skin carving

This is the dream where I get a call from your mother

the tables turn and the paisley begins to drip from the dry wall

the sunshine is a bone white spotlight of indecision

a snowstorm sky in Southwest Florida

Baseball bat in my shaking hands

I am shattering the stain glass windows of my eyes

I walk to Ocean City in the rose-colored robe

that I was wearing when I asked you to marry me

You are there

alone at the back of the same café

powdered sugar on your pretty mouth

With a plastic knife I carve valleys into my body

dip it in hot oil and begin branding my skin  

with new fiction

Carve your existence into my core

write your ambitions, your fears,

the stories from your Maryland childhood

like street signs along my highway veins

all this blood traveling to my nomadic heart

I take out my organs and give them to you

one by one

Eric Clapton’s, “You Look Wonderful Tonight”,

playing faintly overhead


anonymous asked:

Do u think that with human warrior cats, apprentices would be 10-13 years old, or 13-18 years old?? Idk which works better

tbh with human warrior cats i think there would be different “stages” to an apprenticeship. i’ve thought about this a lot and how different human wc would be (aka so this is just my hc)

from years 8-10, kits begin learning their foundational skills. learning how to weave, make baskets/clothing, cooking + skinning meat, basic carving skills etc. they’re not an official apprentice, but they still begin learning bc theres no point having them sit around and do nothing

ages 11 - 12 are super important bc this is the time when they start to hone in on their specialized “skills”. do they want to be a hunter, specializing in long-range attack and learning trapping skills? do they want to be an artisan, responsible for creating clothing, baskets, blankets and jewelry to be traded with other clans at a gathering? maybe they are interested in healing and begin to help the healer go on herb-expeditions in the forest etc etc

age 13 is when they have their apprentice ceremony. all apprentices learn basic skills, but this is when they start to specialize and utilize their own talents. their mentor is usually chosen based on their own skill and specialty

i would say that there would probably be rules about battle, in that younger apprentices are strictly messengers or help the healer until they reach a certain age/pass a certain test (maybe age 15/16?)

i can imagine human wc to have super elaborate ceremonies and rites of passage along an apprenticeship. there’s really no set-age for when they can become a warrior, it just depends on their training and skills. maybe tattooing (earning their stripes haha get it) or ceremonial clothing, or even special weaponry is given once a character becomes a warrior 


endless list of favourite books: all for the game trilogy by nora sakavic

“ninety percent of the time the very sight of you makes me want to commit murder. i think about carving the skin from your body and hanging it out as a warning to every other fool who thinks he can stand in my way.”
“what about the other ten?”

anonymous asked:

Tbh Wanda loves using her powers to pin down her partners while she rides them

Originally posted by platanoypapaya

Wanda’s eyes glimmered down at the beautiful girl pinned beneath her body, whining and writhing in anticipation.

You both loved to play this game.

The game where you would bend to Wanda’s every will, letting her take control in her own playful and incredibly sexy way.

With her, there was no need for physical restraints. No necessity for your wrists to be held behind your back or on each end of the headboard with rope, silk scarves, or handcuffs - though, sometimes they were brought in just to mix things up. No - the two of you had discovered there was something you both found much, much more arousing. When Wanda used nothing but her powers of physical manipulation to keep you exactly where she wanted.

Tonight, you were Wanda’s plaything.

“Look at you, my sweet girl.” Wanda hummed. Her breath faltered when her clit brushed against your pubic bone, before it left on a shivering exhale. She took the time to drink in the image before her. You had already stripped each other of any clothing. You were reclined on the bed between her legs, hair a sexed-up tousled mess and chest expanding with every panting breath you gulped. She had you wrists arranged stretched above your head, kept there by a swirling red energy.

Wanda’s gentle fingertips found the silk smooth skin on the inside of your forearms and they trailed their way down the bare flesh of each arm. When her touch reached just below your underarms, she applied some pressure, allowing her fingernails to bite ever so lightly into your skin as she carved her path down your sides. You fought back a moan, intoxicated by the way she dominated you with such a cherishing touch.

Her warm, familiar hands found their destination on your hips, where she gripped before closing her lips to yours in an innocent enough kiss that soon turned breathy and desperate. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss when her lips began to pull away, but your longing was immediately relieved as her kisses travelled to your jaw and cascaded down your neck to your collarbone.

A tingling sensation on your pelvis caught your attention and you cast your eyes down your body to see that Wanda had removed her hands from your hips. You were now anchored there to the bed by glowing red wisps that tickled your skin delightfully. Your head lolled back against the bed covers in submission while Wanda brought herself upright.

She wasted no time in beginning to grind down on you, her hand resting just below your ribs to steady herself as she moved. With every roll of Wanda’s hips against yours, came a strangled whimper from your throat and instinctive desire to buck your hips in return. But no matter how desperately you wanted to meet Wanda halfway, any attempt was impossible.

Wanda reached behind her back and ran her fingers through your wetness. You sucked in a breath when she slipped two fingers inside of you and began to curl them upwards in a beckoning motion. She didn’t relent in the rolling of her hips into yours, but instead timed each act with the other to create a dizzying rhythm of pleasure in your core.

Just when you could have sworn it couldn’t get any better than what Wanda was already stirring inside of you, a startling but oh-so-welcome sensation took over your clit. You didn’t even have to look down to know that all you would see was Wanda’s scarlet magic. And your hands would have been clutching and clawing at the bedspread if they weren’t secured well above your head by the exact same thing.

The stimulation to your clit was so wonderfully intense, your eyes squeezed shut and it felt like you were crashing through new dimensions of colour and light. You began to shake as suddenly the most incredible orgasm of your life was crashing through you.

Wanda’s soothing kisses to your neck and shoulders coaxed you back to reality. You felt so gloriously spent.

“You are so stunning.” Wanda breathed against your skin, and then lifted her head up, her weight resting on her elbows, and looked down at you.

Mustering enough energy from somewhere, you lifted a hand to tuck her long ash brown locks behind her ear, your fingers lingering on the delicate skin of her cheek.

“You are so magical.” You said adoringly and Wanda’s face tinted pink. She hid in the crook of your neck and again began to pepper you with kisses, nibbling tenderly every now and again.

No more please.

