hum of a fan in the stifling heat of a summer night
Allura: seeing new blooming flowers hiding behind old, rotting ones// running your fingers over the spine of old books// writing thank you notes// varied colored and types of sticky notes on walls// buying small souvenirs for your friends in dim gift shops

Part 1 of ?

i didn’t add coran this time but maybe next time. talk me to me about the crew and/or submit your aesthetics!

Imagine the Delancey Brothers Hitting on You

You stretch your arms high above your head. It’s been a long day at The World, and you’re glad to finally be outside. The evening air is cool, and all of New York City seems to be happy for a break from the mid-summer heat. Maybe you can see if any of the boys want to go to the park or something. You smile, noticing the breeze. Last week, you helped Les make a kite. You haven’t flown it yet, but tonight would be perfect for kite flying. There’s still about an hour before dark, so if you hurry-

Not watching where you’re going, you run smack into someone. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” you apologize.

“You better be!” the man you ran into sneers. You look up in shock at his words and realize that it’s Morris Delancey, and his brother Oscar isn’t far behind.

“Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise,” Oscar says, smirking and sauntering closer to you. That sets you on edge. You’ve been taught never to trust the Delanceys. “You’re that little secretary from upstairs, ain’t ya?”

You mutely nod, wishing they’d leave. If you were bolder, you’d tell them what you thought of them. But you are quite the opposite of bold.

“Yeah, the one that’s always hanging around the newsies,” Morris chimes in.

“So pretty, but such bad taste,” Oscar shakes his head.

Your heart is pounding so hard, you’re sure it’s about to fly out of your chest. “I’ve really got to go,” you quietly squeak, trying to leave.

“Aw, stay awhile, girly,” Morris grins sinisterly, catching you by the upper arm.

Oscar runs a hand over your (h/c) curls. “You leave now, an’ you’ll miss all the fun.”

“Let me go, or I’ll scream,” you threaten desperately, squirming and trying to break free.

“You do, an’ I’ll give you two black eyes,” Oscar sneers.

“Get your filthy hands off (y/n)!” a voice cries. Race comes running over. Not stopping to think, he tackles Oscar to the ground, landing punch after punch on the older boy. Race seems to have gone berserk!

You kick backwards, hoping to hit Morris. You finally connect with his shin, and he releases his hold on you. You spin around and kick him nice and hard where it hurts. He crumples to the ground in pain. Oscar isn’t faring much better. Race has almost pummeled him into the pavement.

“Let’s get out of here!” you cry and pull Race to his feet. He takes your hand, and you run faster than you ever have in your life. He suddenly jerks you into a dark alley. He presses you up against a wall with a hand on either side of you. Race is so close, less than an inch separates you.

You begin to speak but are reprimanded by a “Shh!” from Race.

“Higgins!” you hear one of the Delancys yell. Running steps pound past the alley.

Race keeps you there for a few more minutes, making sure that they’re really gone. You feel so safe, so secure in his arms. You wish you could stay there forever. You look up at him. In the dim light, you can see is cigar is missing. He probably stuffed it in his pocket before attacking Oscar. His cap is askew on his blond curly hair which is damp with perspiration from the fight. His blue eyes are focused on the street, trying to spot any danger that could be lurking there.

Finally, his eyes turn to you. “You alright, (y/n)?”

You nod. “They’re just big bullies.”

Suddenly, he leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead. He immediately seems embarrassed. “Well, let’s get ya home.”

You reach up and straighten his cap. The two of you still haven’t moved. A little shyly, you kiss his cheek. “Thanks for saving me, Race,” you whisper.

“Anythin’ for you, (y/n),” Race whispers back. “Anythin’ for you.”

It Takes Time

Prompt: Growth

Word Count: 1,152

Rated: T

This is the third drabble for @spdrabblebomb, for the third day’s prompt which is “Growth!” Posted to AO3 here.


“Ow, fuck!”

“Stanley!” A thunderous yell up the staircase rattled him and he cringed with his entire body. “Language!”