Present for You

1.) RE: minho requests. I wouldn’t mind some intense teasing in foreplay with almost humiliating (I dunno how best to describe it sorry) dirty talk about how wet the person is and how badly they must want it until they are begging for it. ;) i love your writing so whatever you end up doing will be amazing and HOT

2.) Teresa’s eye catches your boyfriend Minho so to make sure he is marked as yours you ride the living day lights out of him and leave scratches along his back and hickeys on his shoulders and v-line and you have bruises on your hips. She goes to flirt with him the next day so you subtlety flash the love marks you left on him at her and kiss Minho more passionately than you have before and everyone in the Glade looks at you shocked as you proudly walk away leaving Minho dazed and lovestruck.

3.) Oooh, could I request Minho smut where he’s usually in charge and in control, but the reader finds out he has a huge weakness- he goes absolutely crazy when she rides him, like it’s his ultimate weakness, and of course she exploits this bc LBR who wouldn’t ;)

4.) Can you please do a minho one where you won’t let him touch you or talk and maybe his hands are tied up so his big biceps look all pretty above his head and he’s constantly tugging on the rope so they’re bulging omfg I need it please

This smut gave me hell and it’s so long i want to cry. I hope y’all love it and shoutout to the anon for helping me finish it. Request me things (but read the guideline post so I don’t have to delete it). 

The fire crackled and snapped in the relative quiet of the Glade. The sun had long since set and most of the Gladers were gathered around in small groups sharing the warming glow of the fire. It was so rare that you got a chance to sit out and enjoy the night with the rest of the group. Tonight was warm and the air tasted like the start of summer. You tried to shut out the rest of the conversations, resting your head on Minho’s chest with your eyes shut. This kind of soothing peace had descended over the groups and where there would usually be bickering and ruckus, there was only small talk and silence- like there was no where else to be but by the fire.

“Shut up, Thomas. Minho could kick your ass in two seconds flat.” A shrill voice across the fire chuckled, awakening you from your daze and breaking the beautiful peace.

“Thanks T.” Your pillow shook. The smoke nipped at your eyes as you peeled them open to sit up a little, flattening out your hair and shifting from the arm wrapped around your shoulders. Across the fire sat Teresa and she was staring intently at you, a small smile creeping on her lips. Nope. Not at you, at the guy snuggled up with you. Your head turned to face him, but his eyes were focused across the fire pit. Your stomach twitched. Oh, hell no.

Your hand shifted under the blanket wrapped around you both to land just above his knee, a gentle reminder of who he should be looking at. Minho’s head snapped to you, a small, cocky smirk still on his lips. “Hey.” He pulled you back against him warming your side once more.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He narrowed his at you before whispering, “What?”

You glanced back at the fire. Teresa’s smile had disappeared, but she wasn’t back in the guy’s conversation. She was staring directly at you, lips pouted.

“I have a present for you.” You smirked back at him. It was something you’d been thinking of for a while, but tonight you were feeling the effects of some Dutch courage- just one drink too many.

Minho raised an eyebrow, “A present?” And his smirk was back. “And what would that be?” His eyes wandered back to the fire.

“You’ll have to come to bed to find out.” Whispering so as to conceal your conversation from the groups sitting around you, you pulled your legs underneath you and moved to face him, letting his arm drop from your shoulders to your waist.

His eyes shut very deliberately before opening them slowly, he was smiling now. That rare, glistening smile he didn’t like to show people. “You drive a hard bargain, Y/N. Do I at least get a hint?” His fingers played with the seam of your shirt at your lower back letting his cold fingertips brush against the hot skin there, leaving shivers to run up your spine.

“No clues.”  You wound your arms around his neck and pulled yourself up until you could whisper in his ear, letting the blanket slip from your body. “But if you come now I might even throw in a lapdance.”

Minho’s hand curled into a fist, tightening around the material of your shirt. “We’re gone.” He muttered, whipping the blanket off himself before standing up and offering you a hand to your feet. “G’night.” He said quietly to the fire earning a small wave from Thomas. Gently he took your hand and together you made the short walk back to the homestead.

You pulled the chair from the corner of his room to the centre as the door banged shut. “Sit.” Minho took slow steps towards you holding your gaze before lowering himself to sit, his smirk still visible in the dim light. The slight buzz of alcohol still danced in your system creating a warm hum in your forehead as you reached for his shoulders and bent at the waist until you were at his eye-level.  You stayed that way for a moment reveling in the way his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips.

He broke first, stretching forwards to nuzzle his nose against yours, lips millimeters away in a delicious kind of purgatory. Your lips twitched, teasing his before your hand stroked over his jaw. His lips pressed against yours softly, but you pulled away all to soon and turned around.

Moving your hips to the melody inside of your head, you ran your hands up and over your body, eyes closed in dizzy tipsiness. You flicked your hair over one shoulder and glanced back at him, slipping your fingers under the hem of your shirt. Minho was slouched in the chair, eyes locked on your ass. You smiled a little, pulling your shirt over your head softly and discarding it on the ground. Slowly you backed up onto him, grinding your ass on his package while supporting yourself with a hand on either knee. “Damn, Y/N.” Minho breathed behind you curving his huge hands around your hips, guiding them against him.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” You whispered back, pulling his hands from your hips. Minho sighed dramatically, the smile audible in his breath. All too soon you stood up and stepped away from him to unbuckled your belt, still rolling your hips. You slid your pants down slowly, bending at the waist and letting them pool at your ankles before glancing over your shoulder again. His eyes were still locked on your ass but his lips were parted a little, brow furrowed. Minho glanced up, caught your eye and motioned for you to come closer. Tediously slowly, you drew your hand up to hold onto his shoulder before stepping over his legs and straddling him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, and rolled your hips against his growing hardness.

Now eye-to-eye, you watched as Minho’s eyes licked over your skin before stopping at your bra. You felt his hands running from your knees over your thighs to rest on your ass. You stopped moving, glaring at him until he looked you in the eye. “Hands.” You said firmly.