“Yeah, mom!” He yelled back, and he sighed, deflating into his crossed legs and tossing aside his dad’s old guitar now one string less. “How did she even hear that?” He muttered. He flopped onto his side and rolled to his back, taking a moment to stare at the water stain on his ceiling that Kenny said looked like a llama. He didn’t see it. He groaned.

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anonymous asked:

Idk if you're still doing prompts but maybe "You’re safe now. I’ve got you." for jackcrutchie, if you want?

Hi! I finally had a chance to write this! I actually have never read or written a JackCrutchie fic, but the ship is lovely and tbh idk why i haven’t gotten into it yet? I’m excited to give it a shot! I basically took the concept from the musical (when Jack mentions that he visited Crutchie, but he was too injured to even come to the window) and I changed it up a little to fit what I wanted. Feedback is appreciated!

79. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”


“Jack! Jack, HELP!”

Crutchie’s pained cries echoed in Jack’s ears as he quietly made his way to the Refuge, hidden in the dark shadows cast by the nearby buildings. He tried to move as quickly and as efficiently as possible, though he was afraid his own heartbeat pounding could possibly wake the guards with how loud it seemed inside his own head. He stopped for a moment, holding his shaking hand against his chest, attempting to calm himself so he could actually come up with a plan.

Taking a large breath, Jack continued on, pressing his back up against the occasional alley wall when he heard voices or saw lights heading in his direction. There was no way he was gonna let his best friend suffer in the Refuge alone while he got to wander free, though guilt stricken as he may be. He simply had to break him out. This whole situation was his fault anyway.

Sighing once more, Jack tried to push away the thoughts of the previous days. The police knocking Romeo off of his feet, Les staring in to his eyes, panicked and scared, Race attempting to take on Oscar and Morris Delancey by himself, Crutchie being hit with his own system of support, the strike falling apart right before Jack’s eyes.

Jack tried to drown out the ringing of the word failure repeating itself over and over again in his head.

“So much for good ol’ Cap’n Jack.” He muttered, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the refuge, a run down brick building with several dark windows scattered around the walls. There was absolutely no light coming from the structure, making Jack curse quietly as he hopped over a knocked over trash can and ran up to the side of the building, immediately backing up against a windowless section of the wall, taking a moment to come up with some sort of idea on how to reach Crutchie.

Glancing upward, Jack caught sight of the fire escape winding its way up toward to top of the Refuge. He pursed his lips. No kid caught in there would attempt to escape down the rickety old thing for fear of being heard, seen, or tattled on, but Jack had escaped Snyder once and he wasn’t afraid to do it again. He just had to have Crutchie with him this time.

God, Crutchie.

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In the arid mountains of the north and east, storms were awe. The precipitation unshed formed above in pale wisps, at first, against the dry blue arch of the sky. Then came the dark– the clouds curled into themselves in contractions that became expansion, drinking the moisture from the air– the heat and humidity turned the fingerprints of summer into bruises in the heavens.

As the clouds grew in size and deepened their colors, blanketing the sky, the Brothers knew what was to come. She had seen it, before she even understood what was happening. An afternoon would grow cool, and grey, and then she was suspended in strong arms, slung over muscled back and lifted high into the mountains, breath stolen as the world seemed to grow infinitely smaller.

Viscera remembered this, watching from her place at the edge of the forest, legs hanging from the limbs of a dark green tree. In the distance, over the carpet of verdance that would wither to become swamp in the miles and miles past, she could see the churn of whisp and bruise, where the heat of their steaming summer met the cold above.

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Some pictures from my visit to Shirakawa-go, the world heritage site that served as the basis for Hinamizawa–the village from Higurashi When They Cry.

Shirakawa-go is an incredibly beautiful place! It was great to be able to visit it in the heat of summer last year, and see in real life most of the specific locations from one of my favorite horror franchises. The lookout point, the bridge, the shrine… They’re all there, and the mountains and farmlands are all so grand and lovely. I strongly recommend spending a day there, if you get the chance to go to Japan!