Minho grinned, groaning and rolling his head backwards to rest on the backrest of the seat. All the same, he squeezed your ass hard before removing his hands. You rolled your hips down on him again, lowering your lips to meet his neck. You let your tongue flick against his skin before moving your lips up to his earlobe which you sucked into your mouth, biting it gently. Minho hissed underneath you, rocking his hips to meet yours. The increased friction against your clit caused your muscles to clench involuntarily; the feeling of rolling over his length -only three thin layers dividing you- was indescribable. Your hands wound down to unbutton his shirt as your lips caught his neck again, kissing his hot skin harder and sucking it into your mouth. He was going to be marked as yours before the night was through.

With his help, you navigated stripping him of his shirt before detaching yourself from his neck. Even in the dim light the bruise stood out next to his tanned skin. You ground against him harder, hands stroking down his skin, feeling out every contour of his muscles. After exploring him for a while, your hands stroked back to his neck. You were nose to nose, each gasping softly into the other’s mouth will every grind of your hips, small tingles coursing from your core feeling him hard against you. You leaned in and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth.

All of a sudden his hands were under your ass. You let go of his lip and stopped grinding again. “You’re really not getting this ‘no hands’ thing, are you?” You breathed into his open mouth.

Minho grinned against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your chest flush against his. His lips were on your neck, then trailed down to your chest before stopping in the valley between your breasts. “But I missed these too much,” he muttered, squeezing them over your bra.

You giggled as his hands met your ass again and he stood up, carrying you around his waist. It didn’t last long though as he threw you down on his mattress. You sat up on your elbows, admiring his body; the way his biceps bulged and retracted as he unbuckled his belt, the skin pulled taught over his tensing abs and of course his considerable arousal straining to be freed. All thoughts of Teresa had escaped your mind when he crawled between your legs, pawing at your bra with both palms before stroking over your thighs.

Above it all, the way he looked at you turned you on like crazy- it was like he had never seen something quite so special before, like every curve of your skin was carved by the Gods. You reached your hand along his waist, pulling his belt from his hips like a whip before edging his pants down with your heels. Minho shook them off, discarding them at the end of the bed before moving back to your lips to catch you in a passionate make-out session. This chest-to-chest exchange made your mind go blank. His hands were innocent -running through your hair and along your jaw- but his mouth told a different story in its clumsy, frantic kisses.

You pushed against his shoulder gently and flipped onto him, straddling his waist and pulling away from his lips first, as usual. Breathlessly you spoke,“Minho, I made a rule. No hands. Give them to me.” You took his hands and pinned them, wrist over wrist above his head. You wound his belt around them, binding them to the headboard before locking the belt in place and sitting up, staring down at his naked torso.

“Damn, Y/N.” He whispered, pulling at his ties. His biceps flared sending a short twitch to your clit.  His smile reassured you that everything was fine but you chewed on your lip, lightly rolling your hips over his hardness to fulfill the throbbing heat between your legs. The faint blur of alcohol in your system was dying out, and you were hit by a strange mix of nerves and arousal. This was so foreign for you- to have him at your mercy and be able to pleasure him (or not) in whatever way you pleased.

“Will you talk to me?” You bent down, kissing along his jaw until you found the other side of his neck from your first love bite. Kissing slowly, you alternated between suckling on his skin and massaging it with your tongue, trying to minimize the pain involved. Under your fingertips you could feel his heart speed up.

“Talking is not really my strong point.” He spoke huskily, his throat shaking under your lips.

“Pretty please?” You sat back and admired your new masterpiece before leaving hot wet kisses down his chest. “What do you want me to do?” You rocked on him, feeling your wetness soak through your panties. There was no way he couldn’t feel it through his boxers too. You sat up, trailing a hand behind your back before popping the clasp on your bra and slowly sliding its straps down your shoulders. “Hmm?”

You could see his eyes following your hand, brow furrowed. He pulled against his restraints again making the headboard shake, his hands twisting around the leather that bound them. Minho sighed and closed his eyes but his smile still remained. “Take it off.”

“But why would I take it off if you’re not even looking.” His eyes flickered open to your chest. “If I wanted to untie you -which I don’t- I’d want you to take this off-.” You flicked it onto the floor and pulled your hands up your body until they cupped your breasts. His face turned you on more than anything as his eyes flickered between your exposed chest and your face as he bucked his hips to get as much friction as possible in his restricted state. “-And then you could play with them.” You squeezed yourself hard, the sight causing him to shift against you roughly, a frustrated groan escaping his lips.

Ignoring the growing need to empale yourself on his dick, you swung your leg off him, now kneeling at his side. Your hand rolled over his boxers, feeling the impressive length of his hardness. “Fuck, Minho.” You breathed imagining how it would feel to be stretched open by him. Minho short breaths were loud, as were the almost constant rattles of him pulling against the headboard. You ducked your head and licked over the fabric, feeling his muscles clench under your hands. As they clasped around the waist band, you drew the cloth down his legs before throwing it to the floor to join your other clothes.

You eyes flicked back to his now bare hips, hands running over the V of his hips and feeling the angular shape leading down to his length. A light whimper broke the quiet, “Untie me, baby.”

Smiling, you dipped down to kiss along his hips licking along the hollow of his skin. “I don’t think you want me to. Tell me what you want.” You stopped as close to his cock as possible, letting it brush past your cheek before moving to his other hip.

“Suck it.” He gasped as your lips sucked on his skin leaving yet another dark bruise, this time on his hip. Your hands ran to his sides, locking him down from wriggling against you.

“You didn’t say what to suck.”

“Y/N.” He moaned, his head pressing back into the pillow. You moved to the other hip, face lower this time and much closer to him. Your lips locked around his skin again, sucking it lightly and letting your teeth graze over it. “Suck my dick.” He breathed, eyes closed.

For a second you were frozen. Just hearing him say something dirty was an immediate turn on, but it was so foreign it almost sounded like another language. Stretching your tongue out and licked him from base to tip. Minho’s groan was loud as you swirled your tongue around his tip before kissing it, hands fumbling to tie your hair back in a loose bun. When your hands were free, you made a loose fist around his base, pumping him a few times to wetten him before wrapping your lips around him. You sucked him lightly at first; teasing him in and out of your mouth while keeping your fist working on the part which you couldn’t reach with your hand. Increasing your speed, the familiar ache of your jaw was unnoticeable while you listened to him trying to stay quiet. He felt so much harder than usual, his arousal making your own all the more prevalent.

Underneath you Minho squirmed weakly, whimpering and pulling hard on the headboard. With your ass in the air and your lips on his cock, the power was definitely in your hands. “Baby, please untie me.” He said breathlessly, stomach muscles tensing in attractive waves with each pant.

You sat up, wiping the corners of your mouth. “Why?” Reaching your hand up to stroke down his biceps, the other stroking over his member.

Minho’s jaw was tight but he chuckled, squirming under you. “Because I want to feel you.”

“Not good enough.” You pecked his lips before crawling back to his dick, sucking it deep into your hot mouth, relishing in the sound of his hiss. As you pulled away, you ran your tongue down his shaft before flicking it over his tip.

“Fuck, Y/N. Stop.” His voice was firm this time.

You pulled away, grinning ear to ear. “Do you need a minute to compose yourself?” You teased, turning back to his face.

His cheeks were flushed and his hair was unusually matted as he sighed, nodding. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” He whined, relaxing his arms above his head. You were now hit with the realization of just how wet you were. Your clit was throbbing powerfully and your heart was almost as loud and fast as his.

You tilted your head to the side, sliding your panties down your legs before throwing them on his bedside table. You’d leave them there as a souvenir. “I can do that myself- do you want to watch?” You smirked trying to sound as innocent as possible.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Minho groaned in frustration, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling as you ran your hands over your chest again, flicking over hardened nipples. His eyes drifted back to you soon enough- this time you spread your legs. “I could make you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Untie me.”

As you ran a hand down to brush over your clit -sensitive from being ignored for so long- you could  see his eyes widen. “Talk dirty to me and I’ll think about it.” You gasped as the first wave of pleasure hit you. You were so wet, it would be embarrassing but for the way Minho was looking at you.

He growled. “God, Y/N. Please let me do that for you.” The tone of anger in his voice was so sexy, a kind of passion which was so rarely spoken. You shook your head slowly, having a little trouble processing his words while your clit felt so sensitive under your fingertips. The coiling sensation in your abdomen was a sure signal that you could make yourself come anytime you wanted, but making him squirm was so much more rewarding than that. Your fingers were covered in your own wetness as you drew soft circles around your clit, gasping with every shock of sensation which rolled through your veins. Minho’s head fell back in the pillow, trying so hard not to watch you. He closed his eyes. “Untie me so that I can fuck your sweet, tight little pussy until you’re shaking.”

Your mouth literally dropped open, your hand stopped moving. His dark eyes fell back to you. “Was that better?” He smirked, “Y/N, you’re literally dripping wet.” Minho bit his lip as you watched his eyes fall to your core. His voice was quiet but strong and unyeilding. “You must want me so badly. Let me do it. If you don’t want to untie me, come here and sit on my face.”

Blinking, you whispered, “What did you just say?” Your fingers pressed firmly on your clit causing an override of hot pleasure causing you to arch up, toes curling against the sheets.

“Stop touching yourself and sit on my face.” Minho growled, rattling the headboard again. Your head tilted to the side, hand trailing away from your core at the proposition. Slowly you smiled, setting yourself back on your knees.

You shook your head and Minho groaned. “Nah, but I will ride you.” You whispered, straddling him once more and leaning down to brush your lips against his. As your lips met over and over again, tongues flickering over each others, you ground down lightly on him causing your wetness to coat his length. You each moaned into the other’s mouths before you sat up. It felt too frantic- the swelling within you was intense and demanding- but you weren’t about to stop.

You raised yourself off the bedsheets, palming his length to line his tip at your entrance. “You ready?” You breathed, watching him from above. His jaw was tight, but his eyes never left you.

“Untie me and I will be.” He grunted. Sighing, you sat yourself on his cock, feeling every inch push deeper and deeper inside you until you were sure you couldn’t take anymore. He was so big, it didn’t so much hurt as feel like a fine stretching. Your nails were digging into his chest, chewing on your lips and trying to keep your impending climax at bay for now.

His groan was short and quiet, his chest heaving underneath your hands. All of a sudden you longed for his hands on you, or perhaps for his lips to worship any part of your skin. Slowly you pulled yourself up, sinking back down onto him again. This time it was easier, hot tingles of pleasure making your muscles tense uncontrollably, but you didn’t want to ride too fast and give him the satisfaction of seeing you climax. “Baby, you feel so good.” You whimpered, riding him gently at first, quietly accommodating his length in you. “If I untie you, will you make me come?” Your leant forwards, hands wrapping around the belt buckle which bound him, breasts hovering over his face.

Even in the dim light you could see his eyes wondering from your chest to his ties. “Y/N.” He sighed, “I can make you come until you can’t breath. I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow if you let me touch you.” Your walls tightened around his cock causing a loud whimper to slip from your mouth as you pawed over the buckle before undoing it fast.

Minho pulled his wrists free in a flash, sitting up and running his hands roughly down to your ass, grabbing it hard. He pulled you up and down on his dick faster than before, fingers pressing hard into your skin as you cried out in animalistic noises at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. The coil in your stomach was shifting violently as you hugged around his neck, hands running through his short hair. “I’m going to…” You whimpered down to him, as his hands moved to your hips. The rhythmic sound of slapping skin fell in rhythm with your panting breaths. His fingers dug in painfully hard, but it send shockwaves to your heat as he bounced you on his cock, bucking up to meet you.

He groaned loudly, half-smiling up at you. “You gonna come for me, Y/N?” Your fingers dug into the back of his neck hard, feeling that climbing in your stomach reaching higher and higher as he plowed into you, your mouth gasping in shaky breaths.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod.” You panted, pressing your foreheads together until you couldn’t talk anymore, feeling that overwhelming white hot coil about to crash down. You shook softly, breathing into his mouth until his pounding made your stomach flip. Harsh waves of pleasure cut through you, shaking you to the core as you bounced on his dick. From your mouth slipped a long string of “Ohmigod,” met only by his groan from feeling you tighten around him. Your eyes squeezed shut, shaking hard against him as you settled from your high.

Minho’s thrusting slowed and finally stopped as he supported your trembling frame, switching positions to lie you on your back. Through your whimpers, he kissed against your lips softly, still inside of you. As you composed yourself, you smiled up at him, hands still wrapped around his neck. “Do you need a minute?” He whispered, proudly smirking down at you.