Ok but imagine Ramsay Bolton down South/in Dorne/any place that has temperatures above 20 degrees Celsius ffs 

  • Staying in his chambers with all blinds shut, laying all sprawled out on his bed naked and saying that he’s dying.
  • When he sees a fountain he immediately puts his whole fucking head under the water for a solid minute
  • Making Reek fan him.
  • Why the fuck is everything so bright?  Every colour is so saturated??  w h A t  IS  T hiS
  • (Even more) stress eating bc he can’t handle the heat 
  • Every time we see him he has a cape and 30 layers so I would love to see how he copes with light shirts and stuff that is more appropriate for high temperatures. 
  • But still refusing to wear anything else than pink and black
  • Dead bodies rot so quickly in hot temperatures wtf?? 
  • But then again, the food is good so he isn’t as angry during dinner time B) 
  • Also, in Dorne he would be so confused about people treating bastards with the respect thEY DESERVE GDI

( @queenmakcr . @gentlestag . @cerseilionesslannister . @iamjoffreybaratheon tagging u guys bc reasons )

170722 Woohee Instagram Update

여름이니깐☉ 시쓰루~~~😀 또 흐린여름🌤 그랴도 더운건 마찬가지…🌞
#로만바실리 #romanevassilly

It’s summer☉ So see-through~~~😀 And it’s a cloudy summer🌤 Even so, the heat is the same…🌞
#Romanvassily #romanevassilly


 >> (other than the continually fabulous melissa mccarthy).

honestly I never make posts plugging films or tv shows because i’m just too lazy or don’t care enough, but i came back from watching this last night and havent stopped thinking about how fantastic it was.

ok so for those of you that don’t know, spy is essentially a movie about melissa mccarthy’s character susan cooper, whose a mild-mannered analyst for the CIA that ends up taking a field job that takes unexpected twists and turns. aside from being hysterically AND CONSISTENTLY funny (which so many comedy films lack, with the best parts already shown in the trailer!! not the case here!!) here are a couple reasons to spend $11 on seeing spy instead of anything else in theatres right now

aside from maybe jurassic world. still go see that.

  • the action is legitimate. the same kind of stunts that you see chiseled men doing in moves like james bond or mission impossible flicks, are in here
  • if youre scared of it becoming too gun-and-lead-blazing action-y, don’t be. some of the best moments are imbued with moments of comedy that come from dismantling tropes or stereotypical spy scenes with real life (think the scene in the trailer were jude law sneezes and accidentally pulls his trigger)
  • nor do you have to worry about it getting too campy. like i mentioned above, most moments of comedy stem from ruining too-perfect moments you’ve seen in other action movies with mistakes or missteps you’ll recognize from your own life
  • the ladies get a higher percentage of the badassery than the men!! VALAR MORGHULIS ALL MEN MUST DIE BUT WE ARE NOT MEN
  • mccarthy’s character is not fatshamed once. not once. nor do they make a joke of her weight - she doesn’t wheeze after running 50 meters or get rude nicknames. the only time she is intentionally made out to be “dumpy” is when she is undercover, in obviously ridiculous and unflattering clothes
  • on that note, there’s also age diversity! one of the major supporting characters, susan’s best friend nancy, is played by 42-year-old miranda hart. the director of the CIA is allison janney, who is 55. even the film’s sexpot-mafia-heiress raina is played by a 35 year old actress (rose byrne). it’s not much, but it’s a start!!
  • tbh any movie that uses the phrase “limp-dick unicorn” has my whole heart so
  • susan is in love with her uber-handsome, hella-smooth field agent partner bradley fine (NOT A SPOILER DONT WORRY) played by jude law. who, ya, looks p good. anyway. when she finally vocalizes her love for him, she is not made out to be pathetic, hapless, or hopeless, even though another character is trying to make her appear as all these things at the time
  • also honestly guys its just funny as fuck

SO YEAH. THERE WE GO. a bunch of reasons for you to slink away from this disgusting summer heat to see spy and laugh off like 3 popsicles worth of calories at your local theater.

disclaimer, though. i’ve only seen the movie once now, so i could be missing some problematic or offensive themes or bits within the film. the movie is not perfect, and has very serious and disappointing drawbacks. it lacks racial diversity and uses ableist language at least once.

 if anyone has a problem with any of the points im more than happy to remove or edit them!! just let me know!!