You shook your head slowly, as his hands trailed up to cup your breasts. Coming down from your high felt a little painful. Your thigh muscles ached and your hips felt bruised and tender, but that all disappeared when Minho drew himself out of you, thrusting back in slowly. “I think I might. Goddammit you’re so tight after you come.” He reached down and hiked your thigh further up his hip, stretching you open a little further to accommodate him.

His thrusts were slow and passionate, burying himself to the hilt and watching your face as you gasped under him. “So are you going to let me make you come again or are you going to tie me up?” Minho breathed against your mouth.

You had fully recovered by now, but your core felt numb and swollen. Still, you relished in the slow thrusts he gave you, stroking your hand over his jaw. “I don’t think I can come again, but you can fuck me for real, now.” You teased.

Your smile soon turned into a harsh moan as he slid himself into you hard. “What were you saying?” He chuckled, stomach muscles rippling in the dull light with every hard drive into you. The way his lower stomach brushed over your clit when he was deep made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck.” You whimpered as he ducked his head, kissing along your neck as he picked up speed, groaning himself now. Your wetness made a delicious slapping sound with every thrust, and his panting moans sent hot pangs of pleasure to your sensitive clit. It was so hot being skin on skin with him. Through the pangs, you could feel that spiral in your stomach start to resurface. “Minho, I think I can.”

Minho responded with faster thrusts, driving into you at an incomprehensible pace. You swore loudly, arching up to his chest, raking your nails down his back just to cling onto something. His lightening quick pace fast tracked your climax until you were panting hard underneath him. He could feel you tightening around his cock and although he wanted so badly to bury himself and spit his seed into you, he kept his focus clear, determined to make you come again. He didn’t have to wait long as you clung tighter to him, your core feeling a numb kind of ecstasy at his speed. “Don’t stop…” You whispered, before falling silent. Your eyes locked into his as you hit the white plateau before the crash.

“Come for me.” He breathed into your mouth. You trembled under him, before feeling the pressure in your stomach flood everywhere all at once. Eyes squeezed shut, the electric pangs shot through you, wave after wave of uncontrollable pleasure as Minho buried himself to the hilt, twitching deep into you as his hand covered your mouth to quieten the animalistic sounds coming from it. His own groan was just as loud though, as he pressed his forehead harder against yours.

It felt as if minutes had gone past -certainly long enough for you to quieten yourself- before he slid out of you, leaving you tight and leaking a delicious mix of both your liquids. He pushed himself from you, taking his hand away from your mouth and leaning on his side. “I gave you bruises.” Minho’s fingers traced lightly over your hips. He sounded worried. You sat up still shaking inside from the pangs of pleasure. Sure enough, there were small, dark blotched over your waist where his fingers had pressed in, but they definitely didn’t hurt. Not yet, at least.

You giggled softly, throwing your head back to the pillow. “I don’t want to worry you, but you have a couple too.”

The events of last night rolled over and over in your head. The constant thoughts of Minho’s length filling you and of his lips on your neck made you irritable, distracted and above all, horny. The wetness between your legs had grown steadily throughout the day and intensified every time your hand brushed semi-deliberately over your bra. You had thought about returning to the homestead and killing the ache yourself, but thought better of it. Best just wait for him and let him claim you in every way you had deprived him of last night.

From across the Glade you could see the small group forming where the runners usually returned. Finally. You sauntered over to the group where your man stood a forehead taller than everyone else. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead which did little but turn you on even more. His mouth was stretched out in his rare grin, but it wasn’t aimed at you this time. It was aimed at Teresa. Oh hell no. Now wasn’t the time to talk about her, now was the time to claim your property in the crudest way. In his running shirt the dark purple blotches on his neck were completely visible, so why weren’t they bothering her? Weren’t they markers enough of your ownership?

You approached from his back, wrapping your hands around his waist as you crossed to his front. Minho’s eyes flickered down to you and his smile widened further. You bit your lip, blushing a little as you ran your hand up his chest to his collar. His skin was burning hot under your palm and you knew exactly what he was thinking about. You pulled his collar down and he bend down to you, hands snaking around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. “I missed you.” He breathed for only you to hear. Your lips met with vigor, mouths opening on contact desperate to taste each other. Your lips locked and relocked, brushing against each other while your eyes flittered shut. As your tongues played, your hands rolled down to the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath it to feel his tight stomach muscles. His shirt rode up with your wrists, exposing the love marks over his V-line. To the sound of gasps and whispers from the small group around you, you pulled away and stepped back from him.

“I’m going to go hide in the showers. Prize if you find me?” You challenged loud enough for the group to hear before stepping out of his grasp and strutting towards the showers past Teresa whose eyes followed you the whole way.

Thomas slapped Minho’s shoulder, but he was frozen in a daze. “Jesus Christ- she’s a keeper. C’mon, go get your girl.” Thomas laughed and hollered with the rest of the guys.

Minho shook his head softly, trying to hide his beaming smile before following in your tracks past Teresa and heading towards the showers.

Imagine getting caught self-harming by Jasper

Originally posted by darlingpanslove

This was requested but I deleted the request by accident, oops. The anon requested a Bellamy imagine but I felt like writing something with Jasper so I changed it. Hope you don’t mind.

I know it’s a controversial subject, so don’t read you don’t feel comfortable. It’s pretty long because I feel like it deserved length ((kinda like the PTSD one, which, in my opinion, was shit cause I suck))

She felt as if the weight of the world had suddenly crashed on her shoulders, and she was struggling to hold it up.

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WIP - tattoo artist Derek

It really is the armpit of town; foetid, too warm, always uncomfortably damp. It smells like trash too long uncollected, like inhabitants too long unwashed, and no one in their right mind would ever spend their time here.

Good thing no one’s ever thought Stiles was in his right mind.

Certain things just aren’t on the market any place else. If he wants to keep his dad safe from things that go bump in the night, and in the half light, and in the moonlight and the noonlight, then it’s to the square mile around the deteriorating warehouse district where he has to turn his steps. There’s not one bit of neon that doesn’t flicker, not one shabby storefront that’s not at least halfway lying about its wares, and Stiles isn’t the only one who’s declared this place a kind of neutral zone. If he tried to work around here no one would ever sell to him, and he’d be dead in under a week.

Stiles is too used to living to give it up any time soon.

He pushes through a bead curtain that hasn’t done much in its effort to keep off the flies. The woman behind the scarred counter lazily flicks them aside with a fan that could be horsehair, or kelpie, or something stranger. The walls are lined with things in jars and packets, rickety shelves labelled with crabbed writing that’s a struggle to read in the dim light from the kitchen behind the counter; someone out there is watching I Love Lucy and laughing with too much hiss to be human.

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In physics, the law of conservation of energy states that energy can be neither created nor destroyed. But it can change.

I don’t claim to understand physics anymore than I ever understood you, but maybe that’s why I didn’t feel it when you died. Why my heart kept beating, out of sync without yours.

Maybe I get to have a reason for the ache you left in my chest. For the hollow spaces between my ribs, where your hands once lingered.

You exist, still. You must.

—  as a memory, as a ghost | p.d
Don’t wait.
Take life into your hands.
Know it before your time is done.
Feel its love
Its pain
Its music.
Life is terrible, it’s beautiful,
but it’s also real.
Seize it for yourself.
Live in it.
Feel it burn your skin.
Feel it carve its scars into you
And love every minute of it before it’s gone.
—  A.L.
Of you? Honestly. (M)

Jeon Jungkook. 2 732 words. Bad boy AU + High School AU.

Part 2

“Scared, _____?”

You’ve never quite liked your name until it’s rolling off his tongue. Even if they’re spoken with a hint of daunting. And you’ve never quite felt your heart beat this loud until you’ve backed up and feel your behind hit the teacher’s desk.

“Of you? Honestly.” You find a sort of boldness that might get you in trouble.

In trouble with the notorious bad boy of the school nonetheless.

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Women of the Zodiac

Aries women are boiling inside with the power of a thousand volcanoes. Their energy is powerful, with the unique ability to turn dirt into diamonds. Their love is honeyed, decadent and a necessity, for there is nothing quite like it in the entire universe. There’s fire behind their eyes, probably the same fire that warms up the stars. 

Taurus women are the smell after the rain. They come into your life exactly at the right time to show you there’s beauty even in sad moments. Their joyfulness and adorable persona has the power to lift spirits and maybe even bring back the dead, shattered pieces of oneself. Their intelligence shines as if it was being filtered through a multi-coloured vitralium. 

Gemini women are the first sip of champagne - crisp, numbing and voluptuous. They are real crystals in a pile of fake jewels. They are sweet, tender and their love is ever-lasting. Their eyes are miniature galaxies that hold the entire universe in its place. Meeting them gives you a feeling of ease, as if everything fell into its place the moment they walked through the door. 

Cancer women are the moment just before sunrise, the feeling of happiness and hope that engulfs someone as they look out the window and witness the beauty of nature. They are great conversationalists and can paint you in the most wonderful of words, all while seeing behind your veils and smoke screens. They are technicolour creatures in a world of neutral shades. 

Leo women are a luscious garden in the middle of the desert. Just like an oasis, their life-giving energy will encircle and cure everyone who’s brave enough to explore it. Their suave movements have the power to seduce and even kill, tenderly. Their eyes are jasper crystals and their skin smells like burnt incense. 

Virgo women are like lightning - precise, luminous and oh-so-beautiful. They light up the entire sky with their vivid imagination and seductive personality. They are quiet, swift and light as a breeze gently caressing your face. Their style is regal, as they are probably the most ceremonious sign of the zodiac. 

Libra women are a cup of lavender tea, warming you up from the inside. Their flavour is syrupy and their eyes burn in amber-like colours. Their touch is gentle, as if they have feathers and their love, all-encapsulating, is the singularity that generated the Big Bang, creating the entire universe and a million other universes, all tied together with a lilac satin ribbon. 

Scorpio women are the sound of wood burning in a completely white mansion by the beach. They bring serenity and jubilance, dancing before your eyes like nobody’s watching. They are the moment you get home and feel immediate comfort. They are walking barefoot on freshly cut grass. Their skin is carefully carved from the luxuriest marble, while their spirit is domesticated and welcoming. 

Sagittarius women are the blue hour after the sunset, when the sky is a watercolour painting of purples and blues. They complete the day, putting on one of the finest shows you could ever experience. They are magnetic, dreamy and born poets. Looking at them is like looking at a statue by Michelangelo, everything, to the tiniest detail, is breath-taking. Their royal spirit shines through, indifferent to their appearance, as if under their skin there’s an ever-burning fire. 

Capricorn women are dark, clear nights, snuggling under the most magnificent sky. The constellations on their bodies shine with the power of quasars, their minds, brilliant and sharp, cut you like razor blades. Their velvety touch is almost mystical, making you wonder how can someone like them exist in reality. But they do, defying every law known to men, living their life at the limit between reality and dreams.

Aquarius women are the first bite into a luscious dessert. They are like the forbidden fruit you bite into, because they are so attractive you have no other choice. Being cursed by them would be a privilege. Meeting them is like shaking hands with a cloud, you try to capture them, scared they’d be lost from you forever, but you never will. When the time is right, they’ll appear in front of your eyes and you’ll embrace them, finally understanding the answer to all the questions ever asked. 

Pisces women are the smell of hyacinths, revealing the re-birth of nature. They are the sweetest, most delicate creatures to roam the Earth, but also the mightiest, most fragrant. Catching a glimpse of their dreamy demeanour is similar to the feeling of falling in love for the first time. Their eyes, always watery and deep as the ocean, carry with them the innocence of just being born into the world. You see yourself as new in their eyes. 

P.S.// Happy International Women’s Day to all my followers, whether they’re women, gender fluid or men in touch with their femininity. You’re all wonderful and deserve a wonderful spring! <3

okay so i tried my hand at writing for the first time in Years and idk if it’s any good?? idk its just Neil being introspective more that anything, mostly about andrew,, idk,, pls be nice to me it been so long since ive written 

In his 19 years of life Neil Josten had concerned himself with one thing: survival. He knew the concept like he knew every ugly blemish that marred his torso, like he knew the insistent need to get out of there perpetually lodged in his throat, like he knew the feel of cold steel against warm flesh again again again. That is to say he knew what it meant to survive intimately so. Neil knew how to shoot a man to make him bleed out without fatality and he knew how to kill a man without leaving a trace. The snik of a lock successfully picked, the consuming smoke and fire in his lungs, in his throat, on his tongue, the ricochet of a bullet and the resounding finality of the resultant echo were all sensations Neil had familiarised himself with over the years. Fear was something that had woven itself between Neil’s fingertips, burned behind eyes and weighted down his tongue. Intimacy meant feeling his mother’s heartbeat roaring in his ears on those nights it was too close, it was the back of his mother’s hand and the side of his face when he looked too long, it was Lola’s breath on his neck, hot and heavy.

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Out of My League - Part 1

Summary: Phil Lester is the perfect fifth-year. Smart, considerate, kind, not to mention beautiful. Dan, a first-year, knows all of this. But, of course, he can only admire him from afar, because he’s so out of his league. Hogwarts!Phan.

Genre: Hogwarts AU, Age Difference, Fluff, Comedy

Warnings: none

A/N: Hey everybody! So recently @hogwarts-headcanons gave me the idea to write a short Phan Hogwarts story about little first-year Dan having a major crush on a certain fifth-year. This is part 1 of the short story, it will not be a long, ongoing series like my other Phan Hogwarts AU! I’m not quite sure how many parts this will be yet, so bear with me! I hope you like it, and be sure to tell me what you think!

Read Part Two >>

He was running late. Again.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Dan muttered to himself as he grabbed his bag and flew towards the Slytherin common room’s door. Why hadn’t anyone woken him up? He was always running late, not only because of his lack of alarm system, but also because Hogwarts was huge. It was pretty easy to get lost. Dan had watched the older students jump along with ease on the moving staircases, and wondered if he’d be like that one day, confidently striding around Hogwarts like he owned the place.

Yanking open the common room door, he sprinted down the hall, away from the cold dungeons. Though the common room and dormitories were warm, the rest of the dungeons were pretty cold from being located beneath the lake.

Reaching the winding staircases, he hesitated for a moment. Which way was the History of Magic room? He was pretty sure it was near Gryffindor Tower. He glanced at the other students walking past, but felt too shy to say anything or ask for help. He was a first-year barely into his first month at school, after all. Upperclassmen probably didn’t want to be bothered by first-years.

So he resolutely started marching up a set of stairs, hoping he was going the right way. The corridors started to look pretty familiar, and his confidence rose as he made his way to another staircase.

However, this particular staircase liked to trip people up. The prefects had warned them about this staircase, but in his haste, he didn’t think about the stair’s tricks.

Before he knew it, a hole opened in one of the steps and it shifted so his foot caught, and Dan could literally feel himself suspended in the air for a gut-wrenching moment before he fell.

He hit the stairs hard, and continued to roll down, hitting his head, elbows, and knees. He was a mess of tangled limbs with his parchment and books scattered everywhere when he finally stopped at the base.

Dan assessed the damage. His whole body was throbbing, but a spot on his head hurt particularly badly and he knew his left knee was bleeding. He was going to have plenty of bruises tomorrow.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” a concerned voice spoke from above Dan, and the person knelt and touched Dan’s shoulder gingerly. “I saw you fall, do you need help?”

Dan bit back a sarcastic comment and shifted his aching body to look at his helper.

Even though he’d just regained his breath, all of it was knocked out of him again.

An older boy was kneeling in front of him, a worried frown creasing his face. He had messy black hair swept to the side, porcelain skin, and the most stunning pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen. He was tall and lanky, with a loose Hufflepuff tie around his neck.

Dan tried to speak. “I, um…”

“Here, let me get that,” the beautiful boy urged, taking Dan’s half empty bag and collecting Dan’s things. “You’re all trussed up! Do you need help to the infirmary?”

“Well, I, um, I-I don’t know where that is,” Dan admitted in a small voice.

“That’s okay, I’ll take you. Are you a first year? Ooh, your knee is bleeding! Nasty staircase, isn’t it? There’s another route you can take so you don’t have to battle with this one. I’ll show it to you sometime. C’mon, lean on my shoulder.”

The boy threw Dan’s bag over his shoulder like it weighed nothing and wrapped his arm under Dan’s. “Here, lean on me. Your left knee looks rough. We’ll go to Madame Pomfrey. She’ll be able to help.”

Dan couldn’t believe this was happening. He started to hyperventilate as this really, really cute guy let him lean on his shoulder. He stood, wincing at his knee and buckling as everything went dizzy. He put a hand to his temple.

“Does your head hurt?” the boy asked, concerned.

“A bit,” Dan mumbled.

“I’m sorry. I would carry you there, but I have two bags.” The boy sounded sincerely regretful, and Dan felt a blush creeping into his cheeks.

“Th-that’s okay,” Dan croaked.

A bit wobbly, but otherwise okay, Dan used this boy’s support as he made his way to a corridor he’d never seen before. The boy led him to a large pair of double doors and pushed one open with a grunt. “Here we are. C’mon, let’s get you to a bed.”

A pleasant-looking lady strode up to the pair as the boy helped Dan sit on one of the neatly-made beds. Some beds had curtains drawn around them, obviously hiding patients.

“Dear me, what on earth happened?” the lady asked in a brisk voice, and Dan assumed it was Madame Pomfrey.

“The evil stairs on the south side got him,” Dan’s savior told her. “He fell down, and I think he hit his head.”

“I see.” Madame Pomfrey studied him, and the boy gently let Dan go on the bed. Immediately Dan was keenly aware of the lack of warmth, and he drew into himself.

“What’s your name?” she asked, looking him over.

“Dan,” he answered the nurse quietly. “First-year.”

“Ah, well, don’t you worry. Plenty of first-years have found themselves here because of those staircases. Some can be pretty nasty. You’ll pick up on them quickly, though.” She bustled around, getting her wand. “The flesh wounds I can fix pretty easily, but your head trauma might need a potion to soothe it.”

Dan just nodded, only half paying attention as he saw the beautiful Hufflepuff boy shuffle slightly, seeming to move away from the bed. Dan didn’t want him to go.

Madame Pomfrey attended to his wounds, and as she worked, the Hufflepuff boy spoke to Dan cheerfully, asking him how he liked Hogwarts, his classes, his dormitory, his House, etc. Dan knew he was distracting him on purpose, and he was grateful.

It was difficult for Dan to keep answering, because he kept getting flustered and red in the face every time the boy smiled or made eye contact. Dan’s eyes darted around. Was it fair for someone to be so pretty?

Madame Pomfrey finished her work, and when Dan looked down, his bruises and scrapes were gone. Only a painful throbbing in his head remained as a reminder of his mishap.

“Here, drink this,” Madame Pomfrey instructed, handing him a cup of a brown, gross-looking potion. “It’ll soothe the headache.”

The older boy laughed at Dan’s expression. “Go on, Dan, it’s not so bad if you drink it quickly.”

Dan hid his face with the cup as he drank so the boy wouldn’t see his flush.

“You’re set to go when you feel up to walking,” Madame Pomfrey told him, tidying up. “Be more careful on those stairs, now!”

As she left to attend to another patient, the older boy smiled at Dan. “I need to get going. Do you want me to help you back to your common room?”

“Yes,” Dan agreed, almost too quickly. He hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask for the boy’s name yet, and he didn’t want him to go.

The boy smiled and walked over, studying him. “Do you need help?”

“U-Um, no, I think I can walk,” Dan stuttered.

The older boy nodded, then slung Dan’s bag over his shoulder again. “I’ll carry this, so don’t worry. C’mon, let’s go.”

Dan silently followed the gorgeous boy out of the infirmary and down a few halls. The boy kept chatting about this and that, about the Quidditch match coming up, but all Dan could focus on was how the boy’s arm flexed as he shifted the bags and the way his tongue stuck out of his mouth a little when he laughed.

He felt unhappy when Slytherin’s common room entrance came into view. “H-How’d you know where it was?” Dan asked timidly.

“I’m a fifth-year. I know my way about the castle by now,” the boy winked, and Dan actually felt himself swoon a little.

The fifth-year handed Dan his bag, and gave a soft smile once more. “I’ll see you around, Dan! Be careful around staircases, okay?”

All Dan could do was nod dumbly as the beautiful boy walked away.

When he disappeared from sight, Dan put his head against the stone wall, groaning. “I didn’t ask his name! Ugh, he was so…”

“What’re you doing, Dan?” a voice startled him from his beratement and Dan yelped, pulling away from the wall.

His friend Louise, from Hufflepuff, was standing there, looking at him curiously. “I came by to drop off the ink I borrowed. Am I interrupting something?”

Dan rolled his eyes at her teasing tone. “No.”

“So, who’s name didn’t you get?”

He spluttered, going red. “Nothing! No one’s! Don’t worry about it!”

Louise smirked. “You’re all red.”

“I am not!”

Louise laughed at him, and Dan suddenly realized she was in Hufflepuff, and a third-year. Maybe she knew the beautiful tall boy.

“Hey, Louise,” he started, hesitantly, “do you know anyone in fifth year in Hufflepuff?”

She stopped laughing and gave him a curious look. “Yeah, I know some people. Why?”

Dan swallowed. “Do you…maybe…happen to know a boy with black hair?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Dan.”

“He’s–he’s got these gorgeous blue eyes,” Dan continued. “And perfect pale skin, like he’s carved from marble, I swear. And a lopsided smile that seems really warm, and he’s tall, Louise, God, he’s tall and lanky, with a lovely laugh and his hair is all naturally messy, but it looks so good on him…”

He didn’t realize he’d been rambling until Louise let out a series of giggles. He turned even redder. “Don’t laugh! You said to be specific!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize you were in love with the guy,” Louise chortled, and her giggles eventually subsided amidst Dan’s indignant spluttering. “Black hair, tall, blue eyes, really pale, nice guy? Sounds like Phil.”


“Phil Lester. Fifth-year. Super friendly and easygoing guy, everyone likes him. I don’t know him too well myself, but I’ve seen him around.”

Phil. Dan let this name sink into his mind. It suits him.

“So why are you so curious about the magnificent Phil Lester?” Louise probed.

“Um, he helped me out today…” Dan trailed off, his face getting redder at Louise’s raised eyebrows. “He seemed…really great.”

Louise full-on laughed. “Sounds like someone has a crush!”

“Hey! Don’t say that!” Dan’s entire face was a tomato, and he glanced around to make sure no one had heard. “Not so loudly!”

“Can’t believe it’s a fifth-year, though,” Louise commented, looking thoughtful.

“Well, why not?” Dan defended himself. “He was really nice and considerate, not to mention beautiful!”

Louise looked gleeful. “I knew it!”

Dan smacked his forehead, groaning. “Dammit.”

“It’s alright, Dan,” Louise giggled. “I can’t blame you. Plenty of people like him, it’s just his personality. He’s really sweet.”

Dan lowered his head. “He’s so out of my league. But he’s really amazing, Louise.”

“Don’t give up hope just yet, Dan!” she replied cheerfully. “He’s in my House, after all! I can introduce you and I know you’ll hit it off. It’s impossible to not get along with Phil.”

Dan looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Will you?”

“Of course!”

Dan brightened. “Well, okay, but he’s still so out of my league.”

“I beg to differ. I think he’s just your type.”

According to A History of Notable Shadowhunters, after Raphael was killed the New York clan decided that the best way to honor him would be to help out around the neighborhood that he grew up in. They are known for being “nocturnal good samaritans”.

anonymous asked:

Andreil pining after each-other please

Okay, first I want to say bless you so much for indulging my poor writing heart. And also, I went the AU where everyone is happy in high school route on this because fluff is what I live for :) 

Andrew was fully prepared for the first day of school to go exactly the same as every other year, but that thought had come to a screeching halt when he stepped into his world history class. In one of the seats in the back row had been a head of auburn hair pillowed on arms on the desk. Andrew had slid into the seat beside the boy and let his book-bag fall to his feet with a clatter. The sound jolted the new kid awake, and piercing blue eyes snapped Andrew’s way before darting away. 

Now it’s four month’s later, and Andrew feels like his world is still off its axis just like that first day. 

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